The clock tower on the other side of the walls looms over the garden of the Schwerings at 21C Raja Santosh Road in Alipore. (Below) The grand marble staircase with the urns depicting a Bacchanalia. Pictures by Pabitra Das

The house with a worn-out clock tower at what used to be 21, Raja Santosh Road was till 1985 the home of the Roys, the zamindar family after which the road was named. Then the Roys moved out of it. They had bought the house from sahibs and the clock tower was constructed in 1912.

Then the house was partitioned. The Schwerings have lived in one section of it — now 21C — for the past four years, setting an example on how a gracious old house can be adapted to a modern lifestyle keeping all the heritage features intact. The Schwerings had lived in Chennai and Delhi for 10 years before coming to Calcutta.

Angelika Schwering in an elegant black dress and a rope of pearls trips into the living room on her bare feet. The ceiling is high. The walls are gleaming white. The décor is simple — black sofas and a sideboard. Originally it was one sprawling room. The Roys had put up a wall. The space beyond is used as a dining room, which leads to guest room. A small garden with a tiny bench is visible through the windows.

A high wall slices the property. The section on the other side from which rises the worn clock tower looks dull and sad. A marble fountain stands in the middle of the Schwering garden trimmed with hedges and trees.

Angelika, whose husband is a German diplomat, says: “The house was in a very good condition. We whitewashed it. We are privileged to live in a heritage house.” She asserts: “If you keep it up it is not difficult. It gives you so much back.”

House proud as Angelika is, she reveals the beauty of the house, part by part, keeping the most dramatic section for the last. The piece de resistance is the marble staircase with huge marble urns at the bottom and at the head. The urns depict a Bacchanalia in bas-relief. It faces a large carved teak door with a glass front, some panels tinted pink. A large marble lamp hangs from the ceiling.

The first floor is a huge open space surrounded by windows. Chandeliers hang from the false ceiling. “It’s a pity,” exclaims Anjelika, pointing upwards. Before her the house was occupied by the Russian consul general, who lived there for 10 years. He had closed part of the first floor. Anjelika cleared the obstruction. The walls are now lined with books. A huge mirror gleams in between.

The bric-a-brac and the furniture is a judicious mix of what she picked up from all over the country and what she brought from home, like the two maps of 1738 vintage.

Anjelika feels that the “vibrations here are totally different”. She wonders why such gracious old buildings are being razed to raise monstrosities.