The Naval Dockyard walk, Sunday morning, is a disappointment. Captain Talwar, the Navy official guiding us, is genial and funny, but he seems unaware of the heat, and of the composition of the audience. At the beginning and at every stop, he talks at great length. The scraps of shade are not enough for the couple of hundred of us, so the rest must stand in the sun, which is quickly too much to bear for the several older people in our group. And there are also several young kids, who are quickly bored.

The entrance to the dockyard has two lanes, one marked “four wheelers only” (words to that effect). A truck drives in, and the young boy beside me points out excitedly: “It’s a six-wheeler! It shouldn’t be allowed!” True: at the rear, the vehicle has two wheels on each side.

Immediately around the corner from there is a touching memorial to the “unknown worker.” I like that, somehow. Across the road is a banner that lists the “core values” of the Indian Navy:

Patriotism and Loyalty
Resolve and Fighting Spirit

Integrity and Honesty
Duty and Commitment
Example

Later, Captain Talwar tells us about how “Al-Omani” island became British-ized to “Old Woman” island, and how “Pal Bunder” became “Apollo Bunder”. These Britishers are crazy. And we also learned that the ship Minden, built right here in 1810, fought outside Baltimore during the 1812 War there, and it was on this ship that Francis Scott Key woke one morning, saw Old Glory still flying, and composed the Star-Spangled Banner. Besides, one more ship built here, the Trincomalee, is the second-oldest ship in the world that’s still afloat. (The first being the USS Constitution).

I love these tidbits of history.

Two ship’s steering wheels in the “Motivation Hall” - a sort of museum at the start of the tour. They have been polished and re-painted. This last, I know because on the face I read that the maker of these instruments is “A Robinson and Co”, of “Liverpool and Clascow”. (No typo, Clascow).

We get a good idea of how a dry dock works, why it is necessary and why it is such a valuable asset. We see two whale-like submarines and some other warships, hoisted up on pontoons. Men wandering below one of the ships, and I cannot help the macabre vision of the stands collapsing and the ship falling. (Doesn’t happen).

In the Duncan Dock, Captain Talwar tells us there is an unexplained source of fresh water, though it is not used for drinking. As we get there, he tells us that if we go look, we’ll see two men taking a bath in that water. So immediately, these two men have an audience several dozen strong, gawking as they lather and rinse themselves off. Why, I would have liked to ask the good Captain, make a spectacle of them?

A board we pass soon after reads, “Toilet for Ships”.

A piece of paper up on a wall lists a “Cricket Draw”. Matches are scheduled between “C of Y” and “MAST”, between “C.65? and “Ghatkopar”, between “C.37,38? and “MEPS” and between “MWEA” and “DAS-81?. When I last played a cricket tournament, oh about 50 years ago, we named our team “Tu Chal Mein Aaya” (”You Carry On, I’m Coming”).

No offence to the Navy, I like our name better.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Yazad Jal

Right now I’m supposed to be walking around the Oval, taking in the heritage sights and sounds. Unfortunately, at 5 pm, when the walk was to start opposite Rajabai Tower, a Kala Ghoda crew member softly announces that the walk was already over. It started at 10:30 am today!

Not possible. I’d checked the schedule from the official Kala Ghoda website and it says 5 pm. Here’s a snapshot of the page:

This blog had 10:30 am as the time. I wasn’t sure, so I went with the “official” website. Should trust one’s co-bloggers more! Just to double check I went to the help desk and the schedule there had it as 10:30 am. So can’t complain too much. Damn, if only all the schedules matched!

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Akshay Mahajan

I walked through the portals into a different realm, into a world old, forgotten, endangered but not lost. David Sassoon Library is one such building that emulates this feelings of time warp I seem to love. Wood panelled chambers littered with ancient, framed etchings of Bombay old and in the background played the cacophonous sound of Mumbai new. At first glance you get a sense you are walking into a old boys club where you will see middle-aged men smoking cuban cigars and drinking single malt whisky in kangaroo leather armchairs. This sense quickly wears out to one of academic enrichment as the wood panelled walls give aways to rows of aged rosewood bookshelves. Crumply, crisp, chlorine free brown pages bound together in leather jackets embellished with worn out titles. I took the passport The Kala Ghoda Festival gave me to feel free and explore. Yippie !!

[David Sassoon in alabaster and light]

Exit to the back and you are in garden green, inhabitated by shady pastures, cats and mosquitoes.

Looking on to the Kala Ghoda, on Rampart Row, this Romanesque structure, completed in 1870, is built from the same yellow Malad stone as the rest of the buildings in the row- Elphinstone College, the Army and Navy Building and Watson’s Hotel.

Source: Kaumudi Marathe in Times of India

[1st Floor of the Library. Rows of books and silient book worms to go]

[Balcony looking onto Kala Ghoda.]

Up a spiralling staircase and you are greeted with more large pannelling windows staring down at you.

Now, to the crowning glory of this grand building - the clock chamber.

That ends our photo-tour of “David Sassoon Library and Reading Room“

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by ken

The Times of India security personnel cast suspicious eyes towards the crowd of people gathered outside the building. They had an inkling of what this was all about, but weren’t exactly ga-ga about it. As Abha, the guide, took the third batch of people through a whirlwind session of Bombay and its origins, several passers-by joined the pack; which was beginning to take the shape of a pregnant C. Planet M, next door, provided the biggest addition of onlookers. And some got hooked.

While the origins of Mumbai, from seven islands to commercial capital of India, are now quite well-documented, certain details never fail to make you cock up and listen. The Times of India for instance, originally had its offices in the Bazaar area, behind the GPO, and its current location is where they used to store cotton bales. The Grand old Lady of Bori Bunder, an acronym from the belly of the past. Bori, for sack and Bunder, a landing for boats. Even if you try and stretch the imagination, it is hard to fathom that there used to be a bay where the Times of India now stands, that the Victoria Terminus (VT) was built on reclaimed land. In the age of Google Earth maps and global positioning systems, Abha encouraged the crowd to use the mind as a crosshair and visualise the fort walls, 40-feet wide, beginning from Lion Gate and stretching right down to St George hospital.

There were several historical tidbits that would today be slotted as trivia: The Portuguese were only interested in converting Indians to Christianity and setting up churches, but when the island was gifted in 1661, the English realised its value. Our beloved city was leased to the East India Company for a royal sum of nine pounds per annum. There were several audible chuckles at this point. Everyone’s heard of Apollo Bunder, but not many know that the Apollo is a corruption of Palwa, a fish found in Bombay waters, and has nothing to do with the Greek God.

Inside the Times of India building, the ‘walkers’ were granted the privilege of seeing the front page of the first edition of the newspaper (November 3, 1838). Many were surprised to see that the page was full of only advertisements. And a couple of women, piggybacking through time with an ad for tables, began comparing prices of furniture, now and then. The cynics (or shall we say, realists?) said, Wow, the Times of India has come full circle.

Also interesting, was the Independence Day edition of the paper, with the left-hand side having a picture of Gandhi and the right-hand side portraying Jinnah. Poignant. The top left and right corners had two ironic ads. One read, For Leaks, please call. and the other was for Talcum powder - when the country was being torn apart by the blood of partition and waking up to the smell of freedom.

Onward march to Victoria Terminus, then, and the air was heavy with expectation of nightfall. Few sights rival the swathed-in-mango-light Victoria Terminus, under the stars. While we waited for the lights, Abha took a class in the history of the structure. VT took ten years to build and few might be aware of what an ‘of the people, by the people and for the people’ endeavour it was. From the statues of the lion (British) and the tiger (Indian) at the entrance, to the sixteen faces of native tribes sculpted in stone, the edifice is a tribute to cross-pollination. Students from the JJ School of Art were commissioned to sketch the carvings, busts and sculptures, which were then cast in stone by the genius architect-designer, Frederick Williams Stevens. The Central Railway is the oldest in Asia and its peculiar style of Indo-Gothic architecture hard to find anywhere in the world.

An officer spying the ‘walkers’ was spotted on the second floor balcony, his khaki uniform blending beautifully with the basalt and limestone construction. A priceless snap for the memory. Victoria Terminus is as gorgeous within, as it is without. Cast iron rails, Italian marble and the stone carvings of birds and rodents round off its exquisite looks. One quickly runs out of superlatives and adjectives to describe its magnificence.

Call it corny, but standing under the same arch as the police officer, one floor below, I let my gaze wander across the street where the city was gyrating to the movement of peak-hour travellers rushing home. Perhaps it was a privilege to be part of the walk, but as Abha pointed out several times during the walk, citizens should be given a chance to understand and enjoy their heritage. Not fight for permissions and bureaucracy to get a couple of hours to relish what is rightfully ours.

If you feel for the heritage of this city, mail heritagewalks@hotmail.com

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Dilip D’souza

I’ve been in the Bombay High Court plenty of times. Today as those times, it is a depressing place. The shabby way it is kept - wires and paan stains everywhere, random unpleasant aromas, the crass ugliness of whatever’s been added to the handsome buildings since it was first built. Did I say depressing?

Yes, try the white elevator shaft that has been grafted onto the southern wing of the building.

But I want to leave you, as I left the walk, with just a couple of things about the High Court. As you ascend the central stairs, you pass an intricately carved plaque telling you about how it was built. Note there that the “estimate as sanctioned” for building it was Rs 1,647,196. Note that the “actual cost” for building it was Rs 1,644,528.

I have come across only one other public building that has two totals like this publicly displayed, and that was in a tiny village in Purulia District, West Bengal. I would love to know if there are modern buildings that have such declarations.

Also on the plaque is the name of the “assistant engineer in charge”. Before I tell you his name, let me say that if there’s one thing I love the British for, it’s for the way they spelled our names. Yes, how can you not smile at “Rao Bahadur Muckoond Ramchundra”?

Up on the second floor is Court #46, a magnificent room where on one wall you will find boards listing the “Chief Justices of the Bombay High Court”, and on the opposite wall you will find boards listing the “Puisne Judges of the Bombay High Court.” In vain will you search in this magnificent room for an explanation for what “puisne” means, or even how it should be pronounced.

(My guess: “Pune”. Meaning, I’m guessing these are the judges at the Bombay High Court from the fair city of Pune. In vain did I search for boards listing the “Gadchiroli Judges of the Bombay High Court”).

And finally, this room is filled with history. Bal Gangadhar (”Lokmanya”) Tilak was tried here, and when he was sentenced he said a few words that are inscribed on another plaque outside, and these are those words.

Coming up now, I won’t make you wait.

In spite of the verdict of the jury, I maintain my innocence. There are higher powers that rule the destiny of men and nations. It may be the will of Providence that the cause I represent may prosper by suffering than by remaining free.

If we could only find it in ourselves to better preserve this spot where that giant among men once said that.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Dilip D’souza

The guy at the machine beside me at this tiny internet joint has a Brooke someone up on his screen nearly nude and doing some, shall we say, things - so I plan to write this in a very big hurry.

Over at the University, Abha explains about the yellow Malad stone and the buff Porbandar limestone that have been extensively used. Here, the Porbandar stone has worn well. In other places, it’s had to have regular restoration done, which involves - gotta love these architectural terms - a “sacrificial layer” of limestone. In the sense that that is what gets affected by acid rain and pollution and smeared fingerprints and the like, and eventually breaks off. The rest of it remains.

And she also points out way up on the being-restored Convocation Hall, and tells us that a particular drain of sorts we see there, she has actually seen rain water flowing out through it. Rare, because most like that are now blocked off, like the ones at VT. And in fact, that’s sort of how these particular drains get their names - from the word “gargle”, referring to water in the throat, and thus “gargoyle.”

Yeah, gotta love these architectural terms.

There was also a story about how at the 37th Convocation in 1899 (?), the master of ceremonies (?) appeared without his ceremonial gown (?) or clothes (?) or some such, and was made to offer a public apology (?) for his negligence. I’m sorry I didn’t get the details down right, this note-taker was busy admiring the drain up high. Though it did strike me that these days, such an occurrence would be reason enough not for an apology, but for applause and perhaps a major national award. Why not?

Shamefaced confession here: I believe today was the first time I have set foot in the University library, and boy am I ashamed that it took me all of these 87 years to do it! What a magnificent place. What a magnificent vaulted ceiling, what a sense of light through the tall panels of stained glass. (Though B, a school friend met after years who was also on the walk, informs me that this is not stained, but painted glass. Never mind). (This is also an opportune place to reveal that I had a crush on you, Ms B. Might as well admit it now).

And the books! Just wandering around, I ran into several that I’ve always wanted to read: like the “Irshad-Ul-Taliban”, and the “World Survey of Education”, and “Fairs and Festivals of India in 5 Volumes”, and the “Dictionary of Logical Terms and Symbols” (wanted to look up non-sequitur in there but then decided I’d be better off checking Wikipedia). Also a huge, I mean huge book of delightful illustrations, titled “Results of a Scientific Mission to India and High Asia” by Hermann Adolpho and Robert de Schlagintweit, written in 1861.

(OK, I haven’t wanted to read all these, though now I do). (And I’m sure the library has plenty of other books too, which I plan to find a way to go devour soon).

There is also a bust of Henry Fawcett that’s 100 years old this year. I don’t know who he is, but I did read the back of the bust, which says “HR Hope Pinker, Sculptor, London 1906). I hope the University is planning an appropriate celebration.

Outside, we spend a few minutes looking up at the Rajabai Tower and its functioning clock faces. Quite a change from the tower at Pilani, which in my time distinguished itself by never once, in 5 years, showing the same time on any two of its four faces. (I’ve applied for a Guinness World Record, so don’t you dare do so). We also wondered how to get in touch with the family, I believe, that has been winding that clock every day for generations. Sounds like a project.

Out onto the pavement, we stop at a shabby blue sign that says “RCC Mosquito Proof Well.” Large letters. Right outside the judges’ entrance to the High Court. Why does that particular feature need to be advertised? I kneel down to read the smaller notice carved in the stone at the base, and am immediately in danger of fainting from the powerful urine fumes. It may be mosquito proof, but its sides are being used to pee on. Or maybe that’s how it is mosquito proof, enough said.

And as we enter the High Court of Bombay, a man and a woman squeeze past, going out. And he’s shouting too, though not into a cellphone. Enough to have heads turning. (My head turning, at any rate). And I believe you need to know what he says.

It’s coming, now.

Right here.

We’re just sitting around waiting for that line, is what we’re doing.

Here it is.

Yup.

“There is good evidence for adultery!”

And on that note .

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Dilip D’souzaNot even the KGAF is enough to prevent smoke shooting out of my ears - I’ve just been typing for a good 45 minutes, and some peculiar inadvertent keystroke has taken away my outpourings! It’s enough to . well, here I go again.

Akshay’s marvelous photos (those of you others too, but I was just struck by Akshay’s shots of the steel flowers and the flute seller) that are below on this page have me intimidated enough that I forgot to bring my own camera with me for my first brush with the KGAF, this Monday morning. So if this post has no fine pix of mine, blame Akshay. Got that?

I’m going to tell you about this morning in reverse order. No particular reason, except that when we got done with our Oval Heritage Walk, outside the High Court, and after I said bye to all and shook hands and turned to leave, a man passed. And this man was shouting into his cellphone loud enough to shut down the KGAF, almost. And I heard one thing he said, and I want to share it with you.

Here it comes now.

Wait for it.

Yes, just about here.

We’re just sitting here waiting for this line to roll around, is what we’re doing.

Here it really comes.

Now.

” Aisa bolta hai kya tum ?”

“That’s what you’re saying?”

Not that it was particularly profound. Just loud. My eardrums are still reverberating. I think I still hear him.

So we started our Heritage Walk in the cool shade of the Oval Maidan, opposite the University buildings and behind the BEST buses and urinals. Luckily we were far enough from that last that we couldn’t smell them, but that lacuna was rectified later in the morning. We spent several minutes with Abha giving us a quick rundown of the history of Bombay, including the dramatic part where the city was a dowry for a queen (Catherine of Braganza in case anyone’s asking, and anyway go take a look at that Portuguese town sometime).

And I was also trying hard to imagine the sea lapping at the western edge of the Oval, as it did till about a century ago. The entire land area west of there was reclaimed in the early years of the 20th, and I would give anything to be transported back to watch that happen. How many suburban hills have vanished below the art-deco Queen’s Road buildings, KC College, Nariman Point and Marine Drive?

(About now, you’re wanting to know, what about the reverse story? I was just kidding, pal! Just wanted to tell you first, the skilled journalist that I am, about that yelling man).

Art-deco. Abha informs us that Bombay is home to the second-largest collection of art-deco architecture in the world, after . well, I expected to hear Berlin or Milan or some such, but no. It’s Miami. Who would have thunk? All the more reason to go to Miami, anyone willing to send me there to go look at art-deco and bronzed bodies? (Oops, scratch that latter).

It’s interesting the visualize the layout of the imperial statement that this area was, for the British. From the steps of the Asiatic Library, one axis arrows west through Horniman Circle, Flora Fountain and out to the sea. From the Gateway, the other axis bows north past Regal, along MG Road, to Fountain, DN Road and VT. And at the intersection of these two axes is Frere Fountain, named after Sir Bartle Frere who visualized all this, only the name has been transformed first to Flora Fountain then to Hutatma Chowk.

Go figure.

A man in the group asks, how come the water over at the Parsi well (between Fountain and Churchgate) is sweet, if the sea was so close once? Nobody has an answer. But the question does make us suddenly thirsty.

And that’s how we finally give up drinking in the charm of art-deco and turn to cross the road to the University/High Court side of the street. Of that, more in a bit.

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.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Akshay Mahajan

As I exited the cab I saw a small crowd assembled around what appeared to be large bronze plaque. They were congregating around a youngish looking woman in a salwar kameez, who was in the middle of a rather expressive monologue. The small motley bunch where buzzing with excitement, their eyes twinkling as they processed the information shared with them. I was late and all I could hear straining my ears was Times Archives and V.T.

Next the crowd was herded into the Times of India building and pushed into an elevator. It is here that I was re-acquainted with my co-bloggers Sidin and Yazad. We shared some “where were you” looks [mostly directed at me], and we continued on.

[Here’s a map :20 - Capital Cinema, 21 - Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, 22 - BMC Building, 23 - The Times of India Building ]

Stop 1: The Times of India Archive

Come to think about it there is not much ‘heritage’ in a public archive except the archive itself. I was expecting to see the hidden corners of the Grade 1 heritage structure that is the TOI Building and the history and stories one would associate with them .In that sense I was disappointed but the Archives were interesting all the same.

The Archive holds every Times of India newspaper the Bennett, Coleman & Co have ever published, since Saturday, November 3, 1838 . It was then called “The Bombay Times and Journal of Commerce“. Now you know where the popular (Page 3) supplement of the Times inherited its name!!

All the editions have been recorded on microfilm and are available to the public for a fee of Rs.50 an hour.

Our guide at the archive was friendly and garrulous - how I like my them and he attended all the questions asked to him well. If you are keen on additional information [on the Times of India] have look at the Wikipedia article in this [link]

Stop 2 : Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, Formerly: The Victoria Terminus

As we were ushered through the gates into the quadrangle in front of this building, it was hard not be dwarfed by the overall splendour of the building. The building stands there symmetrical, overpowering, inhumanly huge, ornate - a classical example of “Victorian Gothic Revival architecture” the guide tells me. It is a symbol of Mumbai and the second most photographed building in India after the Taj Mahal.
But sadly the best part of this building is closed to the public. This is the first time I am inside the building (though not for want of trying). Each time I have approached its grand wrought iron gates to take a better look I have been quickly shooed away by over-zealous guards. It is sad that a heritage so rich is “out of bounds” to the general public.
The crowning point of the entire of walk and a memorable moment all around was when we were taken to the main atrium of the building under the glorious octahedral dome. I know this is starting to sound a little clichéd but it was truly a sight to behold. A cantilever staircase circled upwards, intricately carved basalt lined the walls and for the centrepiece was the dome with stained glass surrounding it. As sunlight filtered down onto our faces the only thing all of us could do was to look up open mouthed in complete awe.(Sorry no photography was allowed,so just go for the next VT walk)

Kohlis, Marathas, Sultanates, Portuguese, British - Seven Islands, endless rulers and a lot of history. I am going to look out for this history in the several heritage walks organised by the Kala Ghoda Festival. If you are interested as I am don’t miss the other walks - the details of the program are provided here.

Today’s walk is the Kala Ghoda Walk which starts around 4:30p.m.

Comments

Comment by Samudrika on February 6, 2006 @ 9:52 pm

Random Trivia: The Victorian Gothic Revival Architecture also called the Neo-Gothic style became popular because as more people moved to live in cities, they yearned for the countryside with its flora and fauna. Hence the huge amount of flowers/leaves/animals that are depicted on these structures.

I enjoy reading about the history of Mumbai too. So I liked reading the posts about the heritage walks.

Comment by akshay on February 7, 2006 @ 2:04 pm

Samudrika thanks for the trivia. I always thought that Neo-Gothic has a very dark aspect to them - even they do have a natural element to them they’re uneven symmetry makes them stand out.