Kala Ghoda by Kavita Shivdasani

13/02/2010 Heritage Evening Walk – Kala Ghoda Precinct, Bombay exclusively for my Environment Class Children (8 – 13 year olds)

The excursion inadvertently happened to be on the day of the appalling attack on the German Bakery in Pune, three blocks away from my previous residence and on the second last day of the annual Kala Ghoda festival.

I was swamped with calls from frantic parents trying to locate where I was waiting in the maddening crowd to set-off on our Heritage route from the Kala Ghoda Circle.

The noise all around was deafening as I tried to telephonically explain to Abhinav one of the enlightened dads and a volunteer that we were on the pavement below the “Kala Ghoda’ plainly meaning black horse to which he kept insisting that the ‘Kala Ghoda’ of the Kala Ghoda Circle had been relocated to the Byculla Zoo! Tongue-in-cheek I explained that the Heritage committee had probably foreseen my dilemma and had kindly reinstalled the horse albeit with one that was a phony pony!

The original Kala Ghoda (after which this part of the Fort area is named) with King Edward VII astride was cast in bronze and cost 12,500 pounds sterling (1875) and was installed to commemorate his visit to the Bombay Presidency. The statue of the British Monarch was later damaged by political activists and the ‘Kala Ghoda’ was moved to the Byculla Zoo or Jijimata Udyan.

After the Kala Ghoda fiasco to mark my location I tried to explain to another frantic mum that I was on the pavement opposite the David Sassoon Library with no luck, when another enterprising mum who had located me suggested I state the location as opposite Westside and we scored a bull’s-eye!

Most of these graceful testimonials today are identified by gaudy neon hoardings and outrageous colors used in the guise of adornment and not for the splendor of it's classical structure of stone arches, pillars, elegant pediments, cornices, minarets and domes.

Irritated by such unawareness on part of regular residents of Bombay I tersely responded to young Jeff Berlin’s drawling request for directions asking him to meet us on Synagogue Street behind Rhythm house as I subconsciously tried to identify whose parent this one might be and mentally prepared myself to deliver a pithy lecture. My mortification was twofold because Jeff beat us to the destination and I recollected that he was in Bombay for a 6 month stint with a law firm and a common friend had requested he join the tour. Pithy lecture was ancient history and I was profusely apologetic.

The route covered the heart of art, culture and education - Kala Ghoda Circle and Jehangir Art Gallery to the Knesset Eliyahoo Synagogue thence to Bombay University and Rajabai Towers to Watson Esplanade Hotel and through the arcaded walk to Army Navy Building, David Sassoon Library, Elphinston College, Institute of Science and via the Wellington Circle from where we had the opportunity to view diverse architectural styles of Regal Cinema, Majestic Hotel, Waterloo Mansion, The Science Institute, The Prince of Wales Museum and The Maharashtra State Police Headquarters. This was followed by a halt outside Dhunraj Mahal ending at The Gateway of India on the site of the earlier Apollo ‘Bunder’ or wharf and not monkey

Our collection of 26 children and 12 adults trooped steadfastly eyeing with wonder the precisely laid floral Minton tiles each intricate piece fitted together much like a jig-saw puzzle, the dilapidated condition of the once posh Watson Esplanade Hotel and the arcaded walk that has preserved a sense of continuity despite the wide ranging architectural styles that sets apart this precinct.

As I gazed out from the balcony of the David Sassoon Library at the fake Kala Ghoda in the distance and bright lights of the Festival, I was saddened by crass, commercial and messy affair this defining cultural event has deteriorated into.

Nostradamus the French seer once predicted “the sea shall rise and swallow” a region which according to geographical calculation was possibly ‘Ila da boa vida’ or our Bombay ‘the island of good life’. The diviner it appears erred in a sense. This once idyllic blend of seven islands if not in immediate danger of death by drowning is definitely in imminent peril of being engulfed by the collective spitting and dumping of piles of trash on the road by its own people.