Pune: Tunnel of extravagance, a class divide, now on the heritage trail

At every one of the monthly heritage walks that the Savitribai Phule Pune University (SPPU) organizes on its vast campus, the famous tunnel is where it begins. For all participants, that tunnel is the flagship stop on the tour, never mind the impressive and grand main building it opens up to.

“I read a little about the tunnel in a book about old Pune. My parents told me that there’s a heritage walk that takes place every month. Thus I turned up with a few friends,” says Mohan, 19, an undergraduate student of history, armed with a camera and a notebook, on a sunny Thursday afternoon.


At the Potdar Sankul, which now houses the placement and human resources cells of SPPU, the university’s chief spokesman Abhijit Ghorpade briefed everyone on the significance of the tunnel, as well as the people who built it, including the thengovernor of the Bombay Presidency, Bartle Frere.

Also evident is the difference in the elevation of the Potdar Sankul and the main building, the latter being built on much higher foundations. The tunnel was built during the same period (1864-1871) as the main building, which housed the monsoon residence of the governor.


The tunnel — nearly 300mlong, is opened only for heritage walks, which connect Potdar Sankul to the main building. Admittedly, it is not deep underground, but the visitors can excuse that, because of the historical significance of tunnels as secret passageways to hide or escape, helped in no small measure by war or spy films.

The purpose of this tunnel was rather mundane, but also lays bare the race and class divide in colonial India — this was as much a tunnel of segregation as one of convenience.


“The Potdar Sankul used to be the kitchen complex of the governor’s house. Whenever the governor used to be at the residence and had guests at the dining hall, this tunnel was used to carry food from the kitchen to the main building, in a manner that would be quick, but also non-intrusive,” Ghorpade informed the participants.

The tunnel is accessed by a cutting beyond the SPPU’s NSS office. The cutting and the building were constructed much after the main building came into existence.

At its start, the tunnel shows some obvious signs of refurbishment — whitewashed walls and ceiling, the spotless length — and is lit by retro-style lamps, lined up on the rather low ceiling. For modern use, some heated pipes carry water and electricity lines.

For children and adults alike, who thronged the walk, this was almost a moment of discovery for them, having been granted enough time for pictures, selfies, and photo-ops in the congested, yet impressive space, which does not allow more than two to walk abreast at any point.

Uniquely, the tunnel surface is not flat, but somewhat curved like the ceiling itself. The tunnel opens up to the main building, connected by a newly-refurbished wooden staircase, on to a room, just down the corridor of the erstwhile main dining hall, which is now university senate meeting room. It is also welldrained, and even the slight curve about fifty metres into the tunnel is exquisitely engineered. All of the 1,75,000 pounds — a princely sum — that went into the main building and allied infrastructure is all too visible.

This extravagance, both of Frere and his successor, William-Vesey FitzGerald, was actually criticized by the British parliament and the press at the time, the latter completing the structure with expensive chandeliers in the dining room.

At a time of economic uncertainty in the United Kingdom, when the pound crashed, their “insubordination” in constructing this “palatial” residence was flayed by London, with ‘The Spectator’ daily referring to FitzGerald in particularly uncharitable terms in 1875, calling him “one of the worst persons to appoint”. FitzGerald would later be sent to punishment postings in faraway lands as a result, Ghorpade added.

The controversy aside, despite the mundane nature of the tunnel, it still has enough secrets that have not yet seen the light of day. Towards the main building-end of the tunnel are two storage rooms with thick and strong wooden doors and mammoth brass latches for locks. Some debris is all that can be seen inside, clearly gathered during the many years of refurbishment.

“I have no idea about those rooms. They are too dark and damp. We haven’t gone near,” laughed a guard, who was ushering visitors, near the staircase.