Tollygunge Club: How a club in Calcutta is witness to history of India

Kolkata: So how exactly is Tollygunge Club, established 1895, connected to The Battle of Waterloo? I promise to reveal the answer but only after you consume a few arduous paragraphs. On the underrated yet truthful pretext of a pulsating connection to undeniable history.

In 1777, the Frenchman Loius Bonnard pioneered the cultivation of indigo in India. Following sharply on cue was an entrepreneurial Mr. Johnson, who in 1781 established a competing plantation on the very grounds of the Tollygunge Club House, constructing the inaugural edition of the same. He and his family subsequently perished due to Asiatic infections and the evidence resides sternly in the tombstones guarded by recently domesticated jackals.

Indigo as we do know was a important calling card of The East India Company, leading to much fame and fortune. Till its stature was busted by synthetic dyes and an exploitative genre of cultivating, likely to have influenced Belgian King Leopold's sadistic Congo exploits on rubber. In 1859, Nil Darpan, an account of the devilry, was written by Dinabandhu Mitra, translated to English by Michael Madhusudan Dutta and published by Reverend James Long. Incidentally the last in the list was punished by prevailing law and the fines that ensued were paid by Kaliprasanna Sinha, the social commentator ' Hutom Pacha'. On whose estate resides the one time reciprocal Bengal Club, established 1827. Small world, indeed.

But now let's move to 1799 and the much feted Battle of Seringapatam, the fourth and final season of the Anglo-Mysore wars. Where a certain Tipu Sultan, in the news for swords and more, was killed by the British forces. His family was exiled to Vellore but they again played up during the escapades of 1806 and thus summarily sent off to Tollygunge, the suburb of Calcutta. In the meanwhile, his hard earned territories were divided between the Company and Hyderabad state, the latter firm loyalists eventually earning the 21 Gun Salute.

Upon reaching the Eastern shores, the survivors of his clan desisted the rogue strains with much acclaim. Prince Ghulam Mohammed Anwar Shah built two mosques on the city, both throbbing, and somewhere in the timeline, took over the old Johnson estate, current day Tollygunge Club. Thus it became the home of Tipu's descendants and their contemporary editions, till date, earn a sincere living in the area. Not quite as glamorous as Wajid Ali Shah's exile to Metiabruz as Tipu himself did not make it alive and there was no retinue of bawarchis and tawaifs. But no less significant, in the pavilions of posterity.

Now the narrative must cut to 1894 or so and be quaintly entrenched on a quirky connection to Tipu. William Cruickshank, the boss of Bank of Bengal was on a suburban horse ride when his dog went missing. In the quest for retrieval, he stumbled upon the club house, then as impoverished as Tipu's descendants. Sensing an unmissable opportunity, he quickly swung a deal and established Tollygunge Club, the weekend haven for British business folks and civil servants, far removed from the officious hustle of the city. In the days preceding the metro railway, most certainly.

If you think that the Bank of Bengal is an obsolete colonial institution, you are way off the target. Over time, the merger with  the Bank of Bombay and the Bank of Madras lead to the Imperial Bank of India ( 1921) which earned permanence as the hooty toity State Bank of India. No minor character in the tidings of our beautiful nation, you may agree. Incidentally the customer profile of the original entity was rather eclectic and certain to baffle any predictable-pattern seeking CRM software - Dadabhai Naoraji, Rabindranath Tagore and Iswarchandra Vidyasagar just a few of the pass book holders. But the greatest irony is the Tipu Sultan and thus Tollygunge Club connection - this bank was originally formed as Bank of Calcutta to fund the Anglo-Mysore conflict, assuming its latter branding only in 1809.

Now that the merchants were happy playing golf, a few more nuggets of pioneering history was duly forthcoming and for this we must move to December, 1910. When Baron Caters and Jules Tyck assmbled their Henry Farman biplane in the Tollygunge Club golf course to offer eminent locals the first ever taste of joyful aviation. Apart from the usual colonial suspects, there was an Indian lady, Mrs. Sen, possibly the daughter in law of the Brahmo Samaj founder Keshub Chandra Sen. The photos do exist and have been published in Times of India, the event recorded in the Flight magazine of 1912. Calcutta roads were jam packed with enthusiasts and followers.

Incidentally this happened just 7 years after the Wright Brothers flew off in Kitty Hawk in North Carolina and that was not a long time in civilisation back in the day. Dum Dum airport was commissioned much later in 1924 and the KLM  transworld flight occurred subsequently. Now that we fly globally as if consuming bhel puri in Chowpatty Beach, the significance of this easy luxury is not so apparent to the current cohorts. Which is why the grounds of Tollygunge Club are not just witnesses but indeed advocates of contemporary history.

There are a few other crucial anecdotes that must be said, good or bad. While the Royal Calcutta Turf Club thrived, Tollygunge Club emerged as an alternate bastion of competitive horse racing, quite like Brabourne and Wankhede in cricketing Mumbai, till 1984. The labour troubles that plagued much of India on the 1970s led to an unfortunate victim, the club boss murdered by unidentified assailants. But then as corporate India thrived, the institutions on its watch were engrossed recipients and so was this deserving candidate. History has a habit of rewarding with the same prolificity as punishing and the evidence is out, over the 100 odd acres of awesome presence.

From the indigo cultivation era to the age of Indigo Airlines, this club in Calcutta has been a sincere collaborator to the annals of time. At times a willing coincidence, on other instances a curious accomplice, in suitable circumstances a diligent host - invariably every time filled with willing intent. Quite like history in the first place, a reluctant creator while being wholesome narrator of civilisation as we live it.

Oh yes, in case you have not figured the Battle of Walterloo connection. Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, went on to lead the English contingent in the eventual banishment of Napolean to St. Helena, rather significantly. If he had been terminated by Tipu Sultan's troops in Seringapatam, so much may have turned out so differently. Not just for the club but the world at large, as we love it.