Beldih Club at Jamshedpur

I first entered the Beldih Club at Jamshedpur in 1972. We sat in the heat of a June evening watching a movie. The door of the projecjtor room was open for ventilation and a beam from the projector lamp sharply illuminated an old Parsi couple who had opted to sit in the covered area next to the small room.

Once a while the night sky would light up as the glow from the Bessemer Convertor which about a mile away in the Works. The few white clouds would adopt a hue of pink for a while.

With the movie over my host and brother in law, Krishan Talwar took me to the Bar where he sat with his friends, Nakul and Santu.

The Beldih Bar and it's dining hall - then with no name- was a treat. No one in Jamshedpur till date has compared with the cocktail that Polak made and no one club could compete with the toast chicken that the Beldih served. We used to swear by it. Later on we sweared at it!

The Bar had two doors. One from an alley from the corridor and the other leading to the lawns. The then C shaped bar had a few bartenders that supported the members call, seated on their bar stools engaged in conversation from sports to work. A register, I recall, was once put up front on it to take a feedback if the Bar needed a TV. A genuine concern then for the dignity of the Bar. It is now the Blue Ginger Dining Hall.

The ladies changing room became the family dining hall. The Card room stayed where it was. Once a while Dr Irani would come out of the card room to go to the Men's room and we would all get up just enough to make the gesture of politeness. Our boss TG would also be playing but his way to the washroom would always be via our tables to ensure that we had enough on it. A true blue.

The Dining hall was behind the Bar. It had about eight tables or so and for years the preferred choice for us was roast chicken, chicken paprika or fried fish. Maybe it offered Indian food. A quick business and very affordable lunch for young officers was a boon. It went off the menu in the early eighties.

What was offered though later, when I joined the steel company in 1988 was dose stuffed with chicken!! A novel idea that never met my approval but it was popular and Mrs Pithawala insisted on its inclusion in the menu.

The Club had its annual events too. The Car Treasure Hunt - there were inane clues and objects to collect. I remember once running into Sakchi Market to buy one of the listed objects -a pink bra. The sight of a man running across the market holding the inner and speeding off in a car must have been the topic of the evening for some shoppers.

The Eggnog Party. We were not missed at work as everyone was there dressed as we do now for the races in Calcutta. At one of these, I was asked by Mr Mody to get Mr Mishra as he wanted to speak to him. In that crowd the only recourse to find him was to ask Pradip who stood at over seven feet to look for him. It took him seconds to trace Babloo.

It was at Beldih that Ameera at three or so picked up a tennis racket or jumped off the topmost diving board - since gone. It was the swimming pool that Sameet practiced in that later made him represent Mayo and the State. It was in Beldih in those pre sky television and pre Internet days we sat in the evenings and made friends for life. Shonali-ever helpful ever cheerful, Jimmy-the gentleman, Rina who had to be dropped early by Sriram, the ever courteous Vig and Gogi who were already planning for the next party. Tall and silent Deepak looking incredulously at someone who sat wearing the IAF chopper pilot dark blue overall with the name Rana on the right chest. This was not missed by Renuka with her perpetual impish smile sitting next to Sanjay who sat almost stoically. There is so much more that I can write and have so many anecdotes.

Sad today as I wrote to the Club surrendering my membership of thirty years but will visit it as a reciprocal member.

Thank you Beldih for the memories and friends you gave.