Ajay Rawal has sensitively and painstakingly restored a palatial mansion over seven years and converted it into a boutique hotel. Gustasp and Jeroo Irani document the journey and capture it for eternity
He was like a man possessed; inflamed with the passion of an Indian Michelangelo. The object of his over-riding desire was a palatial zamindari mansion in the hamlet of Bawali, 24 Pargannas, that he had stumbled upon; pushing past creepers, weeds and fecund vegetation that had claimed the ruins. Despite the sadly dilapidated state of the magnificent mansion, a one-and-a-half-hour drive from Kolkata, the original splendour and contours were faintly visible.
Ajay Rawal, the protagonist of this story and the current owner, reminisced about his journey as we sat in the glass-enclosed bar, the Verandah, at Rajbari Bawali, a boutique heritage hotel that he has sensitively and painstakingly restored over seven years. Rawal said, with his signature fugitive smile, that he has a bit of Indiana Jones in him. When he first stumbled on the Rajbari in 2009, it resembled the crumbling palace of a forgotten king. May be an Angkor Wat kind of place where the roots of banyan trees curved sinew-like
around the grounds and had destroyed walls and several wings of the palace. Yet the historic pile thrummed with magic and finally, after repeated visits, he succumbed to the irresistible, poignant romance of the place and the promptings of his inner voice to save this splendid 250-year-old building for posterity.
As we chatted, we gazed at the grand courtyard in front of us with steps leading up to the pillared Thakur Dalaan (Portico of the Gods in Bengali) flanked by two colonnaded wings of high-ceilinged rooms. It was hard to believe that this stately mansion was located in an obscure hamlet that was once part of the Sunderbans. Back in the day, its wild topography was covered with swampland and mangroves and dotted with a few isolated homes where Baul tribals lived. Tigers would stroll past to slake their thirst at watering holes and, even today, there is an aura of desperate fertility about this neighbourhood, carved out of the Sunderbans. Lush vegetation, orange groves, tall palms interlaced with tranquil water bodies and the occasional low-slung home where the elderly sit, watching the world go by.
As remarkable as its location is the story of the Rajbari’s restoration. Brushing away the warnings of naysayers who cautioned, “You
will never do it but if you do, you deserve a UNESCO award,” Rawal began the arduous task of tracing land records and locating the 18 owners scattered across the world. During much of the time, the Kolkata-based industrialist was gnawed by fear that the stately mansion would be felled by time and nature. And it took another five years to restore, brick by brick, the extravaganza that once belonged to landed aristocrats, the Mondal family.
When the Mondal family first settled in the obscure hamlet, they built a temple to Lord Krishna, their family deity. Over a period of time, more temples and palatial mansions came up in this rural heart of Bengal. The Rajbari Bawali meanwhile became the centre of wealth and privilege, and grand parties and banquets were hosted to entertain its many eminent guests. The Rajbari also became a hotspot of culture and romance, and even intrigue and battles, typical of those times. Post-Independence, the fortunes of the zamindari families dwindled and the forest clawed its way back, overtaking many a palatial mansion and the temples that clustered round them.
Once Rawal got possession, he began to consult architects and advisors from the US, UK, Italy and Mexico as well as Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage(INTACH), in order to master the nuances of restoration. He even sent a team of local craftsmen to train in the art of lime water construction at the Aga Khan Foundation by the craftsmen who had been involved in the restoration of the famed Humayun’s tomb in Delhi.
With his eye for detail, finely honed aesthetic sense and driven by unbridled passion, Rawal became the architect, restoration expert and designer — all rolled into a one-man army. He stretched both his imagination and finances to re-create a splendid slice of history from what was largely rubble, a gaping wound left behind by time. Roofs were restored, ponds carved out with the help of a willing Mother Nature, engaging pavillions were raised and new bricks made in the traditional style with moulds specially made in Murshidabad. Plumbing, lighting and air-conditioning systems were laid.
A beautiful old mosaic floor was salvaged when it emerged from the palace ruins while Burma teak was rescued from colonial homes and cast-iron pillars and railings were brought from north Kolkata edifices that were being torn down. Even Italian marble rescued from old homes that were being demolished found its place at the Rajbari as did old wooden shutters that once shielded the women in the zenana from prying eyes.
Today, the Rajbari has a patina of age but with all the mod cons that a modern-day traveller would expect in a luxury hostelry. Rawal even added a new wing connected with the restored one by a terracotta tiled pathway and lush tropical gardens. The new wing, too, exudes the same spirit as the vintage section with its low-slung buildings and pitched, tiled roofs. It encompasses in its faux old-world interiors a modern spa, swimming pool and a hip bar and restaurant where the front end of a Tata truck and a Rajdoot motorbike are part of the eclectic décor.
The interiors of the 30 rooms and the public areas are furnished with antiques that Rawal had collected over the years, thanks to his passion for old things. There are touches of the outré yet everything seems to have a pre-ordained place in the general scheme of things. The corridors are lined with the stands of Singer Sewing machines; a huge Louis Vuitton trunk, which perhaps sailed on gracious ocean liners of the past, stands in a corner outside a suite while the rooms are kitted out with grand handcrafted four-poster beds, old sitars, drums, carved treasure chests, sinuous old metal chandeliers, sepia-tinted photographs, large-winged armchairs, skylights, distressed chests of drawers. In the dining area, a polished grand piano occupies centre stage. It was sold to Rawal on the condition that the then owner could play it whenever she visited Kolkata. There are many objets d’art with fascinating back stories.
And the Rajbari adds to the fairy-tale ambience with bespoke experiences that offer a glimpse of the opulent zamindari lifestyle of one of the richest and most powerful families in Bengal. Guests get to savour splendid zamindari thali spreads and culinary demonstrations where you bite into living history. Come evening, take to the river on a vintage country boat with a sundowner and watch life unfold along the river banks as musicians strum your senses.
Early morning, embark on a walk in the village and watch it wake up to a new dawn. The sun drizzles its rays on crumbling temples and the remains of old palaces that speak of a discarded past against the backdrop of a vibrant present where locals sit on the verandahs of their homes and watch the world go by. Later, enjoy high tea by the pool and as dusk settles on the mansion, seeming to bring alive the ghosts of the past, a sandhya aarti (an evening prayer ritual) takes place on the diya-lit steps of the Thakur Dalaan. Accompanied by the blowing of conch shells and pounding of drums, and the swirling of a tray-full of diyas, this moving ritual is followed by a candle-lit dance performance.
Rawal’s path was rocky and littered with ups and downs and even personal tragedy.“When you embark on something like this, it owns you,” he mused. “When I was re-building Rajbari, I was re-building myself in a way.”
