Tag Archives: india

Made in India and sold in Istanbul

Posted on by
Reply

KARAKÖY IS A DISTRICT of Istanbul close to the Golden Horn (Haliç). When walking along Tersane Cadesi, a busy avenue lined with shops selling technical goods for mechanical operations (from nails to power tools), we passed an old building topped with domes. Its walls are alternating layers of stones and brick work.

A plaque on the wall of this place reads “ISBU FATIH BEDESTENI AYASOFYA VAKFI KEBIRI OLARAK INSA EDEL MIŞTIR”, which means ‘This Fatih Bazaar was built as a part of the Hagia Sophia Foundation’. So, the building was constructed as a bazaar, and is still used as such. Like the rest of the street, only machine tools and spare parts are sold in the edifice.

Made in India

The above-mentioned foundation was founded soon after the Ottoman conquest of Istanbul. Its function, along with other foundations, was to restore and restructure Istanbul, which had deteriorated badly during the last years of Byzantine rule. I have not yet been able to find out when the bazaar was constructed.

On one of the external walls of the building, a selection of rubber car tyres was on display. An elderly man, who was running the stall, greeted us, and began trying to guess where we were from. My wife told him that she is Indian. Hearing that, the old fellow rushed back to his collection of tyres, and we started to walk away. A few seconds later, he rushed towards us. He was holding a tyre in his hand, and pointing to it, and he kept saying “India”. We stopped, and then he rotated the tyre until he found the words “Made in India” embossed on it, and showed then to us.

THY HAND, GREAT ANARCH BY NIRAD CHAUDHURI

Posted on by
1

HAVING BEEN BEFRIENDED by the author’s son Prithvi, and having seen some of his father’s belongings stored in the Calcutta Club (in Kolkata), I finally got around to reading a book that I bought almost 30 years ago. The 960-page volume by Prithvi’s father, Nirad C Chaudhuri (1897-1999), is called “Thy Hand, Great Anarch”, and was first published in1987. The title comes from a couplet in a poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744):

“Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall;

And universal Darkness buries All.”

This pessimism well summarises what Chaudhuri has written in his enormous tome.

The book is the second part of Chaudhuri’s autobiography. It covers the period from 1921 to 1952 – the years leading up to the end of British rule in India and the first few years after the country gained its independence. Chaudhuri was a keen observer of what was going on in India during this period. Without pulling any punches, he gives his often-critical opinions of what was going on in the country, and never fails to point out what he felt was being done wrong both by the British and also by the Indians fighting for the end of British rule. Although he wrote this book long after 1952, he quotes from things he wrote during the period he described. He did this, I believe, to prove to the reader that his frequently idiosyncratic opinions were not as a result of looking back with hindsight, but were what he thought at the time.

One of Nirad’s chief criticisms of the various different freedom fighters was that they all expressed their dislike of British rule but, according to him, none of them proposed plans for how India was to be ruled if or when independence was achieved. I have read several books about the history of India’s fight for freedom, and most of them portray leaders such as Gandhi, Nehru, Vallabhai Patel, and Subhash Chandra Bose as heroic figures. This was not how Nirad portrayed any of them. Having been the personal secretary of Bose’s brother Sarat Bose, Nirad was in a good position to observe many political events at close hand. As for Gandhi, he wrote (giving his reasons):

“To take the question of his contribution to Indian independence first. It is a blatant falsehood to say that he or his movements brought it about, whatever their moral effect.”

This was not an opinion I had come across before in histories of the struggle for India’s independence. It is his highly individual and original views that help to make his book so engaging. He writes very scornfully of Subhash Chandra Bose’s politics and his cooperation with the British Empire’s enemies during WW2. As for Jinnah – the ‘father’ of Pakistan – he showed less disdain, writing:

“I must set down at this point that Jinnah is the only man who came out with success and honour from the ignoble end of the British Empire in India.”

Unlike members of the Indian National Congress and their opponents – the British Government, Jinnah:

“… never made a secret of what he wanted, never prevaricated, never compromised, and yet succeeded in inflicting an unmitigated defeat on both the British Government and the Indian National Congress.”

Although I got the feeling that Chaudhuri admired the British and believed that Indians would fare better by being part of the British Empire than they would in an India ruled by Indians, his book is by no means short of criticism of the British as colonists, during the last years of empire, and after India became independent. Figures such as Attlee and Mountbatten get little or no praise from Nirad. At the beginning of a chapter called “Mount Batten Piled on Mount Attlee”, he wrote:

“As if Attlee single-handed was not enough to complete the work of demolition begun by the more cunning mediocrity. Baldwin, he piled on himself Lord Mountbatten to add greater work to his policy, which brought endless misfortunes to the Indian people.”

As the book’s title suggests, the text contains Nirad’s views on the anarchy he perceived developing as India approached independence, and then after having achieved it. It is not surprising, given what he wrote and thought about the country of his birth that Nirad chose to move to England (in about 1982) and lived there until he died. Many readers might be surprised or even horrified by what the author wrote, but he takes care to make whatever he thought sound reasonable to his readers. There are parts of the book which I found hard going – difficult to comprehend, but I ploughed on regardless, and was pleased that I did.

Tea makers and politicians in India

Posted on by
Reply

MY LATEST BOOK, “The Hitler Lock & Other Tales of India”, is mainly about my very varied and fascinating experiences of travelling in India and only a little bit about Adolf Hitler. Here is a brief excerpt from the book:

Some say that when he was a young boy at school, India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi helped in his family’s tea stall. Although he never became a chaiwallah, I have met one tea maker who became actively involved in politics. He was the owner of Chai Day Teahouse in Bangalore’s Johnson Market. I visited his establishment a couple of times in 2016, but when I looked for it four years later, it had disappeared.

Chai Day was more of a café than a tea stall. It had tables and chairs within its premises. What struck me immediately was that the walls of the seating area were covered with slogans, such as “Don’t promise when you are happy. Don’t reply when you are angry. Don’t decide when you are sad.”, and “We are not use less. We are used less”, and “Thanking you your faith for Syed Arif Bukhari.” The latter refers to the name of the owner, and the fact that he used to, and may still, put himself forward for election to positions, including MLA, in the Government of Karnataka. He told us that he is an independent and that his symbol is an electronic calculator. Just in case that is meaningless to you, I should explain that all political parties in India identify themselves with symbols as well as their names. For example, the Congress Party symbol is a raised right hand, and that of the BJP is a flowering lotus. This is done so that voters who have difficulty reading can find the party for which they want to vote. After chatting amiably with the charming Mr Bukhari, he said:

“If one chaiwallah can become a Prime Minister, maybe I can do the same.”

He might have been joking, but who can tell what the future will bring.

We are fond of drinking tiny cups of sweet, milky, often spiced, tea at the numerous tea stalls that can be found all over India.  During a visit to the Gujarati city of Baroda (Vadodara), we spoke to two tea makers one morning. One of them was a charming lady, who told us about the working life she led. She operates her stall from 630 am until 730 pm daily. She boils her tea with milk and spices on a gas ring, as do most other chaiwallahs. Each of her gas cylinders contain enough fuel (domestic LPG, which contains butane or propane or a mixture of them) to keep her stall going for 15 days.

The other chaiwallah we spoke with was Gopal. He has a tea stall near the entrance to one of the former pols (see below) of Vadodara. He works from 10 am to 6 pm. His stall was very busy when we visited it that morning. It faces a peepal tree with numerous Hindu offerings around the base of its trunk. One of the daily offerings to the gods is the first cup of tea that Gopal makes each morning. Like many other chaiwallahs we have visited in Gujarat, Gopal adds fresh herbs and spices to his tea. That morning, he had large sprigs of mint leaves and bunches of lemon grass and ginger. He pounds the latter in a pestle and mortar. He told us that pounding the ginger releases more flavour than grating it, which is what many other tea makers do. I asked Gopal whether I could take photographs of him and his stall. He allowed me to do so. As we were leaving him, he told his customers proudly (in Gujarati):

“Our Prime Minister must go to the UK and USA to have his picture taken. See, people from the UK have come all the way from London to Vadodara to photograph me.”

[Note: A pol is an ancient form of gated community, built for protection, found in the historic centres of Varodara and (more prevalently) in Ahmedabad].

You can buy a copy of the book either as a paperback or as a Kindle e-book from Amazon:

Five and a half hours ahead of Greenwich Mean Time (GMT): India

Posted on by
Reply

INDIA IS A very large country. At its greatest width, it spans almost 1800 miles from east (the Manipur/Bangladesh border) to the west (the western edge of Kutch where it borders Pakistan.). When it is 4 am (GMT) in London, 1500 miles away in Moscow (Russia) and 1800 miles away in Ankara (Turkey), it is 7 am.   Yet, when the sun rises at 4 am in the far east of India, people in Kutch (western Gujarat) will not see the sun rise until 5.30 am. In both places, the clock will show ‘4 am’. This difference arises because all of India (as well as Bangladesh and Sri Lanka) are in the same time zone (Indian Standard Time: ‘IST’). IST is five and a half hours ahead of Greenwich Mean Time (‘GMT’). Incidentally, while researching this piece, I noticed that clocks in Nepal are 5 ¾ hours ahead of GMT.

Some countries spanning many degrees of longitude such as India does, are divided into several time zones (e.g. the USA, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and Russia). However, all of India is in a single time zone, I wondered why and whose idea it was in the first place.

Prior to the colonisation of India by the British, various methods of standardising time were adopted in different eras and under varying ruling regimes. For example, in the 4th century BC, the prime meridian was chosen as a line passing through what is now the modern town of Ujjain (in Madhya Pradesh) and the unit of time was based on the ‘prana’ (about 4 seconds – the length of a normal breath).

In 1802, John Goldingham, the official astronomer of the British East India Company, established Madras Time, which was 5 hours, 21 minutes and 14 seconds ahead of GMT. In 1884, Calcutta Standard Time was established. This was 5 hours, 53 minutes and 20 seconds ahead of GMT. It remained in use until 1948 despite other changes in time zoning having already occurred in India. At the same time as Calcutta Standard Time was created, Bombay Standard Time also came into existence – it was 4 hours and 51 minutes ahead of GMT. Although it no longer exists, it is still used in Parsi fire temples in Bombay.

Madras Time was used by the railways in British India until the 1st of January 1906, when IST came into existence. It was then that the geographical reference point for time standardisation was moved from Madras to Shankargarh Fort in the district of Allahabad. The reference meridian chosen, 82 degrees and 30 seconds East, was deemed to be the midpoint of India, as it was under British rule. In 1947, when India became independent, IST was kept as the country’s official time. However, both Calcutta Time and Bombay Time remained in use until 1948 and 1955 respectively. The idea of splitting India into two time zones has been mooted, but has yet to happen.

Although IST is the official time in all parts of India, an interesting variation is still in use in the tea gardens in the far east of the country (www.timeanddate.com/time/zone/india). Called ‘Chai Bagan Time (Tea Garden Time), it is one hour ahead of IST (and 6 ½ hours ahead of GMT). It was introduced by British tea companies to increase the number of daylight hours available for working, and is still in use. Using this timing, the sun rises at 5 in the morning instead of at 4 (IST) and sets at about 6 in the evening instead of 5 (IST).

Bombay Time has all but disappeared from use. However, it has been replaced by what some call ‘Bombay timing’, which refers to the habit of people to arrive incredibly late for appointments – especially social engagements. Finally, in a book about Bangalore by Peter Colaco, there is mention of yet another measure of time. There is ‘fie-mint’, which does not mean ‘five minutes’, but does mean ‘not very soon’. For example, he wrote:

“A waiter in a restaurant, once told me our order would take ‘fie-mint’. Did he mean a ‘five minute ‘fie-mint’ or a 30-minute ‘fie-mint’, I asked. He considered the question seriously. ‘Twenty-mint fie-mint’, he clarified.”

An artist from Bengal and the freedom struggle of Mahatma Gandhi

Posted on by
Reply

BENGALI ARTIST NANDALAL Bose (1882-1966) was chosen as the artist to provide illustrations for the ceremonial manuscript of the Constitution of India. A few copies of these images are currently (January 2024) on display at Bangalore’s National Gallery of Modern Art (‘NGMA’).

Bose was part of an international group of artists who were endeavouring to revive classical Indian culture and art. Because of this, he came into contact with Japanese artists. Their painting techniques influenced the way Nandalal painted. This can be seen in many of his works on display at the NGMA in a temporary exhibition of a selection of his Haripura Panels, which is on until April 2024.

The ear cleaner at work

In 1938, the 51st session of the Indian National Congress was held in Haripura (now in Gujarat). Mahatma Gandhi asked Nandalal Bose to paint a series of panels depicting Indian village life in such a way that the images would be easily accessible to the common people (villagers etc.). Bose obliged, creating about 400 colourful paintings on handmade paper, using organic (rather than industrial) coloured paints. 77 of these are in the exhibition at Bangalore’s NGMA.

Each of the 77 panels is a delight to behold. They look as if they have been done quickly and highly competently by an artist with a decisive mind. On many if them, the influence of Japanese painting can be discerned. However, on every panel the subject matter is unmistakably Indian. Some of the panels depict scenes from village life (fir example, a potter at work, a tailor, wrestlers, making butter, etc) and others show animals and mythological scenes. One panel depicts an ear cleaner – a man is shown cleaning a lady’s ear with a long thin instrument. Villagers visiting the pandal (temporary shelter), which was decorated with these panels, would have had no trouble recognising Bose’s scenes of daily rural life. And political delegates would have been reminded of Gandhi’s professed allegiance to the ‘common’ people of India. Seeing these wonderful panels made me think of Socialist Realism images, but Bose’s paintings have a human touch that is lacking in politically inspired art such as Socialist Realism.

The exhibition at the NGMA is well hung and nicely lit. The panels hang in the galleries which were once rooms in the elegant Manikvelu Mansion. Several informative panels provide interesting information about Bose, his art and his association with Gandhi and his attempt to rid India of British domination.

Words of advice to an early shopper in India

Posted on by
Reply

TODAY, MY SHOULDER bag broke suddenly whilst on my way to Calcutta’s New Market – one of my favourite shopping districts. Humayun Place, which leads from Chowringhee to one side of New Market, is lined with pavement vendors. We stopped at one selling bags, and asked to see one that I hoped might be a suitable replacement for the bag whose strap had just broken.

Inside New Market in Calcutta

The bag was ‘ok’ but not ideal. We asked the price, and were quoted 950 rupees (about £9.50). We told the seller that seemed too much for such a bag. We told him that we had paid about 500 for the old bag less than a year ago. Hearing that, he said we could have it for 500, and as he spoke those words, he put it into a plastic carrier bag.

I was still not sure that this was the ideal replacement, and we began to walk away. The seller then offered us the bag for 400, saying that if we bought it would be his ‘bohni’ for the day. Hearing that and feeling that the bag was worth 400, we purchased it.

In India (and Pakistan), the custom of bohni is commonly observed. The bohni is the vendor’s first sale of the day (or at the start of some other defined period of time). Many shopkeepers believe that the bohni establishes the success of his or her business during the rest of the day.

So, one of the risks faced by those who shop soon after the stores or stalls open is they will be made to feel that they ought to buy something in order not to jeopardise the vendor’s success during the rest of the day. For, being the first to enter a shop or halt at a stall without purchasing a bohni is a bad omen for sellers.

Although I am sure most vendors who tell you that by making a purchase you are doing the bohni for the day are bona fide, there must be a few who try to achieve a sale by saying it is the bohni when it is not.

A bowler with only one leg in a park in Calcutta

Posted on by
Reply

WHEN I TRAVEL, the things that fascinate me most are not listed in any travel guidebooks. It is chance glimpses of everyday life that interest and delight me most.

This morning (9th of January 2024), we took a morning walk on Calcutta’s Maidan – a vast green space running along the western edge of the heart of the city. After entering the area from Park Street, we walked past a tall statue of Jawaharlal Nehru and came across a large pond, where a few people were bathing.

We walked along the path near to the pool, and met a flock of goats being herded along it towards us. Nearby in a large field, groups of school children were doing drill, marching on the spot, shouting “left, right, left, …”. A boy nearby was beating time on a drum. Beyond the children, there was another flock of goats. Looking away from them, we could see tall buildings through the dusty, hazy sunlight.

We followed various paths in a northerly direction, and came across a fenced in compound where we saw military cadets being taught outdoors. One of their teachers stood at a portable lectern upon which he had his lecture notes. Next, we saw a cricket match. We watched for a few moments, but nothing exciting happened.

Heading further north, we passed a huge open space fringed with various kinds of trees, including palms. Near the northern edge of the field, we came across a cricket practicing net. What we saw there was quite unexpected.

The one-legged bowler in action

There was nothing unusual about the batsman in the net. Padded up, he faced the bowlers, and whacked the balls bowled at him. There were two bowlers, who took turns to pitch the ball at the batsman.

One of the bowlers was an invalid. One of his legs had been amputated at knee level, or maybe just above. He supported himself on his one intact leg and a stout pole that he used as a crutch. Each time he bowled, the ball flew fast and was aimed accurately. Despite his considerable impediment, he was a formidable bowler. We watched spellbound as he bowled over and over again. If one had been unable to see his legs and his support, one would never have guessed that he had a serious physical impairment. It was life enhancing seeing this man making the most of life.

After watching the one-legged bowler, we hailed a taxi to carry us up to College Street, where we experienced another event that you would not find in any guidebook, but more about this in a future essay.

Perfect aim in a pharmacy shop in Calcutta

Posted on by
Reply

I HAVE BEEN TO many shoe shops in India. Some of these have the store room above the showroom. The ceiling of such showrooms has a hatch through which pairs of shoes can be thrown to the salesmen waiting below. The salesman asks for a particular shoe in a specific size, and someone in the store room drops the pair through the hatch. The shoes are caught by the salesman. Until yesterday, the 4th of January 2024, I had never seen such a system in shops other than those selling footwear.

The hatch in the ceiling of the pharmacy

Yesterday, we entered a chemist shop (a pharmacy) close to Calcutta’s New Market (SS Hogg Market). The walls were lined with shelves from floor to ceiling. These shelves were filled with boxes of medicines on what seemed like considerable disarray, although I feel sure that there must have been some organisation of the products. There were 5 or 6 men serving customers from behind the shop’s counters.

Like the shoe shops described above, the chemist shop had a hatch in the ceiling. The shop’s stock room was on the floor above the sale room. At frequent intervals, the salesmen yelled names of medicines, ointments, and so on. Somebody in the room above hurled the desired product through the small ceiling hatch. The product was aimed accurately at the salesman who asked for it. Different products kept dropping from the ceiling and being caught by the salesman who had shouted up for it. Whoever it was that was dropping the medications must have recognised the voice of the person who requested it. In addition, the person dropping the products must have had an extremely good aim. He (or she) would make a good cricket player. And the salesmen below never dropped a catch.

Having seen this amazing pharmacy, I have now poked my head into a few others, but none operated this remarkable aerial delivery system. For me, seeing things like that pharmacy near New Market is what makes India seem so wonderful.

New Year’s Eve in Belgrade and Bangalore

Posted on by
Reply

ONE YEAR DURING THE 1980s, I was in Belgrade, then the capital of Yugoslavia, on New Year’s Eve. I was staying with my good friend Raša Raićevič. He suggested that we should see in the new year at a friend’s flat I New Belgrade.

Before we set off from his flat in the older part of the city, Raša warned me to keep away from windows and off the terrace as the midnight hour approached. In the 1980s, many retired military people resided in New Belgrade, and quite a few of them possessed firearms. It was customary in those days to fire the guns at the moment a new year commenced. The risk was that ricocheting bullets might break windows or hit people out on their terraces and balconies. Fortunately, we survived the evening without mishaps, and spent the first few hours of the new year at another friend’s home, a long taxi ride away from New Belgrade.

Many years later, sometime after 2006, we were in Bangalore over New Year. My wife and I stayed at home with my recently widowed mother-in-law, who was too frail to attend a party. Everyone else in the family went out to celebratory parties.

The three of us, who remained at home, decided that we would sit together until midnight. However, by about 10 pm on the 31st of December, we all fell asleep. It was only when our daughter phoned us at 3 am that we realised we had slept through the transition from one year to the next.

My New Year’s Eve spent in Belgrade was a complete contrast to that which we slept through in Bangalore. This evening, we plan to have a slap-up dinner followed by drinks under the stars high above the city of Bangalore. I hope that all of you, dear readers, will have a great 2024.

Shops and shrines on a busy road in old Bangalore

Posted on by
Reply

I KNOW OF TWO Avenue Roads. One is in London. Lined with the homes of the wealthy, it runs between Swiss Cottage and Regents Park. The other one is in Bangalore. It runs between KR Market (aka City Market) and a large Hindu temple (mandir) where Kempe Gowda Road becomes District Office Road. Both the road in London and its namesake in Bangalore carry much traffic, but there the similarity ends.

Avenue Road in Bangalore (‘AR’) is mainly lined with all kinds of shops, especially those dealing in paper goods (stationery as well as printed books). It runs through one of the oldest parts of the city: Chickpet. The lines of shops are punctuated by small lanes and alleys that lead away from AR.

Old pillars in a mandir on Avenue Road in Bangalore

As you stroll along the thoroughfare, you will pass mandirs and one church. And near the KR Market end of the road, a short lane leads to a Muslim shrine, the Dargah-e-Hazrath Manik Mastan Sha Saherwadi. It is well worth removing your footwear to enter this peaceful place. The grave it contains is in a small room with a mirrored, domed ceiling.

Some of the mandirs on or near AR are also worth looking into. Although some of their facades look fairly recent, the carved stone columns within the buildings look quite old. Near the street entrance of one of the mandirs on AR, I saw two intricate stone carvings of Hindu subjects. Both looked as if they might have been carved several centuries ago.

The Rice Memorial Church stands in its own small grounds, separated more from its neighbours than the mandirs on AR. Named after the British missionary, the Rev Benjamin Holt Rice, this Church of South India place of worship was built between 1913 and 1916 on the site of an earlier chapel first constructed in 1834, and then later rebuilt before being demolished. Although I have passed it often, I have not yet been able to enter it.

Not far from the church and a couple of picturesque mandirs, there is a branch of the Kamat chain of eateries. You can stop there for snacks and a variety of beverages. This place is in the midst of the numerous bookshops on AR. Proclaiming discounted books, these stores mainly stock textbooks and computer programming instruction manuals. Incidentally, AR is a good place to find a wide variety of diaries and calendars.

Bustling Avenue Road in Bangalore is a far more colourful and interesting thoroughfare than its rather elegant but staid namesake more than 5000 miles away in London. The street in Bangalore and the lanes leading off it give one a good idea of the ‘flavour’ of the parts of the city which existed before the arrival of the British imperialists. It makes a fascinating contrast to the newer Cantonment areas that became established after the British began settling in Bangalore.