By Peerzada Salman

HERE’S a little story: The rosy-fingered goddess Eos falls in love with Tithonus, a Trojan. She asks Zeus, the ruler of Mount Olympus, to grant immortality to the love of her life. Zeus obliges. It makes Tithonus exceedingly happy. But with the passage of time, he realizes that it’s eternal life that he’s been bestowed with, not youth. So Tithonus grows older and older, feebler and feebler, lying helplessly under a tree.

No different seems to be the fate of the Max Denso Hall & Library, the Mercantile Cooperative Bank Building, the Mandi Wala Building and the Jehangir Kothari Building on Bunder Road. They’re growing aged by the minute, and the thoroughfare flanked by these oldies is getting smoggier, dirtier and cloggier. Sadly, Eos can’t do anything about it, or so it seems.

Nowadays the Max Denso Hall serves as a section of the Water Board office. The Jehangir Kothari Building has shops that sell timing belts, poly belts and knitting belts (Greek to this scribe) on the ground floor, while some offices occupy the first storey. Despite its present condition (the courtyard morphing into a gigantic dump for all kinds of girdles) the grandeur of the structure that’s shaped like a square (or is it rectangular?) topped by a pretty impressive tower can’t go unnoticed.

The Mercantile Cooperative Bank Building has gathered clumps of dust; its façade is peppered with shattered windowpanes and a sullied out-wall; the stores on the ground level selling a variety of pipes give the structure an anomalous look. The Mandi Wala Building next to the Mercantile Cooperative Bank looks similar, except for the water coolers that stand on the balcony like immovable pets.

No one has control over the vagaries of time. Things change, sometimes for the worse. What’s saddening in the case of the four facades on Bunder Road is the indifference of the people occupying them. They take great care of the products they sell but don’t appear to be concerned about the structures that they use to make money from. It’s a glum reflection on our society. We look back only to seek spiritual solace, not for cultural reasons. The past, we think, is important for the heart, not for the mind.

A cursory look at these pieces of stonework gives you the idea that visiting them would be aesthetically pleasing. Wrong! If you try and step into these buildings, the creaky wooden staircases will scare the daylights out of you. Their cemented replacements with uneven steps are equally scary. The mustiness of the rooms (if you can call them rooms) not to mention the clammy walls and flooring is quite disconcerting too. So you try and step out as quickly as you can.

Denso Hall was constructed in 1886, designed by James Stratchan. Made in Gizri stone, it has projected balconies with carved balusters. Max Denso, in whose honour the structure was made, was a known figure in the latter half of the 19th century. In 1870 he held the chair of the Chamber of Commerce.

Architect Noman Ahmed says, “The Max Denso Hall is an example of Venetian Gothic architecture and has parapet walls as its decorative element. If immediate attention is not paid to it, its facade will fall apart. There should be structural consolidation to stop internal decay from taking place. I suggest they come up with an ‘adaptive use’ of the hall, a la Mohatta Palace, which will preserve it better.

“The Mandi Wala Building (or Hafiz Chamber) was built in 1876 in a hybrid Renaissance style. Its parapet is demolished from one side. Two things have caused it great harm: deep drilling for putting up hoardings and salt deposits. The Mercantile Cooperative Bank was constructed at around the same time, and its marked architectural feature is its axial entrance,” says Noman Ahmed.

As far as the Jehangir Kothari Building is concerned, the architect says, “You should be extra careful while on its terrace because the balustrades have come off, making it vulnerable to further decay. Then there is this problem of multiple ownership (of these beauties). Their owners don’t show any interest in restoring or renovating them. Besides, there is limited expertise to deal with (read: restore) such constructions.”

Suggestions can be given. Ideas can be floated. But at the end of the day it’s the people that live in or around these structures that need to acknowledge their worth. All good thoughts take shape in the mind (and heart) first and then see the light of day. Here, the idea is not to make things that are a part of our heritage youthful, but to make them immortal in a way that they work as signposts to the contents of our cultural progress.

mohammad.salman@dawn.com

Courtesy: Dawn.com