Growing up in Saraya

Sanam on an old 'shikar' trophy



The Majithia family who originally hailed from Majitha village of Punjab, settled in Uttar Pradesh when they were gifted the land by the British for services rendered. Not only that, they were also bestowed with the honorary titles of "Sir" and "Lady."  All the acreage now known as Saraya or Sardarnagar was forfeited land originally owned by Babu Bandhu Singh,a freedom fighter in the days of the Raj, who was arrested and hanged in 1857.

Sir Sunder Singh Majithia had three sons, Kirpal, Surender and Surjit. It was Kirpal who had convinced Victor, my father, to settle in Saraya and begin anew after Amrita's tragic passing. When Kirpal died, Sir Surender Singh took on the onus of looking after the family interests  of sugar mill, distillery and vast farmlands, which were held under  trust. Surjit Singh went into politics and was India's deputy defence minister under Nehru as well as the first ambassador to Nepal.

Kirpal had two sons Gurnihal and Dalip. Gurnihal and his wife Rupi were also extremely close to father. She recalled an incident that took place when she was driving with him in the family Rolls Royce to attend a wedding in Amritsar. They had refuelled along the way when suddenly smoke began to billow out of the bonnet, and the car caught fire due to a short circuit in the engine. Father  pushed Rupi out of the car and then had to physically stop the excited villagers from trying to put out the flames, because the possibility of the petrol tank bursting posed a serious danger. As they helplessly watched the car burn, father patted his pockets and  remarked with great annoyance that he had left his cigarettes in the inferno and did not know where he could get more. Rupi was absolutely livid because all her jewellery, heavy saris and priceless fur coat had been incinerated in the blaze and there was this man bemoaning the loss of his precious smokes!

Gurnihal was bemusedly known for his affinity to anything 'blue'. When he died, Rupi asked father to dispose of his collection so it would not fall into the wrong hands. I had no idea the hoard was kept in a tin trunk in one of the spare rooms, and when I innocently and curiously opened it one day I had my first introduction to the big bad world of naughty stuff. 

Sir Surender Singh and his wife had no children and were affectionately called Big Uncle and Big Auntie by the family. Big Auntie lived in 'purdah' all her life and only a few outsiders had the privilege of face to face encounters - my father off course, being one of them. On the occasions when she glided up in her Humber for a visit, all the men folk had to discreetly scatter out of sight. Her visits caused much excitement as she always carried a  small, beautifully carved, filigree box filled with silver coated 'elaichi' and 'supari' which we were allowed to dig into as  special treat.

One year Easter and April Fool fell on the same day. My mother was completely taken aback to receive a beautifully wrapped gift from Big Auntie with a shiny, purple egg plant in it. She did not know what to make of this present and was too embarrassed to ask why she was at the receiving end of such generosity, when she finally received a giggly phone call which solved the mystery - it was an April Fool's joke.....Easter egg.....egg plant....


Sanam in the garden

Surjit had three sons, Sati, Guggi and Bunny. Sati in his youth was quite the lady's man, but when he married his wife Manju he gave up all his errant ways and turned to religion and the family business. Guggi was a simple minded soul who could not hurt a fly.His marriage was arranged to the strong and beautiful Gurpreet who looked out for him all his life. Bunny was just Bunny....wine, women,antiques and cars were what he lived for and we were all convinced he would wrap himself around a tree in one of his fancy vehicles once too often, and that would be the end of his story. He did not know anything about antiques but bought them anyway. When he invested in two valuable Ming vases, one of the older ladies in the family was heard to snidely remark  "The only thing Bunny knows about Ming is that it rhymes with his Thing!' He never read a book in his life, but would order them in different sizes to fit the shelves so they would look impressive. We were rudely refused when we asked to borrow any, since that would spoil the symmetry of the display! Bunny was married to the gorgeous Shelley who tragically committed suicide in 1987.

Then there was Franky, Kirpal's nephew who lived in Deokahi which was a couple of miles from Saraya. Franky enjoyed his alcohol and was quite the man about town, seducing many a village belle in the surrounding sugar cane fields. He married the tough and no nonsense Balraj who put an end to  his drinking and philandering and even bashed him up once in a while. We were teasing him about this one day when he sheepishly smiled and said " Once in a while I still get 'soozled' and then I beat her!" 'Soozled' quickly became another word that was added to the Egan Lexicon.

My father delivered Balraj and Franky's first born, and when we went to see the baby I was curious to know why the child had such a strangely elongated, misshapen head. I was told it was a forceps case and every thing would return to normal in a few days. Franky was doing a lot of sculpting in those days, in spite of repeated warnings from his mother-in-law that it was not an auspicious activity to do while his wife was pregnant. He naturally ignored these old wives tales, but nearly fainted in shock when he saw his son, as he was convinced his mother-in-law was right and maybe his chipping away at wooden blocks was the cause for the bizarre shaped head!  The baby with the alien looking pate is today a handsome and talented actor in Bollywood.

Saraya was a  strange oasis in the backwoods of Uttar Pradesh. Someone once asked me what the mystery was behind this private paradise - the women were all beautiful, the cars were the fanciest - a Ferrari, a Porsche, an Alfa Romeo, a Jaguar and a Rolls Royce, were some of the vehicles that made up the fleet, which even today are not so common on the roads of Indian metros.

Tweed

A Cessna and Twin Beech landed on a tiny little private runway. Our idea of fun while growing up was to go up for a joy ride in one of the planes and dive bomb unsuspecting, terrified villagers. One afternoon my friend Santosh and I had taken out father's noisy old Jeep and were racing up and down the airstrip just for fun. We were pleasantly surprised to see the people on the side of the road waving at us in an unusually friendly manner and happily reciprocated the bonhomie. The gesticulating got wilder and wilder until I realised poor Sati was circling overhead in his aircraft, wanting to land and the friendly signalling was just folks trying to get us off the landing field!

Saraya also had a private stretch of railway line that networked through surrounding villages."Tweed", an 1873 Sharp Stewart 0-4-0, which was once claimed to be the oldest commercially working steam locomotive in the world, plied these lines bringing in the sugar cane from surrounding fields during the  season. We would sometimes hop on and enjoy a sooty, noisy ride  for a couple of hours. "Tweed" was quite a celebrity and every winter we had gangs of "loco nuts" from all over the world coming to admire and photograph her.

Sanam and Begum the Afghan Hound

Rare and expensive breeds of dogs freely roamed the grounds of the estate and I grew up with Great Danes, Poodles, Rottweilers, Bassets, Afghan Hounds, Setters and the usual Labradors, Alsatians and Boxers. I was the only one who picked up 'roadies' much to the amusement and sometimes disdain of the rest. 

The family elephants would be saddled up for an amble once in a while and these cross country excursions were always thrilling outings. When the last of the elephants Nainkali died, it seemed like the end of a fabulous era to me.

Sanam at the swimming pool

The lush gardens that sprawled around the bungalows could have been taken out of a Good Housekeeping magazine. The palatial homes were decorated with trophies of past 'shikars,' and shared wall space with exquisite Persian carpets and  priceless Shergil paintings. Most of the houses had their own swimming pools, and even though they were surrounded by mesh fences, it was quite common to be splashing about with frogs of various sizes,  which the young men would gleefully catch and try and stuff down our costumes!

The photographs I have put up were all taken when Sanam was a little girl, but things were exactly the same when I was growing up. It was an idyllic childhood and I am glad my daughter could experience a few years in Saraya before the Majithia family fell apart due to inheritance disputes, my father died and my mother moved away to Deolali after living there  forty six years.

I have heard that the whole property is  in a state of neglect, with the once grand bungalows now  only home to termites and white ants, and the swimming pools almost impossible to find in the wild jungle that has crept in. I will never go back because I want to remember the place as the wonderful haven I spent half my life in. I would rather not spoil those indelible memories by seeing all the depressing changes that have taken place there in the last few years.