Memory Lane

Some time or the other, we have tormented our minds with questions such as what our parents were like when they were young. What they did for leisure, for pleasure, for entertainment, for attainment, for adventure, and of course, where did they do it all.

In order to excavate that illusive parental past, we’ve gone to the extent of snooping for answers and in the course have hollered our aunts, uncles, grandpas, grandmas, the rarely common teachers and even that long lost friend of our parents who surfaced suddenly out of oblivion. But the greatest problem is that, all versions of the answers vary widely, wildly, weirdly and of course, vividly.

So how does one find an answer? To begin with, let’s put things into perspective. Our parents, in essence, were no different from us and our kids won’t be much different either. We have sufficient reason to believe that they hopefully won’t go to places much different from those that our forefathers, fathers and not to mention we, instinctively flock to.

Anyway, we shouldn’t digress. Grapevine has it that amongst the various hot-spots, the favourites have been the India Coffee House, Madras Mess, Rover’s and for the relatively elite, Benbos. The India Coffee House was a typical coffee shop. It was the intellectuals’ and politicians’ haunt. Lots of brain storming would happen here, crucial decisions would be taken, if nothing else then lots of leisure hours would be spent there amidst thick smoke gracing the air.

There has always been the studious lot who thronged the libraries. This cult had sufficient options available to provide them food for thought. “Hum log bahut movies nahin dekhte the, haan sabhi libraries ki membership zaroor le rakhi thi humne” recalls Dr Jyoti Bhushan Pandya, now an Ohio based Anesthetist, hailing from Lucknow. He was referring to the British Council Library, the American Cultural Centre, Acharya Narendra Dev Library and the Amir-uddaulah Public Library. He adds, “Our life was not really glamorous, we indulged in the so called Ganjing and window shopping and observation was a hobby. We would quiz each other on ‘did u see this’ and ‘did you see that’.”

This genre of youngsters would also not loiter around without sufficient reason. “I had my camera, so we would go around the monuments and the zoological garden experimenting with the camera, trying things learnt from books in the libraries,” reminisces R M Kapur, now a city based computer vendor.

Some words from Ramchandra Guha’s story called ‘The Wrath of The Grapes’ in the January 2003 edition of The Hindu are worth a mention here. He very aptly wrote, “For the young, ‘Going Ganjing’ meant parading your new clothes on the streets of Hazratganj; for the slightly older, it meant a triple pilgrimage to the Coffee House, the British Library, and Ram Advani.”

The movie buffs found solace at Mayfair, the best ever. It would only screen English movies and the rare Hindi classic. It was almost a cardinal rule that anybody visiting the city just had to watch a movie at Mayfair. This genre of opera lovers would predictably bunk college or claim to be studying at a friend’s place.

The brats would swagger in the Love lane until the Janpath market came up. It had small kiosks selling trinkets, foreign goods and some costume jewelry which would attract youngsters in droves. And the brats would go there to enjoy some thrill out of ‘accidentally’ rubbing the feminine shoulders in the labyrinth that it was. The Romeos would go to the Imambaras, The Residency and Dilkusha Gardens. One found enough proof of expression of undying love on the walls of these monuments.

There was the Devils playground in Cantonment on Sultanpur Road which was the army’s driving range. Youngsters would flock to the place to try their hand on some tricky driving equivalent to the stunts of today. This place was quite analogous to the 1.3 km long Marine Drive of Lucknow (the road opening on Gandhi Setu)--A place for the adventurous and a little brash.

But today, The India Coffee House and the Madras Mess bear poor resemblance to their past glory. The dear old Rover’s is going strong, for it chose to morph appropriately with time. Benbos, the symbol of affluence, though, has long since seized to exist, to the utter chagrin of its die-hard fixed clientele.

BCL and ACC are dead and Acharya Narendra Dev Public Library and Amiruddaulah libraries are nearing extinction, it’s only a matter of time now. There are no libraries to refer to anymore worth the name. Today’s typical youngster has to make do with his college library or trust the internet, an option he has gradually grown to trust and prefer. But the bibliophile still aches for the romance of a library.

Mayfair doesn’t project anymore. Ganjing has lost its original charm. Devils playground does not entertain civilians. Historical monuments do not invite. The libraries are defunct. Intellectual discussions? Coffee house? Does anybody ever say pahle aap?

Lucknow isn’t what it was, is it? Mull over it.