The Los Angeles wildfire has gutted some invaluable specimens of Bengal’s art and cultural heritage.

The blaze that has burned 40,300 acres and destroyed more than 12,300 structures, according to the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, also claimed the multi-million dollar residence of oncologist Madan Gopal Mukhopadhyay.

Among the treasures in his collection were Rabindranath Tagore’s handwritten English translation of the song Sudhu Tomar Bani Noy Go, his handwritten letter and several books autographed by him.

Mukhopadhyay also had a first edition of the Asiatic Society journal signed by founding editor James Prinsep. His collection of autographed books included works of Jawaharlal Nehru, Lala Lajpat Rai and John F. Kennedy.

Also gone are the original paintings of M.F. Husain, Abanindranath Tagore, Jamini Roy, Bikash Bhattacharjee and the Company paintings in his collection. His ancient Indian coins, from the Indo-Aryan period down to the Gupta and Maurya eras and the Bengal sultanate, and his collection of picture postcards and Calcutta maps have also been destroyed.

Mukhopadhyay, a 1966 Medical College Kolkata graduate who migrated in 1967, has a street named after him in Bakersfield in California where he spent 35 years, becoming its first non-white county medical society president.

It is his house in Altadena, about half an hour from Los Angeles, where he shifted in 2013 from Bakersfield, that has been consumed by the Eaton fire, one of the three fires that are still active.

The two-storey house with a basement and garden is “all a mountain of ashes now”, Mukhopadhyay said, when The Telegraph called him at dawn on Wednesday.

“I do not think so much about the house and the cars as of my collection. How can any insurance company replace that?” the 81-year-old said in a trembling voice.

The street is some distance from the Eaton Canyon where the fire is believed to have started. Residents had no clue about the impending disaster.

“Around 3.30pm, there was a power cut. The sun was setting and light had started falling. My wife Dolly cooked dinner and we had our meal using a flashlight. Without TV, radio or Wi-Fi, our only access to news was text messages from the county and friends. When evacuation alerts started coming, the wind was blowing at almost 70-80 miles an hour but no fire was visible. We thought we needed to be away for some time before it would be safe to return,” Mukhopadhyay said.

He packed whatever of value the flashlight beam caught — some cash, passports, land deeds, car documents, costly watches....

“I also chanced upon a cloth bag with some of my gold coins. With barely half an hour in hand, I could hardly think straight or see much in the dark,” Mukhopadhyay said.

As they groped their way downstairs, the wind raged outside and pushing the door open against it required effort. It was then that they noticed a reddish glow in the sky.

He is thankful for two lucky breaks. The remote-controlled main gate does not open without power. Though they could have walked out by a side gate, it was not wide enough for a car. “How far could we have walked? Thank God I had invested in battery back-up for the gate and the smallest of our three cars, a Lexus, was parked outside the garage. Else we would have been roasted alive.”

They took shelter in a parking lot. But after a while, scared of being mugged there, they set off north uphill. The fire was raging in the distant mountains. “It was a mind-numbing sight. The palm trees were being swept to the ground by the wind. We turned back and passed through our lane which was still unaffected but for the darkness.”

They headed to their son’s house eight miles away. “The fire could be seen in the distance from their house but the wind direction was towards our area and their side was spared.” His son searched online for a hotel for the night.

“It was tough as at least 1.5 lakh people had been rendered homeless and were all looking for shelter,” the doctor said.

Finally, rooms could be booked out of town.

The next morning, his daughter flew in from San Francisco and they drove back to their neighbourhood.

“It was like driving through a war zone. Nothing had been spared. All our houses are built on wooden frames, with shingle roofs, and could hardly withstand a blaze. Propane tanks, needed for heaters in every home, were bursting like bombs on both sides,” he said.

“Smoke was still spewing out of some houses. Of the 40 houses in our lane, only two or three were spared. In our house, the only thing that stood erect was the chimney. The roof had collapsed. Amid the mountain of ashes, we could spot the iron racks which housed my collection of art books in the basement. Nothing seemed to remain of the two Mercedes cars in the garage.”

Mukhopadhyay admitted it was a risky ride in the smoky and acrid air. “My son took pictures which are essential as proof for insurance claim. Neighbours who could not get photographic evidence are stuck as the area is cordoned off now,” he said.

His garden had sections on rose, oak, fruits and cacti. “From what little could be seen from across the iron gate, they are destroyed. I hope the sculptures have survived.”

His sculpture collection is no less awe-inspiring than his books or paintings, dating back to the Pala and the Gandhara ages.

“Everyone is telling me that it is a loss not just for me but for the community, too. My son had catalogued my books. At least I will get the names of what I had,” he said.

A San Francisco institution had held a Bengal art exhibition with his collection, while a museum had hosted a show of the books in his Tagore collection — his first edition Geetanjali and books signed by Tagore.

He plans to approach them for the exhibition catalogues as souvenirs. Another consolation is the books he has written on his autographed texts and his British Raj postcards.

But his most immediate concern is a roof overhead. “We are staying in a hotel. Today we went out to buy clothes, toothbrush and soap. We are lucky to have found a room on rent where we will shift soon.”

His house had four bedrooms, two living rooms, a study and an office just on the first floor. “This will be like staying in the garage. But given the kind of losses we hear others have suffered, we must be happy even in just the clothes on our backs,” he sighed.