Tag Archives: india

Piles of stones and prayers by those seeking to build a home

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THE PUARESHWAR MAHADEV Shiv temple is about 24 miles west of Bhuj. Built about 1200 years ago, it is possibly the oldest surviving Hindu temple in the Kutch region of Gujarat. Partially restored, this attractive small mandir is still in use but has lost most of its roof.

At Puareshwar

As we approached the temple, I noticed that near it, there were numerous small piles of stones. Each of the precarious looking piles consisted of several rock’s or fragments of masonry piled carefully, one on top of another. I asked our driver, who had suggested we visit this temple on our way to Narayan Sarovar, about these small piles. He said that they were constructed by people, praying to obtain or build a home of their own.

After visiting, Narayan Sarovar, its lake and mandir, we stopped to see the mandir at Koteshwar, which is on a spit of land near India’s border with Pakistan. Outside this temple, there were many piles of stones just like we had seen at Puareshwar.

Although I have visited many Hindu temples in India during 30 years of travelling to the country, it was only yesterday, the 27th of November 2023, that I first became aware of these small stone offerings. According to one online article I found (https://medium.com/six-word-photo-story-challenge/prayer-stone-stacks-a-belief-b7fc0edc5d9a), stones are piled outside temples all over India by people hoping to build their own homes. I will now look out for them whenever I visit a mandir.

The house in the desert and a fighter for the independence of India

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A NARROW ROAD LEADS away from the town of Mandvi (in Kachchh, a part of Gujarat) into an arid sandy area close to the seacoast. Scrubby bushes populate most of this flat terrain. After a few miles, a red building can be seen on the horizon. As you approach it, you can see that it resembles no other in the surrounding area, or, for that manner, in any other part of India. However, if you are a Londoner, it would seem familiar, although quite incongruous.

Replica of India House near Mandvi, Kachchh

The house in the desert is an accurate replica of a typical Victorian house, such as can be found in North London. In fact, it is a full-size copy of number 65 Cromwell Avenue in London’s Highgate area. The reproduction near Mandvi was built as part of a complex to commemorate Shyamji Krishnavarma (1857-1930), who was born in the centre of Mandvi.

Krishnavarma, who became a barrister and worked in various Princely States, moved to London, where he lived until about 1907. He moved to Paris, and then to Geneva, where he and his wife lived until they died.

In London, Krishnavarma lived opposite Highgate Woods. He invested wisely, and became interested in the works of English men, who had their doubts about Britain’s domination of India. He became an opponent of British rule in the Indian subcontinent. At first, his interest was mainly intellectual. However, in 1905, following the partition of Bengal, he became an activist.

One of his several activities was to purchase number 65 Cromwell Avenue. He had it adapted to become a ‘home away from home’ for Indians studying in London – they frequently had to endure the racist attitudes of English people. He named the building ‘India House’ (which should not be confused with the present Indian High Commission in London).

Apart from providing Indian food, some accommodation, and some leisure facilities, India House also hosted meetings that discussed the injustice of British rule in India. Soon, India House attracted the attention of the British police. This was because India House was becoming a nucleus or hotbed of anti-British activism. For example, some of the people who frequented the House experimented with bomb making and smuggling firearms to freedom fighters in India.

Krishnavarma left London in 1907, when he feared that he might be arrested. India House continued to be active until mid-1909 when one of its visitors assassinated an important colonial official.

Krishnavarma wrote in his will that after he was cremated, his ashes should be returned to India only after it had become independent of the British.

In the early part of this cemetery, the Chief Minister of Gujarat, then Narendra Modi, decided to bring Krishnavarma’s ashes to India – to Mandvi. Some years later, a complex to commemorate Krishnavarma was built outside Mandvi. Part if this is the replica of Highate’s former India House. The ashes of Krishnavarma and his wife are stored in urns on display in a building next to the replica.

If this story interests you and you want to know much more about India House, its replica, Krishnavarma and his fellow freedom fighters, including the currently influential VD Savarkar, you should read my, dare I say it, very informative book. I have produced two versions of it. One, the latest edition is “Indian Freedom Fighters in London 1905-1910), and is available here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/d/0244270716/ . The other “Ideas, Bombs, and Bullets”, which can only be delivered to addresses in India in available here: https://store.pothi.com/book/adam-yamey-ideas-bombs-and-bullets/.

She sells papers on the pavement in Ahmedabad

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WE HAVE VISITED AHMEDABAD (Amdavad) at least five times since our first visit in 2018. We have always stayed at a small friendly hotel close to the House of MG. This former mill owner’s mansion is now a luxury hotel, which tries to create the kind of India that most foreigners have as an imagined preconception. It achieves that, but is rather too precious for my liking. On the road immediately outside this Disney like themed hotel is the ‘real’ rather than the sanitised India, which can be experienced within the House of MG.

Ever since we first stayed in Ahmedabad, we have seen a lady who sits on the pavement outside the compound of the House of MG. When we first met her, she used to sit beside her overweight husband. Sadly, he died during the covid19 pandemic. On our recent trip in November 2023, she could not be seen, and we were worried that she had also passed away. However, she appeared after several days of the Diwali holiday, and greeted us as old friends.

The reason for her temporary disappearance was that during the Diwali holidays newspapers are not printed. And she sits outside the House of MG for a good reason. She sells newspapers. When her husband was around she and he used to be surrounded by untidy piles of newspapers. We used to buy “The Hindu” from her every day. I noticed on our recent trip that her stock of newspapers was smaller and more tidily arranged than in the past. As “The Hindu” is no longer delivered to newspaper sellers in Ahmedabad, we have had to make do with “The Times of India”.

‘Our’ newspaper lady, the friendly autorickshaw drivers who hang around near her, the man who sells screwdrivers from his simple barrow, the faithful in the Sidi Saiyedd mosque opposite the luxury hotel, and the elderly Moslem gentleman watching the world go past his wheelchair are in my mind the real India and what makes it so endlessly fascinating for me.

By road and by rail through rural Gujarat

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WE HAD DECIDED TO travel to Mandvi (in Kutch, a part of Gujarat) by taking a train to Gandidham, then going by road the 98 kilometres between there and Mandvi.

The Indore to Gandidham Express arrived 30 minutes late on Ahmedabad Junction’s platform 4. Getting on to our carriage was a veritable scrum. The problem was that people, including us, wanted to board before those alighting at Ahmedabad had reached the carriage entrance. Someone behind us shouted “Hurry up and get inside.” When a passenger who was trying to leave the train replied “We want to get off”, the irritating lout behind us shouted “You should have started getting out quicker.” We struggled along the carriage and found our window seats eventually.

We had reserved seats numbers 73 and 76. A man was sitting in seat 76. When we said it was one of ours, he said that he was occupying his alloted seat, namely seat 77. It took some considerable persuasion before he understood that seat 77 did not have the number ‘76’ above it. This incident reminded me when I used to travel by train in Italy during the 1960s.

Whenever we travelled by intercity trains in Italy long ago, my parents always reserved seats – always in the first class carriages – in advance. Invariably, our reserved seats would be occupied by passengers who should not have been in them. It was o lying after the train conductor had been summoned that the people yielded our seats to us. Moments later, these obstinate people would engage in friendly conversation with us.

Returning to the Indore to Gandidham Express, before it started, vendors selling fruit and bottled water roamed along the platform looking for customers. Meanwhile, a hot tea seller moved along the interior of the train. He and others remained on board during the journey, as did a couple of snack vendors.

Once we got going, the train sped along. There was only one intermediate station where we stopped briefly during the 4 and a 1/2 hour journey. As we traversed the flat plains of Gujarat, we saw many neatly cultivated fields and numerous industrial units of varying sizes. In the area where eastern Kutch begins, we passed vast expanses of land being used as salt pans. Every now and then, we saw conical mounds of grayish white harvested salt.

Many trains passed us, travelling in the opposite direction. Almost all of them were freight trains. The line along which were moving leads to and from the busy port of Kandla on the south coast of Kutch. What little we saw of Gandidham and its outskirts was unattractive.

The air temperature at Gandidham station was well over 30 degrees Celsius and there was little shade. To exit the station, we had to use an escalator. Once again it was a scrum trying board it. Some passengers were too frightened to step on it which made using it even more difficult.

Our host in Mandvi had kindly booked us seats in a shared taxi to travel from Gandidham to Mandvi. This vehicle was like a jeep. It had a front row of seats – sofa like – and behind that there was another similar seating arrangement. Behind that, there was a far less comfortable seating space that accommodated any number of people that could be squeezed in. We were booked into the seating behind the front seats and in front of the rear ‘compartment’.

Although the middle seating had been booked for my wife and me, Lopa invited one of the three passengers who had squeezed in the front seat next to the driver to join us. He turned out to be a friendly chap. He and his friends were returning home from several days of a religious pilgrimage. Our new companion was a trader in rice, sugar, etc. He bought commodities and sold them for export. During our journey, he received a telephone call. He told us that soon after getting home, he had to go to Bombay for some urgent work. He and his business partner would have to drive for 11 hours through the night to reach Bombay from near Mandvi.

Our driver decided not use the 4 lane highway between Gandidham and Mandvi because of heavy traffic. Instead – and it made the journey far more interesting – he took us along a “short cut”, using country roads, some of them minor. This added fascination because we passed through rustic villages. At one of these, we were stopped by an elderly lady standing beside the road. She wanted to go to Mandvi, and was invited on board.

At another place, we stopped and the driver picked up a bundle tied in cloth, which he delivered to someone in another village we passed through later. After about an hour, to my great relief because my mouth was parched, we stopped for about 20 minutes at a stall where snacks and cold drinks were available.

At one point early during our journey, someone in the rear compartment asked our new companion to dial a certain number on his phone. Some conversation in Gujarati ensued. It turned out that there were some labourers travelling in the rear compartment. As they had not yet been paid by their employer, they claimed that they did not have the 300 Rupees needed to pay for the ride. Our friendly sugar trader allowed the employer to electronically transfer the required amount to his account. Our neighbour then suggested that he could electronically transfer that fare money to the driver’s account. However, the driver wanted to be paid in cash, which the trader kindly agreed to do.

Most of the way, the driver used one hand to steer, and the other to hold his mobile phone to his ear. Despite this hazardous practice, there were no scary moments along the way. We arrived at our destination safely, but somewhat cramped.

When we sat inside our host’s air-conditioned large saloon car to drive to his house, it felt as if we had moved from a stone seat into a feather bed. Never before has a modern saloon car felt so comfortable.

Despite moments of discomfort, our rail and road trip was enjoyably interesting. By the end of the journey we felt as if we had been truly travelling – a feeling that air travel often fails to provide.

Designed by a disciple of Le Corbusier but it stands disused

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THE BUSTLING KHWAJA Market in the heart of old Ahmedabad (Gujarat, India) stretches from the Bhadra Fort to the three-arched Teen Darwaja – a magnificent medieval gateway. Between the two, on one side of the marketplace, there is a 20th century edifice that is hard to miss. Built in the Brutalist style, this massive concrete building is the Premabhai Hall.

Premabhai Hall in Ahmedabad

It was completed in 1972. Its architect was Le Corbusier’s disciple and collaborator, the late BV Doshi (1927 – 2023). His building – an auditorium -replaced an earlier meeting hall, which had been built during the British occupation of India.

Looking like a giant piece of moder sculpture Doshi’s building hardly clashes with the mediaeval buildings on either side of it. Sadly, because of concerns about fire hazards, the Hall ceased being used in the 1990s. Luckily, it is still standing, but when looked at closely, it is showing signs of deterioration.

I hope that one day, the Premabhai Hall will be restored to its former glory.

The shoe repairers and a great politician of India

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MANY SHOE REPAIRERS’ stalls in India carry at least one image depicting the politician BR Ambedkar (1891-1956). Amongst his many achievements was heading the committee that drafted the Indian Constitution. Statues often show him holding a book – the Indian Constitution.

BR Ambedkar on a cobbler’s booth

Ambedkar was born into a Marathi family in what is now the state of Madhya Pradesh. His family were outside the caste system – they were “untouchables”, also known as ”dalits” or, as Mahatma Gandhi called them, “Harijans”. One of Ambedkar’s. important ambitions was to procure political rights and social liberation for the dalits.

Traditionally, and still today, Hindu leather workers (tanners, shoemakers, leatherworkers, shoe repairers, etc) were members of dalit communities (e.g., the Chamar community). It is for this reason that images of Ambedkar, who fought for their rights, appear on shoe menders’ kiosks.

A café under the banyan trees in Bangalore

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AIRLINES HOTEL IN BANGALORE has an outdoor seating area where you can enjoy beverages and South Indian vegetarian dishes, seated beneath venerable banyan trees.

You can read more about this popular, charming ‘al fresco’ café in my book of tales about travels in India. It is available from Amazon ( e.g., https://www.amazon.co.uk/HITLER-LOCK-OTHER-TALES-INDIA/dp/B0CFM5JNX5/ ) AND ALSO (if you live in India) from https://store.pothi.com/book/adam-yamey-hitler-lock-and-other-tales-india/

The Sport of Kings and a bar in Bangalore

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I MUST ADMIT that I have never been much of a sportsma, and I know hardly anything about the game of polo, apart from the fact that it involves both horses and humans. Yesterday evening, as I enjoyed a postprandial brandy in the recently renamed ‘Polo Bar’ (formerly, ‘The Mixed Bar’) at the Bangalore Club, I spotted a large ‘coffee table’ book by Jaisal Singh about Polo and India.

What surprised me is the great age of the game of Polo. It seems to have been existence in some recognisable form as long ago as the 6th century BC. Then, it was played by some nomadic peoples in Central Asia. The book in the Polo Bar has a photograph of a terracotta model of a Chinese woman playing polo. This model was made between the 7th and 11th century AD. Another photograph shows the earliest known picture of a Polo player. This depicts a man on a horse, and was created in the same era as the model.

Much of the rest of the book is about polo in India. It charts the rise in popularity of the game amongst the wealthy rulers of the Princely States and the upper echelons of the British administrators and military in India.

The Polo Bar, which until recently was known by another name, has been decorated with polo memorabilia (e.g., photographs, trophies, and horseshoes). The handle on the door leading into the bar is horse-shaped. However, for me, the most interesting polo related item is in the Club’s Gardens. It is an inscribed stone block, which was the foundation stone of the Domlur Polo Pavilion laid in January 1914 by Lady Daly, wife of the British Resident.

The stone includes the information that one Major C Rankin was “Hon-Secy” and R Evans Esq was the architect. Both were military personnel, members of the “7th (Q.O.) Hussars”. The pavilion’s building contractor was BV Venkataswami Naidu.

In “Bangalore, the Story of a City”, by M Jayapal, the author wrote that initially the race course was out at Domlur. [Hence, the existence of Old Race Course Road]. In the late 19th century it moved to near Lalbagh, and then to its present position near to High Grounds. Presumably, because there had been equine facilities at Domlur, this would have been a suitable place for the Bangalore Club to locate its polo club there. I am not sure whether anything remains of the polo club pavilion whose foundation stone stands in the Bangalore Club gardens.

According to a blog article (https://wp.me/p1YuI1-1xA) about the pavilion, this is of interest:
“Information, thanks to the Bygone Bangalore group on Facebook: The Polo Club was located on Cambridge Road, in the area that is now Cambridge Layout. Opposite the Sai Baba Temple, there exists a portion of an old building which is said to be a part of the Polo Club.”
Incidentally, the centre of Cambridge Layout is less than a mile from the heart of Domlur.

As for the Bangalore Club’s association with polo, the following words quoted from the Club’s website (www.bangaloreclub.com) are of interest:
“Bangalore Club was established in 1868 as the Bangalore United Services Club for the officers of the British Empire. Originally the buildings were occupied by the Polo Club which moved out in the beginning of the 1860’s.”

I do not know how many current members of the Club play Polo these days. Even if it is not many, the Club’s former associations with the military ( the Club was formerly a club for military officers) and the land upon which it stands justify the naming of one of its bars to commemorate what was once known as “The Sport of Kings”.

A new airport terminal in Bangalore

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DURING THE FLIGHT from Dubai to Bangalore (Bengaluru), the overhead baggage lockers on the ‘plane were filled to capacity with a diverse variety of often bulky carry-on luggage. This was in sharp contrast to what I observed on the flight from Heathrow to Dubai. On the whole, the passengers on this longer flight carried modest amounts of cabin baggage, and there was no problem accommodating it.

After a smooth flight from Dubai, we landed at Bangalore on time. I was excited to discover that we were being disembarked into the new terminal. Its construction was still underway when we left Bangalore in February 2023. It has been in use for no more than about 3 months.

I have only seen the arrivals section of the new terminal, and will have to wait before seeing, what I have heard, are the visually spectacular departure areas.

As for what I was able to see as an arriving passenger, I was neither amazed nor disappointed. The place has a feeling of great spaciousness and has much natural lighting. However, although much effort has been made to use ‘natural’ materials and plant-derived matter. For example, the immigration desks are lit from above by electric lamps in giant basket work shades. The desks are decorated with an external latticework of what looks like thin strips of bamboo. I wondered how long this would last before it becomes damaged by frequent wear and tear.

After passing through passport control, passengers enter a duty free shopping area. Its flamboyant decor seems to have been inspired by the ‘over the top’ interiors in Dubai’s airport terminals. Beyond this retail area, one reaches the baggage reclaim area, which seemed more spacious than what exists in the older terminal.

Despite not being overwhelmed by the visual nature of the new terminal, I must say that our passage through it was smooth and quicker than any of my many other arrivals at Bangalore’s airports, both old and very much older.

Wonderful new highways link the new terminal to the main road onto the city of Bangalore. However, after about 20 minutes speeding along, you are plunged into tthe city’s characteristic noisy, slow moving, congested traffic.

A Brazilian artist and the River Ganges at Varanasi

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MARINA RHEINGANTZ IS an artist whose works I had never seen until today, the 31st of October 2023. Her exhibition, “Maré”, which means ‘tide’ in Portuguese, is on at the White Cube Gallery in London’s Masons Yard until the 11th of November 2023. Most of the exhibits are painting, but there are also an embroidery and a tapestry.

Marina was born in 1983 at Araraquara in Brazil. She lives and works in São Paulo, Brazil. The works on display at White Cube tend towards being abstract, but they are not completely devoid of naturalistic content. As the gallery’s handout explained:

“Guided by observations of tidal rhythms, ocean beds and meteorological conditions, Rheingantz infuses landscapes of water with a quasi-sentient vitality … Expansive in scale and richly textured, Rheingantz’s landscapes deconstruct topography into its loosest arrangements.”

Although separated from him by many years, Marina’s paintings are almost as atmospheric as the great JMW Turner’s most impressionistic works. However, she has gone further than Turner in her almost abstract depiction of natural phenomena.

For example, this is evident in two paintings (detail from one of them above) she created following a recent visit to Varanasi (‘Benares’) on the Ganges River in India. These depict in an impressionistic way the orange embers that bodies being cremated on the burning ghats spit out onto the surface of the river. Other pictures on display express her perceptions of places as far afield as Brazil, Mexico, and Morrocco.

Not far from Piccadilly and the Royal Academy, White Cube Masons Yard is well worth a visit, It would be a shame to miss viewing the artworks created by Ms Rheingantz.