Historic mansions crumbling due to official apathy

Historically rich, the Indian capital never ceases to amaze historians and tourists alike.

Nearly every other building reflects a glorious past but the city's inmates and its civic agencies remain callous in their attitude to the culture present in their own backyards.

Old Delhi's havelis (mansions) are an amazing blend of Mughal and Rajput architecture. Each mansion has a story to tell, but due to official apathy some of these imposing structures are crumbling. Illegal occupants have taken over without caring for any kind of maintenance of the structures.

Take Begum Samru's haveli for instance. The grandeur of Begum Sumru's haveli is taken over by the commercial chaos of Chandni Chowk. The 250-year old building houses the Central Bank of India and film distribution offices. Also, a big medicine market, selling spurious drugs, operates from these premises. The building has cracks in the walls and a portion of the ceiling is without plaster.

A few months ago the Municipal Corporation of Delhi and Delhi Tourism had decided upon a heritage trip across the historical Chandni Chowk. This was in accordance with the Supreme Court's judgement, making it compulsory for the civic bodies to conserve heritage buildings. But the state of neglect remains the same.

Once an imposing structure and home to the Mughal rulers, all that is left of the haveli are decrepit arched pavilions and a defaced outer wall. All signs of opulence have disappeared and shops now flank its impressive façade and the place has converted itself into a spice market.

Says Abdul Razaq, one of the old residents, "The haveli has a colourful past. It is believed that dancers used to frequent this place in old times. It is one of those unique buildings built during the fag end of the Mughal era."

Worse still is the condition of the haveli where poet Mirza Ghalib composed his immortal verses. This haveli in the bylanes of Ballimaran, Chandni Chowk, gives no inkling whatsoever that a poet of his stature once graced the structure. Ironically, what one hears today in the house are the clang of the hammer in a workshop constructed nearby and the chatter of people crowding the phone booth.

Says Sadat Hussain, "The nearly 100-odd havelis in the area are a symbol of neglect. These share space with ladies boutiques, shoe shops, bicycle parts, grocery stores and small-time restaurants. Owners have sold off parts of their residences to callous builders. Thus, havelis in the area are either crumbling or being converted into markets."

The romanticism associated with old Delhi, no doubt, diminishes on seeing some of the splendid mansions being relegated to the pages of history. Most have been ruined, or drastically altered or encroached upon.

Chunnamal's haveli is spread over one acre with more than 100 rooms built on three floors. It is inhabited by the tenth generation of the Chunnamal family. An inscription on the drawing room wall states that it was built in 1848. Litigation is on between the various family members over the place.

The fading grandeur of the city's art and architectural masterpieces speaks volumes about its preserving agency, the Archaeological Survey of India, which feigns an inability to do anything constructive.

On condition of anonymity an official said, "Dearth of manpower is one major factor for the neglect. Not all monuments have an attendant to look after maintenance and upkeep. Also, we have financial constraints."

Amjad Fehmy, a resident of Chandni Chowk, said, "It is not just the commercialisation of the old city that is responsible for the callousness. The owners of havelis do not have the money to pay for the upkeep."