NEW DELHI: Can sandwiches and conspiracy theories be sliced with the same knife? Former army men, retired bureaucrats, and the second and third generations of civil-servant families, seated around plates of roast mutton sandwiches, peanuts, and lemon sodas at the Delhi Gymkhana Club (DGC), are giving it a try.
The birds twittering on the jamun trees give cover to the whispers; at the huddles around the table, rescue operations are being planned.
On May 22, the Land and Development Office (LDO) under the Ministry of Urban Affairs issued an order to the club to vacate its 27-acre premises by June 5, citing its use for defence infrastructure and other public purposes in a high-security zone. PM Narendra Modi is supposed to shift to his new home at Raisina Hills from 7, Lok Kalyan Marg. His walls now adjoin the club’s.
“Yes, the club has a colonial history, but it also has a Partition history, an Independence history and a Maharaja history. Seven Maharajas put up the money for it. Squash champion Bhuvnesh Kumari, an Arjuna awardee who belongs to the former royal family of Alwar, practised at the DGC,” points out an old-timer unwilling to give his name. The club takes its sports seriously. Next to the Maharana Pratap mural at the entrance are several tournament trophies. Asian Games gold and silver medallists are among its members.
The old-timer also has an answer for the Lutyens’ jab doing the rounds: “And don’t the 700-odd MPs and ministers live in Lutyens bungalows too? Why get after a recreational place for pensioners?”
Some old-timers accost others in corridors to “save the club” with the intensity of saving rainforests. Activating old-boy networks in the LDO’s office is also a possibility.
That the late Arun Jaitley inaugurated the new swimming pool is a point of hope for the reversal of the order, as are the Shiva temple on the premises and a mazaar, which staff of both communities reveres, just outside it.
“I’m a pensioner. I don’t go to star hotels for tea. I come here,” says a former army man. His wife in a Kota sari and pearls is dressed for her DGC evening. For many in the Services, this is “their second home”.
Anxiety grows among staff members amid memories, meals at Delhi Gymkhana
After tea, they may take their guests back to the dining room for its famous Rogan Josh or sit with a glass of red or white at the Centenary Bar.
The bar here is like no other. It has an orderly Babu-vibe. People discuss the nation’s affairs, Bollywood, the borders, or the bridge game they have just had without being confrontational. Tones are dulcet or hushed due to the new winds blowing through the club. It is also a place for random confidences, or oversharing—unaided by liquor.
A defence official headlines his exploits, his Jana Sangh connections, and also some domestic matters at one go while sipping juice, uncaring that there is a stranger at the table.
An elderly couple rises to dance, perhaps their last dance to Spanish Harlem, the ‘60s classic, as Keith, the crooner behind the synthesiser, eases into its opening bars. One of the bartenders confirms that since the order, “the place is buzzing. So many elderly people are visiting the club. The old are bringing in the young; kebab and samosa orders don’t seem to stop”. A case of stress eating or last suppers? Who knows.
The average age at the bridge room on the way to the bar is 85. Sundeep, a businessman who gives only his first name and who inherited the membership from his father, an IPS officer, says he is “too overwhelmed to say anything” since the order.
The staff’s concerns, however, cut closer to the bone. “We are losing our home and job at the same time,” says one of the waiters. The club has over 500 staffers.
“The Racecourse Masjid camp and the Racecourse mandir camp—the club staff lives in both—are being demolished. The plan is to move us near the Rohtak border. Members here love the club but may sign up for other clubs. Which second home can we go to?,” the waiter added.