Coming from a small town and making a mark on the national scene, writer-journalist Tasneem Khan brings women’s concerns to the forefront through her journalism and literature. Her narratives are sensitive, clear, and attempt to offer solutions. Her writing and television programmes do more than narrate women’s struggles; they challenge social mindsets and inspire change.
Here are excerpts from an exclusive conversation with her:
Let’s begin with Bwalistan. What is it about?
Bwalistan is a collection of stories rooted in Rajasthan, particularly its desert life. These stories belong to a distinct literary tradition that deeply portrays the complexities and struggles of life in the Thar Desert. Rajasthan’s desert is not just a physical landscape—it is defined by its people, culture, traditions, and way of life, all of which give it a unique identity.
Coming from a small town, it isn’t easy to make a mark in journalism and literature. How did your journey begin?
A: It’s true that paths have never been easy for women. I come from Didwana tehsil in Rajasthan’s Nagaur district. Though I grew up in a small town, my parents were educated, and our home had a culture of reading and learning. My mother’s love for books shaped me deeply. Growing up among books sharpened my ability to think, debate, and reason. I also won several awards during my school and college years.
When did you choose journalism as a career?
I formally entered journalism in 2005. From the very beginning, I was drawn to women-centric issues. I consistently wrote on gender sensitivity, domestic violence, and women’s social rights. For me, journalism is not just about reporting news; it is about engaging in dialogue with society.
Your television programmes gained special recognition. Could you tell us about them?
A: I hosted a programme called Samar Shesh Hai, which discussed women’s social and political concerns. Later, my regular show on Patrika TV, Aadhi Duniya, Poori Baat – with Tasneem Khan, became quite popular. The aim was to present women not merely as victims, but as thinking, reasoning individuals.
For which report did you recently receive the Ladli Media Award?
I received the award for my show “When Will Domestic Violence Go into Lockdown?”, presented by Population First and UNFPA. The jury felt the report exposed a harsh truththat during lockdown, women faced another terrifying pandemic inside their homes: domestic violence.
Your writing focuses less on complaints and more on solutions. How did this approach develop?
I don’t want to merely describe women’s pain. I believe writing should point toward solutions. If even one woman finds a way forward through my work, I would consider my life meaningful.
You began novel writing in 2015. How special is Mere Rehnuma to you?
A: Mere Rehnuma is extremely close to my heart. Published by the Jnanpith Trust, it was selected in a young writers’ competition. I became the second woman writer from Rajasthan whose debut novel was published by Jnanpith. Through this novel, I tried to establish that women’s empowerment cannot come through financial independence alone without a change in social mindset, empowerment remains incomplete.
Research has been conducted on this novel. How did that feel?
A: It was a matter of great pride that Mere Rehnuma became the subject of PhD and MPhil research. It reaffirmed my belief that my writing has connected at both academic and social levels.
Could you tell us about your other works and awards?
A: My short story collection Dastaan-e-Hazrat Mahal was published in 2019 and earned me the Chandrabai Award. In 2021, I received the Shakuntalam Award from the Rajasthan Progressive Writers’ Association. My stories have been translated into several languages. Rukh-e-Gulzar was translated by the Indian Translation Council, while The Blue of Silence was published in a Pakistani Urdu magazine and won the Mirror Award. My story My Share of Moonlight will soon appear in a collection by Oxford University Press.
What is your writing process like?
I observe people around me very closely their characters, pain, and struggles shake me from within. Until that restlessness finds words, I find no peace. That unrest gives birth to my stories.
What role did your parents play in your life?
My parents have been my greatest support. At difficult turns, they always encouraged me. I firmly believe parents’ education plays a decisive role in shaping a child’s future. I have seen many girls unable to move ahead simply because their parents did not value education.
The heroine of Mere Rehnuma is in search of liberation. How do you view this liberation?
A: For me, liberation is not just personal; it is social. Until society learns to accept strong women, their freedom will remain incomplete. If my writing can guide even one woman in this direction, that will be my greatest achievement.
You recently interacted with readers during the ‘Chaturang #LockdownLive’ session on Facebook. How was that experience?
The Rajasthan Forum organised the session. I spoke openly about my education, career, and literary journey. I emphasised that becoming a writer requires years of preparation, deep reading, and psychological analysis of society. I also read excerpts from my novel Ai Mere Rehnuma. The interaction was deeply personal and immensely inspiring for me.
Tasneem Khan’s journey shows how words, when driven by empathy and purpose, can challenge patriarchy, reshape thought, and quietly spark a revolution, one story at a time.
source: http://www.awazthevoice.in / Awaz, The Voice / Home> Stories / by Onika Maheshwari, New Delhi / January 19th, 2026
42-year-old Ehtesham Qutubuddin Siddiqui, who was a death row convict for nearly a decade before being acquitted by the Bombay high court earlier this month, reflects on time in prison.
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
A tiny 80-square-feet room, fitted inside a compact V-shaped enclosure known as the phansi yard (gallows yard) of Nagpur Central Prison, served as “home” for 42-year-old Ehtesham Qutubuddin Siddiqui for nearly a decade. In 2015, soon after a special Maharashtra Control of Organised Crime Act (MCOCA) court sentenced 12 individuals – five men, including Siddiqui, to death, and the remaining seven to life imprisonment – in the 2006 Mumbai serial train blasts case, he was transferred to Nagpur jail.
All 12 men were acquitted by the Bombay high court on July 21.
Siddiqui describes his decade-long solitary confinement as a place that made him feel “safe.” “In the existing political atmosphere, especially as Muslim men convicted on terror charges, this isolation was the only way we could have stayed safe in jail,” he feels.
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
An incarceration spanning two decades
Reflecting on his two decades of incarceration – nine years as an undertrial prisoner in Mumbai and then as a death row convict in Nagpur – Siddiqui says that while the trial took nearly a decade, the transition from undertrial to death row prisoner was “quite sudden.”
“One minute, we were jostling for space in the overcrowded prison barracks in Mumbai (until the lower court’s verdict), and suddenly, we were thrown into solitary confinement. It was a very small room but it was still ours. It had an attached bathroom, a ceiling fan and a tubelight,” he says, describing the prison room.
Solitary confinement in India is unconstitutional. Even for death row convicts, it is permissible only after their mercy petition is rejected by the President of India. In the serial train blasts case, the death penalty had not yet been confirmed by the High Court but they were still subjected to solitary confinement. “But none of this really matters. It’s a common practice. The moment a person is given a death sentence, the prison authorities transfer them into the phansi yard,” Siddiqui says, as he recalls the names of many death row convicts housed in the 30 tiny solitary cells near his.
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
“Many lacked proper legal representation and were simply abandoned here after the trial court imposed a death sentence. They would arrive here horrified, thinking this was where they would be hanged the very moment they reached there.”
It became almost a duty of other death row convicts like Siddiqui to explain legal procedures, offer advice, and calm newcomers in the phansi yard. Siddiqui says he saw many come and go over those ten years. “Almost all were eventually acquitted in their appeals before higher courts,” he points out.
Siddiqui’s observation is in sync with different studies on the Indian judicial system and capital punishment. The Death Penalty reports that the NLU- Delhi’s Project 39A (now renamed as The Square Circle Clinic after it shifted its base to NALSAR University of Law, Hyderabad), a criminal justice research and legal aid programme released every year has long established the pattern of death penalties getting either commuted to life or lesser punishment or in many cases, simply ending up in acquittals.
Siddiqui recalls his interactions with five men from the Shinde family, who were sentenced to death by a trial court in a rape and murder case, only to be later acquitted by the Supreme Court. The Shindes, from a Nomadic Tribal community, endured 16 years of incarceration, 13 as death row convicts.
“They would keep asking me what I thought of their case, and I would keep reassuring them they’d be out soon. That simple fact made them so happy.” The Shindes were acquitted in 2019 following a strongly worded Supreme Court judgment. Among them, Ankush Maruti Shinde, was only 17, a minor, at the time of his arrest.
Experienced sustained physical torture
Siddiqui says the hope that their innocence would eventually be proven kept them going. “We too survived prison life on that one hope. After all, how long could justice evade us?” he asks.
Siddiqui experienced both extremes of prison life: sustained physical torture in Mumbai’s Arthur Road Jail (complaints about which led to the transfer of the then-jail superintendent, Swati Sathe) and a relatively calmer existence with better food and living conditions in Nagpur. “I’m not romanticising prison life, but Nagpur’s prison was certainly a lot better. Which also means prisons can be made liveable if one wished,” he says.
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
But his co-defendant Kamal Ansari’s death during the second wave of the COVID-19 outbreak in 2021 shook him. “Everyone around us was falling sick. Kamal fell sick and was moved to the hospital ward. He never returned.”
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
Siddiqui says most of the men implicated in the case were unknown to him at the time of arrest. “But as circumstances brought us together, we eventually became each others’ support system,” he adds. The police and jail officials, he claims, tried hard to turn them against each other. “And the frustration does eventually get to you. So, each time we reached a point of anger or frustration against each other, we would simply stop talking. That helped us cool off, and rework on our relationship,” he shares.
Ehtesham Qutubuddin Siddiqui with his father at their family house in Jaunpur. Photo: By arrangement
In Nagpur, Siddiqui had no trouble accessing writing materials. So he wrote extensively. His book, Horror Saga, which details his prison life and the botched up trial, was published last year. He has a manuscript ready for his next book. He has also translated several others while incarcerated.
How did he access books and research materials in jail? “I deviced a unique method,” he says, with a sense of pride. Siddiqui filed nearly 6,000 Right to Information (RTI) applications over two decades, primarily to gather evidence against the investigating agency, which helped debunk the police’s case, and also to access books published by the government press.
Earned over 20 degrees while in prison
A college dropout at the time of his arrest, Siddiqui has since earned over 20 degrees, including several Master’s, Bachelor’s, and Diplomas. In 2001, while in his third year of a Chemical Engineering program, he was arrested for a few days for alleged involvement with the Students Islamic Movement of India (SIMI), an organisation banned that year, leading to the overnight criminalisation of many men from the Muslim community.
Since then, Siddiqui says he tried several times to complete his education and earn a formal degree, but it didn’t happen. “So, in jail, I made full use of the time to gain as many degrees as I could,” he shares.
As strange as it may sound, among the first undergraduate degrees that Siddiqui enrolled himself was Tourism. “I wanted to keep my brain stimulated somehow and not let the incarceration consume me. So, I went on this rage of enrolling myself for every opportunity that was made available,” he recalls. He knew how to read Urdu, Arabic but didn’t possess a formal degree.
“So, I got one while in jail.” Siddiqui, who worked as a Desktop Publishing (DTP) operator as a local publishing house in Mumbai, now holds an MBA degree, master’s degrees in English Literature, Sociology, Marketing, and Financial Management, and diplomas in Nutrition and Mass Communication, among others. He is in the final semester of a three-year law degree.
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
If not studying, Siddiqui would take care of the small garden outside the barrack. “Those plants were the only pretty thing to look at,” Siddiqui laughs. The prison rules don’t allow assignment of any work to a death row convict. Which means, even though Siddiqui worked, he was not paid for his labour.
According to the Maharashtra state’s revised prison rules, a convicted prisoner is paid up to Rs. 65 per day, although a paltry sum and much lower than the minimum wages standards, yet some money that most incarcerated people look forward to to lead a dignified life in jail or to take back home at the end of their jail term.
Having spent nearly two decades in different prisons of Maharashtra, Siddiqui says the level of surveillance is “simply unnerving” now. “You will find hundreds of cameras loom overhead. Even a slight movement for exercise inside your barrack is instantly tracked, and jail officials confront you with a barrage of questions,’ he says.” Surveillance doesn’t stop here.
Abdul Wahid Shaikh, one of 13 arrested in this case and acquitted in 2015, and several other terror accused have had to install multiple CCTVs inside and outside their homes to simply shield themselves from police harassment.
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
‘Since release, every experience feels new’
On July 21, when the high court acquitted the 12 men, their release orders were immediately executed – an unusual move. In many cases, even after the court order reaches jail authorities, releases are delayed, just to allow the state to file an appeal in the higher court. “Maybe they just wanted us out. The Solicitor General of India, Tushar Mehta, stating before the Supreme Court that the state no longer wanted us in jail is quite telling,” Siddiqui points out.
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
Since his release, every experience feels “new,” Siddiqui says. He and his co-defendant, Shaikh Mohammed Ali Alam Shaikh, boarded a flight from Nagpur to Mumbai. “Hairaan kar diya Mohammed Ali ne (Mohammed Ali exhausted me),” he laughingly shares, as he narrates the experience of tasting freedom for the first time in two decades. “He was so excited he simply couldn’t stop talking. I worried his chatter would draw attention. I told him, ‘Bhai, agle ek ghanta shaant rehna (Brother, stay calm for the next hour).”
At Mumbai airport, they were met by a media frenzy. “We didn’t know how to handle this sudden attention; the last time we experienced anything like this was two decades ago at the time of our arrest,” Siddiqui says. In Mumbai, they had the chance to take a train to reach the Jamiat Ulema-i-Hind (an organisation that provided legal aid to the men all along) office but chose not to. When asked why, Siddiqui pauses but says nothing.
Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty
At the time of his arrest, Siddiqui lived in Mira Road, but he now stays with his family in Younuspur, Jaunpur district, Uttar Pradesh, where his parents, four siblings, and, most importantly, his wife, Sabina, reside. Siddiqui and Sabina were married for less than a year at the time of his arrest in 2006. Siddiqui was only 23 at the time of his arrest, Sabina even younger.
‘She stood by me, and my parents cared for her as their own’
“In those 19 years, I must have told her many times this could be an endless wait and that I wouldn’t hold it against her if she sought a divorce. But she was steadfast. She stood by me, and my parents cared for her as their own,” Siddiqui says. He calls Sabina the “real hero” of his story. “Her resilience and trust in me was so deep.I can’t express my gratitude enough,” he tells The Wire.
Returning to Younuspur was an emotional homecoming. “When I got home, we just cried. We barely talked; we just cried for many hours.” Relatives and well-wishers have been visiting non-stop. “I don’t recall most faces, but it would be rude to say so, so I simply nod. When I was behind bars, these individuals offered support and solidarity to my family. Now they are here again to celebrate my freedom. It’s all too surreal,” he says.
Siddiqui might have returned with close to two dozen degrees, but the future still looks “uncertain,” he admits. “Finding a job might not be possible. Maybe I will consider pursuing a legal profession,” he thinks aloud. But for now, he says he wants to just return to writing those many stories he has. “The ones I’ve safely kept locked inside me for so many years.”
source: http://www.thewire.in / The Wire / Home> English>Rights / by Sukanya Shantha / July 27th, 2025
Muslim Mirror’s 100 Most Influential Muslims of 2025
New Delhi:
Muslim Mirror has released its much-anticipated annual list of the “100 Most Influential Indian Muslims of 2025,” spotlighting individuals who have made significant contributions to India’s public life across a wide spectrum of fields including politics, culture, education, business, media, religion, sports, and social service. Now in its second edition, the list aims to document influence not merely as power or popularity, but as sustained impact, leadership, and the ability to shape public discourse.
A defining feature of the 2025 edition is the growing prominence of younger achievers, signalling a visible generational shift within Indian Muslim leadership. Alongside established national figures, the list includes emerging voices who have built influence through grassroots activism, professional excellence, digital platforms, legal advocacy, education, and community engagement. Editors associated with the project said this was a deliberate attempt to recognise new centres of influence beyond traditional hierarchies.
The list reflects the diversity and plural character of Indian Muslim society, cutting across geography, ideology, profession, and language. From seasoned politicians and religious scholars to artists, entrepreneurs, academics, and social reformers, the compilation offers a broad snapshot of leadership trends at a time when issues of representation, constitutional values, and social justice remain central to national debate.
Representation Across Sectors
The 2025 list features several eminent academicians and intellectuals who have shaped higher education, policy discourse, and social research. Among them are Abul Qasim Nomani, Ameerullah Khan, Furqan Qamar, Shahid Jamil, and Ubaid-ur-Rahman, recognised for their contributions to education, public policy, and academic leadership.
In the business and entrepreneurship category, the list includes influential names such as Azad Moopan, Azim Hashim Premji, Farah Malik, Irfan Razack, M. P. Ahammed, Mecca Rafiq Ahmed, Meraj Manal, Syed Mohamed Beary, P. Mohammed Ali, Shahnaz Hussain, Tausif Ahmad Mirza, Yusuff Ali, and Ziaullah Sharif. Their inclusion underlines the growing economic footprint of Indian Muslim entrepreneurs, both domestically and globally, spanning sectors from retail and healthcare to infrastructure and consumer goods.
Community leadership remains a strong pillar of the list, with figures such as Arshad Madani, Mahmood Madani, Malik Motasim Khan, Mehmood Pracha, Syedna Mufaddal Saifuddin, Navaid Hamid, Pirzada Md Abbas Siddiqui, Qasim Rasool Ilyas, Sadatullah Husaini, Umer Ahmed Ilyasi, and Yusuf Mohamed Abrahani recognised for their roles in religious guidance, legal advocacy, social mobilisation, and institutional leadership.
Culture, Media, and Public Discourse
In arts and entertainment, globally recognised names such as A. R. Rahman, Aamir Khan, Mammootty, Munawar Faruqui, and Shah Rukh Khan continue to command immense cultural influence, shaping narratives that extend well beyond cinema and music into social consciousness.
The list also acknowledges the growing importance of media and journalism in shaping opinion and challenging dominant narratives. Journalists and commentators such as Arfa Khanam, Irfan Meraj, and Seema Mustafa are recognised for their consistent engagement with issues of democracy, minority rights, and constitutional values.
Religious and Intellectual Scholarship
A significant section of the list is devoted to Islamic scholars and religious thinkers, reflecting their continued influence on moral leadership and intellectual discourse. Names such as A. P. Aboobacker Musliyar, Qasim Nomani, Prof. Akhtarul Wase, Asghar Ali Imam Mahdi Salafi, Asjad Raza Khan, Ibraheem Khaleel Al-Bukhari, Javed Jamil, Khalid Saifullah Rahmani, Khaleelur Rahman Sajjad Nomani, Qamaruzzaman Azmi, Rashid Shaz, Shakir Ali Noori, Shamail Nadvi, and Yasoob Abbas find place for their scholarly work, writings, and public engagement.
Politics and Governance
The political category features leaders cutting across party lines and regions, including Asaduddin Owaisi, Ghulam Nabi Azad, Hamid Ansari, Mehbooba Mufti, Omar Abdullah, Salman Khurshid, Najeeb Jung, Syed Naseer Hussain, Engineer Rashid, Akhtarul Iman, Iqra Hasan, Zameer Ahmed Khan, Rakibul Hasan, K. Rahman Khan, Kadir Mohideen, Mohibullah Nadvi, Md Shafi, Agha Mahadi, Asim Waqar, and Sadiq Ali Shihab Thangal. Their inclusion reflects influence exercised through electoral politics, governance, diplomacy, and legislative advocacy.
Changemakers and Social Reformers
One of the most dynamic sections of the 2025 list is that of changemakers and social reformers, featuring individuals such as Safeena Husain, Shahabuddin Yaqoob Quraishi, Syeda Hameed, Zameer Uddin Shah, Mahbubul Hoque, Sabahat S. Azim, Mehmood Pracha, Faiz Syed, and Zahir Ishaq Kazi, among others. Many of these figures have earned recognition through long-term grassroots work rather than formal authority.
International Booker Prize 2025 winner Banu Mushtaq for Heart Lamp, along with renowned poet Wasim Barelvi, has been placed in the category of Literary Figures.
In sports, iconic names Sania Mirza and Irfan Pathan continue to inspire younger generations through excellence and public engagement beyond the playing field.
Beyond Rankings
The editors emphasised that the list does not claim to be exhaustive, nor does it measure influence solely through fame, wealth, or official position. Instead, it seeks to capture real-world impact, moral authority, intellectual contribution, and the ability to shape conversations within and outside the community.
The annual list has increasingly become a reference point for understanding evolving leadership patterns among Indian Muslims. By foregrounding both established figures and rising talents, the 2025 edition reflects continuity as well as change, underscoring how Indian Muslims continue to contribute meaningfully to India’s democratic, cultural, and social field.
source: http://www.muslimmirror.com / Muslim Mirror / Home> Indian Muslim / by Muslim Mirror / January 15th, 2026
From a small-town reporter in Sathupally to a voice of conscience in the city, Mohammad Mujahid’s journey is a lyrical testament to the power of the written word in an age of discord.
Hyderabad:
In a world increasingly divided by invisible walls, Mohammad Mujahid is a man busy building bridges. His tools aren’t mortar and stone, but the elegant curves of the Telugu script and an unwavering belief in the human spirit.
What began two decades ago as a young man’s quest for truth in the dusty lanes of Khammam district has today blossomed into a significant literary movement – one that seeks to replace prejudice with poetry and fear with understanding.
The Genesis of a Vision
The spark for Mujahid’s odyssey was a profound spiritual mandate. Inspired by the Prophet Muhammad’s ﷺ exhortation – “Convey from me, even if it is a single word” – Mujahid didn’t just find a career; he found a calling.
Starting in 2000 as a contributor for the Eenadu daily, he realised early on that the greatest distance between two communities is often a lack of shared language. He chose to bridge this gap by bringing the essence of Islamic thought to the Telugu masses, stripping away the dense layers of Urdu and Arabic to reveal universal truths in a tongue that felt like home to millions.
Mujahid’s writing is characterised by a rare “soul-to-soul” connection. He doesn’t just inform; he heals.
The Myth-Buster: Through seminal works like ‘Islam Velugu’ (The Light of Islam) and ‘Islam Jeevana Tarangalu’ (The Rhythms of Islamic Life), he has acted as a literary surgeon, delicately removing the tumours of misconception and Islamophobia that often plague social discourse.
The Gardener of Souls: His work ‘Balavanam’ (The Children’s Garden) is perhaps his most tender contribution. It is an investment in the future, teaching children that values like kindness, honesty, and empathy are the true universal languages.
The Social Poet: When the journalist in him meets the poet, the result is a stinging yet hopeful commentary on contemporary issues. His verses don’t just rhyme; they reason.
A Chorus of Approval
It is rare for a writer to find equal resonance among religious scholars and secular literary icons. Mujahid has achieved exactly that.
The legendary Jnanpith Awardee C. Narayana Reddy (CiNaRe) once found his style captivating, while the eminent Qur’an translator Sheikh Hamidullah Sharif saw in him a powerful ally for truth. From historians like Syed Naseer Ahamed to veteran editors like Ejaz Aslam, the consensus is clear: Mujahid’s pen is a social necessity.
For Mujahid, the journey is far from over. He remains a man on a mission, driven by the philosophy that silence in the face of social decay is complicity.
“The message of peace isn’t the property of a religion; it is the inheritance of humanity,” he often says. In his modest workspace, the scratching of his pen continues to be a defiant sound against the noise of hate.
At a time when the fabric of society feels frayed, Mohammad Mujahid reminds us that a single individual, armed with an honest pen and a heart full of harmony, can still rewrite the story of a nation. His life is not just a biography; it is a blueprint for coexistence.
source: http://www.radiancenews.com / Radiance News / Home> Features> Focus / by Saad Mohsin / January 14th, 2026
Anupama, the state’s only women’s monthly Kannada magazine run entirely by Muslim women, has completed 25 years. To mark this milestone, Chief Minister Siddaramaiah released a special silver jubilee issue, reflecting on its 25-year journey of success, in Bengaluru on Thursday.
Speaking at the event, the Chief Minister congratulated the team, saying, “There are only a handful of Muslim women in journalism. In such a scenario, it is highly commendable that the Anupama Women’s Monthly, run by women from the Muslim community and has successfully completed 25 years.”
Shahnaz M., the editor of Anupama, also spoke at the occasion. “The implementation of the ‘Guarantee’ schemes for women in the state has brought about significant changes in their lives. On behalf of the Anupama team and all women, I extend my gratitude to the government led by CM Siddaramaiah for their commitment to women’s development,” she stated.
The event was attended by Naseer Ahmed (Political Secretary to the CM), MLA Dr. Yathindra Siddaramaiah, BMTC Vice-Chairman Niket Raj Maurya, and Anupama’s sub-editors Samina Uppinangady, Sajida Momin, and Kulsum Abubakkar. Other notable attendees included S.M. Muthalib, Faisal Ismail, and Saleem Bolangadi.
source: http://www.radiancenews.com / Radiance News / Home> Latest News> Report/ by Radiance News Bureau / January 10th, 2026
Tehmina Punvani (second from left) with Salman Khurshid and Manish Tewari releasing the Book
Tehmina Punvani offered a rare glimpse into her grandmother’s life. Her grandmother, Begum Qudsia Rasul, was no ordinary woman; she was the only Muslim woman in the Constituent Assembly that drafted India’s Constitution in 1949.
The occasion was the launch of Begum Qudsia Rasul’s book, 24 years after her death.
Tehmina Punvani, a lawyer, is the daughter of Begum Qudsia’s daughter.
Speaking at the book launch in Delhi, Tehmina said, “For the world, she was a fearless political figure, but for me, she was my Ammijan, gentle, grounded and unwavering in her integrity.”
Punvani recalled the period when a fatwa was issued against Rasool for entering public life. While the family felt fear, Rasul was composed.
“If my conscience is clear, no decree can frighten me,’ she would say,” Punvani recounted, drawing applause from the audience.
The book, Begum Qudsia Rasul – The Remarkable Life Of The Only Muslim Woman In the Constituent Assembly, is a relaunch of her autobiography “From Purdah to Parliament: The Memoirs of a Muslim Woman in Indian Politics” on the life and political legacy of this remarkable Muslim woman leader of India.
The Book Begum Qudsia Rasul – The Remarkable Life Of The Only Muslim Woman In the Constituent Assembly
The event brought together journalists, lawyers, and political leaders to revisit the contributions of a woman forgotten in mainstream historical narratives.
Moderated by journalist Nidhi Razdan, the panel featured Salman Khurshid, Indira Jaising, Manish Tewari, and senior lawyer Tehmina Punvani.
Begum Qudsia Rasul, born in 1909, was the only Muslim woman in India’s Constituent Assembly. A trailblazing politician, she opposed religious reservations, championed minority rights, and promoted women’s hockey.
Elected to the Rajya Sabha and Uttar Pradesh Assembly, she received the Padma Bhushan in 2000.
Besides being the only Muslim woman in the 1946 Constituent Assembly, she fought for minority equality and opposed religious reservations.
Qudsia Begum was also elected to the UP Assembly, Rajya Sabha and served as a minister.
She is credited with promoting women’s hockey, and a Hockey Cup is named after her. She was a trailblazing woman for giving up purdah. Besides her autobiography, she has authored a travelogue, Our Bapu, a book on Mahatama Gandhi and Hayat-e-Qudsi, about Bhopal’s Begums.
Tehmina said that despite her political stature, Rasul stayed close to the grassroots. “She met women daily, listened to their concerns, and worked for them without fanfare. Activism, for her, was a duty, not an identity.”
Other speakers highlighted Rasul’s exceptional resilience in an era when Muslim women faced social barriers.
Former Union Minister Salman Khurshid explained that Qudsia had won from a general seat to the United Province Assembly despite many technical hurdles. “It was an extraordinary act of courage,” he said.
Congress MP Manish Tewari underlined the democratic significance of her public life: “Her presence in the Constituent Assembly reflected India’s openness at a time of enormous political and social turbulence.”
Noted lawyer Indira Jaising praised Rasul’s moral clarity and empathetic leadership, calling her “a rare combination of conviction and humility.”
Speakers were unanimous in calling for acknowledging Begum Qudsia Rasul’s contributions and a prominent place for her in India’s political history.
Rolli Books has published this book.
source: http://www.awazthevoice.in / Awaz, The Voice / Home / by Aasha Khosa, ATV / December 11th, 2025
Curated by noted historians Rana Safvi and Swapna Liddle, DAG also launched a book, Delhi Durbar: Empire, Display and the Possession of History, co-authored by the duo.
The Imperial Durbar (1903) | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
In an important contribution to a facet of Delhi’s rich history, DAG is hosting an exhibition drawn from its archives of the city’s resplendent durbars. Curated by noted historians Rana Safvi and Swapna Liddle, DAG also launched a book, Delhi Durbar: Empire, Display and the Possession of History, co-authored by the duo.
“The British Delhi Durbars have been the subject of much recent scholarly study and re-evaluation,” writes Ashish Anand, the CEO and managing director of DAG. “The objects in this exhibition bring them materially present, through works by some of the leading artists and photographers of the period.” The essays give readers an insight into the city that was. We also get rare visuals of Delhi, its monuments, and its three durbars — all of which were landmarks in British-ruled India.
Safvi speaks to Magazine about the project. Excerpts:
Companion of the Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Question: Can you shed some light on the DAG project?
Answer: This exhibition was conceived by Giles Tillotson, senior vice president – exhibitions at DAG. It is the first exhibition that has been drawn from the DAG archives.
Q: With all the attention on the Central Vista project and the new Parliament, how important is it to revisit Delhi’s history?
A: Every ruler negotiates his/ her idea of kingship. If we read the history of Delhi, kings starting with the Tomara dynasty built cities and citadels to perpetuate their memory. While the Mughal city of Shahjahanabad played a pivotal role in the three Delhi durbars, the last one saw King George announce the shifting of the British capital from Calcutta to Delhi. He also laid the foundation for a new city. This is known today as Lutyens’ Delhi.
Q: The book talks of three durbars. How different were each?
A: While all three durbars were unique, there was a thread of continuity. They were all held in the Coronation Park in Delhi and close to the Ridge where the British had fought the Indian forces in the Uprising of 1857. [They] appropriated some Mughal symbols in a bid for continuity and so that Indians could relate to them.
The first durbar, held just 20 years after the Uprising, was called the Imperial Assemblage and was meant to announce the assumption of the title of Kaiser-e-Hind by Queen Victoria with pomp and splendour. It was also meant to legitimise and popularise British rule, using many of the idioms of the Mughal empire, including the word ‘durbar’, which Indians were familiar with.
The second, held in 1903, was to celebrate the coronation of King Edward VII. This durbar envisaged by the viceroy Lord Curzon was a grandiose event with the viceroy and 48 Indian princes riding on elephants through the city in a ceremonial procession. An art exhibition was conceived by Lord Curzon, in his own words, to ‘show that India can still imagine and create, and do’.
The third durbar of 1911 was the first in which the British monarch himself was present with his consort Queen Mary. It announced the reversal of the highly unpopular partition of Bengal and was also used to announce the shifting of the imperial capital in India from Calcutta to Delhi.
Historian Rana Safvi | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Q: The historic Jama Masjid was under British occupation for almost five years after the Uprising of 1857. Why and how did it become a vantage point for the durbar in 1903?
A: After the fall of Delhi, Jama Masjid was confiscated by the British; it was used as a mess and horses were tied along its corridors. In 1862, it was returned to Muslims for worship. The Jama Masjid has always been a symbol of Mughal magnificence and of Muslim togetherness.
Q: Can you elaborate on the demolition of Masjid Akbarabadi during the Uprising? It doesn’t always find a place in our textbooks…
A: When the city of Shahjahanabadwas being built, members of royalty as well as nobility were encouraged to build and add to it. Three mosques were built by three wives of Mughal emperor Shah Jahan. Fatehpuri Begum built the Fatehpuri mosque, Sirhindi Begum the Sirhindi mosque and Akbarabadi Begum the Akbarabadi mosque.
After the fall of Delhi, when the British army was victorious, the city and its people were punished for their ‘rebellion’. While many notables of Shahjahanabadwere killed or driven out of the city, the monuments and buildings were taken over. Fatehpuri mosque’s compound and galleries were auctioned and bought by Lala Chunnamal Ki Haveli and Akbarabadi Masjid was demolished. There is a beautiful description of Akbarabadi mosque in Syed Ahmed Khan’s Asar-us-Sanadid.
Delhi Durbar: Empire, Display and the Possession of History | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Q: Does the Coronation Durbar of 1911 mean the British had accepted the primary place of Delhi in India’s history?
A: Delhi’s importance can be seen from the fact that all three durbars were held here. Delhi was associated with Indraprastha, the legendary capital of the Pandavas, and was the city from where the Tomaras, Delhi Sultans and the Mughals ruled. Delhi’s grand history and traditions were used in the durbars. In the 1911 durbar, King-Emperor George V and Queen Mary even gave a jharokha darshan from the Red Fort’s Musamman Burj to Indians in the Mughal tradition.
ziya.salam@thehindu.co.in
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Entertainment> Art / by Zia Us Salam / September 29th, 2023
Muslims not affiliated to political parties have very little chance of making it to public life.
Sir Shafaat Ahmed (left) in Egypt with Jinnah and his sister Fatima.
On September 2, 1946, members of the Interim Government took oath in Delhi. The Interim Government was formed to facilitate the transfer of power from the British to Indians, and consisted entirely of Indians, except for the Viceroy and the commander-in-chief. The plan was for it to have a total of 14 members which was to include five Hindus, five Muslims, and one member each from the Scheduled Caste, Parsi, Sikh and Christian communities, but before it finally took office, there was much debate and politicking, some of its acrimonious, about its composition and structure.
Only 12 positions were finally filled: Jawaharlal Nehru, Sardar Patel, Rajendra Prasad, C. Rajagopalchari, Sarat Chandra Bose, Dr John Matthai, Sardar Baldev Singh, Jagjivan Ram, C.H. Bhabha, Asaf Ali, Syed Ali Zaheer and Sir Shafaat Ahmed. Mohammed Ali Jinnah, who had broken away from the Congress, stayed away as he wanted the Muslim members to be only from the Muslim League. One of the names he objected to was that of Sir Shafaat Ahmed Khan, a scholar politician.
His appointment offers an example of how to the political trajectory of ‘independent’ – i.e. non-politically affiliated – Muslims in India has been fraught with strife.
The inclusion of these three Muslims undermined Jinnah’s constant demand that all Muslim members of the Interim Government should be from the League. “The Viceroy only added insult to injury by nominating three Muslims who, he knows, do not command either the respect or the confidence of Muslim India,” said Jinnah after Viceroy Wavell’s announcement. The inclusion of Sir Shafaat had particularly riled the Muslim League because he had left it over fundamental differences. While in the League, he had defended it publicly but also disagreed on many issues – the final parting came when the League asked that titles given by the British be returned, and Sir Shafaat disagreed strongly.
On the evening of August 24, 1946, as Sir Shafaat was returning from his walk, he was attacked by two youngsters near Darbhanga House (which now houses a school) in Shimla. He received deep wounds on his head, chest and neck. The incident happened just a few hours after Wavell announced on radio that Sir Shafaat would be a member of the Executive Council. This was a rare and outrageous physical attack on a high-ranking Muslim, and is also a telling statement on the precarious position of the independent Muslim.
Jinnah’s notion of non-League Muslim leaders as lacking respect among Muslims was central to his self-declared position as the sole spokesman of the community. He also argued that even the Congress be not allowed to nominate a Muslim, a condition that was never accepted by the British. The attack on Sir Shafaat Ahmed was reflective of the rather restricted space in the political firmament for Muslims who were not in either the Congress or the Muslim League camp. Two more Muslim leaders could have been inducted in the Interim Government (to take the total number of Muslims to five), but the questions of acceptability and legitimacy of any non-League, non-Congress Muslim prevented that.
‘Congress Moslem’
Reporting on the tussle over the composition of the Interim Government, newspaper reports would describe the Muslim members as either “Congress Moslem”, “non-League Moslem”. For, as the formation of the Interim Government shows, there was hardly any scope for the ‘Muslim’ equivalent of a C.H. Bhabha, who was a businessman, or the Sikh leader Sardar Baldev Singh, both independent of political affiliations, a situation which continues even now.
Discussing the problems facing the composition of the Executive Council with Leo Amery, the secretary of state for India, Viceroy Wavell on June 20, 1945 wrote from Delhi: “The main difficulty is likely to arise over non-League Moslems if Congress insist on putting forward Moslem names. There would also be difficulty in inclusion of non-League non-Congress Moslems.” This is very similar to independent Muslim political actors/formations, not aligned with big parties, struggling to gain legitimacy or patronage.
Sir Shafaat’s inclusion may indicate that there was a scope for a non-Congress non-League Muslim, but it was predicated by the non-participation of Jinnah’s League. On October 26, 1946, three members – Sarat Bose, Sir Shafaat and Syed Zaheer – resigned to make way for the Muslim League, after Jinnah agreed to join the Interim Government.
This brief elevation to a top public office was the highpoint in the political career of Sir Shafaat. In January 1947, there were talks of appointing him as India’s high commissioner to Canada, but it never happened. He had been a member of the UP Legislative Council in the 1920s, part of the Muslim delegation to the Round Table conference and also was India’s high commissioner to South Africa from 1941 to 1944.
Sir Shafaat’s entry to politics was through academia, and not through the popular routes of law or journalism. He is perhaps best remembered as a historian who played a role in the establishment of the Indian History Congress and presided over its first meeting in June 1935 in Pune. As chairman of the Modern Indian History at University of Allahabad he started the Journal of Indian History in 1924. He also taught at University of Madras and Aligarh Muslim University.
He died in Shimla in July 1947, having fallen ill two months earlier. Reporting his death the Congress-supporting Bombay Chronicle noted: “During the greater part of his public career, Dr Shafaat Ahmed Khan, an eminent professor of History and a politician, belonged to a school of thought and activity which quite rightly did not find favour with nationalist India and the Congress. That is why the news of his inclusion in the first Interim Cabinet was received with surprise rather than satisfaction.”
This characterisation of his appointment by the Bombay Chronicle as a “surprise rather than satisfaction” was at odds with the official Congress stand, but was still more charitable than the views of those who placed a greater importance on the joint participation of the Congress and the League in the Interim government. Reflective of the wider mood of the period, Sir Chimanlal Setalvad, for example, termed Sir Shafaat’s inclusion as “unfortunate” and “provocative” to the Muslim League, signifying that the idea of a representative national government during the high politics of Partition could only include Muslims from the League and the Congress.
Muslim representation today
It is only in retrospect that we can assess the figure of Sir Shafaat in the context of the idea of Muslim representation, which requires moving away from the dominant narratives of Congress-Muslim League matrix in the years leading to Partition. It seems that the restrictive bracketing of the nature of Muslim representation is not new, and has a tradition of being inherently inimical to independent voices and movements. It has now taken a much uglier turn.
In colonial India, there was a strong Muslim political presence in Punjab and Bengal, which has continued post-Independence in the form of IUML, MIM and other regional parties. But the story of the national level since then has been different. In independent India, Muslims voted largely for the Congress, which also gave a platform to community leaders. But now with the Congress’s electoral losses, the political sphere has shrunk.
In the current Lok Sabha (like the previous one) too, the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) does not have a single Muslim. As the dominant political party, this situation raises a larger existential question on the conception of a Muslim politician itself.
The recent rhetoric of ‘UPSC jihad’, implying the infiltration of the civil services by Muslims, further shows the discomfort in certain sections of the Indian society over Muslims holding positions in public life. Whether it is bureaucracy or politics, it is clear that a narrative of hate and fear, driven by a dangerous construction of undesirability of Muslims in high offices seems to be the driving impulse.
The percentage of Muslim bureaucrats in India has been historically low, and the community’s shrinking political representation in Parliament brings to focus the vexed issue of Muslim representation and shows that walking the political terrain for Muslims has been difficult without patronage from established parties.
Danish Khan is a UK-based journalist and a doctoral candidate at University of Oxford.
source: http://www.thewire.in / The Wire / Home> Analysis> History / by Danish Khan / September 02nd, 2020
The cities created in the Deccan by Muslim leaders introduced the concept of public space to the Indian world.
Photograph of Aurangabad from the Allardyce Collection: Album of views and portraits in Berar and Hyderabad, taken by an unknown photographer in the 1860s. This view is of the Kham River, the city lies along its right bank. Photo: Public domain/Wikipedia.
When India specialists examine what Islam has brought to the country, they often focus on cultural aspects such as language, poetry, music, painting, culinary arts, or spirituality. They rarely consider the urban dimension.
Certainly, historians and geographers readily examine how what the Marçais brothers called “the Islamic city” spread throughout India, but mainly to see it as an exogenous institution, even an enclave sheltering an elite that came from outside and was cut off from society. Pratyush Shankar’s recent book covers this dimension, of course, but goes further.
In History of Urban Form of India, a work based on the analysis of 42 Indian cities, the author distinguishes three types of cities – which form the three parts of the book: ancient cities, medieval cities, and cities produced by the modern state.
Ancient cities, apart from those of the Indus civilisation, are mainly epitomised in the “temple cities” of southern India. While medieval cities follow several different patterns, Pratyush Shankar distinguishes above all between merchant cities – typical of Gujarat – those of the Himalayas (whose form is conditioned by the terrain), and those built by Muslims in the Deccan.
Comparing them proves very useful in understanding Islam’s contribution to the Indian civilisation – something Pratyush Shankar helps us to do, without attempting it himself – thanks to his morphological approach to the city: he is interested only in the form of the city, not in its local mode of governance or its relationship with the state.
All Indian cities inherited a significant part of their form or structure from the caste system. Pratyush Shankar points out in the introduction that the “Caste system had a huge impact in determining the location and formation of neighbourhood clusters that were inward looking (in cases of Jodhpur and Udaipur) and the possibility to shut off from the city by controlling the gates (Pols of Ahmedabad)”.
History of Urban Form of India: From Beginning till 1900’s, Pratyush Shankar, OUP, 2024.
The caste logic is naturally at work in the “temple city”:
“The idea of using a Brahmin settlement (with a temple) for creating a surplus economy was central to the birth of cities in South India. This was legitimized through the Brahminical ideology of the Brahmin-Kshatriya coalition expressed through Vedic and puranic religion”.
And naturally, the “temple city” is “divided into various sectors based on function differentiation that was represented through various caste-based housing. The caste system was strictly observed and manifested itself in the planning of these urban centers”.
The cities built by Muslim leaders from the 14th century onwards in the Deccan did not escape the caste system – especially since distinguishing between Hindu and Islamic cities constitutes “a very simplistic binary” that does not reflect a much more complex reality. But these medieval cities of the Deccan added something new to the urban form that had prevailed in the country until then. This innovation did not take place within the city, but outside – and still, that was a key element of the city dynamics: not far from the city walls, but well outside the city itself, Sufi saints settled in an almost systematic manner. They deliberately distanced themselves from the city to show their detachment from material things and live in peace. At the same time, the inhabitants revered them: “People would leave the material city behind to spend a day at the sacred Sufi sites and return by evening”.
After their death, these saints were buried in the very place where they stood, and a mausoleum called “Dargah” was built around their tomb, the size of which varied according to the popularity of the saint.
What Pratyush Shankar does not say is that throughout society, Sufi saints were attributed with considerable powers, even beyond death: many devotees continued to visit the Dargah centuries after the saint’s death to ask him to grant their wishes (whether it be to have a child, to be cured of an illness, or to pass exams). This votive logic, due to its transactional nature, transcends social barriers of all kinds: Hindus, Christians, Sikhs, etc. worship Sufi saints, people from all walks of life, from the elite to the lower castes, rub shoulders at the Dargah and, finally, even in the Holy of Holies, women and men are admitted on an equal footing. But Pratyush Shankar assumes that the reader what I have mentioned above when he concludes:
“The unique contribution of the Deccan cities was perhaps not so much in any extraordinary formation within, but rather in the development of the prominent district of the Sufi saints and the suburbs. Sufi saints were popular amongst the masses and provided the much-needed counterpoint to the state. If the city represented the material world of trade, commerce, and power, the suburban precincts of Sufi tombs were just the opposite; a sacred and spiritual space with frugal infrastructure which is out there in the lap of nature. Over the centuries, this typology took firm root as these complexes of tombs became public places that were frequented by city dwellers like a pilgrimage out of the city, as they often lay just outside the fort walls of the city”.
The word is out: “public space”!
The cities created in the Deccan by Muslim leaders in the 14th century introduced the concept of public space to the Indian world, which had ignored it until then due to the deep cleavages that divided society along lines of religion, caste, and gender. This is a contribution of Islam to India that some would call paradoxical, given that the image of this religion, today, is often dominated by the idea of segregation, even exclusion. But before Islam entered India, such open spaces did not exist in the country.
View of the Feroz Shah Kotla, Delhi, 1830, 1843 (oil on canvas) by Colonel Robert Smith (fl.1880-90). Photo: Wikimedia Commons.
Certainly, ascetics established their ashrams out of cities – like Ramana Maharshi’s cave above Tiruvannamalai – but his followers did not disturb him there, and when they did, they interacted with him on the mode of the guru-shishya parampara, whereas around the Dargah, one would find play grounds as well as picnic sites.
In his book, Pratyush Shankar confines this contribution to the Deccan, but it is tempting to argue that the innovation he points to can be found throughout India. In the north too, Sufi saints settled on the outskirts of cities – did Nizamuddin not choose to live far from Delhi? – and their mausoleums still offer the image of a public space open to all. This is even more striking when the Dargah is still surrounded by greenery, even though it has been incorporated into the city, such as Sarkhej Roza in Ahmedabad or Feroz Shah Kotla in Delhi, where Anand Taneja has clearly shown that people from all walks of life still gather today, as befits a public space!
Christophe Jaffrelot is Senior Research Fellow at CERI-Sciences Po/CNRS, Paris, Professor of Indian Politics and Sociology at King’s College London, Non resident Scholar at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace and Chair of the British Association for South Asian Studies.
source: http://www.thewire.in / The Wire / Home> English> Opinion> Urban / by Christophe Jaffrelot / October 18th, 2025
By recreating a whole world around a group of traders in western India, Chhaya Goswami’s Globalization before Its Time is business history as it should be.
A Dutch trading ship from the late 17th-century. Credit: Wikimedia
The Arabian Sea has a special place in Indian business history. For centuries the cities and settlements on the Arabian Sea littoral traded with each other, exchanging Indian textiles for horse, armaments, pearls and ivory. In turn, some of the textiles were passed on to the Atlantic slave trade in Africa as a medium of exchange, or sent overland to European markets. Coastal merchants indigenous to the region bordering the sea engaged in this business and developed sophisticated systems of banking and shipbuilding to support the mercantile enterprise. The Hindu and Muslim traders of Kachchh were examples of such groups of people.
In the 17th century, the Arabian Sea trade flourished thanks to the control that three powerful empires – the Ottoman in Turkey, the Safavid in Iran and the Mughal in India – exercised on some of the key seaports, and regular transactions amongst them. This was also the time when the European merchant companies established themselves in the Indian Ocean trade, even though the Portuguese had arrived in this world somewhat earlier. In the second half of the eighteenth century, the Mughal empire had almost collapsed and its access to the Arabian Sea ports had long come to an end. Europeans were in the ascendance.
What happened to the indigenous traders and bankers during this period of transition? Two contending stories exist on this question. The first says that they lost ground to the Europeans while their patrons lost political power. The second says that the indigenous traders found partnerships and agency with the Europeans lucrative, and as their fortunes flourished, the Europeans gained in political power. Both stories overstate the Europeans’ commercial prowess and understate the Indians’ capacity to shape the course of history.
Chhaya Goswami’s book is a corrective to such biased histories. It shows that the Kachchhi traders did gain from European trade, and withstood well the decline of empires, but they could do so thanks to their own resources, which included well-developed institutions of commerce and banking, knowledge of the seas, shipping, and shipbuilding, past history of collaborating with political actors, and access to both maritime and overland trading routes.
The book is divided into four chapters, each one of substantial length. Chapter one explores the special characteristics of Kachchh that make it a “land of entrepreneurs”. Chapters two and three describe Kachchhi traders’ activities in Muscat and Zanzibar respectively, and chapter four deals with some of the prominent firms in the maritime trade, and how a few of them extended their operations beyond the southwest Asia region.
Why Kachchh? What is special about the region that it should produce so many merchant groups? The convenient location of the region on a navigable part of the eastern Arabian Sea, as well as the Mandvi port, of course, supplies a part of the answer.
Another part of the answer has to do with politics. The western coastal regions were ruled by small states that depended heavily on income from trade. This dependence was due to the poor agricultural conditions in the region. In turn, these states, though nominally vassals of the Mughals, could exercise a great deal of independence in policy. They used their freedom to create a model of rule where merchants and bankers had a prominent place, not only during warfare, the all-too-common palace intrigues or disasters, but also in normal times. Merchants and bankers helped the business of governance by collecting taxes, revenue farming, making loans, and taking part in administration, whereas the states helped them by offering lucrative contracts and implicitly recognising their laws and practices.
But the political and geographical environment explains little unless we also consider the social and institutional basis of entrepreneurship in the region. The merchant groups in question were ready to establish diaspora networks in port cities around the Arabian Sea. They conducted extensive and complicated financial operations including bill and insurance, and their bills were acceptable to the distant trading points thanks to the diaspora network.
The book shows in interesting detail how Vaishnavite temples and monasteries became effectively banks, clearing houses, and guarantors of reputation. Community law had great force. The merchants had considerable interest in shipbuilding, which in turn encouraged timber trade. In banking, trading, shipbuilding, and navigation, master-apprentice hierarchies were highly developed, showing how much skills were valued and how skills formed.
The book is well-researched and builds on the author’s deep knowledge of vernacular sources and the regional context. It is business history as business history should be, that is, it succeeds in recreating a whole world around a group of traders, and fills an important gap in Indian economic history scholarship.
One wishes, at the same time, that the author had tried to place the Kachchhi traders more firmly in debates on the 18th century economic transition in southern Asia, and attempted some comparative discussion of trading ‘firms’ in Kachchh and elsewhere in the world. Surely the Europeans operated in the same world, with a very different model of a firm. Did the difference matter to institutional and political change? But, perhaps wisely, Goswami’s book steers clear of dry historiography. Instead, it keeps in mind its readers – who will no doubt find the material presented fascinating and the quality of the narrative superb.
Tirthankar Roy is a professor at the London School of Economics and Political Science.
source: http://www.thewire.in / The Wire / Home> English> Books / by Tirthankar Roy / July 04th, 2016
