It’s a once-upon-a-chance that you may come across the few remaining quaint British bungalows sheltered by sprawling trees in the city, with their steeple roofs, Gopi coloured facade, and intricate trellises. This simple yet artistic colonial setting is a vivid contrast to the modern-day apartment blocks that threaten to overwhelm them.
Most of the owners of these more-than 100-year-old bungalows — scattered around Malleswaram, Cantonment area, Basavanagudi and Whitefield, originally retirement homes of the British — are fighting to keep them standing. Their maintenance kitty has to stretch to taking care of leaking roofs, crumbling wooden rafters and peeling plaster. Worse, they have to engage electricians who know little about the ancient circuitry. Yet, some of them make a standout success of it, and you see it in the freshly painted lime-and-mortar walls and immaculate monkey tops. But, there are many who have caved in to developers, who raze them to build 21st century apartments to accommodate the city’s burgeoning population.
While conservationists cry “where have they all gone?”, the owners are waging a private war: do they retain the ancestral home for the sake of nostalgia and family loyalty, or trade it for a tidy sum that will see them through a luxurious life far beyond retirement?
‘Bungalow 7’ near Richards Park in Fraser Town stands as a fine example of how restoration and business sense have transformed the building to its former glory.
Veena Mohan, its owner, knew that living in her family home would be difficult. “Developers had been badgering us for years to sell, but we wanted to preserve the heritage building. It deserves it. We opted to rent it out to friends, who would respect our heritage,” says Krishna Mohan, Veena’s husband. The Mohans had one pre-condition: keep the essential structure and maintain the dignity of the neighbourhood.
So, their friends Rosemary and Christopher Ratnam, event managers, took over the bungalow, and in six months restored it utilising the skills of a mason from Tamil Nadu whom they trusted. “The structure is strong; we didn’t find the work too difficult. It was mostly about logic and skill. And, I live in an ancestral home myself, so I am familiar with the structure,” says 70-year-old Ms. Rosemary. Work started in June 2014 and in December that year, the doors of the 11,000 sq. ft ‘Bungalow 7’ was opened to the public for events such as birthdays, wedding receptions and exhibitions.
“Veena’s family bought it from the British around 50 years ago. Richards Town was not so popular a place then. This area was very quiet; we used to play cricket on these roads,” recalls Mr. Krishna Mohan.
Across the road is Usha Kumar’s residence, ‘Rama Lakshmi’, named after her parents. The former lecturer of Mount Carmel College, moved into the Clarke Road residence 15 years ago. Her grandfather V. Paupiah Naidu had bought six bungalows in the area from the British in 1925 and now they belong to his grandchildren. “It is a challenge to retain the building. Some see it as a waste of money. Developers offer constant temptation. I get calls from them at least once in two months. But we love owning this. We like the quaintness, and somehow we manage. Sometimes, I ask myself why I struggle so much. Shouldn’t I just sell it? But my two sons are passionate and possessive about the house,” she says.
How delicate the walls of her house are became apparent when her musician son brought in his band to the central room of the house. When the music started, the plaster started falling off! “Back in the 1960s, dad used to bring us to Richards Park every Sunday evening. There used to be a bandstand there. And by 5.45 p.m., he used to hustle us out of there because it was so quiet and dark.” Today, you have vendors lined all along the perimeter of the park, catering to the milling public.
Karun Kumbera, architect and urbanist, who runs his office in a similar bungalow on High Street, Fraser Town, is in empathy with the travails of private owners. “In Tranquebar, near Puducherry, INTACH took up the restoration of houses of fisher folk. The locals found this an advantage as their Dutch-style houses were dilapidated. It was sensitively restored using original material. But here in Bengaluru, there are urban land pressures. Rather than being nostalgic, we have to question the historical or qualitative significance of restoration. The owner has to be compliant. Sometimes, developers offer crores of rupees with free apartments in exchange for the land. Who can refuse?”
Speaking of which …
Meera Iyer , INTACH Bengaluru co-convener:
INTACH Bengaluru submitted a draft legislation for heritage conservation to the State government around seven years ago, but...
Some States have regulations for conserving heritage structures. In the Muziris Heritage Project, the Kerala government, through an integrated development plan, restored houses for free, but on one condition: keep one room open to the public. The locals were at first sceptical, but more and more people are now requesting for restoration of their homes.
Pankaj Modi , conservation architect and volunteer with INTACH:
The first step is to identify government buildings and evolve a protection mechanism, because the first initiative must be from the govt. The next stage would be private buildings. Recently, the Mysuru plan that was adopted has such a mechanism and it has identified buildings that need protection. It should be a model for us. Going forward, the govt. could subsidise property tax or loan for restoration for private owners.
INTACH is ready to provide technical assistance to private owners for a nominal fee. We evaluate, give advice on how to maintain the heritage character, and the costs involved. We offer the right way to do it.
Krupa Rajangam , architect, who makes short films on Bengaluru’s neighbourhoods to help citizens reconnect with history:
There are only a few of these heritage buildings left in the city. There is no single reason for it. It could be the difficulty to manage as you have to care deeply to retain them. Or they have outlived their potential and it’s a solution to give it up to developers.
What comes in the way of conservation is the image and mindset of this city. Putting a tag to a city works: Mysuru is known as the heritage city, but Bengaluru is the IT capital. So we grew into a phoenix called the IT capital, and now we have to address its economics and infrastructure.
To encourage conservation and to mark World Heritage Day, INTACH Bengaluru in 2015 instituted awards (for both govt. and pvt. buildings) in appreciation of the effort of handling such heritage structures
