Category Archives: World Opinion

Victoria’s secret: Karim’s great grandson lives in Bengaluru!

Bengaluru, KARNATAKA :

The family had moved to England at the Queen’s behest, bringing great solace to an increasingly homesick Karim, said Mahmood.

 Javed Mahmood, Abdul Karim’s great grandson
Javed Mahmood, Abdul Karim’s great grandson

It was an April morning in Bengaluru and Javed Mahmood, as was his custom, sat down to flip through the newspapers. The year was 2010, nearly two decades since he had moved to the city to live a quiet retired life. His relatives were scattered between Bengaluru and Karachi, as they had been since Independence. Very little remained of the family’s rich history, much of what they had left was lost in the traumas of Partition and mostly forgotten. That summer morning in 2010, however, everything changed. Mahmood found, to his astonishment, that Indian author Shrabani Basu’s Victoria and Abdul: The True Story of the Queen’s Closest Confidant had uncovered the truth behind his great grandfather Abdul Karim telling a tale of friendship and loyalty. Mahmood talks to Darshana  Ramdev about a family that has been steeped in history since, with his father, Anwar being a founding member of Bata in 1933.

“I rushed at once to the British Council and asked them to help me contact her,” said Mahmood, whose grandfather, Abdul Rashid, was Karim’s adopted son. “We didn’t actually know he was adopted until Karim’s death in 1909 and the inheritance had to be dealt with.” The family had moved to England at the Queen’s behest, bringing great solace to an increasingly homesick Karim. “The Queen made them feel very much at home my grandfather received the same education that Edward VII and the rest of her children had earlier received.” The Queen, who was aware of the couple’s inability to have children, sent her personal physician, Dr. John Reid, to examine (much to his horror) Karim’s wife.

Abdul Karim with his adopted son, Abdul Rashid in England
Abdul Karim with his adopted son, Abdul Rashid in England

“Abdul Karim had been greatly maligned by historians the Queen’s family may have wanted to destroy all trace of his presence in the court. Ms Basu had gained access to hidden archives, however. Our family still had a few documents – the diary being one of them, so Shrabani and I hopped on a plane to Karachi at once!” Karim’s descendants there were understandably wary, but Mahmood succeeded in coaxing them to part with the diary. Like most people of the time, Karim maintained meticulous written records into his life, which helped set the record straight on the stream of allegations that had been made against his character. “The diary proved beyond doubt that their relationship was marked by great affection, but had remained platonic always,” said Mahmood.

Javed Mahmood’s father, Anwar Mahmood, was one of the founding members of Bata in 1933. He started the Trot Shoe Company in 1963, setting up a second factory in Whitefield in 1970.
Javed Mahmood’s father, Anwar Mahmood, was one of the founding members of Bata in 1933. He started the Trot Shoe Company in 1963, setting up a second factory in Whitefield in 1970.

It contained valuable insights into Queen Victoria’s much loved Munshi, or teacher, the prepossessing young man who won the affections of a foreboding monarch with a reputation for a heart of stone. He was presented as an orderly to the Queen, which he didn’t like it was not a fitting position for the son of a landed ‘doctor’.  He soon found himself promoted to Munshi, leading the now ailing Empress to a discovery of India. The Queen’s love for her young munshi drew jealousy, hatred and racial prejudice in a society known for its repressive puritanical leanings. Neither cared, however, with the Queen sticking her neck out on numerous instances to defend her young friend. “She was always caring and appreciative of our customs every Eid, she would walk across the grounds to Karim Cottage (on the Osborne House estate) to visit the family.” They were, in turn, invited up to the palace for tea during Christmas “The Queen would even have the windows covered with silk curtains so Karim’s family could keep the purdah. He was also a wonderful cook  he would cook for her on occasion, as an act of love.”

Little was known of his life after the Queen’s death in 1901: Karim and his family were unceremoniously deported, almost at once, by a jealous Edward VII, who been aroused to such fits of rage that he had even attempted to force his mother to abdicate from office, on grounds of insanity. “Soon after the Queen’s death, King Edward arrived at Karim Cottage in Osborne House and ordered Rashid, who was a teenager at the time, to scour the house for any heirlooms or documents that contained the royal insignia. The little they could salvage, including Karim’s diary, returned with him to Agra in 1901, where he died eight years later. “He died at the age of 48 and the family was given his inheritance,” said Mahmood.

These remained with the family for some decades, until talk of Partition began to do the rounds. “We were a fairly prominent family and were advised at the time to shift temporarily to Bhopal, until the trouble blew over,” said Mahmood. This they did, greatly underestimating the scope of the problem and packing only the essentials. When the Partition took place, the family was evacuated to Mumbai, but many of the treasures were lost in transit. “The diary was with my grandfather, who was the custodian of Karim’s things.” The family moved to Karachi, save for Mahmood’s mother, Begum Qamar Jahan and two sisters. The diary went to Pakistan with them. “One of the sisters eventually shifted to Pakistan too,” he explained.

Meanwhile, in 1933, Bata, which was a burgeoning Czech company, found itself in hot water after the nation was declared Communist. The company decided to set up a factory near Calcutta, where leather was widely available. The large Muslim population in the area was another perk, providing the tannery services they so badly needed. “My father, Anwar Mahmood, was one of the founding members of the company,” he said. He joined the company at the age of 16 and worked there for nearly 30 years before he started his own business, the Trot Shoe Company. The first factory was set up in Kolkata in 1963 and the second in Whitefield, in 1970. “The organised shoe industry didn’t exist in South India and the Karnataka government had offered businesses a number of benefits, which led us here,” said Mahmood. Natural rubber, an important raw material and was grown abundantly in Kerala, making it easily accessible.  “My elder brother managed the factory here, I handled the one in Kolkata and my parents shuttled between the two cities. When my younger brother was ready to start work, we established a third branch in Hosur.” Javed Mahmood and his younger brother still call Bengaluru home.

Mahmood tells his story from San Francisco, where calls have been pouring in from across the world since the release of the film, Victoria and Abdul. “The film is doing very well, it’s being shown at local theatres here as well and friends have been getting in touch to tell me how much they enjoyed it,” he smiles.

“My great grandfather’s relationship with the Queen had been presented as scandalous and sleazy he was falsely accused of every imaginable sin. Ms Basu read Karim’s diary cover-to-cover and brought those insights into the second edition of her book.” And that’s how Abdul Karim’s story received its long overdue re-telling, well over a 100 years after his death in 1909. “Queen Victoria was a woman far ahead of her times, rising well above the prejudices that so plagued her society, to defend the young Indian man she called a friend. I think there’s a lesson in it for all of us even today.”

source: http://www.deccanchronicle.com / Deccan Chronicle / Home> Nation – In Other News / by Darshana Ramdev, Deccan Chronicle / October 14th, 2017

Mumbaiwale: Four local Islamic landmarks to check out – each with its own colourful history

Mumbai, MAHARASHTRA :

An adult cinema turned mosque, a Muslim home turned film museum, a gorgeous blue masjid & a dargah cops love.

The one that now houses a film museum

National Museum of Indian Cinema, Pedder Road

On Pedder Road, one Muslim-owned mansion has been converted in a someday-to-be-opened museum for the movies. Gulshan Abad, the Victorian-Gothic villa, was built in the mid-1800s (a time when the main entrance itself offered a view of the Arabian sea) and was home to the Gujarati businessman Peerbhoy Khalakdina. The five-acre estate was eventually inherited by a relative Cassamally Jairazbhoy, whose third wife, Khurshid Rajabally, hosted cultural gatherings at the home in the 1920s.

Rajabally’s filming of a Haj pilgrimage makes her one of India’s earliest documentary filmmakers. Her son Nazir Ali made documentaries about Indian classical and folk music.

The home served as a hospital for WWII soldiers and in 1949 was briefly rented out to Jai Hind College before the institution found a permanent campus in Churchgate in 1952. But in 1950, the government confiscated the estate, declaring it an evacuee property after Partition.

The home, now restored, holds artefacts from India’s rich cinematic history. Alas, the launch has been tied up in bureaucratic red tape, and you can only get as far as the entrance.

The one that used to be an adult movie theatre

Deeniyat centre, Mumbai Central

The Deeniyat educational and charitable trust couldn’t be more wholesome. It aims to educate children, men and women in basic Islamic tenets and moral teachings related to the Koran and Sunnah. But the institution and mosque are housed in a building that once screened films of less salubrious taste.

In 1914, Ardeshir Irani and Abdulally Esoofally, both instrumental businessmen in early Indian cinema, bought a theatre near Nagpada junction on Bellasis Road. By 1918, they’d named it Alexandra Cinema and converted it into a movie hall, screening films from India and abroad. The single-screen movie hall screened films through the decades – silent films, new talkies, Technicolor hits, epics, Amitabh’s angry-young-man phase and blockbusters. But by the 80s, it was largely where you’d go to watch a B-grade or adult film.

In 2011, a developer bought the 15,000sqft property, turning it over to the non-profit. Deeniyat has spruced up the interiors, and even added a mosque inside. But the exterior – tiled roofs, wraparound verandahs – stays largely the same.

The one where the cops go to worship

Hazrat Makhdum Fakih Ali Mahimi dargah, Mahim

The scholar-saint who lived between 1372 and 1431, was the first commentator of the Koran in India. His books have focus on the philosophy of time and space. He was the Qazi or judge for the Muslims of Thana district.

But what makes him the patron saint of the Mumbai Police? Because he lived at a time when the Portuguese had possession of Salsette, the islands north of Mahim. A Portuguese sergeant would seek his advice and help on many cases. Many also believe that the site at which the Mahim police station stands is said to have been the saint’s home.

Until today, during the annual urs or fair held in his honour, it’s the policemen who lay the first ornamental sheet over his tomb at the dargah. On the urs days, devotees can also walk into the police station premises to pay their respects.

The blue one that catches the moonlight

Masjid-E-Iranian, Dongri

I first saw what is locally called the Mughal Masjid on a local-history tour of Bhendi Bazaar back in 2005 (Yes, I was a nerd before it was fashionable). I was lucky. It was a cool full-moon night and the blue tiles seemed to glow in the dark. For a minute, this tiny corner of Mumbai seemed like Morocco.

The mosque is 158 years old, built by a wealthy Iranian merchant, Haji Mohammad Hussain Shirazi, in 1860 and is maintained by a trust set up by his descendants. It has no dome, but two minarets, and a mosaic of blue tiles of every hue and pattern.

Inside, if you do get permission to enter is a lawn, a pond, a fountain, crystal chandeliers in the inner sanctum and Koran verses inscribed on the walls.

source: http://www.hindustantimes.com / Hindustan Times / Home> Mumbai / by Rachel Lopes, Hindustan Times / October 05th, 2018

Jemadar Abdul Hafiz VC ( Victoria Cross)

Kalanaur (Gurudaspur District),  PUNJAB / (buried in Imphal, MANIPAL) :

Jemadar Abdul Hafiz VC
Jemadar Abdul Hafiz VC

Abdul Hafiz was born in Kalanaur Village in Punjab, India. His father name was Nur Muhammad and mother was Hamidan. He was married to Jigri Begum.

Jemadar Abdul Hafiz of 3/9 Jat won the Victoria Cross- the first Muslim soldier to do so in the Second World War ( Imphal, 1962). He won the VC in a feature named “Runaway Hill” which is located at the corner of the road leading to Isingthembi on the Pangei- Sagolmang Road (see map).

“He served with the 9th Jat Regiment with service number 11460. Jats are an ethnic group who follow a variety of religions. The Jat battalions were structured around two companies of Hindu Jats, one company of Punjabi Muslims and one company of Musulman Rajputs, a mix requiring not only good purely military leadership to ensure the respect of all but sensitivity for different cultures and beliefs”. (CWGC)

The 3rd Battalion, 9th Jat Regiment, was part of the 5th Indian Division during the Imphal campaign and at the time of this action were operating in the Nungshigum area to the north east of Imphal as part of a force advancing up the Litan road which was of strategic importance to both sides as it offered one of the few approaches to the Imphal plain. The attacks in and around Nungshigum Hill, of which Abdul Hafiz’s was one, continued until 13th April 1944 when the hill was finally captured.

Flag in the map showing the RUNAWAY HILL
Flag in the map showing the RUNAWAY HILL

According to War Diary dated 6th April 1944, 3rd battalion, 9th Jat Regiment,
” D Coys standing patrol the high ground at RK 420790 was driven offduring the night by thr enemy. At approx. 0930 hrs. D Coy counter attacked the enemy from the high ground killing at least 45-50 Japs and capturing a great deal of equipment. Our losses were 4 killed and 12 wounded including Major RITCHIE M.C. wounded. 1 Pl. B Coy supported by 1 tp of “HONEYS” did a sweep at approx 0900 hrs to the village ISINGTHEMBI RK 410800 where enemy had been reported- N.E.S.. 1 Pl. B Coy and the GR Pl at 1630 hrs ordered to NUNSHIGUM RK 4375 to take up a defensive posn”.

“It was by Runaway Hill that the Division’s third Victoria Cross was won. Before dawn on April 6, during this original encircling movement, at a time when we could not be sure when they would appear next, the Japanese attacked one of Colonel Gerty’s standing patrols. By driving the Jats off, they secured a hillock that overlooked the main company position. Jemadar Abdul. Hafiz was ordered to recapture the hill with two sections of his platoon.

After an artillery bombardment by Bastin’s 4th Field Regiment, Abdul Hafiz led his Jats in to the attack. They charged up the hillside that was bare of cover, shouting their war-cry as they neared the top. Then the waiting Japanese opened fire with machine-guns. On the approaching Jats they threw down grenades. Jemadar Abdul Hafiz was wounded at the outset. A bullet struck him in the leg. Yet he dashed forward and seized the enemy machine-gun by the barrel, while another Jat killed the Japanese gunner.

The Jemadar then took up a Bren gun dropped by one of his men who had fallen wounded, and notwithstanding the heavy fire from the enemy positions on this hill and on a feature to the flank, he shot a number of the Japanese soldiers. And so fiercely did he lead his men that the enemy ran away: hence the name Runaway Hill. But Jemadar Abdul Hafiz was mortally wounded in the chest, still grasping his Bren gun. To his men he shouted in his own language, “Reorganize! I will give you covering fire.” But he died,. without having been able to pull the trigger. He was awarded the Victoria Cross, posthumously, and was the first Muslim soldier to win this decoration in the Second World War” ( Ball of Fire – Antony Brett-James 1951) .

Geoffrey Evans and Antony Brett-James in their book “Imphal” give the account of how the feature got its name of Runaway Hill . ” Undaunted, Abdul Hafiz rushed forward as best he could and with supreme bravery seized the barrel of the machine gun while a second Jat Killed the gunner. That done, he saw a bren automatic which had been dropped by one of his wounded men, and picking it up without hesitation, he opened fire on the enemy to such effect that those whom he did not kill ran away as fast as they could. For this reason the hill became known as ‘Runaway Hill’, a name which it retained throughout the battle”.

Grave of Jemadar Abdul Hafiz VC
Grave of Jemadar Abdul Hafiz VC

His citation reads as follow:

The KING has been graciously pleased to approve the posthumous award of the VICTORIA CROSS to:–Jemadar Abdul Hafiz (11460), 9th. Jat Regiment, Indian Army.

In Burma, in the early hours of the 6th April, 1944, in the hills 10 miles North of Imphal, the enemy had attacked a standing patrol of 4 men and occupied a prominent feature overlooking a Company position. At first light a patrol was sent out and contacted the enemy, reporting that they thought approximately 40 enemy were in position. It was not known if they had dug in during the hours of darkness.

The Company Commander ordered Jemadar Abdul Hafiz to attack the enemy, with two sections from his platoon, at 0930 hours. An artillery concentration was put down on the feature and Jemadar Abdul Hafiz Khan led the attack. The attack was up a completely bare slope with no cover, and was very steep near the crest. Prior to the attack, Jemadar Abdul Hafiz assembled his sections and told them that they were invincible, and all the enemy on the hill would be killed or put to flight. He so inspired his men that from the start the attack proceeded with great dash.

When a few yards below the crest the enemy opened fire with machine-guns and threw grenades. Jemadar Abdul Hafiz sustained several casualties, but immediatetly ordered an assault, which he personally led, at the same time shouting the Mohammedan battle-cry. The assault went in without hesitation and with great dash up the last few yards of the hill, which was very steep. On reaching the crest Jemadar Abdul Hafiz was wounded in the leg, but seeing a machine-gun firing from a flank, which had already caused several casualties, he immediately went towards it and seizing the barrel pushed it upwards, whilst another man killed the gunner.

Jemadar Abdul Hafiz then took a Bren gun from a wounded man and advanced against the enemy, firing as he advanced, and killing several of the enemy. So fierce was the attack, and all his men so inspired by the determination of Jemadar Abdul Hafiz to kill all enemy in sight at whatever cost, that the enemy, who were still in considerable numbers on the position, ran away down the opposite slope of the hill. Regardless of machine-gun fire which was now being fired at him from another feature a few hundred yards away, he pursued the enemy, firing at them as they retired.

Jemadar Abdul Hafiz was badly wounded in the chest from this machine-gun fire and collapsed holding the Bren gun and attempting to fire at the retreating enemy, and shouting at the same time “Re-organise on the position and I will give covering fire.” He died shortly afterwards.

The inspiring leadership and great bravery displayed by Jemadar Abdul Hafiz in spite of having been twice wounded, once mortally, so encouraged his men that the position was captured, casualties inflicted on the enemy to an extent several times the size of his own party, and enemy arms recovered on the position which included 3 Lewis Machine-guns, 2 grenade dischargers and 2 officers’ swords. The complete disregard for his own safety and his determination to capture and hold the position at all costs was an example to all ranks, which it would be difficult to equal.—( London Gazette. Issue 36627, 25th July 1944 ).

The Victoria Cross and Campaign medals awarded to Jemadar Abdul Hafiz, 3rd Bn, 9th Jat Regiment, Indian Army, have been acquired by the Michael Ashcroft Trust, the holding institution for Lord Ashcroft’s VC Collection.

Abdul Hafiz is today laid buried at Imphal Indian War Cemetery at Hatta Minuthong, Imphal. His Grave number is 3. Q. 2. He was 25 years of age when he died on 6th April 1944

source: http://www.e-pao.net / E-Pao / Home> Manipur> History of Manipur> Historical War Manipur / by Rajeshwor Yumnam / May 18th, 2015

Mosques in Dravidian-Islamic style: About the Islamic architecture in Tamil Nadu

TAMIL NADU :

The 17th Century Kilakarai Jumma Mosque
The 17th Century Kilakarai Jumma Mosque

The kallupallis are reminders of the region’s cultural and architectural traditions

Among the many inscriptions at the Vaishnavite shrine of Adhi Jagannatha Swamy at Thirupullani, about 10 km from Ramanathapuram in southern Tamil Nadu, there is one about a grant for a mosque. This particular inscription of the late 13th Century by the Pandya King Thirubuvana Chakravarthy Koneri Mei Kondan, describes the grant made to the Muslim Sonagar, to build a mosque at Pavithramanikka Pattinam. While no one today has a clue as to the exact location of Pavithramanikka Pattinam, the region has many ancient mosques like the rest of Tamil Nadu. What is unique about these mosques is that they were all built of stone, in the Dravidian architectural style with Islamic sensibilities.

Unlike north India, Islam came to the south through maritime spice trade even as it was spreading across Arabia in the 7th Century. The Muslims who were traders enriched the country with precious foreign exchange, and hence were accorded a special place by the Tamil rulers of the day, and often received grants to build mosques, like the one at the Adhi Jagannatha Swamy temple.

As mosques are called Palli Vaasal in Tamil, and they were built of kal, the Tamil word for stone, they came to be locally known as kallupallis. These kallupalliswere essentially built more like mandapams, better suited to Islamic requirement for the congregation to assemble and stand together in prayer.

Engraving of Tamil calendar for prayer found inside the mosque
Engraving of Tamil calendar for prayer found inside the mosque

With guidelines for the construction of mosques being simple – such as prayer facing Mecca, no idol worship and clean surroundings, the masons who worked on these mosques under the supervision of religious heads restricted themselves to carving floral and geometrical motifs instead of human figures as in a temple. “While the raised ‘Adisthana’ of the Hindu temple was retained, there were no ‘Garbha Grahas’ and no figurines carved on any of the pillars” says Dr.Raja Mohammad, author of Islamic Architecture in Tamil Nadu.

For more than a millennium, hundreds of such mosques built in the Dravidian Islamic architectural style came up across Tamil Nadu, often with the help of grants from the rulers of the day, ranging from the Cheras, the Pandyas, the Venad kings and the Nayaks to the Sethupathis of Ramanathapuram. Across Tamil Nadu, wherever Tamil Muslims lived in large numbers, from Pulicat near Chennai to Kilakarai, Kayalpatnam, Kadayanallur, Kottar, Tiruvithancode, Madurai, etc., one finds these beautiful kallupallis.

Amongst these kallupallis, though not the oldest, the most beautiful mosque is to be found at Kilakarai, near Ramanathapuram. A medieval port town with a predominant Tamil Muslim population, Kilakarai has many mosques built during different eras spanning many centuries. The one built towards the end of 17th Century is the most beautiful of them all. It is believed to have been built by the great merchant and philanthropist Periathambi Marakkayar, also known as Seethakkathi, whom the Dutch records speak of as a great trader having considerable influence with the Sethupathis, the then rulers of Ramanathapuram.

The mosque built in the Dravidian architectural style of the late Vijayanagara period, has elements that are specific to native traditions. Like many other kallupallis, this mosque too has Podhigai, the floral bud detailing on the pillar corbels, which represent positivity and auspiciousness, an essential part of the cultural beliefs of the land. An interesting engraving found in this mosque is the Tamil calendar for prayer.

What is unusual about this calendar is that, timings for prayers in the various Tamil months are marked in Tamil numerals, a rarity, found in just a few other mosques in southern Tamil Nadu.

These mosques, deeply embedded in the Tamil culture, were also places where Tamil flowered. Further down south, at the Kottar mosque in Nagercoil, an early Tamil Islamic literary work, Mikuraasu Malai, was presented to the assembled congregation by Aali Pulavar in the late 16th Century.

Mikuraasu Malai, a palm leaf work
Mikuraasu Malai, a palm leaf work

Mikuraasu is a Tamilised form of Mihraj, and narrates a significant event in the life of Prophet Muhammad (Pbuh), his ascension to the heaven. Even after 400 odd years, the tradition of singing Mikurasu Malai on the eve of Mihraj continues to this day at the Kottar mosque. Other literary works such as Seera Puranam, a Tamil epic on the history of the Prophet, are also recited across mosques in Tamil Nadu.

The Kallupallis in Tamil Nadu stand as proud reminders of not just an architectural tradition but also of cultural traditions, where Islam effortlessly adapted itself to the native customs.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> History & Culture – Anwar’s Trail / by Kombai S. Anwar / November 23rd, 2017

The walls have years

Kutch, GUJARAT :

Kalubhai Vaghela in his ancestral house in Mundra. Photo: Vijay Soneji
Kalubhai Vaghela in his ancestral house in Mundra. Photo: Vijay Soneji

In 18th century Kutch, walls were painted with stories. They survive today in only three places

On the fissured walls of the magnificent Tera fort in Gujarat’s Kutch district the story of the Ramayana springs to life in vivid colour: there is Sita on a pyre, Ram raining arrows on Ravana.

Kamangari bhint chitro or wall paintings was once a thriving art form in Kutch, used to embellish the palaces and homes of the affluent. The themes were as diverse as the patron’s tastes, but were predominantly mythological, with scenes from the Ramayana or Krishna Leela. Royal processions was another favourite. The landscape was another rich source of material, and date palms and peacocks and scenes from everyday life were common.

Kamanagiri01MPOs04oct2018

Today, only bits and pieces of this rich art are preserved in a few homes, temples, and on Tera fort. But if you were to string these together chronologically, history would come alive in a lyrical manner.

Back to its origin

Kamangari art originated in the 18th century. “It was a relatively peaceful time; there were no battles, and it was a conducive environment for travel and trade,” says Pradip Zaveri, a Vadodara-based businessman, known for documenting Kamangari. During this time, the Kamangars, a Muslim community from northern Kutch who traditionally made bows and arrows (kaman means bow) and painted shields, travelled to the rest of the region.

Soon the affluent Bhatia and Jain communities commissioned the Kamangars to paint their homes, giving birth to the art form. Such artistic embellishment on walls was traditionally seen as auspicious in Kutch.

A folk art

One of the finest examples of Kamangari art is in Aina Mahal, an 18th century palace in Bhuj. Here, the corridor is painted with a 47 feet scroll titled Nagpanchami Ashwari, by Kamangar artist Juma Ebrahim. The scroll begins with a royal procession with a mounted Arab cavalier, Arab soldiers, a cannon drawn by a pair of bullocks, a chariot of the family deity, and a group of camel riders. In the middle of the scroll is Maharao Shri Pragmalji II on a caparisoned elephant. The ethnicity of every individual is represented by their costume.

The paintbrushes were made from the bark of the local date palm, and the colours sourced from tree bark, flowers and stones. The artists would paint on wet plaster to ensure permanence.

For all its beauty, says Zaveri, Kamangari does not appear to have a consistent style. “If you look at two paintings, you will see the difference in the treatment and rendering. For example, the lines on wall paintings are thicker than those in the scrolls. In some places, flowers are used to fill gaps — like in a temple in Anjar — but in other places this is missing.”

Kamangari artwork at MacMurdo’s bungalow in Anjar. Photo: Vijay Soneji
Kamangari artwork at MacMurdo’s bungalow in Anjar. Photo: Vijay Soneji

Artists essentially followed their patron’s instructions. As the rich traders who commissioned this art travelled abroad, the art saw changes too. “The artists were given postcards from these places, and they would then draw characters inspired from the West but wearing a Kutchi pagdi, or the women would have long skirts,” Zaveri says.

In a Jain temple in the Abdasa taluka of Kutch, a man is shown wearing a hat but in a dhoti and long coat. Some later paintings depict British soldiers in uniform. Others have aeroplanes, rail engines, and even a game of cricket.

MacMurdo’s bungalow in Anjar. Photo: Vijay Soneji
MacMurdo’s bungalow in Anjar. Photo: Vijay Soneji

At the bungalow of James MacMurdo in Anjar, the first political resident of the East Indian Company in Kutch, you can see Krishna and the Gopis dressed in the traditional attire of the Rabari community, complete with the nath (nose-ring). Much of the work also showed influences of the Mughal and Rajasthani styles.

The decline

According to Zaveri, Kamangari was popular until the early 20th century. Then, around the time of the Great Depression, its patrons began to migrate out of Kutch, and homes were locked up or abandoned. The murals degenerated and new occupants painted over them. The Kamangari artists turned to other livelihoods.

“The 2001 Kutch earthquake dealt another severe blow; many houses that had the last few paintings came down,” says Zaveri. Now there are only three places in Kutch with well-preserved Kamangari — the fort in Tera, MacMurdo’s bungalow in Anjar, and an ancestral home in Mundra, belonging to Kalubhai Vaghela.

There have been some feeble attempts by the government to revive the art, but more promising is a new project. Dalpat Danidharia, a librarian at Bhuj’s Prag Mahal, a 19th century palace, says: “Some of us who are passionate about saving Kamangari from disappearing from public memory are working on commissioning artists to create replicas.” The aim, he says, is to let everyone experience this vibrant Kutchi heritage before it’s lost forever.

When not researching new stories, the Gujarat-based freelance journalist likes spinning tales for her toddler.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> History & Culture / by Azera Parveen Rahman / September 29th, 2018

Revisiting Sheikh Salim Chisti’s tomb

Fatehpur Sikri (Agra District), UTTAR PRADESH :

Soothing experience: Sheikh Salim Chisti’s tomb in Fatehpur Sikri | Photo Credit: V_V_Krishnan
Soothing experience: Sheikh Salim Chisti’s tomb in Fatehpur Sikri | Photo Credit: V_V_Krishnan

Reminiscing a slow but stimulating journey to Akbar’s capital city

When Marion and Sally, two English teachers of St Thomas’ School, Mandir Marg, set out on a trip to Fatehpur Sikri in 1978, they boarded the last train from Delhi. “It sounds ominous, like the last plane from Da Nang, when South Vietnam was overrun by the Viet Minh,” remarked Sally, “Yes,” recalled Marion. “Many struggled to board the plane. Some were left behind but in the melee an enterprising Western reporter was not only able to capture the heart-wrenching scene, but also played the hero by helping a hysterical woman and her kid take his seat on the plane as he jumped down to shoot what later turned out to be award-winning pictures of the airport scramble.”

The last train from Old Delhi station did not cause any such frenzied commotion. Over 40 years ago it was the one that was supposed to leave just before midnight, but the departure was invariably delayed. From Delhi Main station it ran up to Agra Cantt, its destination, and took seven hours to do so, usually even more. The passenger train had a whole lot of policemen travelling in it. As a matter of fact, right from the ticket window they made their presence felt when they pulled suspicious-looking youths out of the queue and slapped and punched them before asking questions like, “Where are you going? Where did you get the money to buy the ticket? Are you drunk? Who else is travelling along with you? Where do you live?” before searching them with their shirts off and pants down,” the two teachers recalled.

A view of Hiran Minar
A view of Hiran Minar

When they caught the train they didn’t see those young men again. The train made three false starts, provoking someone to remark that the driver was shaking the compartments to fit in more passengers. Finally it started rolling, with several urchins rushing to catch it. By the time the train reached New Delhi station it was nearly 1 a.m. After that the Passenger stopped at every station big or small and as people got down, many were detained and searched by policemen on the platform. But the two girls reached Agra Cantt station safely. From there they were escorted by friends Sam, Lewis and this scribe by car to Sikri.

The shrine at Fatehpur Sikri is one of the most venerated places. Where wild animals once roamed a gem of a monument now greets the eye,” disclosed Sam. “It was here on a hill that Sheikh Salim Chisti dwelt and thither came Akbar the Great to seek his help for the birth of a son and heir apparent. He came on foot, leaving his camels, elephants and horses behind. The hermit sat with a rosary (tasbi) reciting the 99 names of Allah. The emperor’s prayers were heard and his Rajput queen bore a son, Salim, whom Akbar always called Sheikhu Baba, after the saint. Not only that, he built this magnificent city to commemorate the event and dwelt here with his Nine Jewels, like the Nine Worthies of the ancient world. “I have heard about the Nine Jewels,” said Marion, “but who were the Nine Worthies?” “Hector, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Joshua, David, Judas Maccabaeus, King Arthur, Charlemagne and Godfrey of Bouillon,” replied Sam without batting an eyelid.

Akbar’s legacy

Sam related his tale standing by Sally’s side. She listened, her doe eyes thoughtful. As they approached the trellis of the shrine where people who seek favours tie a thread, she tied one too, making Sam wonder what she had sought. They next went to the Buland Darwaza and saw the town of Sikri spread out before them. Nearby is the water works set up by Akbar and from above the ramparts a man dived 80 feet into the baoli or step-well. They looked aghast. “Just you wait and see,” said Sam as Lewis nodded in approval. Soon a dare-devil emerged and salaam-ed them. They tipped him and he walked away to prepare for another demonstration. “These divers have been continuing the tradition for several centuries. VIPs and common people alike tip them. Perhaps, it will continue so long as there is water in the baoli. But it is a paradox that Akbar, who built a new capital here, had to desert it because of water scarcity.” Sam informed the party. They went down the steps of Buland Darwaza, Sam pointing out the Hiran Minar from where the shikar was shot in Mughal times, though some think that Akbar’s famous elephant was buried there and perhaps that’s why it is also called Elephant Tower.

At Sikri town they had the fabulous 24-layer Mughalia parantha. “Why is this parantha so thick?” enquired Marion. “It could feed one whole family.” “Quite right,” said Sam. “Ask Sally, when we were last here she had to take half the parantha to Delhi where we had it for breakfast the next day and the remainder for lunch.”

“Did Akbar really play with women as chess pieces? “enquired Sally.” Off course he did,” replied Sam. “Don’t talk rubbish. Listening to you one would imagine the great Akbar had nothing else to do but seduce maids of honour”, admonished Lewis. From there the party went to the Taj Mahal and then caught the Taj Express back to Delhi after a memorable day. Marion and Sally are now back in England and Sam works in Bangalore, where Lewis keeps reminding him of the visit whenever he rings up from Kolkata.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> History & Culture – Down Memory Lane / by R.V. Smith / October 01st, 2018

Habil Khorakiwala and the power of calm

Mumbai, MAHARASHTRA :

Wockhardt’s Habil Khorakiwala has looked crisis in the eye, and come out of it stronger

Image: Joshua Navalkar / Habil Khorakiwala, founder chairman, Wockhardt. His tenacity and calm helped the pharmaceutical company tide over recent crises
Image: Joshua Navalkar /
Habil Khorakiwala, founder chairman, Wockhardt. His tenacity and calm helped the pharmaceutical company tide over recent crises

“In your darkest hour you have two options: One, you get overwhelmed by the massive extent of the problem and it paralyses you from any action; the other, you anticipate the worst case scenario and deal with it the best way you can. I choose the latter.” This choice—to fight back and swim against all odds—has brought Dr Habil Khorakiwala, 73, back from the brink. Twice.

The first time was in 2008. Wockhardt was incorporated in 1967 and had done well for itself, growing steadily into one of India’s leading pharmaceutical companies. But, during the heady days of the stock market boom of the mid-noughties, it had bet heavily on foreign exchange and derivatives. The global financial meltdown caught many—including Khorakiwala—unawares: Cross-country derivative deals unravelled and Wockhardt declared a loss of Rs 1,000 crore in FY10. The company experienced near bankruptcy and speculation was rife that it will be sold out.

Enough to rattle the toughest businessman, perhaps. But not Khorakiwala: “I anticipate the worst possible outcome and see if I can live with it. This frees me up to take action.” When he realised that it was indeed a worst-case scenario, he “moved to the next step in figuring out how to reduce the impact, and steps needed for it,” he tells Forbes India.

He had to deal with more than 20 different banks and master the complex world of derivatives. He began by acquiring the knowledge he needed, legal and financial, to deal with the ailment; he read books and consulted experts across the globe, then armed with better understanding, he worked assiduously to resuscitate the company.

He went in for a CDR (Corporate Debt Restructuring) exercise, and made two major divestments: The profitable nutrition business (brands such as Farex and Protinex) to dairy giant Danone for about Rs 1,280 crore, almost 25 times Ebitda; and the veterinary pharmaceuticals business to a French company, Vetoquinol (the price was not disclosed). These funds helped him reduce debt substantially.

Also, at this time, the Wockhardt Hospitals venture that he had built with his own money (it is not connected to the listed pharmaceutical entity) had begun unravelling. Debt had piled up due to borrowings-led scaling up and expansion across India. Khorakiwala decided to swallow another bitter pill: In August 2009, he sold 10 of the most profitable hospitals—from the 17 in the chain at that time—in cities like Delhi and Bengaluru, to Fortis Healthcare. Khorakiwala is phlegmatic about this phase: “It is not a mental or emotional barrier for me to hold on to [companies].”

HabilKhorakiwala03MPOs04oct2018

What worked in his favour was that their pharmaceuticals were doing well. This helped him convince his creditors and Wockhardt’s dealers and distributors to not give up on the company. The family also communicated with employees during the crisis. All of which helped stem attrition at the top as well as keep the core business largely unaffected.

Habil’s son, Dr Murtaza Khorakiwala, 43, who is managing director of the pharmaceutical business sums it up: “What the company was facing was a financial issue, not a business issue, and financial issues are transient.”

There wasn’t much time to enjoy the fruits of these labours, however. In 2013, two of Wockhardt’s drug manufacturing facilities in Aurangabad, Maharashtra were the subject of import alerts from both the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and the UK’s Medicines and Healthcare Products Regulatory Agency (UKMHRA). Naturally exports, 80 percent of Wockhardt’s Rs 5,721 crore revenue in FY13 (half of which came from exports to US), took a large hit, falling to Rs 4,830 crore in FY14.

Wockhardt took corrective steps immediately, improving technology and raising quality standards across all its manufacturing facilities in India and abroad (Ireland, UK, USA). The UKMHRA has now eased restrictions on one of the plants, while the US FDA has re-inspected the facilities.

A side-effect of the export crisis was that the Khorakiwalas and the management team paid more attention to building the India business, which has, over the last two years, grown at a compounded annual growth rate (CAGR) of more than 30 percent.

The cumulative effect of both crises and the way the company reacted to them has made it a leaner, healthier enterprise. Murtaza Khorakiwala says that they have focussed more on operational efficiencies to do “more and more with less and less”. Optimisation drives in all plants and offices helped reduce operating costs: Every line item was carefully looked into, staff across all departments rallied to cut any wasteful expenditure they came across. People cost, as a percentage of sales, came down from 15 percent to about 11 percent over the last three years.

Image: Joshua Navalkar / Wockhardt Foundation head Huzaifa Khorakiwala (left), Zahabiya Khorakiwala (centre) who runs Wockhardt Hospitals and Murtaza Khorakiwala who handles the pharmaceutical business at Wockhardt
Image: Joshua Navalkar /
Wockhardt Foundation head Huzaifa Khorakiwala (left), Zahabiya Khorakiwala (centre) who runs Wockhardt Hospitals and Murtaza Khorakiwala who handles the pharmaceutical business at Wockhardt

One spend hasn’t been cut, however: R&D. Khorakiwala launched Wockhardt’s drug discovery programmes 15 years ago, and budgets have never been cut even during the company’s toughest financial years, because, he says, “I always believe it’s a long-term gain. Never sacrifice any part of the future to save the present.”

No action, he says, is trouble-free; even inaction has a cost. “Running a business will lead to problems. Don’t run away from it. Have discipline and work at it.”

The tenacity and calm in times of crisis are traits that define him. This is also what his colleagues and friends often single out about him. And these qualities have inspired, and rubbed off on, the next generation.

Daughter Zahabiya Khorakiwala (33), who is managing director of Wockhardt Hospitals, says her father remained as cool as a cucumber throughout the troubled years: “He is a fighter and will never resign [himself] to any situation because he firmly believes that every problem has a solution.”

Mentored by her father, Zahabiya has opened two new hospitals (to add to the seven left after the sale to Fortis), and taken revenues from Rs 180 crore in FY10 to Rs 350 crore in FY15. With the most recent launch, a hospital in South Mumbai, she personally looked into every detail, from the dozens of permissions required to run a 300-bed hospital to recruiting the surgeons, doctors and specialists. She follows the principles that her father espouses; with hospitals, he says, financial success is secondary, “Establishing a benchmark in clinical care is more important.”

For the Khorakiwalas, a business family, social responsibility is deeply ingrained. They owned Akbarallys, which was originally India’s first true department store. Habil’s father, Fakhruddin Khorakiwala, had bought Worli Chemical Works (which was later renamed Wockhardt)as part of a backward integration plan for the pharmacy in Akbarallys. A busy man, Fakhruddin Khorakiwala made time to serve as Sheriff of what was then Bombay. Habil Khorakiwala made CSR activities a regular part of his agenda, and in 2008, he merged all those activities into a formal entity, the Wockhardt Foundation. This was partly prompted by his eldest son, Dr Huzaifa Khorakiwala (44).

An MBA from Yale, Huzaifa had worked with Wockhardt’s international operations in the US and later the UK, before returning to India to work alongside his father in India, handling the veterinary pharmaceuticals business which was sold in 2008. Always spiritual, he had read many religious books and developed a desire for care-giving. “My son walked up to me in 2008 and said, ‘I want to focus on the Foundation work, and don’t mind spending more time on it.’ I said, ‘go ahead and do it.’” Huzaifa became CEO and trustee of Wockhardt Foundation.

The foundation raises its funds not just from Wockhardt, but also from other organisations seeking to conduct professionally-run CSR activities. It employs 300 people and runs a number of activities. Its 60 mobile medical vans—fitted with the latest equipment, stocked with necessary medicines and staffed by experienced doctors—provide healthcare in remote villages and areas in ten Indian states; corporations can sponsor these vans in return for branding, and they get regular reports on the operations and number of people it has helped. It has also built 1,000 clean toilets in villages, started 25 toy libraries to encourage children to read and absorb good values (an initiative spearheaded by Huzaifa’s wife Samina), and has started an e-learning project to cover 200 schools in Thane, Aurangabad and Rajasthan. From a Rs 1.8 crore corpus in 2008, the foundation has raised Rs 70 crore as of FY15. Huzaifa plans to ramp up activities over the next three years; he wants to expand to 300 mobile medical vans and build 3,000 toilets.

The senior Khorakiwala has good reason to look back on the last few years with a wry smile. In 2012, he was the biggest gainer in the Forbes India Rich List, adding $1.17 billion to his net worth and moving up 47 places in the rankings. The problems with the US and UK pharma regulators later that year saw Wockhardt’s share prices plummet, as did his position on the Rich List: He lost $1.09 billion and dropped 56 places.

Today, he has triumphed against adversity, and come back stronger. His children have come into their own and are growing the family business, in their own ways. He has created value for both his shareholders and the community.

And there’s the little matter of his personal wealth. Wockhardt share prices have surged, and the 74.39 percent promoter and promoter group stake has resulted in a considerably heavier bank balance: His personal wealth went up by $580 million, placing him at 59 in the 2015 Forbes India Rich List. As he likes to say, “If you do the right thing, it will lead to good business.”

(This story appears in the 29 October, 2015 issue of Forbes India. You can buy our tablet version from Magzter.com . To visit our Archives, click here.)

source: http://www.forbesindia.com / Forbes India / Home> Lists> India Rich List 2015 / by Deepak Ajwani / November 27th, 2015

Umpiring standards have to improve: Saba Karim

Patna, BIHAR / Mumbai, MAHARASHTRA :

Saba Karim. | Photo Credit: Vivek Bendre
Saba Karim. | Photo Credit: Vivek Bendre

Says the BCCI’s aim is to have more umpires in the ICC Elite panel

It’s been almost three months since Saba Karim, the former India wicket-keeper-batsman, took over as the BCCI’s general manager – cricket operations.

One of the biggest challenges he has is to ensure umpiring standards, especially in domestic cricket, improve. At a time when the BCCI is being forced to re-conduct umpiring examinations due to goof-ups of the operations department last year, Karim opens up in a chat with The Hindu.

Excerpts:

Despite the umpires academy in place for over a decade now, the quality of Indian umpires continues to be questionable. Is it time to have a re-look?

We are doing that. We do have our regular training workshops. In the end, we need hard-working professionals to come into this field. We are trying to put in some stringent and transparent measures so that the best candidates come out of it. That is why we may redesign our Level 1 and Level 2 examinations so that we get the possible candidates. That’s in the pipeline. Very soon you will hear from us.

Starting with the just-concluded season, 23 of the 40 domestic umpires are supposed to retire in three seasons. How do you plan to maintain — if not raise — the standards in domestic cricket?

It’s not about maintaining. It’s about evolving. We have to raise our standards. That is one point that we will discuss with our umpires during the workshop. Umpiring standards have to go up.

That is how we can have more footprints at the international level. The BCCI’s aim is to have more umpires in the ICC Elite panel. Right now we have five (four international, one Elite) and we do have some very good young umpires coming through.

The reports from the exchange programmes with ECB and CSA have been wonderful. Last year, some of our umpires did fairly well in IPL. Going forward, that is what we want to do, to have more and more umpires at the international level.

We need to have a solid education pathway for them, need to update them all the time, there has to be upgradation and faculty development all the time and then the exams that we conduct have to be transparent.

Will involving more former players as umpires help?

We are open to that, but they have to go through the entire process. It is quite similar to coaching. Just because you have played the game does not mean you will be a good coach. Same stands for umpiring. We are extremely open to First-Class or international cricketers getting into this role. It is tough work, so they’ll have to consider it.

Are former cricketers not attracted towards umpiring because it is not as lucrative as it should be, especially at the domestic level?

We will try and make it lucrative for them. Try and make it possible for First-Class cricketers to get into this profession. It is a highly demanding and a respectable profession, but you are right. We’ll have to work something out.

Cricketers’ match-fees have been revised but that for the other staff — umpires, scorers and video analysts — is still pending.

It is a decision that is taken by the top management. They are aware of the fact that something should be done about it and I am sure they will look into it.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Sport> Cricket / by Amol Karhadkar / Mumbai – March 21st, 2018

Second Lucknow ‘fixed’ in sepia

WEST BENGAL :

Liveried servants of the Nawab of Oudh wait with a palanquin in one of the rare photographs of Metiabruz, during Wajid Ali Shah’s time. The royal insignia is embroidered on the back of one of them. Copied from the original by Rashbehari Das
Liveried servants of the Nawab of Oudh wait with a palanquin in one of the rare photographs of Metiabruz, during Wajid Ali Shah’s time. The royal insignia is embroidered on the back of one of them. Copied from the original by Rashbehari Das

A portfolio of fast-fading photographs that provides possibly the only pictorial document of the second Lucknow that Wajid Ali Shah had created in Metiabruz, after he was exiled there, is urgently in need of preservation. The photographs are, moreover, some of the earliest examples of the art as practised the world over.

Amjad Ali Mirza of Garden Reach Road, in his 60s, who is a great-great-grandson of the ruler of Oudh, possesses the photographs. But he doesn’t know how to preserve these friable prints whose sepia has, in some cases, turned a ghostly shadow of its former self. Says Mirza: “I have no doubt about the authenticity of the photographs. The portfolio is ancestral property. It was handed down to me by my uncle, Yaqub Ali Mirza, who died in 1973.” Some of the photographs are captioned in Urdu. But the identity of the photographer shall always remain a mystery. Oscar Mallitte, a French commercial photographer, we know, had captured a view of the village at Garden Reach, circa 1864, but there is no evidence he did this assignment.

Abdul Halim Sharar (1860-1926) tells the story of Oudh in his book Lucknow: The Last Phase of an Oriental Culture. In it, he has also documented the last days of Wajid Ali Shah in Metiabruz, where he set up a city whose splendour surpassed Lucknow’s glory in the pre-Mutiny days. The palaces, pleasure gardens and zoo that the Nawab had created on the banks of the Hooghly come alive in these photographs, not much larger than postcards. It is as if chemicals and light had “fixed” the scenes that Sharar’s readers conjure up in their mind’s eye.

Soon after the Mutiny had fizzled out, the Nawab was released from confinement in Fort William and he returned to Metiabruz. There, while turning abstemious, he developed a passion for animals and for building beautiful houses. Before the Zoological Gardens was established in Alipore in 1876, the Nawab had already acquired a large menagerie that included rare birds, deer, horses and an open-air snake-pit that left visitors awestruck. But after Wajid Ali Shah’s death in 1887, Metiabruz became a hell-hole almost overnight.

The photographs prove that Sharar, when he described Metiabruz, never deviated from reality. Unlike the Lucknow architecture, with its embarrassment of stucco ornaments, the buildings of Metiabruz are constructed on the lines of European bungalows. The lines are simple but no less grand than the palaces of Lucknow.

Overlooking the river or surrounded by expanses of water, they are connected by bridges. Flags flutter on their tiled roofs. There is hardly any Islamic influence in their architecture, save a low-rise with triple minarets. Ostriches, deer, sheep and horses were the showpieces of the Metiabruz parkland. The snake-pit resembles a giant termite hill. One can almost hear the harsh calls of the clumsy pelicans and cranes strutting around the aviary. The liveried servants wait outside the palace gate with a palanquin. The piscine insignia of the royal family of Oudh is stitched on to the back of one man’s coat. There are two significant photographs. In one, the gang of smiling labourers carry construction material on their heads as they create the new Metiabruz. Another shows the buildings of Metiabruz being demolished. An exquisite way of life being wiped away forever.

source: http://www.telegraphindia.com / The Telegraph / Home> West Bengal / by Soumitra Das in Mirza / July 14th, 2003

A Place for Us a ‘quintessentially American’ tale? Fatima Farheen Mirza answers

Hyderabad, INDIA / California, U.S.A :

Writing about an immigrant Muslim family in America, A Place for Us author Fatima Farheen Mirza says she wanted to place their lives and concerns at the centre of the narrative.

Visiting India for the first time five years ago, author Fatima Farheen Mirza visited the masjid (mosque) where her parents had her nikkah (wedding), in the city of Hyderabad. Fatima was then the same age that her mother was the same number of years ago.

“A man was sitting outside in the courtyard, threading flowers that would decorate one of the shrines. I asked if I could have one flower, because I wanted a souvenir of the place, and he denied me. I remember telling him, ‘But my mother got married here’. And he looked at me, asked me to wait for a minute, and then threaded an elaborate string of flowers that I could tie to wear in my hair. I’ll never forget it.”

This is how Fatima describes that moment. It is almost as if this passage has filtered out of the consciousness of one of the characters of her famous debut, A Place for Us. As a family gathers for the nikkah of their eldest child, the obedient, precocious doctor Hadia, their youngest, the delinquent, the errant Amar, cannot be found for the family photograph. This is a family, but the discord is unbelievable, and the silhouette of the elephant in the room grows darker and darker.

“I wanted to do my best [for] this family. I wanted to do justice to their lives, I wanted to understand their experience with as much complexity and care as I possibly could. I loved them, and it was a privilege to be able to write about them,” says Fatima about the book’s keenly felt impulses, its ability to pick up life’s mundane moments lying unnoticed in our midst and light them up with meaning. A Place for Us was recently chosen by Sarah Jessica Parker — Carrie Bradshaw of the hit American sitcom Sex and the City — for her publishing debut with her imprint for Hogarth Press. And while Parker has called it a “book about a quintessentially American family”, Pulitzer Prize-winner novelist Paul Harding has exalted it as “a work of extraordinary and enthralling beauty”.

Born and raised in California, it is natural to assume that Fatima not only spoke and wrote English for the majority of her life, but wrote about characters that belonged to a certain place, a certain way of life. How did the book come about? “Writing has always been a part of my life. Recently, I was surprised to find a story from when I was maybe seven or eight, because it was written in both Urdu and English—an impulse that returned when I was working on the novel. But throughout high school, I wrote about characters with names like Corrie, and now I wonder if my imagination had internalized the belief that stories belonged only to the kind of characters I’d grown up consuming. I remember pausing when I first wrote the name Hadia, how I not sure if I could proceed, but once I started writing about this family, I was committed,” says Fatima.

But conceptualising Hadia — which means the ‘guided one’, and is the ideal daughter, freethinking but also committed and devoted, and thinking for her — surely must have come somewhere from inside Fatima, who was once pursuing medicine, and has similar beliefs about religion and autonomy?

“Once seeds from one’s own life are planted into the novel, they are altered by the personality of the characters, and begin to take on their own significance. I might relate to the pressure Hadia feels to pursue a medical career path in order to make her parents proud, or Amar, keeping journals and looking to lines of poetry as a way to make sense of his own life — but the way these pursuits and pressures manifest in Hadia and Amar’s life is theirs alone,” Fatima shares.

At a moment in the novel, Hadia, soon to turn nine, contemplates intensely on the looming prospect of wearing the hijab, which her faith requires of her. With religious symbols coming under a lot of fire lately throughout the world, how does choosing or rejecting the hijab empower Hadia or her mother Layla? “Each character is aware of what the world wants from them. They have to navigate what their community, family, and faith want from them. It can be difficult, in the face of all of this, to know what they want for themselves. Figuring out their desires and attempting to make choices is what each of the characters contends with,” she says.

“[So], they are empowered when they make a choice that is aligned with their inner voice. This also applies to religious practices — Layla is empowered when she wears the hijab, and Hadia, when she decides not to.” And indeed, when not touching your deepest impulses about life and relationships, A Place for Us is a work about the significance of choices: An otherwise patriarchal father passes on a watch meant for a son, to his daughter. A deeply conservative mother gathers the courage to roll up her shalwar to meet her little son in the river. A young couple in love chooses to continue to meet in private, risking everything at stake for their families.

In this book about a quintessentially American family, white characters make short appearances as the immigrant minority dominates the focus, and their customs and sensibility — Sunday school, the significance of prayer, community gatherings — comes to the forefront of an American consciousness. Can one interpret this novel, then, as an attempt to envision a new America?

“This is rather [my way] of presenting the experience of living in America that is true to these characters. I wanted to place their lives, their concerns, at the centre of the narrative. If what results is a version of America that seems new, then what that speaks to is the lack of adequate representation in literature — because these lives are here, they have been here, and they have stories to tell,” Fatima says.

Modest though she may be — Fatima has undeniably mastered the art of sticking to describing life through memory. From the first scene, the narrative shifts into a series of flashbacks, in no particular sequence, from the collective consciousness of this family. From the parents’ wedding in India, their relocation to the US, the birth of their kids, the little moments as they grow up — the childhood stories, picnics, crushes, school, their rivalries and revelries — the narrative reveals itself both all at once and in parts.

And she explains the systematic revelation and withholding of information that take place through such a technique. “The [flashbacks] appear the way memories rise in a mind trying to understand something about one’s past — seemingly at random, skirting around a conflict, until enough context is understood that the centre of the conflict can be tunneled towards.”

Most of A Place for Us is poetry, and poetry is what moves its author. “I loved and returned to The Lover by Marguirite Duras and The Great Fire by Shirley Hazzard. I listened endlessly to Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings, trying to pay attention to the mood and movement in it, and how that could translate into the way I thought about the structure for the sections within the novel. I wrote and rewrote quotes by Muhammad Ali into my journal to stay focused,” says Fatima, who is learning boxing these days.

Interact with the author @Prannay13

source: http://www.hindustantimes.com / Hindustan Times / Home> Books / by Prannay, Hindustan Times / September 19th, 2018