The Indian Railways Brats of the Sixties — Growing up in the Lap of Luxury
A Nostalgic Story about Bungalow Peons, Khansamas, Khalasis and Ayahs
“Ramu, I am ready for school,” called out my kid-sister to our bungalow peon. He had to take her on his bicycle to her kindergarten class.
What is a bungalow peon, you ask? In the old British Raj, these were Indian Railway (IR) employees assigned to the railway officers in remote postings for safety. Over the years they evolved and were assigned to all officers. In 2022, 75 years after Independence, IR finally abolished the Bungalow Peon system.
IR has its own nation-wide telephone system, and the Bungalow Peon was trained to answer the ’phone and bring it to wherever the officer was sitting at home. The phones were on a custom designed table with a long reel of wire, so that it could be taken to the verandah or the lawn.
History: When India became independent in 1947, there was a hodge-podge of railways across the country. There were 42 different railways systems in 1947, including 32 lines owned by the princely states, which were all nationalized to a become a single system in 1951, creating Indian Railways, one of the world’s largest networks.
Railways, in India, were started in mid-1850s and initially only British officers operated and managed the railways. In the 1930s and 40s, as part of the “Indianization” of all the Indian administrative services, Indians were allowed to compete and join the Railways as officers. They received the same pay and perks as the British officers.
As IR has a separate budget in the Indian Government, the pay was controlled centrally and stayed stagnant for decades. My Dad spent most of his career in the Railways and often joked, “The pay was low, but the perks were high!”
This story is about the children of these Indian Railways officers who grew up like the Army brats during the 1950s and 60s. Thanks to the perks, we grew up in what then would be considered the lap of luxury.
Railway Colony: IR had its own “railway colonies” in big and small cities. The first colony in Jamalpur (~1862) was the model for many other railway colonies.
There were large railway colonies in metropolitan cities like Delhi, Calcutta and Bombay as well as in smaller cities like Gorakhpur, Gauhati, and Gonda.
Bungalows: The officers were assigned large homes, called bungalows, sometimes on an acre or larger lots. Many were built during the mid-1900’s. They had tall ceilings and cool floors to deal with the hot summers. No electricity or running water — and no flushes! IR charged all its staff rent for the homes but the rent was fixed at 10% of the salary.
We grew up in these bungalows. There was an outside kitchen room connected to the main house with a walkway. This was the domain of the “khansama,” the cook. The outside kitchen kept the coal smoke and spice smells away from the house.
The khansamas that our Moms inherited were trained in British Indian foods: from Mulligatawny soups to brain cutlets and trifle puddings. They were speedily replaced by those who cooked typical Indian food.
Transfers: As the officers were transferred frequently, their social circle consisted of other railway families. This was different than most Indian families who traditionally grew up in the same house, same lane, same city/town/village surrounded by relatives.
For the railway officers, their colleagues were their friends and family, and the children were each other’s friends and family. All the adults were addressed as Uncle and Aunty.
There was always someone your Dad knew at another station, so in season, we would get food shipped from another station. We often got guavas from Allahabad, lychees from Muzaffarpur, petha (pumpkin candy) from Mathura, mangoes from Lucknow.
There were no cars or refrigerators. Fruits, vegetables and milk were procured on a daily basis. Till the 1960s there was limited intra-city public transportation. Everyone in a small town rode bicycles or took rickshaws.
Railway Clubs: The colonies had a railway club, often with a swimming pool, badminton, billiards and tennis courts. And of course, card tables. Bridge and Rummy were played every evening. Not for money but for points and boasting rights.
For kids, this was the place to make new friends and find old ones. We were there nearly every day whether swimming or playing a racket sport or just hanging out.
Inspection Trolleys & Carriages: As our Dad was in Operations, he had to travel frequently to different stations in his region to ensure that everything was functioning well. As a junior officer he often travelled by an inspection trolley and later was assigned an “inspection carriage” which was an apartment on wheels.
The old trolleys were pushed by trolley-men who took turns running on the tracks to drive the trolley! Later these became battery operated but for decades they still had the trolley-men — in case the battery failed!
As he grew in seniority, the size of the saloon also grew. There was always a “line box” ready with groceries to go with him. It only needed to be supplemented with fruits and vegetables at the last minute. Milk was procured locally. He was assigned a “Khalasi” who would cook and clean for him in the saloon and keep it tidy as he often had meetings inside the saloon.
By the time Dad retired as a General Manager, he qualified for a 60-foot air-conditioned saloon with multiple bedrooms and bathrooms! These are now available to be chartered by general public.
[I remember Dad calculating the speed of the train by counting the number of telephone poles that went by in one minute.]
Railway Wives: During those days, the officers were all men. No exceptions. [In 2023, the first female Chairman of the Railway Board, Jaya Sinha, was appointed.]
The wives created a Mahila Samity (Ladies’ Society) in every railway colony. They would organize charitable events, fetes, plays, flower shows and other social activities. The hierarchy at these Mahila Samitis were often a reflection of their husband’s position in the organization. Between the Railway Clubs and Mahila Samitis, the ladies had a busy life.
The Kids: So, who brought up the children? The Ayahs helped. They were live-in nannies who took care of us from the time we got up till we went to bed. Seven days a week! Many of us learnt our manners from them. [When the British went back to the UK, many of them took their Ayahs with them.]
The kids were sent to the local convent or missionary schools. These were “English Medium” schools and all education was in English. No local missionary school? No problem!
In 1870, British created a residential institution in the hills of Mussoorie called Oak Grove School for the children of officers in small towns. Lifelong friendships were made at OG and the relationships cut across grades and age.
Hospitals: Another good perk was having a Railway Hospital within each colony. We didn’t realize it then but these were very high-level hospitals staffed by excellent doctors and other medical practitioners.
The Doctors were our Dad’s colleagues, and as teenagers we felt comfortable visiting the Doctors by ourselves as many were our friends’ Dads, and we addressed them as “Uncles” not “Doctors.” We still remember the taste of the — now banned — mercurochrome throat swabs!
Free travel: One of the privileges of being a railway brat was to travel in First Class compartment during vacations. In those days, there were Third Class, Inter Class, Second Class and First Class compartments, so traveling in First Class was very special. During summer, we would get a large tub with a giant block of ice in it to keep the room cool.
The officers used to get a certain number (2 to 6) of passes which they could use to take their families for free. Anywhere across India! The officers themselves had a metal medallion which allowed them to travel whenever and wherever, across the entire Indian Railways.
Survivor Skills: The frequent transfers required frequent change of schools . By the time I finished my high school, I had studied in six different schools in four different cities, with education in three different languages.
This was not uncommon for the Railway Brats of our generation. New city, new schools, new friends — with a hope that you knew someone from an earlier posting! We learned to be survivors — a skill that would last a lifetime.
Many of the “survivors” of our generation felt comfortable enough to emigrate from India. A large number of us landed in the USA. The survivor skills have helped us succeed as teachers, engineers, doctors, businessmen, executives and even CEOs and Board Directors.
Two of our peers are the Menezes brothers: Victor retired as the Chair & CEO of Citibank and Sir Ivan was the CEO of Diageo until his death this year. We also have the Amritraj brothers — Anand, Vijay and Ashok — world-class tennis players, with Vijay starring in a number of movies, including James Bond’s Octopussy.
Today: It is not uncommon to meet a stranger of our age from India to discover that although you don’t recognize each other, you knew each other 50 or 60 years back, or had common friends. Maybe in a small town called Kanpur, Katihar, or Kota.
And we fondly recall and share the childhood stories of our favorite Bungalow Peons, Ayahs, Khalasis and Khansamas.
And, my kid sister? She currently serves on a number of Boards after retiring as the founding CEO of a prestigious non-profit.
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This was written at the request of a Railway Brat friend to capture our unique childhood. The photos used here are from personal collection or the internet.
S. K. Gupta is a former senior executive of a Fortune 50 corporation. He enjoys researching and writing about the not-so-obvious things in life. Feedback welcome. sk.gupta.us@gmail.com.
