The old residents have all gone away

kolkata: the narrow wooden staircase tucked between shop-fronts on waterloo street can easily be missed, as can the weathered nameplates and letter boxes at the entrance. up the stairs, the rooms are high-ceilinged and cool. the waiting chamber — its walls lined with bengal school originals — overlooks a small flower-potted terrace. barin roy, aesthete and dental surgeon, takes obvious pride in his lineage.originally from the tarakeshwar-chandannagar belt of hooghly, the family moved to the city in 1952, and roy started his practice from 1956. “waterloo street has always been part of the central business district,� roy ruminates, “in the 1950’s there were offices and shops at the ground level, and above them lived first generation anglo indians. some of them were police sergeants who were also accomplished football and hockey players.� after working hours, the locality would receded into silence. the footpaths were clear and even and water hydrants were used twice a day to keep the street clean. “gaslights would create a romantic aura. i used to be reminded of chaplin’s limelight when they were lit.� the great eastern hotel across the road was then the best in town and definitely the showpiece of the para. the clientele was still mainly european and the cuisine and service top quality. “nothing better east of suez,� recalled roy, who was a frequent customer. over the years, properties along this link lane have changed hands several times, and many old residents have moved. “now the saheb para has turned into durwan para. only the office watch and ward staff stay in these buildings after dark.� mercifully, the raj architecture and ambience have remained and no highrises have come up as an eyesore here. waterloo street is best known for its bars and restaurants, than landmark establishments like singer and avery. amber and sagar, manthan and song hay, elfin, aliya’s and the food plaza at dacres lane ensure a steady flow of cars and noisy revellers late into the night. adding to the din are two recent roadside mandirs. “there’s no way we can go to bed early,� roy rues. not that the good dentist is a recluse though. roy has no neighbours to speak of but his house has always been open to interesting people from all professions. his mother’s family was close to the tagores and hence the initiation to literature and music. a regular adda came up as early as 1939 and later got converted into a jumma jamait, a friday evening gathering of artists, singers ,poets, actors and intellectuals of every description. regulars included film personalities like kanan debi, jahar ganguly, pahari sanyal and robi ghosh, writers like niren chakrabarti, ramapada chowdhury and sakti chattopadhyay and singers like hemanta mukherjee and shyamal mitra. the adda session continues today, drawing present day glitterati — kabir suman, the late pijush kanti sarkar, sajida khatoon, kalim sharafi and doyens of rabindra sangeet from across the border. roy’s clients comprise the city’s who’s who. “every chief minister from bc roy to buddhadeb bhattacharjee, except siddhartha ray, has been either my cousin’s or my charge.� yet the doctor misses his old anglo-indian patients. besides, living in the office para is not the same anymore. street-level crime has increased, the hotel portico, pavements and parks nearby are now full of vagrants and stragglers. the roy’s have become more security conscious, and installed a collapsible gate and rolling shutters below the stairs. but have they ever considered moving out? “not really,� says the doctor. “this place is so central and convenient, the markets, cinema halls, the eateries, the maidan and the metro are all within walking distance. our friends don’t complain either. besides, waterloo street is the perfect address for a doctor. sounds very british, like harley street doesn’t it?