Reflections On Childhood Memories

My First Days in Chittaranjan Park: From Loneliness to a Life of Adventure

Reflections On Childhood Memories, Community Spirit, and the Changing Landscape of C R Park in the 1970s

 By Saibal Ghosh

It was an early morning of a foggy winter day in December 1976 that I woke up in Chittaranjan Park for the first time! As an eleven year old, looking around with both trepidation and a sense of loss and sorrow, this place seemed to offer an opportunity to explore but also gave a sense of being thrown at the outskirts of civilisation! With my spirits down due to leaving behind a vibrant group of friends and a comparatively ‘happening’ neighbourhood of Sector 1, R K Puram, my little heart wrenched at the idea of having to spend lonely and forlorn evenings!

 

Wherever I looked, I saw unfinished houses, empty plots of land, with some completed homes strewn here and there - as if consoling me and assuring me, “we are here, we are here”. Oh! Where will I get my faithful band of Pappi, Dumpy and his sister Geeta, Taini – the forever crying sardar and Mattu – the little cute sardar – all left behind in that neighbourhood of joy – R K Puram! My sorrow-dipped heart cried again and again! I complained to my father and told my mother, that this was injustice done to me! This was akin to ‘Kalapani’ when punishment was metted out by British judges to Indian freedom-fighters in the form of forced incarceration to the Andamans, I protested. Perhaps, in my imagination I began to visualise myself as one of those brave-hearts, forced to  resign to my fate of spending the rest of my life in a life-less and unknown island, going through drudgery and a listless existence!

 

Not to say, that little avenues of ‘breathing space’ and break from the monotony weren’t there though! Sometimes, the urge to see some life and noise became unbearable. These were the times when I ran-up to the terrace of our, then single-storeyed house – located near the E-Block park - and take a look towards Market No. 2. The expanse of land between our house and the market - a centre of so much curiosity in the little world of mine - was free of any visual barriers. Those days, market No 2 was just in the process of graduating from shops of bamboo and thatch to those of wooden planks and other sterner material – pucca concrete walls being still a few years away!  Our brush with something exciting and different from our mundane life was always market no 2.

 

How can one forget the antics of a man, sozzled-up after a drinking bout, putting a lighted candle atop a little tortoise and urging the tortoise to cross the road near the market no 2, T-junction.  With the traffic all held-up on the road, nobody dared to intervene till the tortoise had its 15 minutes of fame crossing the road – so ferocious was the reputation this particular gentleman! Old-timers will surely remember him – may his soul rest in peace!

 

Talking of tortoise, I remember those occasions when we all abandoned our football game in the E-block ground and ran to the fish market, which was located where the Netaji Subhash Park is situated today. These were occasions when huge live tortoises were killed to end up as an exotic dish in people’s homes around. The gross scene did leave a lasting impression on our young minds. By then, my gloom of loneliness had turned into a period of perpetual happiness with friends all around! A bit too many, my mother used to complain. Within a span of a few months of coming to C R Park, I was part of a group of 14-15 boys and all 11 – 13 year olds! The backdrop of our connection to each other was the E-Block ground. It was the call of the afternoon/evening, which made us drop whatever we were doing at home and don our football gear to reach our playfield – the E Block ground , which today is a half-ornamental park and a half-puja ground. Then it used to be a single field full of thorns and wild bushes on the fringes. The evenings reverberated with our shrieks and shouts. All 15 of us divided into 2 teams, kicking away the football to glory. And weren’t the mashimas and meshomoshais (uncles and aunties) staying in the houses surrounding the playground mad at us! During summers their window glass-panes got shattered by wildly kicked footballs and during winters the glass-panes got shattered once again by wildly hit cricket balls made of hardened cork!

 

Nonetheless, these were the same mashimas, meshos and kaku, kakimas (uncle and aunties) who came out in full support, when under the brand of a newly formed club – Netaji Sporting – all of us got together to organise the maiden Saraswati Puja at the E-Block ground, way back in 1977. The seeds of event organisation and management were sown into our young minds at a time when today’s kids would be busy playing computer games, watching television and ofcourse, planning and preparing to build a solid future for themselves! The Saraswati Puja brought out all types of skills and talents in us – thinking of some, I shudder even today! I particularly remember the efforts, which we made to gather flowers for the puja mandap! The day prior to the puja, a team was formed and a leader appointed. This team, wearing monkey caps/balaclavas and armed with garden knives and carrying a huge bag, set-out around 12 midnight, to pluck flowers from the gardens of houses in C R Park. This expedition lasted for a couple of hours with the triumphant group returning with a bagful of fresh flowers. The group also returned with hilarious anecdotes of how they had dodged some house-owners who kept a vigil specially that night to save their much loved flowers from the hands of the Ma Saraswati worshippers! Our anger and ire on people not paying the saraswati puja donation or ‘chanda’ got vented in forms, which now seem so silly and impish. One of our more enterprising friends, unplugged the light bulbs from the houses of the ‘defaulters’ and these found their place on a lighted electric bulb garland around the neck of the goddess in the evening!   

 

I remember one day about a sudden commotion in the main road. Unlike the children of today, we had a complete freedom to jump into the midst of any roadside argument between strangers. This freedom was wrested by us from our parents - through arguments - in spite of their opposition. So there I was on the main road within few seconds of hearing the noise. One of our dada (elder brother) was excitedly delivering the news that some dacoits riding horses had come to a small temple in the jungles - where the Chandralok cinema hall stands today – to offer some puja! The Sholay days were at their peak and thinking of a Gabbar Singh present so near to us, did give us goose pimples. And so dense were the jungles beyond G Block that this story seemed to be perfectly believable! Would anyone believe me if I say, that again from our ground floor terrace, I could see the Tughlakabad Fort clearly! Of course, how would one ever forget the dairies or ‘khatals’ just bordering F-Block and Govindpuri! The daily intrusion by herds of cows and buffaloes into E & F blocks and the resultant feuds – something, which should definitely get written in the history of our neighbourhood.

 

Last but not the least, I do miss - what has now disappeared from the current genre of youngsters of C R Park - the feeling of extreme pride of belonging for this colony. Those days, the lines dividing C R Park and the surrounding areas were very strong and clear. However, our uniqueness was the fact that we always presented a united picture to our peer groups all around. I remember a particular evening when some boys from an adjacent area came to market no 2 and created a ruckus! Lo and behold, in a few moments they got surrounded by groups of people of different ages and needless to say – these ‘outsiders’ received a royal treatment – which, I guess they will never forget in their entire life. 

 

Today, when I look around, I miss that homely environment that prevailed in E & F blocks in our childhood. A time - it seemed, when no one was a stranger here. When asking for a glass of water from an unknown ‘jethu’, ‘jethima’,’ kaku’,’ kakima’ or ‘mashima’ after playing a hectic game of football in front of their house, fetched you not only water but also some sweet or ‘mishti’. I guess, we all have to accept change – which they say is the only constant in life – and settle for a smaller world in this era of globalisation – but with widening distances separating next door/floor neighbours staying in the glitzy modern granite and chrome houses, which are now no more an exception but the rule in E & F Blocks of Chittaranjan Park.