Manjit Bhullar's interiors for a politician turn it into a powerful party spot.
The business district of Connaught Place in the heart of New Delhi is an unlikely spot for anyone to want a hunting lodge, but this is exactly what Manjit Bhullar has designed. Or, to put things in perspective, he has recreated an apartment as a shikargah for the exclusive purpose of entertainment, for socialising and power broking. But: a hunting lodge? “It has proved very useful for neutralising enemies,” Bhullar reports soulfully.
A former artillery officer, Bhullar turned to design in all its accoutrements two decades ago, submersing himself in a vocabulary that included not just “value and quality” but also “a language of Indianness”. His journey had only one destination: refinement, elegance, graciousness, but also an underlying filigree of opulence that defines his mode, a body of work that includes hardwoods and leather and wrought iron and regal silks, of etched motifs, embroidered elements of zardozi in furnishings and mother-of-pearl inlay, of leather chesterfields with precious stones as buttons…a lifestyle of the rich who can afford to be careless about style because they are born to it and do not have to achieve it.
In this rarefied world of gentlemen, Bhullar can be seductive, using sonorous words replete with the history of Indian heritage; you can argue with him, or agree with him, but he will have the last word in any discussion — which is what businessman-and-politician Sudhanshu Mittal discovered when he asked him to design him an entertainment den in the middle of the city.
Mittal has enjoyed his share of unsavoury press, most prominently when he was identified as a close friend of the slain BJP leader Pramod Mahajan. Disparaging remarks about him crowd the cyber highway, but there is little doubt that Mittal’s entertainment abode was styled not so much for happy families come to play teen-patti as much as it was intended as a space to cut deals with the rich, the powerful and the famous. “Very important decisions have been taken here,” he says, relaxing in a club chair over a cup of lemon tea.
The space is what over-enthusiastic builders might now label a penthouse. In reality, it was two poky flats probably intended as office space in the business district. Bhullar’s task was cut out for him. He broke through the entire space, so with a 180-degree view of downtown Delhi giving way to Lutyen’s heritage zone with impressive panoramas of Rashtrapati Bhawan, Mittal’s guests could take in the impact of finance and political power. It is a potent mix.
More From This Section
Bhullar has designed the public space as three distinctive segments — the formal seating area, a bar-cum-card room-cum-library, and the dining enclave. Together, they form a free flowing space, with no walls or drapes cutting them off. But the flooring is different, as is the treatment of the walls and the ceilings, so each becomes a distinctive zone without being cut off. “I think this space is most representative of my work,” says Bhullar, which is probably true.
If the bar — appropriately silver stenciled The Lone Hunter — has a wooden floor (“the real McCoy” and not a synthetic parquet one, as is the current fashion, requiring the staff to regularly polish and buff), its ceiling alternates between teak and a light African wood in what might have been part of a Wodehousian world. Once, Mittal displayed firearms in the alcoves, but unsure of their antiquity or registration, they have since been taken off. Besides, somebody might just draw the wrong parallels between politics and guns.
Both the living area and the dining area are awash with natural light, and though there is a great deal of detailing in the appointments — Bhullar has a forgery in Faridabad and a factory in Neemrana where the furniture is crafted — it is not fussy. If anything, here is good taste, as evident in the last hiccup in the cusp between the princely states and the fading away of Empire.
Bhullar makes no apologies for his unabashed adoration for what was an enviable lifestyle and which he resurrects in his interiors — not for the nouveau riche “who might prefer Versace instead”, he grimaces — for those who combine a confident assurance without the need for deliberate flamboyance.
Whether you like Bhullar’s work or not, you can never denigrate it as kitschy: there is solidity not only of materials but also of approach and sensibility. Here, in Mittal’s den, the suspended plaster-of-paris ceiling recreates the canopy of a shamiana, that over the dining area is scooped out for a chandelier, while on the side, alabaster lights in bronze have been specially created.
A terracotta corridor separates the private section of the apartment, with just one bedroom with its large and luxurious en suite bathroom and gym, a kitchen which can cater for close to a hundred guests (and for whom the terrace is thrown open, complete with flaming mashaals and Jodhpuri tents (“so you can entertain like a thakur”, beams Bhullar), while at the opposite end there is a formal office with a leather floor.
Unusually, the takeaway from Mittal’s power centre is not — as you might expect — photographs of politicians and diplomats and leaders. If anything, there is a total absence of these, an indication that Mittal does not need to flaunt his proximity to politicians. What you do carry away is the aroma of leather, the fragrance of wood polish, the smell of cigars — and the aura of power.
Clearly, the hunting lodge is serving its purpose.
