A view from the bridge

My beloved Surtis,
I reach out to you today in hope to bridge the gap between us and bond with you just as I did with your father, grandfather, great grandfather and his forefathers.
I was built at a time when our beautiful city had lost its importance as a port but it carried on business as usual with its au natural chutzpah and am glad to see that today, it is one of the fastest growing cities in the world.

We bridges normally tend to go unnoticed, but I am grateful to have had my share of limelight in my heydays. I have been lucky enough to be Tapi town’s first strong handshake that holds together the two shores of Tapi that never meet. The importance of my being is prevalent in the fact that we now have so many more bridges linking either banks of the Tapti, even as the river runs through them. Connecting cultures and communities of Surat and Rander, I have illuminating memories of a glorious past

I am thrilled to see fancy four wheel drives zoom on my fellow bridges. During earlier times, I had regal horse carts trotting over. They were called Victorias, Aeko and Seagram depending on the way they were styled and the handsome horses that drew them. A few had vintage box like carriages, made of teakwood with brass fittings. Just like you people go jogging in your fancy sports gear over the new bridges, many Surtis came to take a leisurely morning or evening walk in simple footwear via me, since I was then, the longest straight stretch in town. I have seen the Delhi sultanate flag and the British flag come down at the fort, even as our Tiranga was raised and unfurled proudly.

The chowpatty garden was not developed then, hence I was a hotspot for the denizens. I was visited by pretty girls with sharp eyed moms, children with parents who came to watch visarjan of Dashama and Ganesha idols that were performed from various Ovaras. There used to be a mere 15 to 20 idols at the most. And often, a holy being came resting against one of my pillars for a while. It was through me that foodies trudged towards the ‘Ponk Nagari’ at Rander to relish Sugarcane juice, Ponk and buttermilk.

I have had the privilege to have been mentioned in many books and the Bombay Gazetteers. Behramji Malabari once wrote in his book Gujarat and Gujaratis that,”There is not much to be seen in Surat, except, of course the new Hope Bridge. It is a fine strong structure and is no doubt a great convenience to the people. It cost over seven lakhs .There are many larger bridges in India; but to the stick at home Surtis their bridge is a marvel of human ingenuity. I am not surprised that some of them worship it and offer sacrifices to the presiding genius.”

As you know, I have been named after the energetic collector of Surat, Sir Theodore Cracraft Hope. He was among the finest of the colonial gentry and in his service of 34 years in India; he spent eight years at Surat, enhancing the city’s civic amenities. He was a favourite among locals not only because he was a model of administrative efficiency but because he heard the petitions every evening himself and chatted freely with the Surtis to sort out their issues .Theodore also stressed on education and his ‘Hope Vachanmala’ a set of well known text books were prepared for use in basic schooling. In his book Literary Cultures in History, Sheldon Pollock has stated that Hope’s style of writing was found similar to that of our own great poet Narmad Shankar Dave’s in ‘Narmadgaya’. Scholars observed that,” Both their narratives were simple, native and mature and were equally loved by the educated and uneducated, unlike other pompous Sanskritized Gujarati.”

I was also featured in At the Core –a book on Surat’s built heritage by the SMC –UBC this year, but yet, strangely, they seem to be ready to dismantle me. I am old, rickety and have seen better years. But, I still stand tall as I always have, through the worst floods that have devastated the city. I am living history and I do not want to die before my time. I hope to share my stories with your children and grand children, just as I did with your forefathers. I hope that you will give me a chance to do so.

Surtis are known as great businessmen, so let me lay down the brass tacks- It will cost you nothing to raise your voice for me, but in return, you will gain an ancient treasure.

Hopefully yours,
Hope Pul.

HALL OF HOLLYWOOD FAME………
Cinema has always been a favourite fantasy for Surtis. Way back in the 1960’s, some would actually travel to Mumbai every weekend to watch the latest flick; a ‘propah’ theatre experience!

As times changed, Surtis watched versions of Bond series and Dino movies dubbed into Hindi at upgraded theatres. Present day, in the age of multiplexes, we now have the opportunity to watch an original English movie which is released through the country.

I have noticed that the first 4 days of the release runs houseful shows so we may be rest assured that this trend will survive, provided Hollywood lives up to the average Surti’s expectations.

This is not the first time our generation is experiencing Hollywood in town though. In the 1970’s, just on the other side of Hope Pul, there came up a theatre called Sheetal cinema. It was the only movie hall on the other side of the bridge. A fair ground beside it, held the Ponk festival, seasonally. Till date, our king green millet is roasted in this vicinity.

Sheetal was amongst the first few in its league that provided air conditioning, not to mention the only one that showed English cinema. Every fortnight, would be much awaited by Surtis to visit this dream box for a new movie. Blue Lagoon, Alien, Star Wars, 36 chambers of Shaolin were all experienced by Surtis within the city limits.

The trip to Sheetal cinema was an experience in itself. One would travel by the famous amphitheatre-Rangupvan, inaugurated by Jawaharlal Nehru, pass Gandhi Baugh that was the exotic Rani Baugh during the Mughal rule, to reach the Chowk, a place that simultaneously provides vision of Mughal [killa-fort], English [Navinchand library] and Persian [j.j. training school;] architecture; cross Hope pool, over the then perennial Tapti and there it was, facing Bapunagar slums.

At the foot of the short staircase that led to up to the hall’s entrance, would stand a blackboard. For the convenience of Surtis who studied vernacular language, the entire plot of the movie that was playing, would be hand written in Gujarati. This superb marketing strategy assured packed stalls even for serious movies like The Verdict. Locals would excitedly flock the same and loudly read out the story together. The movie would have a title in Ginglish as well. I remember 20,000 leagues under the sea being called ‘samundar ma adventure’!

The stairs led one to the first level for the stalls and to the second for balcony. All along the walls, aluminum framed glass show cases displayed the next change in form of posters .At first look we kids could gather whether we would be allowed to watch the same or not. Although Sheetal Cinema had no issues with U/A, our granddad certainly did. Unfortunately, inflation and video piracy devoured this hall of Hollywood.

The SMC is gearing up to relocate Bapunagar slums by the Tapti and make a river side promenade soon, to enhance the beauty of our city; as well as pull down the old Hope Pul. Sheetal cinema now resurrected, stands on prime property, will be facing one of the most modern structures in our city .Though it no more shows Hollywood movies, surviving with b-grade Hindi ones; it still is the only theatre that stands on the yonder side of the Sun God’s daughter in Surat that offers the common man a ticket to a dream world………after all that’s what cinema is all about, isn’t it?