THERE HAVE BEEN events that have caused people to flee from one part of the Indian subcontinent to another, traversing national boundaries. The best known of these events was the Partition of India in 1947. Another event was the Bangladesh War of 1971, which resulted in Bangladesh (formerly East Pakistan) becoming independent, no longer united with West Pakistan.
Until I visited an exhibition, “Shifting Identities”, at Arthshila, an art institution in Ahmedabad, I was unaware of India’s temporary occupation of a part of West Pakistan in 1971. In order to deflect some of West Pakistan’s army from their activities in East Pakistan, India staged an attack on Sindh, a province in West Pakistan. As a result of this, India temporarily annexed a part of Sindh close to Kacchch (Kutch). This annexation was reversed by treaty in 1972. However, this resulted in a flow of refugees from Pakistan into border areas of Gujarat and Rajasthan. Likewise, during the liberation struggle in what was East Pakistan, refugees flowed from what was to become Bangladesh into Indian West Bengal.
Amongst the migrants who sought refuge in India, there were many who were skilled in traditional crafts, notably textile manufacturing.
The splendid exhibition at Arthshila contains beautiful examples of textiles made by refugees both from Sindh and the former East Pakistan. The exhibition also includes documents and photograph albums that belonged to these people who felt it necessary to flee their former homes. The photographs in the albums were those sent to the migrants by family and friends they had left behind.
The show at Arthshila is both attractive and very moving. The exhibits are well labelled with much information. It showcases the skills that were the only riches that the refugees were able to carry with them when forces beyond their control made them feel it was necessary to leave the land that had been their home for innumerable generations.
KRISHEN KHANNA CELEBRATED his one hundredth birthday in July 2025. The NGMA (National Gallery of Modern Art) in Bombay is currently holding a superb exhibition showcasing his paintings. The show is beautifully displayed and the artworks are skilfully illuminated.
Khanna was born in Lyallpur, now in Pakistan. After the Partition of India in 1947, he worked as an official in Grindlays Bank in Bombay. However, before Partition, he had already begun painting. The bank job was just to help keep him and his family going after they had left/fled what became the Pakistani part of Punjab.
Soon after arriving in India, Khanna began associating with members of Bombay’s Progressive Art Group that included notable creators such as FN Souza and MF Hussain. Thereafter, his painting career took off, and his reputation soared.
The exhibition at the NGMA surveys Khanna’s extraordinary range of paintings. Their subject matter ranges from political to historical to religious … and much more. The show, which demonstrates the artist’s amazing versatility and great artistic skill, continues until 12 December 2025, and should not be missed if you are in Bombay.
THE WHITECHAPEL GALLERY in London’s Aldgate area often hosts exhibitions of adventurous art, and has been doing so for many decades. The current show “Hamad Butt: Apprehensions”, which is on until 7 September 2025, displays works by an artist Hamad Butt. He was born in Lahore (Pakistan) in 1962, and died of AIDS in London, aged only 32. His family brought him to London when he was 2 years old. He studied art at London’s Goldsmith College, Morley College, and Central Saint Martins.
Familiars 3
The ground floor of the Whitechapel Gallery contains three enormous sculptures. Together they form an art installation, which the gallery’s website described as follows:
“Familiars 1: Substance Sublimation Unit is a steel ladder made of glass rungs, each filled with an electrical element and crystals of solid iodine. The current ascends the ladder, intermittently heating the rungs, causing the iodine to sublimate into a purple vapour. In Familiars 3: Cradle, named after Newton’s cradle, 18 vacuum-sealed glass spheres are filled with lethal yellow-green chlorine gas. If smashed together, the gas – a respiratory irritant – would be released into the air. In Familiars 2: Hypostasis, three tall, curved metal poles, reminiscent of Islamic arches, contain bromine-filled tubes at the tips.”
Well, they were visually intriguing pieces of conceptual art. What they stand for is almost more important than their physical appearance.
Upstairs, the galleries are hung with paintings, drawings, and prints. There is also another installation that contains a set of lights emitting ultraviolet rays. Visitors are provided with protective goggles when viewing this exhibit called “Transmission”, which is yet another example of conceptual art that you need to read about to make any sense of it.
What saved the exhibition for me was the display of Butt’s paintings and prints. Ranging from almost figurative to abstract, they appealed to me immediately. It is a shame the artist lived for such a short time. That which he produced in a few years, I am sure, would have led to him becoming a noteworthy artist with a fascinating output.
THE CHEMOULD ART Gallery was founded in Bombay (Mumbai) in 1963, and ever since then it has been an important player in India’s modern art world. Until 8 June 2025, it is holding a temporary exhibition at London’s Frieze at number 9 Cork Street. The exhibition is of works by Rashid Rana (born 1968).
Rana was born in Lahore (Pakistan), where he is currently the Dean of the School of Visual Arts and Design at BNU (Lahore). Apart from being an artist, he is also a curator and an educator. He is considered to be one of Pakistan’s most innovative artists.
The exhibition in Cork Street includes 4 intriguing images. Each one consists of a mosaic of thousands of tiny photographic images, each one not much larger than a passport photograph. The photographs are not arranged randomly and subjects in neighbouring photographs seem to be unrelated to each other. They are put together in ways that when seen from a distance, form either large objects or abstract patterns. The resulting images are both fascinating and unusual.
Rana has exhibited in many parts of the world. These places are listed on the gallery’s handout and on the artist’s website. However, as far as I can determine, India is not one of these places. I wondered whether this related to the fact that an Indian gallery is displaying his works not in India but in London.
IN 1904 THE WASIF Manzil, a palace in Murshidabad (West Bengal, India) was restored after an earthquake had badly damaged it in 1897. The palace was built for Sir Sayyid Wasif Ali Mirza Khan Bahadur (1875-1959), who became Nawab of Murshidabad in 1906. It was designed by a Britisher, Mr Vivian, and a Bengali engineer, Surendra Barat. This pleasant building is a mixture of architectural styles and includes some turrets with crenellations.
Visitors can explore the interior of Wasif Manzil, which now contains a museum. The exhibits include several wooden framed mirrors, which were imported from Belgium. There are also some glass topped display cases containing dust covered documents, several of which have obsequious addresses to Queen Victoria and some of her royal successors. By the time that Wasif Ali Mirza was living, Indian royalty was very much at the beck and call of the British rulers of India. It was in their interest to appear to be loyal supporters of the Imperial rulers of India.
On the fifteenth of August 1947, when land was divided between the newly formed Pakistan and independent India (by Cyril Radcliffe who only visited India for the first tine in 1947), Murshidabad was allotted to Pakistan: it became part of East Pakistan (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murshidabad_district).
Thus, the Wasif Manzil stood on Pakistani territory. However, less than two days later, there was a territorial land swap: Murshidabad, then in Pakistan, was exchanged for Khulna, then in India. Thus Murshidabad became part of India and Khulna became part of East Pakistan (now Bangladesh).
Because of a brief period in the second half of August 1947, the Wasif Manzil was in Pakistan for less than two days.
IN AUGUST 1947, India and Pakistan became independent sovereign nations. Following this, vast numbers of Sikhs and Hindus fled from Pakistan to India, and many Muslims fled in the opposite direction. This mass migration of people was accompanied by unbelievably horrific incidents of violence; many lost their lives on both sides of the frontier. Meanwhile, in much of India, daily life for many went on without incident. A yearly publication was published in Bombay from 1919 until 1979. It was called “Times of India Annual”, but between 1942 and 1948, it was called “Indian Annual”. The 1948 issue of “Indian Annual” was published by the Times of India soon after Independence was achieved in 1947. I have a copy of this beautifully illustrated issue. In common with many magazines, it is amply supplied with advertisements. Studying these was interesting because although some of them seem to have recognised that India was independent of both the British Empire and separate from Pakistan, others have not taken this into account.
I imagine that many of the readers of the 1948 Indian Annual were Indians. The magazine includes advertisements for many products used by Indians. Many of these commercials depict faces or people. Some of them show people with faces that look Indian. These include the adverts for Firestone tyres, the India Tea Marketing Expansion Board, Cyclax (beauty products), Tata Steel, Saba Radio Company, and Himanlal Manchand (jewellers). Others feature people with faces that are unmistakably (white) European, for example: Ovaltine, Terra Trading Corporation (modern Czechoslovak glassware), Argoflex (cameras), Rogers (soft drinks), Yardley (beauty products), Rendells products (feminine hygiene), and Virol (a health product). Either these companies that used European faces were recycling pre-existing company advertising material or not sensitive to the fact that India was then independent, or both. Another possibility is that these companies were appealing to the spending abilities of the many European people who were to continue living in India until well into the 1970s. For even after Independence, there were institutions (e.g., some clubs and schools) in India that for many years were only for Europeans, but excluded Indians.
Several of the advertisements in the 1948 publication listed the cities where they had branches. Some of these listings ignored the fact that India and Pakistan were no longer parts of one country. Ovaltine was distributed by a company that had branches in Bombay, Calcutta, Karachi (Pakistan), and Madras. The mechanical and construction engineers Garlic &Co had branches in Indian cities and also in Lahore. And Modern Trading Company listed offices in Bombay, New Delhi, Karachi (Pakistan), Calcutta, and Lahore (Pakistan). Another advertisement, that for the Chicago Telephone & Radio Co. Ltd, includes listings of offices both in India and Pakistan. The Rootes Group, which manufactured cars like the Humber, the Hillman, and the Sunbeam Talbot, list their (I quote) “Distributors in India” as being in towns such as Karachi, Lahore, Peshawar, and Rawalpindi. Had the advertiser not realised that these towns were now no longer in India, but in Pakistan? In all the cases I have mentioned in this paragraph, the advertising agencies seemed to have ignored the fact that what had once been (greater) India was now India and Pakistan. Given what was happening in the way of the misery caused by the partition of India at the time the Annual was published, it seems odd or even insensitive that the advertisements display no sign that the Subcontinent had been divided.
After Independence, Jawaharlal Nehru wanted to move India into what he perceived as the ‘modern era’. Some of the advertisements reflect this both in their design and the products they were promoting. The advert for Godrej shows some tubular household furniture of a design that many would have considered avant-garde in 1948. An advertisement for Indian-made Panama cigarettes is reminiscent of the Italian Futurist style. Likewise, for the Tata steel advertisement. This has futurist features but also veers towards the Soviet Socialist Realism style.
Finally, we come to a very interesting advert, that for the Bombay based Himanlal Manchand jewellers. It depicts Indian warriors on horses and is covered with crests of various rulers of Princely States and that of the Governor of Bombay, which is accompanied by the words:
“By appointment to H.E. Rt. Hon’ble Sir John Colville, Governor of Bombay”
Sir John Colville (1894-1954) was appointed Governor of Bombay in March 1943. He held this post even after India became independent, and was replaced by Raja Maharaj Singh in early January 1948. The jewellers were also by appointment to the princely rulers of Baroda, Jodhpur, Cooch-Behar, Jubbal, Jaipur, Indore, Palanpur, and Dewas. These maharajahs had been the rulers of ‘semi-autonomous’ (vassal) states within the British Empire. All of those listed became incorporated into the India which came into existence in August 1947. Their rulers were recognised officially by the Indian government until 1971. Between 1947 and 1971, these and other rulers of princely states received a privy purse from the Indian government. In 1971, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi put an end to the majority of these payments and de-recognised their titles and put an end to all of their royal privileges. So, in 1948 when Himanlal Manchand placed their full page coloured advertisement in 1948, they were entitled to show off their appointments to Indian royalty. The advertisements alone make the 1948 Indian Annual an interesting curiosity. The articles in the magazine along with many of its fine illustrations make it into a real treasure of great historical interest. While writing this piece, I discovered that the 1949 issue can be read online (https://archive.org/details/dli.venugopal.824/page/n91/mode/2up) . Skimming through this, I noticed that some companies still depicted European faces in their adverts and others included cities in Pakistan in the lists of their branches. This was despite the fact that since October 1947 Pakistan had been fighting a war over Kashmir. This only ended on the 1st of January 1949.
ADEELA SULEMAN IS an artist based in Karachi (Pakistan). She was born in 1970 and educated at the University of Karachi. In an exhibition at London’s Grosvenor Gallery, a collection of her works relating to the life of Tipu Sultan (the ‘Tiger of Mysore’: 1751-1799) is on display until the 25th of October 2024.
For those who are unaware of his fame, Tipu Sultan (son of Hyder Ali) ruled the independent kingdom of Mysore, and defended it against the attacks of the British. However, in the end, he was killed while defending his fortress at Srirangapatna. Before his demise, he was forced to deliver two of his sons to be held by the British as hostages. This happened in 1792. His death 7 years later was due to treachery within his court.
Adeela Suleyman has painted exquisite scenes depicting stages in Tipu’s life. The paintings have been created on vintage ceramic plates (platters). Each plate is surrounded by an elaborately carved timber picture frame. The paintings are rich in detail, and reminded me of Persian or Mughal miniatures. They portray episodes of Tipu’s story colourfully and vividly. Each of the images is a delight to see. What the artist has created is an attractive and respectful memorial to a great man. According to the gallery’s catalogue, the images can be sold separately, but it would be a shame to have this collection dispersed; it would be better to keep it intact.
In addition to the painted plates, there are some sculptural items (relating to Tipu) created by the artist. although they are eye-catching, it is the painted plates that appealed to me much more.
ONE GREY SEPTEMBER afternoon, we stepped into the Almine Rech gallery in London’s Mayfair a few days before its wonderful exhibition of paintings, “Summer of Dragons”, by Hiba Shahbaz was due to end (on the 28th of September 2024). Each of the works on display depict dragons, and some of them also include human figures, often scantily dressed.
Hiba was born in Karachi, Pakistan. She studied Indo-Persian miniature painting in Lahore’s National College of Art. Then, she studied in the USA at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn (New York City), where she was awarded her Master of Fine Arts degree. She now lives and works in the USA.
The skills she gained while training to paint Indo-Persian miniatures can be seen in the much larger paintings, which are on display at Almine Rech. Some of the paintings evoked memories of Chinese or Japanese art. Others depict dragons in the company of naked women. All the paintings, including some wooden boxes decorated with paintings, were completed in 2024. I suspect that had she remained in Pakistan and produced the same images, those containing the nudes might have been severely frowned upon.
We left the gallery, feeling very satisfied with what we had seen. Although the clouds above us had become more threatening, the visual experience of the exhibition brightened our moods.
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.
RAAVI KEBAB BEGAN serving Pakistani and Punjabi food in the mid-1970s. It is located on Drummond Street, close to London’s Euston Station. This unpretentious eatery with barely any internal decoration except some mirrors with Koranic verses engraved on them in Urdu script, is next door to the Diwana Bhel Poori House. It was at the latter that we used to enjoy Indian vegetarian dishes when we were undergraduate students at nearby University College London during the first years of the 1970s. In those days, Raavi, named after the river that flows through the now Pakistani city of Lahore, did not yet exist. It was only in the early 1990s that a friend visiting from Bombay suggested that we ate with him at Raavi’s. When the grilled kebabs arrived at our table, it was love at first bite. We have been returning to Raavi’s ever since.
Raavi’s with Diwana in the backround
Yesterday (1st of September 2022), we made yet another visit to Raavi’s. As we sat down, I noticed a thick wad of photocopies held together with a bulldog clip. They were resting on top of a neatly folded shawl. Out of curiosity, I looked at the top sheet, which was a page copied from a book with annotations added in red ink. I looked more carefully and noticed that the printed text was in Italian. The page was headed “<De ingratitudine> Joanni Folci Niccolaus Maclavellus”. It is a chapter (‘The ingratitude of Joanni Folci’) from a book by Niccolò Machiavelli (aka Maclavellus), who lived from 1469 to 1527. The rest of the text on the photocopied page appeared to be a learned commentary on Macchiavelli’s chapter.
I do not know why, but I felt that Raavi’s was the last place I would expect to find scholarly papers lying about so casually. I associate the place, as do most of its many customers, with grilled meat and spicy masalas. I asked the waiter about the papers. He shrugged his shoulders and said that someone must have left them behind after eating, and that he had no idea whether anyone would return to retrieve them.
yamey 