Whitefield, suspended frozen still in time,
A relic of the past, verdant lush green,
Nigh far away from urban glare and grime;
Nestled in hist’ry was Waverly Inn.
But not ere long it lived in old-world charm,
Alluring what with rare mystique beauty,
Protestant mores— protected well from harm—
From a bustling big brother city;
Its neo Gothic church— century old,
Trellis wooden cottages blending well
Rich history under its ample fold,
Rosewoods, English crockery, dunk old smell!
A rotund man’s romantic interlude1
Lies hidden from archives in dusty hood.
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In Whitefield, near Bangalore, a settlement more than a century old
has been nestled in history and Nature. Predominantly Eurasians and
Anglo-Indians lived there. It boasted of Whitefield Club famous for
its ball-room dances. Many fell in and out of love there, a fall out of
the dances.
Today the old charm is fast vanishing what with multi-storied malls,
huge halls, and the hustle and bustle of the Sai Baba ashram; and the
place has turned cosmopolitan. Yet, many still cling to the old memories
and the make-believe world.
Survived still has this Waverly Inn at the Whitefield that witnessed a
conquest1 not recorded by history. Winston Churchill used to frequent
this Inn to court one miss Hamilton, daughter of the innkeeper James
Hamilton. A fact few might believe. But ‘unknown to most he was an
incorrigible romantic’, says Michael Shelden in his recent book ‘Young
Titan: The Making of Winston Churchill’. The new generation is still
being regaled here with the claims that the place has been the relic of
their romance— a rock with the initials WSC engraved in a heart, Cupid’s
arrow passing through it.
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- Relics from far | 01.08.12 |
Aniruddha Pathak
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-waverly-inn/
