CHANDIGARH THE REVENANT
Cities are not built in a day, after all. And what is yours has to be someone else's — in the case of a government — for a price. Yet man's greatest aspirations can never be weighed against money. That's perhaps why modern cities seldom have a living soul; the cities tend to become marvels cut out of a sense of detached belonging, where cultures are perceived to have been welded together by the force of tumultuous events. India had lost Lahore, and Punjab its soul, post-Partition. We needed a city that could parallel Lahore; we needed a marvel. A love affair with the Ravi had ended with an inglorious chapter. Feel the intense longing of a Punjabi poet: sak maldhiya Ravi de patna nu, agg laun Lahorana challian ne (loosely, rubbing their teeth with a reddish shrub, the beauties of Lahore are Ravi-bound to set its water aflame).
We created a Unesco World Heritage site, the Capitol Complex, in about sixty years; we have consecrated Le Corbusier. In the city of about 114 square kilometres, we repeatedly claim to have reinvented a soul letting go of its rural reburial, as we fail to acknowledge the sacrifices of at least 28 villages that gave way to City Beautiful. This ingratitude is unparalleled.
Take the case of native Indians in the US. To honour the thousands of locals who were forced to relocate and cross the Mississippi river in the harsh winter, a state park, the 'Trail of Tears', was built to keep the memories alive.
Here are real stories over 60 years old that hint at tears, sweat, and in some cases, blood, that are intrinsic to Chandigarh:
The oldest survivor
In 1950, Ajmer Singh was 40 year old when the word spread that his Kalibar village along with several others would be bulldozed and their farmland taken over to raise a modern city, which was later christened as Chandigarh, the capital of Punjab. One-hundred-and-five-year-old Ajmer is blessed with great grand children. He lives in Raipur Kalan, a shabby hamlet on the outskirts of Chandigarh.
The days of "forced displacement" sketch an agony of a people forgotten. Ajmer Singh and hundreds of others had launched a "satyagarh" to protest their forced dislocation. They held demonstrations for months in front of the office of the Tehsildar assigned the task to acquire the land for the capital project. "Many times, the police lathicharged us and arrested us," says Ajmer Singh, as he describes those days as "bad times of outrageous cruelty."
"Our family owned 150 bighas at Kalibar village, where a major part of the Sector-8 is located. Our home was behind the gurdwara and the adjoining temple, the landmarks of that sector. When we were pushed out from the village to settle at Raipur Kalan, we were allotted 123 bighas; everyone received less land by way of compensation," recalls Ajmer Singh. His village boundary touched Kansal village where sit the Punjab and Haryana High Court, the Punjab and Haryana secretariats and the Assemblies of the two states.
Though Kansal village is now located in Punjab and is not a part of the UT, Chandigarh, it gave its 1,350 acres to the capital project.
Ludicrous compensation
In the early '50s, the government offered compensation as low as Rs 56 per acre in a few cases. The average compensation, though, ranged between Rs 2,000 and Rs 4,000 per acre. There were some exceptions, where the compensation was about Rs 10,000 per acre or above. It was in the 1960s and '70s when more land was acquired to further expand Chandigarh. People who were made to leave their villages and farmland were not given jobs as a displacement incentive. No seats were reserved for their wards in education institutions. Nor were the villagers given alternative land to live. Most of them live in miserable conditions at villages with unhygienic surroundings.
There is more trouble for those who were displaced from the heart of the city: the UT administration has again acquired their land to build industrial phase-3 adjoining Raipur Kalan village which they had made their home after dislocation from Kalibari and Rurka Parao Wali villages. The same happened with those who settled at Manuli village after dislocation from Sani Majra village in the UT. The Punjab Urban and Development Authority (PUDA) has acquired their land for Aero City, IT parks and much more. "Can a person be displaced twice in period of 60 years in the garb of modernization?" asks Gian Singh of Manauli village.
'Root shock'
The villagers who were removed from their ancestral land also lost a culture and, in some ways, their language. Sociologists have repeatedly warned of the 'root shock' that remains for decades. For instance, many people who survived Partition and had to leave their ancestral villages still get sentimental about their native places which they had to leave. The same holds true of the farmers and others displaced after Chandigarh was born. "We spoke Puadhi, a sub-dialect of Punjabi. At new places of our settlement, people talked in a different dialect," says Jarnail Singh, whose family belonged to Rurki Parao Wali. "At new place of our settlement, we were treated as 'baharle' (outsiders). Even today, we carry this tag," says Jasbir Singh, another farmer.
The most unfortunate part is that nobody talks about the heritage of villages which were removed from the map of the region. Ironically, the land which was acquired for peanuts is inhabited by only high income groups, and where owning land is unthinkable for the common man given the prohibitively high property prices.
The original
Sector-17 originally belongs to Rurki Parao Wali, an 800-acre agricultural land. This village was situated at a stone throw from Sector-17 ISBT on a piece of land adjacent the roundabout dividing sectors 17, 18, 21 and 22 near the Piccadily Hotel. There were 17 wells. Maize, cotton and groundnut were the main crops. The Bank Square in Sector-17 was raised on the land of Bant Singh and Mehma Singh.
Sharanjit Singh, grandson of late Sampuran Singh, who was a native of Rurki village before displacement, says: "The famous roundabout adjacent Sector 17 ISBT is situated in the land which was theirs till 1951." All three cinemas — Neelam, Kiran and KC — were built on the land which belonged to Rurki village. The place where Neelam cinema is located was a property of Basta Singh and others. There was also a brick-kiln nearby.
The Punjab Governor House was raised on the land of Bhangimajra, also known as Ram Nagar. There was an old well near the Governor House. "Along with others, our land was acquired for the Punjab Raj Bhavan," says Dr Sher Singh, who lives in Sohana. "Led by Comrade Shamsher Singh Josh and Bakhtaur Singh, we protested for months against the land acquisition. The police fired bullets on farmers hurting some of them," recalls Dr Sher Singh.
The renowned PGIMR is located on the land of Khuda Jassu and Shahzadpur villages. The Punjab Engineering College is located on the land which belonged to this village. A measly Rs 432 per acre was given as compensation to the farmers. The Sukhna Lake, another popular and most frequented landmark of Chandigarh, is located in the Kaimbwala village. Of the total 900 acres, over the years, about 500 acres of the village has been acquired.
For building the Panjab University, the land of Kanjimajra and Dhanas villages was acquired. Two wells, which were used for drinking water, became part of the university campus. The shooting range, Navodaya Vidyalaya and Indian Oil Depot are also located on the land that once belonged to this village. Sector-25, known as the venue for holding rallies, belonged to Saini Majra village, residents of which were displaced to settle at Manauli village adjacent to Aero-City in Mohali.