India in the 1940s
1. TARA GANDHI BHATTACHARJEEPeople see Gandhi as the Father of the Nation, but I knew him as a doting grandfather. As kids, we looked forward to his evening prayers with a sense of enthusiasm and entertainment. Every moment ofcheap patagonia pullovers being with Gandhi was an adventure.
He was often travelling through Delhi and since papa [Devdas Gandhi] edited a nationalist daily (The Hindustan Times) in Delhi, Bapuji and Ba stayed with us.
Initially, we lived at Kingsway Camp and subsequently moved into a big house at Connaught Circus, in the same premises as the newspaper s printing press. The roaring press machines were like lullaby music for us.
Bapu liked to stay in Harijan bastis, ashrams or prisons. That s where our holidays were spent. We used to visit him in a prison, or at a station if his train would pass by.
Once we visited him at Pune s Aga Khan Palace, where he was kept under house arrest. Kasturba was ill and looked frail. I must have been 10. Ba looked at me and said, I have a gift for you. When I saw the khadi sari, the first of my life, with its embroidered border, I was so thrilled I wanted to run away with it. Bapu didn t encourage gifting among family. You won t ask me to give it to anybody else? I asked. At that time Bapu was spinning the charkha and he nodded. It meant the world to me.
My father was fond of eating out. We d go to the Old Delhi Railway Station, buy a platform ticket and eat in the dining hall. Those were the best meals I ve ever had.
My first lessons in etiquette were courtesy Bapuji. Sir Stafford Cripps, a member of the Labour Party, was in India with the Cripps mission. Bapu introduced me to him and said, Please meet my granddaughter, she is the daughter of my youngest son. I was proud to be shaking hands with an Englishman for the first time. I thought it was an opportune moment to display my English speaking skills. So, when Sir Cripps asked, How do you do? I broke into a long story about how I had fever the previous day and how I couldn t go to school. Bapu took me aside and said in Hindi, When someone says How do you do , never give them so many details about your health. I was shattered. Not only had I failed in English, the man who placed such emphasis on health had asked me not to give out such detail. Every letter Gandhi wrote, whether to Lala Lajpat Rai, or Leo Tolstoy, or Nehru, started with a line enquiring about their well being.
I remember January 30, 1948 clearpatagonia outlet stores onlinely. I was in class 8 and was busy with homework. Then the phone first rang and someone said: Bapuji par goli chal gayi . The person called again. The third time I realised he was serious. My parents rushed to Birla House and there I saw my father sobbing and Nehruji sittpatagonia mlc wheelie reviewing quietly. My father, in tears, came up to me and said, Taru, Bapuji ko pranam karo . Then the entire world seemed to have gone into mourning.
(as told to Aasheesh Sharma)
15th August 1947, Independence Day celebrations at Rapatagonia evermore trail running shoes reviewjpath, New Delhi. Photo: Nehru memorial museum and library
2. SYDNEY REBEIRO
[Former professor of English and dean (Culture) at Delhi University]
Ours is a fifth generation Delhi family. My father s family moved to the Walled City area in 1909, two years before the Delhi Durbar was established.
My father was employed with the Pune Rifles. We lived in what was Delhi s most culture rich and education rich square mile. It had the Civil Lines, Hamilton Road, Tees Hazari and Kashmere Gate. It is in Kashmere Gate that the setting up of Delhi University was proposed by Viceroy Daniel Isaacs, which the British oppatagonia everlong review lipozene3ppatagonia everlong review lipozene1osed. The Dara Shikoh library and the district courts were patagonia outlet store qualityhere. The Delhi Polytechnic (which later became the Delhi College of Art) was also in the area, so was Hindu College and the new St. Stephen s building.
We stayed in a building called Rahman Manzil.
I was born in 1942, the year of the Quit India Movement. In 1946, there was talk about India breaking free from the shackles of the British. The Anglo Indians were caught in a unique situation. The general public perceived us to be close to the British because of our European lifestyle. But we were not entirely accepted by the British. I used to say Anglo Indians were the most thoroughbred half castes in civilisation. Well, we have managed beautifully, producing a Cliff Richard and a Ruskin Bond.
Our family chose to stay back. In 1940, my mom was appointed the first postmistress of India and my father got a deputation with the Delhi Improvement Trust which would carve out the New Delhi district and go on to become the DDA. Mom, referred to as dak khane ki memsaab by colleagues, stood out when just one per cent of India s workforce was female.
Established in the 1930s, the Gidney Clubpatagonia everlong review of optometry in Connaught Circus was where the Anglo Indian community met and celebrated Christmas and anniversaries and attended the May Queen Ball. Ritz Cinema was next door to us. I remember watching The Adventurespatagonia everlong review lipozene2 of Captain Marvel here. The patagonia everlong review lipozeneHindi cinemas in our neighbourhood were Novelty and Minerva and I was a big Dev Anand fan. Kashmiri Gate also had the Carlton Restaurant. It is here that the famous Rudy Cotton band, led by one of as one of India s greatest jazz saxophonists, performed live.
On 15th August, 1947, there was electricity in the air. We attended a special service at St James (Delhi s oldest church set up in 1836). After a meal at Carlton, we bought a tricolour and proudly displayed it from our window. Rahman Manzil was lit up with hundreds of lamps and pepatagonia fleece sale giftople burst crackers patagonia everlong review lipozene0and lit sparklers to ring in a pre Diwali Diwali. We had a party at home. At that time we didn t have proper record players, so someone began strumming a guitar. Even as a four yepatagonia guide jacket in a bagar old, I knew it was a special day. The image of a tricolour fluttering out of our window has always stayed with me.
(As told to Aasheesh Sharma)
ON THE ROAD TO FREEDOM: A father and a son pose with volunteer scouts, as crowds (many on bicycles) throng the Red Fort to celebrate Independence Day on August 15, 1947
3. SM SIBTAIN
[Former deputy director, Delhi Public Library]
I was seven years old when India gained independence in 1947. The Mazarul Islam School, Farashkhana (near Chandni Chowk) where I studied, gave us tricolour toffees as ppatagonia guide pants legart of the celebrations.
We led a different life we learnt the alphabet with slate and chalk (slates were cleaned with multani mitti).
My mother wore ghararas at home and my father, who worked in the Municipal Committee, wore a khaki hat to work and a felt hat for special occasions.
Though we had electricity at home since the late 1920s, we only had a few pedestal fans. Ceiling fans were not available in the market. The old fashioned, big hand pulled pankhas mounted on the walls and khus khus pardahs kept the heat out. Kerosene lamps lit up the evenings.
