Rein Of Fear

Kolkata: Nobody who’s ever taken a stroll around the Kolkata Maidan, especially around the Victoria Memorial, could have missed them: a queue of garishly decorated horse-drawn carriages, hitched to pathetic, rickety horses that look like they are liable to collapse any time, the seldom-busy coachmen, haggling with a joyride-seeker.
Life is certainly no joyride for those who are directly involved in the city’s horse-drawn carriage business.An anachronism in the 21st century, but evoking shades of the British Raj, when Calcutta used to be the ‘Second city of the Empire’, it’s easy to see why business is dwindling, drowned out by the cacophony of a busy city that has no time for it except for quaint joyrides in the backdrop of heritage architecture and the greenery that makes the Maidan Kolkata’s lungs.
Without mincing words, it’s safe to say that the future of this over two-century-old transport business, dating back to 1780 and 1782 — the days of Warren Hastings — is very uncertain.
Anjan Mondal, who owns a phaeton, like his forefathers, has no qualms admitting that the trade is dying. “I now get a maximum of two riders during the weekends and earn less than Rs 500. That does not even cover the cost of a horse’s fodder for a week, or even the routine maintenance of carriages,” he says.
“Things,” he says, “were very different even 20 years back. The roads were less congested and we used to have many patrons for a trip around the Maidan and Fort William. These days, the roads are much more congested and we hardly get anyone.”
And it’s much worse in the summer months, Mondal says. “Even the little earning dries up, when people avoid taking phaeton rides because of the searing heat. Let alone carts, even the regular upkeep of horses becomes too much of a financial burden on us during summers. Each horse has to be fed around 5kg fodder, including oats, hay, chhole, chhole dust and vegetables. We cannot take them out to the Maidan for grazing, because of the scorching sun. That would be inhumane, although it might save us some money.”
What, then, is the solution? According to Mondal, a little push from the government is needed. “The government needs to spare a thought for us, if they want this old city tradition to stop dying out.”
Introduced in the latter part of the 18th century, on the lines of London, horse-drawn carriages were used to transport both people and goods. In fact, phaetons and hansoms were used as cabs in British Calcutta, when motor cars were in their nascence, and continued to be used in that manner till the first few decades of the 20th century.
Hansoms were used by both Britons and babus. Manmathanath Mullick, a descendant of the premier Mullick family at Pathurighata, north Kolkata, even had a stand-out carriage in his fleet of nine carriages, which was drawn by a pair of zebras that he bought from the Alipore zoo.
At the time of the first war of Independence in 1857, phaetons were even used to carry garbage, according to the Kolkata Municipal Corporation’s (KMC) records. The British government bought horses at Rs 12 each for this purpose.
In 1880, Lord Ripon, the then viceroy, flagged off horse-drawn tram services between Sealdah and Armenian Ghat.
The 1930 yearbook of the KMC shows that horse-drawn carriages were of three classes: a first-class ride charged people 3 annas (16 paisas), second-class 2.5 annas (13 paisas), while third-class carriages were 1.25 annas (7.5 paisas) per mile.
The records also show that there were 122 first-class carriages, 1,418 second-class carriages and 558 third-class carriages plying in the city about nine decades back. At that time, the corporation used to regulate the fares of these hackney carriages, which are now no longer considered public transport.
Several hammer blows in the past few decades — inevitable in the changing times — have brought the business to its knees. In the 60s, the government restricted the movements of the carriages on major thoroughfares in order to ease traffic congestion. After two decades came another blow: the carriages were struck off the list of ‘public transport’ vehicles.
It was then that the carriage-owners decided to take people around for joyrides near Victoria Memorial and also started letting out their vehicles for special occasions like weddings. In the recent past, the government ordered the phaeton stand to be relocated from Victoria Memorial, as horse manure was polluting the precincts.
Now, the 35 phaetons that ply around the Maidan have no regulated fare, with the owners charging whatever they can after haggling, usually about Rs 200 to Rs 300 for a 15-minute round trip from the north gate of Victoria Memorial to Fort William.
“We cannot even think of earning a profit from this business,” says Bholu, Mondal’s helper. “More often than not, people are unwilling to pay even Rs 200 or so for round trips. This business is on its last legs.”
Each carriage makes, at most, three rides a day. “The owner gets 70% of a day’s earnings, the rest distributed among the labourers. The owner, after all, has to spend on maintenance and fodder. Besides, the carriages also have to be cleaned and maintained regularly, otherwise passengers complain of the stink, and refuse to pay the full fare,” says Ismail, a carriage owner.
“My grandfather, who used to ply a hansom in Kidderpore, Alipore and Chetla before Independence, had much better earnings, compared with what I get or what my father got 35 years ago,” Ismail laments. “My grandfather solely banked on flying passengers and, in those days, horse-drawn carriages were as good as motor cabs. After the hansom broke down, my father started plying a phaeton, which I inherited after his demise 10 years ago. While my father used to bring home not less than Rs 50 daily during the 1980s, I don’t even earn Rs 200 every day.”
Cut to Rajabazar, especially during the wedding season, and you’ll probably spot a long procession, the centre of attraction of which is a phaeton, beautifully done up with flowers and garlands, in which sit a bride and groom. Though these carriages are let out for weddings, it’s too irregular and too little for it to rake in satisfactory revenue.
“We usually get Rs 500 to Rs 800 from the baraats,” says Bholu. “But we get not more than five or six wedding parties per year. Sometimes, they are even interested in paying Rs 1,000 or so for baraats on congested roads in south or north Kolkata, but we turn them down, fearing that our horses might be hit by the vehicles. Besides, the phaetons cannot ply in just any part of the city.”
Moved by the plight of the horses and their owners, an NGO — Love N Care for Animals — has lent a helping hand by distributing free medicines for the horses. That may not do much to rejuvenate the moribund state of the business, but it gives the owners a little respite.
“Many of the phaeton owners are too poor to afford the daily upkeep of the horses. That is why we give out free medicines for the treatment of the horses. For them, bearing the cost of the medicines is next to impossible,” says Susmita Roy, executive member of the NGO.
The only hope, feel the owners, is a boost from the government or the KMC. “It is true that horse-drawn carriages, which had come into use after palanquins, are of utmost historical importance. Though we have not mooted any welfare plan for them, we can try to help them out if they approach us for assistance,” says mayor Firhad Hakim.