Abandoned quarters of Khardah Jute Mill

After leaving behind the Dunlop crossing, once Barrackpore Trunk Road hits Kamarhati, the left side of the dusty road suddenly turns into a procession of mills and factories — most of them close to dereliction — beginning with the Agarpara Jute Mill, painted white not so many months ago. The most spectacular and visible of these industrial units is the crenellated boundary wall and entrance of Bengal Chemical, all of it painted brick red.

Rising high above the boundary walls, the old bungalows of these establishments are visible from the road. Jungles of parasitical plants have taken root in many of these buildings, which are close to a century old or more.

Some, like the bungalows of Loomtex Engineering in Titagarh, are ground plus two or even three structures with a large minaret perhaps with a spiral staircase within the cylindrical structure, not an uncommon architectural feature in the Barrackpore area. From afar, the luxuriant growth of parasitical plants looks like a shock of hair on these old buildings, still in use.

(From top) The swimming pool, a Christmas party and children of executives of Baranagar Jute Mill. Courtesy: Santanu Biswas

Empire Jute Mill is at Talpukur in Titagarh. Its white walls run along a considerable stretch of BT Road. It has two gates and behind the second gate is a dusty old bungalow with a porte cochere. Its general manager, Madhusudan Roy, a man in his 40s who has retired from defence services, says the mill which went on stream in 1913 is owned by the Sharada group. In front of his office is a wide road. The steel tracks for the wagons that were once used to transport bales of jute glint from under the pathway. Beyond that is a huge shed where the actual mill is situated.

Men beat piles of what is known as the golden fibre in a heavy cloud of dust that makes breathing difficult. Inside the looms rattle incessantly. Hedges have grown outside the factory, and a path behind it leads to an unkempt but green field with a tennis court. Standing on two sides of it are the three large buildings that serve as officers’ quarters. The grey and red look fresh enough but these are ancient buildings with features of classical architecture such as pilasters and pediments and rows of arches along the verandahs.

But it is also obvious that at some point of time the endless rooms were partitioned and the verandahs were covered to accommodate more people. Ten families live here now, and the women huddle outside their quarters while the children play in the grounds. This could be in any middle-class neighbourhood anywhere.

Yet even in the days immediately after Independence, the officers — junior ones included — lived in style in all these jute mills built over a century ago along the banks of the Hooghly, so that bales of the fibre could be easily transported in barges or steamers down the river from what is known as Bangladesh now, unloaded at jetties, loaded into wagons and sent straight to the mills. Finished products were carted out by the same route before the network of roadways was complete. Once the British left and the mills changed hands the decline set in. Supplies of raw material from Bangladesh stopped, gunny bags fell out of favour as synthetic material became the rage, and labour militancy finally rang the death knell of industry in this state.

It was only by chance that I discovered that an old friend’s father, Shantiranjan Biswas, was one of the first Indians to read jute technology at Dundee to hold senior positions in several mills in Howrah, Kakinada and Baranagar. He still had memories of the good life in the late 1950s up to the 1970s when jute mill managers were the monarch of all they surveyed — their sprawling empires circumscribed by the high walls of these mills.

He talked of the manager’s quarters in Kakinada which had a “golghar” (rotunda) besides the usual complement of three rooms that dwarfed those who lived in them. The bathrooms were fitted with enamel bathtubs and there was running hot and cold water. There was a retinue of servants — cooks, cleaners and sweepers — and they too had quarters for themselves. “The Europeans worked hard throughout the day but evenings were meant only for relaxation when everybody irrespective of rank mixed freely. Even after Indians took over these mills, Europeans continued to stay on till 1961-62. The club was highly active. Both hard and soft drinks were served to all executives. Besides indoor games, tennis and bowling matches were played regularly on the greens. Residents of other mills would come to ours for competitions,” said my friend.

“Christmas parties were big and a raffle was also held. The barrel would be cranked by hand and the first prize winner was given a dud. There was much fun and horseplay. Once it was announced that instead of the manager Miss Monroe would give away the prizes. Sure enough, a white man dressed as Marilyn Monroe turned up. Parents would buy gifts beforehand for children. These were distributed by Santa Claus. Santa would arrive ringing a bell on the trolley with a small steam engine meant for ferrying goods,” he added.

Recently, when the daughter-in-law of a former mill manager visited the mill, she was aghast to confront the paradise lost. “But cattle graze here!” she remarked.

soumitra.das@abp.in

(To be concluded)