3. Phulwari
Well demarcated by huge conifers, Phulwari was the place where all of us would be found from afternoon onwards, irrespective of the summer heat or winter chill. The lush green lawn where we used to play conventional games (football, running around playing Chooa-Chooii) or the really interesting Budhiya Kabaddi. This is a game that was improvised on the go. The basic tenets though rarely changed - two circles on either end of the garden where one team has to cross over from one end to the other, while the Budhiya from the other team obstructs the opponent and not allowing him to cross. Simple game, multiple memories!
There are many photos of all of us (we were more than 30 cousins) posing in the Phulwari. The two entrances to the Phulwari were from the verandah end and also from the front entrance end (there was no physical gate there, only a partition in between a huge wall on one side and a bamboo barricade on the other). The barricade side of the entrance had a cycle stand - this was a parking stand (simple life, simpler commute modes!) for all movie goers, as Jawahar Talkies was right across the road (I can count lots of buildings named after Pt Nehru but this one beats them all - who names a Cinema Theatre after him, probably the first in the country!).
The pathway from the main entrance towards the house was a patchy one, with Phulwari on its left. The entrance from the side had a tap - which would be always running. This tap was courtesy the municipal corporation water supply, which was again one of the rarest things to have in one's residence. Another thing that has remained with me after all these years is the distinct stench of the drain which encircled the entire house. The ever-running tap at the entrance and the other one in the Aangan were the main culprits. However, the bigger culprit was the callousness of the residents to ignore the wastage of water, as the water line didn't have any taps to stop the flow. It was just an open ended iron pipe which would start running as soon as the municipality started pumping water.
In later years, the verandah would become our 22-yards cricket pitch and Phulwari would become our mid-wicket region. This was a time when Tendulkar was not yet the legend we know and bowlers were still compared to Malcom Marshall or at best Kapil Dev. The eldest cousin of ours was an avid Marshall fan (his short stature and dark skin would add to the effect) and would bowl with all his might - imagine the pace with which the ball would be flying on a concrete pitch. The ball on most occasion would be a plastic ball since most of the older protective gears (from our other cricketing cousins) would have been either untraceable or stolen. Bats were always the regular heavy ones (we eventually moved to palm leaf stalk - quite symbolic of the decline of the affluence!). Ground was small, audience limited, fielders pretty much unused yet pace was Marshall-esque and every minor heroics forever etched in memory.
4. Verandah
The verandah (or was it meant to be a foyer?) and the two rooms attached to its front end, were once occupied by Bade Mama and his family. That is my earliest memory of the palatial house and as I think of it now, this part of the "property" has now been handed over to Chhote Mama. The two aisles on the either side of the house were the entrance for family members, while a guest would be made to generally wait at the wooden chowki at the verandah. On the outer side of the front end, after the pathway between the phulwari and the house there were a few steps leading to a huge empty space (which would later serve as our 22-yard concrete cricket pitch), which was the open part of verandah and then there were huge multiple cylindrical columns, connected by arched roof, which would make the house exude palatial vibes. This roof made the covered part of verandah. The wooden chowki was moved between the open and covered parts of the verandah as the season demanded or at the whims and fancy of an esteemed guest. Each time we visited the place either one of the aisles would serve as the house entrance. It still puzzles me to this day as to who used to decide about which aisle should be used on a given day.
Both the aisles also opened on the two front rooms. One of the rooms would serve as Guest room (or Drawing room as it was referred to), again mysteriously decided by don't know who, while the other would serve as the study room.
When we were kids the study room was quite fascinating to us. In one of the cupboards, we would find lot of fountain pens (I don't think ball-point pens even existed in those days), "Cricket Samrat" - the Hindi cricket magazine and all sort of interesting stuff like posters of popular cricketers - Dilip Vengsarkar, Mohinder Amarnath, Kapil Dev, Gavaskar.
There were palm trees on either side of verandah (which would later yield timber for our cricket bats), which divided the house from fields on either side. Invariably there were a few benches too on the verandah, which would serve as tables for water, lassi, milk, tea or other such welcome drink offered to the guest.
Well demarcated by huge conifers, Phulwari was the place where all of us would be found from afternoon onwards, irrespective of the summer heat or winter chill. The lush green lawn where we used to play conventional games (football, running around playing Chooa-Chooii) or the really interesting Budhiya Kabaddi. This is a game that was improvised on the go. The basic tenets though rarely changed - two circles on either end of the garden where one team has to cross over from one end to the other, while the Budhiya from the other team obstructs the opponent and not allowing him to cross. Simple game, multiple memories!
There are many photos of all of us (we were more than 30 cousins) posing in the Phulwari. The two entrances to the Phulwari were from the verandah end and also from the front entrance end (there was no physical gate there, only a partition in between a huge wall on one side and a bamboo barricade on the other). The barricade side of the entrance had a cycle stand - this was a parking stand (simple life, simpler commute modes!) for all movie goers, as Jawahar Talkies was right across the road (I can count lots of buildings named after Pt Nehru but this one beats them all - who names a Cinema Theatre after him, probably the first in the country!).
The pathway from the main entrance towards the house was a patchy one, with Phulwari on its left. The entrance from the side had a tap - which would be always running. This tap was courtesy the municipal corporation water supply, which was again one of the rarest things to have in one's residence. Another thing that has remained with me after all these years is the distinct stench of the drain which encircled the entire house. The ever-running tap at the entrance and the other one in the Aangan were the main culprits. However, the bigger culprit was the callousness of the residents to ignore the wastage of water, as the water line didn't have any taps to stop the flow. It was just an open ended iron pipe which would start running as soon as the municipality started pumping water.
In later years, the verandah would become our 22-yards cricket pitch and Phulwari would become our mid-wicket region. This was a time when Tendulkar was not yet the legend we know and bowlers were still compared to Malcom Marshall or at best Kapil Dev. The eldest cousin of ours was an avid Marshall fan (his short stature and dark skin would add to the effect) and would bowl with all his might - imagine the pace with which the ball would be flying on a concrete pitch. The ball on most occasion would be a plastic ball since most of the older protective gears (from our other cricketing cousins) would have been either untraceable or stolen. Bats were always the regular heavy ones (we eventually moved to palm leaf stalk - quite symbolic of the decline of the affluence!). Ground was small, audience limited, fielders pretty much unused yet pace was Marshall-esque and every minor heroics forever etched in memory.
4. Verandah
The verandah (or was it meant to be a foyer?) and the two rooms attached to its front end, were once occupied by Bade Mama and his family. That is my earliest memory of the palatial house and as I think of it now, this part of the "property" has now been handed over to Chhote Mama. The two aisles on the either side of the house were the entrance for family members, while a guest would be made to generally wait at the wooden chowki at the verandah. On the outer side of the front end, after the pathway between the phulwari and the house there were a few steps leading to a huge empty space (which would later serve as our 22-yard concrete cricket pitch), which was the open part of verandah and then there were huge multiple cylindrical columns, connected by arched roof, which would make the house exude palatial vibes. This roof made the covered part of verandah. The wooden chowki was moved between the open and covered parts of the verandah as the season demanded or at the whims and fancy of an esteemed guest. Each time we visited the place either one of the aisles would serve as the house entrance. It still puzzles me to this day as to who used to decide about which aisle should be used on a given day.
Both the aisles also opened on the two front rooms. One of the rooms would serve as Guest room (or Drawing room as it was referred to), again mysteriously decided by don't know who, while the other would serve as the study room.
When we were kids the study room was quite fascinating to us. In one of the cupboards, we would find lot of fountain pens (I don't think ball-point pens even existed in those days), "Cricket Samrat" - the Hindi cricket magazine and all sort of interesting stuff like posters of popular cricketers - Dilip Vengsarkar, Mohinder Amarnath, Kapil Dev, Gavaskar.
There were palm trees on either side of verandah (which would later yield timber for our cricket bats), which divided the house from fields on either side. Invariably there were a few benches too on the verandah, which would serve as tables for water, lassi, milk, tea or other such welcome drink offered to the guest.
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