Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by FatCat

Every morning thousands upon thousands of people wake up to their cofees, masala teas, uthapaams, croissants and broadsheet. There are few pleasures greater than falling off the bed, running into the fridge and assorted furniture before reaching the front door, and sweeping the day’s paper off the door mat. Personally my waking moment is defined by the instance when the mist in my eyes clear out to reveal airport strikes, cricket scores and the like.

So it was a mite symbolic that my personal Kala Ghoda experience began at perhaps the most important print media location in India. The TOI-VT heritage walk was scheduled to set off from outside the Times of India building, across the road from VT, at half past four on a Saturday evening. By the time I reached there was a fair sized crowd outside the main entrance into the building. But something seemed amiss.

Milling around the entrance into the building were a battalion or so of policemen. Now in my experience heritage walkers are probably the most docile of people. They walk around, looking at things, asking questions in little voices like “Oh and what stone this?”. So unless there was a sudden surge of historical zeal among the guardians of the law something was out of place. For a brief ironic moment I was standing outside the office of a newspaper complete lost to what was happening around me.

But soon a few co-bloggers informed that there had been a demonstration of some sort outside the building but now the police had cleared out everyone. Leaving the path clear for a largish group of heritage walkers all under the expert guidance of Abha and Shradha.

After the initial huddle around the walk-leads I must admit a little dissapointment. The walk would only cover the archives office of the Times of India and then proceed to the Victoria Terminus building before closing. Hardly the multi-building, street-stomping experience I had expected it to be.

But the walk-leads seemed kicked about it and it was a nice lively bunch of walkers. The cheer was infectious and I stepped into the building feeling enthusiastic if a little tentative.

After a quick walk down through the brown-marbelled main corridor and an elevator ride we were in the innards of the building. Times staff swiftly guided us to the Times Archive in a corner of the floor. On entering we were handed over to the energetic and passionate deputy manager of the archives.

Mr. Koshy was an institution of sorts with some 36 years of experience in the archives. Now a motley bunch of intruders into your office would drive anyone wild. Koshy, however, seemed to take considerable joy in quickly sketching out the history of the archives and showing us how the data preservation, microfilming and extraction processes worked. Soon, in his thick jovial malayali accent, he showed us what most of us had come for. Microfilm images of some of the more memorable newsaper pages. I was able to see blow-ups of the Independence Day issue from 1947 and the 1862 issue when the “Times of India” masthead was adopted.

Little has changed in Bombay going by those old broadsheets. There were advertisements for houses on rent, wines, beers and spirits, and even a ship for the exclusive transport of opium. Even back then the city knew its priorities. There was also a curious little ad for a second hand harmonium. Ah the great vices of Mumbai: wine, song and err.. housing.

We then walked around the office to the reading room, one wall of which was lined with framed representations of first-issue covers. One of the women walkers seemed to know her way around the office and even seemed to know some of the people on the covers, some popular even today. But everyone was flummoxed by the pretty woman on the first Femina. In my infinite wisdom I suggested it could be Rita Faria, our first Miss World. I was immediately, and with uncommon severity for heritage walker, rebuked by the well informed woman-walker. Note to self: Do not publicly volunteer information to elder women especially if Rita Faria went to school with them for ten years. (What are the odds.)

Note: The archive is available for public use. Contact the office directly.

Next stop: Victoria Terminus: The building they call the Taj of the Raj.

After profusely thanking Mr. Koshy we marched out, down and up through the subway and in through the large main gates of a most breath-taking building. The grandeur, gothic architecture and brilliant story-telling by the walk-leads transported us to an age gone by and evoked the “Victoria” term in us. (Hehe. sorry.)

While any idiot can stand in front of the Terminus building and be overawed by the sheer size and overall opulence of the building, it needs a keen eye and a good guide to really help you appreciate the building for all its worth. Both Abha and Shradha knew all there was to know about the World Heritage Monument and we soon broke into two groups for enunciatory ease.

Shradha talked us through the earliest history of the terminus when it was merely a locomotive shed down to the modern day when it has become a sad untended relic in the hands of the evil Central Railways.

The railways have played a great role in the development of Bombay into a commercial nerve centre over the last two centuries or so. From the day the the first train pioneered the 21 miles from Boribunder to Thane the railways have been a central part of the Mumbai soul. And the Victoria Terminus building embodies this story of progress and advancement. The architect, Frederick William Stevens, has tried to capture every possible nuance of the history, geography, people, flora and fauna in the intricate details of the building.

While it is easy to be carried away by the domes, the windows and the imposing sculpted busts on the frontage of the building, there is much delight hidden away in the small ornamental carvings topping the arches and columns. Squirrels, owls and other small birds and creatures are sculpted with fascinating detail. The exterior of the building alone evoked many oohs and aahs from the walkers.

Once we stepped inside the small square central atrium the feeling of awe was complete. We were standing right underneath the imposing central octagonal dome and on all four sides a cantilevered stone staircase snaked all the way to the top. The way Stevens had reduced the 8 sides of the octagonal dome to a square base was sheer architectural genius. Anyone who had walked in then would have seen a bunch of forty or so people all standing motionless with gaping mouths at the view that soared above.

So it was a complete dampener of spirits that a building of such splendour has been closed to the public. Not to mention that photography was dissalowed. Given a choice the 40 or so of us would have happily shifted the Central Railways office ourselves then and there. If only to catch a little more of the wonders the building held in secret inside.

As we walked out of the VT gates I must admit that VT did make up for the somewhat short mandate of the Heritage Walk. Shradha and Abha deserve heaps of credit for their patience and diligence in making us appreciate the finer details of the architecture, the history of the building in particular and the story of the city at large. Mail them on heritagewalks@hotmail.com to participate in some of the frequent walks they organize all over Bombay.

In the meantime I was off to Horniman Circle to catch Hamlet.