The New Citizenship Law Has Ignited a Battle for India's Soul

The New Citizenship Law Has Ignited a Battle for India's Soul

By Jawhar Sircar

(The Wire, 30^th December, 2019)

The sudden, unplanned outburst in many parts of India on the issue of citizenship is, no doubt, the first major agitation against Narendra Modi. For 5.5 years, the world’s largest democracy silently watched authoritarianism and communalism tighten their stranglehold, but now it appears to have found its voice back.

People who were distressed at the serial collapse of every public institution and bulwark of liberty and fair play, and had despaired at the death-wish of the Congress, the decimation of the Left and the listlessness of unimpressive opposition parties, have suddenly woken up, thanks to this spontaneous fury. Many media houses that were tirelessly manufacturing consent for the regime were compelled to take note.

Analysts feel that the recent agitation is not sufficiently broad-based, as it is led by students and the youth; that it is confined only to some urban centres and to the middle class, and is largely fired by one community. These accusations could have been true on December 15, when the movement started in Jamia Millia Islamia and Aligarh Muslim University, but the disproportionate brutality of the police action united thousands of non-Muslims all over India and broadened the base of the agitation.

We may also recall that the two mass uprisings that shook India in 1974-75, the Nav Nirman movement in Gujarat and Jayaprakash Narayan’s Sampoorna Kranti in Bihar, were also localised and led by the young, before really old men like Morarji Desai and JP took over. Frankly, it required the party-less, leaderless youth to muster both courage and recklessness to halt the invincible Ashwamedha horse whose yagna was celebrated by Modi-Shah, as soon as their batteries were recharged in May 2019.

The first five months of Modi 2.0 witnessed more depredations on India’s democracy and secularism, especially on the latter, than ever before. This year’s two sessions of parliament made a mockery of democratic discourse, as the regime’s brute majority in the Lok Sabha and floor management in the Rajya Sabha ensured that the bombardment that started with the triple talaq Bill never stopped.

Amendments were hustled through parliament to curb civil liberties and further strengthen the National Investigation Agency, to empower detention without ascribing reasons under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act and to emasculate the Right to Information Act. Other hastily-hustled laws introduced dangerous clauses in medical education and central universities, and legitimised Big Brother’s Aadhaar card.

But palpable shock waves rocked the nation in early August, and went far beyond, when Article 370 of the constitution was read down with undisguised relish by the Central government. Given the sui generis nature of Kashmir’s accession to India and the special guarantees given then, this article conferred some token autonomy to Jammu and Kashmir, but this was amputated without anaesthesia. Unprecedented numbers of armed forces were flown to ensure that any dissent by Kashmiris was totally overawed, even as their state was slashed into ‘union territories’ and deliberately degraded.

Mainstream India was too stunned to respond and the endless series of vindictive tax raids on opponents and peremptory arrests by the Central Bureau of Investigation appeared to have sent shivers regarding the ruthless, malicious style of governance.

Even before the nation could recover from the massive crushing of civil liberties in Kashmir came another trauma on August 31, when the National Register of Citizens (NRC) for Assam was published. It took 50,000 government officials ten long years to prepare this register, and it cost the people of India some Rs 1,200 crore, even if we remain silent on the corruption and sheer harassment that accompanied this programme.

In the last few years, the Supreme Court had taken upon itself the task of regular monitoring this very difficult exercise to weed out infiltrators, but when 19 lakh people, most of them Hindu Bengalis, were excluded from the Register, everyone was upset. Those who had targeted ‘Bangladeshi Muslims’ were disappointed at the small number caught in the net, while those who were left out were shattered – especially as ‘detention centres’, inspired surely by Nazi concentration camps, were being built for them.

Flare-ups took place in Assam but before we reach the next phase of unrest, let us recall how the Supreme Court had fast-tracked hearings and submissions to resolve the vexatious issue of Ayodhya before a chief justice retired, which is rather odd. The same court had put on hold critical decisions on the constitutionality of the blitzkrieg in Kashmir and severe human rights issues. The court’s verdict of November 9, which effectively handed over the disputed plot to Hindus, was based on non-watertight evidence, but it may have ensured that majoritarian violence did not break out, as it had in 1992-93 and in 2002. Or, maybe the perpetrators of the mentioned riots had sheathed their swords as, after all, they got what they wanted – ‘Mandir wahin banayege (We will build the temple at that spot).’

Naturally, disconcerting whispers also arose and many criticised what they considered to be a capitulation before majoritarianism. A lot of angst would, however, surely have been taken care of if only the honourable court had issued a deadline, as it had done to ensure land for the temple and mosque, for the time-bound finalisation of criminal cases, that are dragging for a quarter century, and punish those who openly vandalised Babri Masjid. After all, the apex court had severely condemned it, and what better could we  expect if action had accompanied words?

But let us move on to the tipping point, which came finally in mid-December when the regime gloated about successfully passing the amendment to the Citizenship Act of 1955. Though it spoke sentimentally of wiping the tears of persecuted minorities who were seeking refuge in Mother India, the undisguised target was the legitimisation of discrimination against Muslims. Strategically, Hindu and other non-Muslim refugees from three Muslim countries were chosen for this favour and four other neighbours were left out.

It was, however, the promise-cum-threat issued repeatedly by home minister Amit Shah that the Assam-type gruelling NRC survey would be extended to other parts of India, that led to the sudden explosion of popular wrath. At this stage, we also need to understand that the causes for protests in Assam, Tamil Nadu, West Bengal and the rest of India are quite distinct from each other. The Assamese, who are paranoid about being outnumbered by Bengalis, are up in arms against the BJP and its CAA for trying to ‘regularise’ Hindu Bengali immigrants who were left out by the NRC. They feared that many more Bangladeshi Hindu refugees will be given citizenship and upset Assad’s precarious demographic balance.

On the other hand, Tamils are agitating mainly against the omission of Lankan Tamil refugees in this Christmas gift, though some are also against religious discrimination. The ruling party in Bengal, that has organised massive all-community protests, aims to further consolidate its base among the minority community. It also highlights the terror that NRC evokes – of bureaucratic harassment, corruption and heartlessness – to win over the majority.

The semiotics in the battle are interesting. The national flag has, for instance, been snatched back by the agitators from the ultra-nationalists, who had appropriated it quite brazenly. Historically, this Sangh parivar had virulently opposed the Indian tricolour at the time of our independence and had continued to insult it until Sardar Patel compelled them to accept the nation’s flag. Muslims, who were being repeatedly grilled and heckled for the last five years about their loyalty to India, are now proudly waving national flags as their response, as part of the citizenship agitation.

Students in Delhi and elsewhere are also innovating several Gandhian techniques like, say, offering flowers to policemen and trying to reach their hearts. National and patriotic songs are now the weapons of the weak as they stand up to the grossly inhuman viscousness let loose by the regime in Delhi, Uttar Pradesh, Karnataka and Assam, where their hegemony prevails.

But then, this reminds us of similar outbursts of patriotism that we had seen in the protests in Delhi after the Jyoti Singh gangrape and murder, in 2012-13. We can hardly forget how countless young men and women had responded to Anna Hazare’s call against corruption and had brought the capital city and other parts of India to a halt. They had given fresh life to forgotten Gandhi caps, but the lasting result of their agitation and sacrifice is that a crafty Arvind Kejriwal has been catapulted to power and a publicity-crazy Kiran Bedi sits in the overrated chair of a Lieutenant Governor.

But attacking a doddering liberal-secular government in India then is different from taking on the present breed of ruthless megalomaniacs, who stop at nothing. No one can predict how long the public anger will be sustained and how the Modi-Shah duo will retort, and with what ferocity and vindictiveness. One prays that communal conflicts do not break out in this charged atmosphere or are even manufactured to split the movement. Some say that a war-like attack in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir could also distract attention from civil protests, as belligerence always pumps patriotic adrenaline.

The protest that was lit by students of two central universities and may have been taken up first by Muslims, as they were/are the targets of Hindu extremists, has certainly metamorphosed into a general revolt. It is now a movement of the young, not only against unfair religious discrimination, but also against authoritarianism and against cutting of funding and interfering in education. Economic failures and increased joblessness are also stoking dissent, finally.

The fact is, however, that our liberal secular forces have remained content with signing righteous petitions, writing strong articles and holding debates on television or within safe surroundings. Liberals in neighbouring Bangladesh, on the other hand, had to combat brutal authoritarianism and religious fanaticism much and more directly. From 1989, they organised massive Mangal Shobha-jatra rallies as anti-Ershad protests by secular forces and continue to bring out these mammoth demonstrations every year on April 14, as evidence of their war on Islamic obscurantism.

In February 2013, several thousand intellectuals, teachers and street-shy middle class professionals gathered spontaneously at Shahbagh in Dhaka and demonstrated for days on end, compelling their government to hang Islamic fundamentalists, who were guilty of murder and rape. The Religious Right was taken aback by the scale of protest and the determination of secular democratic forces, that withstood physical attacks – thanks to the bold youth brigade that had joined the secular chorus.

Whatever be the results of the present CAA-NRC movement, the first gashes and scars that have been inflicted will not be easy to hide. Modi’s hypnotic charm, created through his glib, sweet-talking series of lies and fanned largely by well-paid corporate marketing and media professionals and amoral strategists, is finally broken. Those who were aghast to see India’s youth following him like the pied piper and heaping their votes in his favour are finally relieved.

The moot point we need to remember is that different sets of Indians had voted for different Modis – as India’s multi-purpose saviour or Kalki Avatar; as Mister Clean who would bring black money from Swiss banks; as the poor tea-server who symbolised humility; as the determined anti-dynast who lived a frugal existence; as the great patriot who would elevate India’s position to the highest level; as the warrior who would smash terrorism; as the economic Midas who would usher in revolutionary liberalisation; as Santa Claus who would distribute millions of jobs; as the heroic, aggressive leader of the Hindu ‘nation’ and as the dreaded nemesis of ‘pampered Muslims’ who would show them their place.

Every time this multi-rooted banyan around Modi is shaken by protest, as now, different self-contradictory elements get jolted out and disaggregate themselves from this contrived conglomerate of power – that money, cadres, oratory and chutzpah aggregated. As repression increases and brave-hearts face the brunt, different and differing heterogeneous groups are compelled to come together in their united struggle against authoritarianism and communalism. That is the lasting contribution of each such mass movement towards the strengthening our democratic tradition.

Ugly majoritarian fanatics who were conferred legitimacy by Modi and his ilk will, however, continue to bark and troll – even among the most educated or prosperous circles. At the end of the day, we must realise that even after seven decades, India is still a process, not a product. More important is the harsh fact that this India has space for only one idea to prevail, hopefully the plural one.

(Please Click Here to readthe article on The Wire’s Website)

Calcutta needs an art museum

                                 Calcutta needs an art museum

                                       Jawhar  Sircar

                                 (The Telegraph, 26 December 2019)

        It is quite surprising that the claimed cultural capital of India does not have one worthwhile art museum or an international-standard exhibition space for painting, photography and other forms of visual arts. While the Biswa Bangla complex does the city proud, it is not meant for art, like, say, the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA). This art museum is at its grandest in Delhi, but Mumbai and Bengaluru also have scaled-down NGMAs. Kolkata was obviously bypassed for the fourth NGMA, surprisingly without protest. When, however, the first-ever exhibition of Picasso’s art in India gave Kolkata a miss in 2001-02, as the city had no large gallery of globally acceptable specifications, it really hurt. Disappointed art lovers got together and set up a Trust, with government blessings — to ensure that a world class Kolkata Museum of Modern Art (K-MoMA) came up. But, despite several attempts over the last 17 years, the project has not succeeded.

          So, where does the large and vibrant community of artists go? Frankly, the only public spaces available are the politics-ridden and archaic Academy of Fine Arts, the rather-small and improperly lit Gaganendranath Pradarshanshala nearby, a Rabindra Tirtha in far-away New Town and an unknown Priyambada art gallery somewhere. We have many private art galleries like the Birla Academy, but there is a critical need for a grand public museum of art and affordable exhibition spaces. It just happens that a large and magnificent neo-classical architecture is ready — the historic ‘Belvedere House’ of Alipur. It stands where Mir Jafar built his mansion in 1760-62. Beginning with Warren Hastings, dozens of governors and viceroys have occupied the old or the reconstructed palace. It is best known, however, for the National Library that was housed here, from 1953. The snobbish ‘hall of entrance’ then became the mundane ‘card catalogue room’ and the teak-floored, gilded baroque ballroom metamorphosed into a ‘reading room’. After the library moved in 2005 to the mediocre Bhasa Bhavan next door, the ancient building fell into disrepair, till the culture ministry intervened n 2009-10 to restore it. But as soon as the decade-long restoration was complete, the presiding babus of the ministry decided, without any consultation, to fill up this priceless space with some unexciting antiquities of the Indian Museum. They also installed a lonesome ‘digital exhibition’ of ‘four greats’, meant primarily to equate Shayamaprasad Mookerjee with Tagore and Netaji. This re-utilisation is quite contrary to what the city’s own, more knowledgeable personalities from culture and academia had proposed in 2010-11. One idea was for a ‘Museum of the Word’ to demonstrate the spread of knowledge, and this can still be organised in the unused ground floor. In fact, Belvedere House is the best NGMA that Kolkata could dream of and it has almost ready exhibition galleries, plus adequate storage space. Besides, the enviable art collections lying with the city’s aristocratic families are simply crying out for restoration and display. The real bonus is easy parking.

        That brings us to the second restored historic building of the culture ministry in Kolkata — the Old Currency Building, set up in 1833. The obvious problems of parking and pedestrian entry dissuaded us from planning any major public re-use of this beautiful triple storied Italian style palazzo. Its large Venetian windows are really regal, as are the original and almost-intact exquisite floral cast-iron architecture. Located at the south-eastern corner of BBD Bagh, it once housed the Agra Bank and later the Reserve Bank’s Currency division. The ministry has announced, again rather unilaterally, that the NGMA of Kolkata would be located here — while more valuable space at the Belvedere is so grossly mis-utilised. Delhi’s policy makers must understand that it is extremely difficult for people to cut through the never-ending lines of menacing buses to reach the building’s entrance, and also that parking is impossible.

      There is yet a third masterpiece of neo classical architecture, the Metcalfe House, at the crossing of Hare Street and Strand Road. Completed in 1844, this stately building with impressive Corinthian columns has hosted almost every notable leader of the Bengal Renaissance. Thanks to an enthusiastic culture secretary, who worked here and knows Kolkata, its restoration work is commendable — but its re-use plan is quite a let-down. An expensive permanent gallery entitled Ami Kolkata was hurriedly set up on the first floor, with exhibits like a rickshaw and a country boat, that can hardly set hearts fluttering. The malaise lies in a unilateral top-down, ‘must wow’ thinking, arising out of a mistaken sense of proprietorship, that temporary custodians of national properties must abjure. After all, enthusiasm and public funds must also be accompanied by public consultation, to ensure effective utilisation.

        (Please Click Here toRead the article of Telegraph’s Website)

The City and Its Architecture

The City and Its Architecture

Jawhar Sircar

Take on India (art journal), Special issue on Bengal

Vol 4, no 3, 3 Dec, 2019

            It is only natural for Kolkata to have some of the finest specimens of colonial architecture. After all, it enjoyed the status of being, for one and half centuries, the capital of the British Empire in India and of the East India Company’s Dominions, prior to that. We may marvel at the Gothic architecture of the High Court and St Paul’s Cathedral as great examples of this class. Unlike Mumbai’s Fort area, however, Kolkata does not too many outstanding Gothic buildings. It has quite a few Neo Classical buildings like the Cossipore Club, the Sanskrit College on College Street, as also the Metcalfe Hall, the Commercial Library and the Town Hall — all three of which are in the central BBD Bagh area, known earlier as Dalhousie Square. Others in this area, like the Old Silver Mint and even the main block and entrance of Writers’ Buildings have typical Greek or Roman columns, capitals, architraves, friezes. and have a classic triangular pedimenta on top.

        All the major forms of Graeco-Roman classical columns are in abundance, not only in government or institutional buildings, but in many old aristocratic family homes of north Kolkata. For example, the General Post Office, the National Insurance Building and the Metcalfe House, all in the BBD Bagh zone have gorgeous Corinthian capitals to crown their impressive columns or shafts. The Indian Museum on Chowringhee (now known as Jawaharlal Nehru Sarani), the Sadharan Brahmo Samaj building on Bidhan Sarani and the Ghari Bari on Chitpur Road also have fine specimens of this column. So commonplace is this style that even an ordinary bathing ghat on Strand Road, like Moti Seal’s, has them, though it is doubtful if the bathers ever look up to appreciate the decorative foliage. Ionic columns are also plentiful, as on the Raj Bhavan, Calcutta University’s Darbhanga Building on College Street and the Lohia Hospital on Chitpur Road, while simpler Doric or Tuscan columns are the most common. There is an interesting combination that several old churches in Kolkata had adopted and that was to build a complete classical building that looked like a Greek temple, which were utterly pagan, and then construct a tall spire with a cross on top of it, to indicate that it was a Christian church. The best examples I can give are the St. John’s Church and St. Andrew’s Kirk, both in the BBD Bagh area, as well as St. Thomas’ Church attached to Loretto College and the Sacred Heart Church on Dharmatala (Lenin Sarani).

      Domes decorate the roof corners of impressive buildings with mixed European architecture like the Metropolitan Building of the LIC ( formerly Whiteway Laidlaw Stores) on Chowringhee and the Esplanade Mansions opposite the East Gate of Raj Bhavan are excellent examples. The latter, incidentally, has tell-tale signs of Art Nouveau architecture that was so popular at the end of the 19^th and early 20^th centuries. While the very Roman dome of the GPO dominates the landscape, the Mercantile Building and Gillander House close to it in BBD Bagh also have impressive domes. As Kolkata’s masonry buildings did not need or have sloping or gabled roofs, Georgian architecture was not in fashion, though large institutional or public buildings like Writers’ Buildings or the Accountant General’s office do have black, utilitarian tar-felted sloping mansards covering a part of their flat balustraded roofs.

     Other forms of European, or more specifically, British architecture, are also quite visible, especially in Central Kolkata and a little to the south that were part of the old ‘White Town’. Massive red exposed-brick architecture, laced with cream-coloured sandstone on cornices and decorative lines, were extremely popular. This is evident from Writers’ Buildings, Eastern Railway Building, the Foreign Post Office, Accountant General’s Office, Government of India Press, Royal Insurance building and the Postal Museum — all of which are located in the BBD Bagh and within walking distance of each other. Even beyond, we come across very impressive such buildings of exposed brick in the Chowringhee area, like the Chowringhee Mansions and Kanak Building (formerly the Army and Navy Stores). The YMCA building, not too far away, and the Government Art College, which is also quite close, also belong to this category. The exposed red brick style was adopted by numerous institutions and residences in north Kolkata as well. We see it in the Brahmo Balika and Deaf and Dumb schools near Maniktala. Even in the south-central Kolkata, we have Shambhunath Pandit Hospital in the same style.

     Towards the beginning of the 20^th century, we find that many commercial buildings in central Kolkata dispensed with grand neo classical and similar sprawling buildings and made maximum use of floor space by cutting down bays, arcades, cloisters or large verandas — even though the hot, humid climate of Kolkata demanded open spaces and cross ventilation. Instead, they came up with buildings that rose straight upwards, directly from the pavements, with long symmetrical facades. Their ground floors were almost invariably rusticated, i.e., had deep decorative grooves that ran horizontally. If they had Venetian windows with circular arches above them, then the grooves matched them. They flaunted classical columns on their corners or at intervals along the facade, either to bear loads or as pilaster decorations. Macleod House, Wallace House, Stephen House and Martin Burn House in BBD Bagh are good specimens of such architecture, as are several buildings on Central Avenue, from Dharmatala to Bow Bazar.

     Prosperous Indians of north Kolkata, however, copied a lot of European styles to lend grandeur to their mansions and to overawe visitors. Very often, so many styles and elements were combined that it makes categorisation difficult. Baroque plaster or stucco decorations were in great demand and stately classical columns would often be capped with  excessively carved floral and leafy designs on the pediments or facades. These foreign elements were combined with the very local need to have a clear separation between the road-facing main building (sadar mahal) and the female quarters (andar mahal), hidden from public view. It was, therefore, essential to have a quadrangular courtyard so that the two quarters could be separate, and yet be joined by narrower buildings on two sides of the quadrangle, with covered verandahs and rooms. Light and ventilation would then be ensured in all the rooms. Special attention needs to be paid to a few local adaptions, like the louvred wooden screens that covered the top half or more of the porch, bay or verandah. These massive wooden boards, with slanting but fixed Venetian blinds, were firmly joined to the neo classical columns, shafts or cast iron pillars. This was to  protect inmates against the scorching sun and gusty thunderstorms that would have flooded the verandahs and living rooms just beyond them. After all, the climate of Bengal is most unsuited to grandiose European architecture, as the doors or windows (if any) of the traditional huts, cottages or even double-storied mud houses were indeed very small, to protect residents against the elements. Thick mud walls and high thatched roofs helped control the outside temperatures, but most men, children and older ladies preferred to sleep in the open courtyard, at least where commoners were concerned.

      When the middle class of Kolkata started moving into masonry buildings, and electricity including fans had not reached the city, cross ventilation of the stuffy rooms was essential. Hence the louvres or wooden Venetian blinds were retained on the smaller windows, but could be opened or shut, to prevent heat or rain and allow some breeze in. These are famous in Bengal, as the kharkhori. This is a distinctive feature of houses in Kolkata and Bengal that were built till the 1960s, when the electric fan reached middle class homes. An element of Kolkata’s architecture, that was comparable to Sydney— the two great cities of the British Empire, incidentally, had regular ships plying between them — was the intricately designed cast-iron balustrades and gates. They are called ‘verandah railings’ locally, but verandahs were actually meant the balconies that jutted outwards from the walls or constructions. Railings meant the usually-wooden lining on which one leaned, running on top of the the cast iron balustrades, that were fixed erect from the extended masonry balconies. The foundries of Howrah produced these cast iron balustrades for balconies and guards on the margins of staircases, as they lent, beauty, dignity, strength and lasted very long. Wonderful geometric, floral and other artistic patterns were created by cast iron makers at the request of their patrons and leafy vines or even family crests or coat of arms were quite popular. I have used the past tense as towards the middle of the twentieth century, cheaper inferior and less artistic wrought iron balustrades replaced them in smaller houses. The old balustrades still exist on many an ancient building of Kolkata, largely rusted and uncared for, but they give an idea of olden times and lost glory.

       There is yet another architectural element that is seen in almost every aristocratic house of the 18^th and 19^th century Kolkata. It was most prominent in the house of the fabulously rich Raja Nabakrishna Deb, who made his fortune after conspiring with the British in the Battle of Plassey. His khilan thakur dalan or pillared porch arose from the rectangular courtyard in the sadar mahal the house. It was meant to house the family deity and also accommodate goddess Durga during her worship in autumn. Deb started the ritual of inviting British civil and military officials to impress them with his Durga Puja, but we can be sure that the white men came to this ‘heathen celebration’ not only to humour their factotum, but also to witness the Indian dancing girls, who were the star attraction. Wine and meat flowed in abundance, as worship became secondary in Deb’s show of pomp and power. All this was against Hindu rituals, but his wealth had secured Deb the position of being the undisputed leader of the upper caste Hindu tradition in Kolkata. These raised platforms, housing the deities, had thick load-bearing pillars in front, that were one-storey high, as the house above them usually went up to three storeys. Beautiful arches adorned and joined the upper part of these columns— serving as open doorways to view the deities. The number of such openings were usually three (teen khilan dalan) or five (panch khilan dalan). The plaster on the walls, the thick, short pillars and the arches was often ornamented and the multi-floriated arches were copied from the late medieval terracotta temples that had incorporated them from Islamic architecture. The raised sacred porch led down to the central courtyard through a  gentle flight of stairs. These wonderful thakur dalans are still well preserved in most old houses, as no one would like to upset the family deity.  Though there are no idols kept in the very Brahmo house of Rabindranath Tagore and his ancestors in Jorasanko, the porch and the paved quadrangle are very impressive. These are utilised by Rabindra Bharati University that is housed there, for its events and performances. Besides the houses of the Sovabajar Rajbari (Deb family’s), those of the Mitras of Darjipara, of Jagatram Dutta of Nimtala, of Dwarpanarayan Tagore in Pathuriaghaa, of the Roys of Jorasanko and the Jhamapukur Rajbati — all of which are in north Kolkata — flaunt excellent, typically-Bengali khilan thakur dalans.

          The last feature that we may observe needs to be introduced properly as it is still not included as a very unique style of architecture of south Kolkata. I refer to Art Deco that stormed the western world between the two world wars. From the 1930s, architect firms like Ballardie, Thomson & Mathews introduced Art Deco to Kolkata and by the 1940s, iconic structures came up — like the English movie theatres: Metro, Globe, New Empire, Roxy and Lighthouse. Several other local theatres of north Kolkata. The characteristic features of the style reflected admiration for the modernity of the machine and for the inherent design qualities of machine-made objects, e.g., relative simplicity, planarity, symmetry, and unvaried repetition of elements. The distinguishing marks of the style are simple, clean shapes, often with a “streamlined” look that conveyed geometric symmetry — which replaced the grand ostentatious older buildings. While the western world used Art Deco for public buildings and gave up the fashion after the Second World War, Kolkata’s residential buildings adopted it only in the 1950s and 1960s. This style was in vogue in the newly-built localities of south Kolkata. The upper middle class or new rich for used it for their bungalows in the Alipore area and for large four storied houses in New Alipore. The three storied Art Deco buildings (sometimes four storied) are in plenty on Lake Road-Southern Avenue. The rest of the salary earners had their own scaled down versions for their modest homes in the areas on both sides of  Rashbehari Avenue-Gariahat and in Ballygunge. These Art Deco buildings, that were called ‘Metro-style’ houses, had curved semicircular balconies or verandahs, with horizontal bands running on the sides as stepped cornice lines. At times, they had vertical lines of varying lengths down the middle, in perfect geometric shapes. Clean, sharp defined rectangular corners on one side could happily coexist with semi circular balconies and gently curved architecture on the other side. The central staircase usually had glass panes all the way up the top, running along the middle of the building, with a small flag stand on top. This style has not yet acquired celebrity heritage status, as few observe its sheer beauty and everyone is so fixated on the neo classical and other grander architecture of Kolkata. It is time we recognised smaller Art Deco residences as Kolkata’s unique contribution.