When my grandfather had built our house in Santiniketan sixty years ago it was probably not with a view to stay here all the year round. But it was to be used for occasional holidays of the nature befitting bhadraloks.
In the time between these holidays, my grandfather’s generation employed “caretakers”. However integral a part of their houses the caretakers were, most of them were relegated to poky little living quarters (do servants need to breathe?) next to the fence in rather large gardens. Our house was no exception.
My feudal Bengali blood having been a trifle diluted after years in Mumbai and managing with ‘top’ servants, I retired my caretaker soon after I arrived. Since I had no need for the two (one to live in and the other a loo) tiny structures in the corner of our garden, I decided to demolish them and make instead a single large room by combining the two. I could either use that as my workspace or turn it into a guest room.
We applied to our municipal authority (which happens to be the Visva Bharati University) as our house is built on land which is on lease from the university. While we had submitted a floor plan, they wanted to know (after many visits and queries on progress) what the elevation would be. I was impressed. Here was one authority taking its role seriously.
In the meanwhile they also wrote to us to inform us that our new structure together with the old should not exceed 15 per cent of our land area. While it was clear from the plan we had submitted that we were not exceeding 15 per cent, Visva Bharati authorities were obviously not being paid to undertake such complicated calculations!.
Although it did not affect my case, I was curious about this figure. Where did it come from? There is certainly no mention of it in our original lease deed. If there have been any subsequent alterations, we should keep track, I thought to myself. “There has been a circular to that effect” said the official in the estate department. “Could I have a copy please?” “That will not be possible,” he replied. “A circular laying down guidelines for me which I can not see?” I bemoaned his lack of exposure. Used to power games of unnecessary secrecy, he probably was in denial of the RTI!
When we submitted the proposed elevation plan, the estate officer said that the registrar of the university who apparently was the approving authority for all such permissions had asked for a feasibility study. This really had me. A feasibility study for renovating a caretaker’s room? Obviously these guys knew a thing or two and certainly I (despite all the project feasibility reports that I had seen in my years of working for the financial sector) had much to learn.
A few more weeks passed but finally one day some officials from the estate department came knocking. As I showed them where I planned to shift the structure, they walked around the area. Since the area currently has a banana tree growing they looked comical doing a pradakshin.
And then one gentleman asked me what I planned to do with the room that I would build. “Is that part of the feasibility study?”, I asked, very anxious to know what exactly this feasibility quest was about. “No, I am asking because you know you are not allowed any commercial activity on Visva Bharati land?” I said I was aware and surely if I was found guilty of transgressing such rules, I could be taken to task. But currently we were discussing the feasibility of building the structure. The official quickly altered his officious voice and said I was correct.
Two more rounds of the banana tree and they were done. The feasibility study was complete. In time we got our permission.
