Once a grand edifice providing passage to visitors to and from the city, Prinsep Ghat metamorphosed in the twenty-first century into a much-loved destination in itself for citizens and tourists alike.
Designed as a public structure, a gateway to the city for those arriving and departing by river transport, the Ghat memorialised James Prinsep, numismatist and antiquary, best known for his role in deciphering the Brahmi script.
Loved by his fellow Anglo-Indians and the natives, the structure in his memory was fittingly erected by public subscription. Equally fitting, when the river had moved away and the pavilion ceased to function as an arrival and departure location, Prinsep Ghat was reinvented as a public monument open and accessible to all.
Green lawns, proximity to the grandiose Hooghly river, cool evening breezes, even the incongruity of Vidyasagar Setu cutting through the sky high above, the Prinsep Ghat destination has much to offer to citizens and tourists alike. But most of all, that which makes the place more special than any other, is the elegant Palladian edifice which holds pride of place.
On a level with the surrounding lawns it welcomes you, lures you to wander and meander through the twenty-four Corinthian columns perfectly proportioned and soaring up to the roof, the arched windows beckon you to look into and around, to take a seat and stop a while, and the story of the majestic structure commemorated by James Prinsep’s name emblazoned on the entablature invites curiosity and the wondering upward gaze of all those with an interest in history and heritage.
Children playing, lovers holding hands, school groups imbibing the history of the city and its relationship with the river, the army band providing entertainment to visitors, river and coast guard events, evening concerts, and even weary bereaved families immersing the ashes of their loved ones — Prinsep Ghat has embraced them all, given them a place and imbued them with a sense of beauty, calm and joy, all the time demanding little or nothing in return.
But then, all of a sudden there was a stop. One fine day Calcuttans woke up to a fence. The much-loved, and even abused, edifice had been cut off from us by a fence. Apparently we the people didn’t appreciate it enough, we abused it, we scribbled everywhere, we spoilt the pristine white surfaces. In their wisdom, and out of frustration, the guardians of the place then took a decision to step in.
They built a fence. It’s a pretty fence no doubt. It’s visually permeable and allows us to look in. We can still see the soaring columns. We can still view the entablature above with James Prinsep’s name writ large. And we can still cast our gaze through the arched openings. But all of this from a distance.
Prinsep Ghat is now a monument, behind a barricade, to be looked upon but not experienced. We may not wander among the columns any longer. Heritage enthusiasts may not enter within and experience another world, another time. The cool pavilion may no longer provide shelter from sun and rain. And the army band or other artistes may not enthrall their audiences any longer, basking in the grandeur of the stately edifice in the backdrop. We may not even scratch our names and other messages as and where we please.
Our actions have lost the city a unique asset. Do we the citizens of Calcutta wish to reclaim the monument for ourselves? Are we able to pledge to love and cherish the grand edifice? Can we desist from spoiling and defacing a thing of beauty?
The decision is ours and belongs to today, but the repercussions will be felt across time and across generations.
The writer is a conservation architect and researcher of Calcutta’s urban and construction history