Most of us walk a metaphorical tightrope in life, but this brave teenager, from the Nat tribe literally walks one high above Chandni Chowk risking her life to feed her family of six and support an alcoholic father. Below her, her mother operates a music system from a parked rickshaw with her head hung low, desperately holding out plates and even pushing a digital QR code toward smartphone users, yet hardly anyone stops to fling a few coins for her daughters’ daredevilry. “My daughter has fallen a couple of times and even broken a bone, but what to do,” the mother tells me. She is unhappy exposing her daughter and herself to ogling eyes. “My tribe has been doing this for ages. We eat here, rest and work her for over 10 hours with no access to a ladies’ toilet. At night we go to our shack near the railway station.” From the jhalliwallas to palledars, daily-wage laborers, helpers, runners, guards, acrobats and dozens of other menial workers throng this busy street, which has been bustling with activity for nearly 400 years now. <In Chandni Chowk, a week before> ‘पुरानी दिल्ली: साझा संस्कृति का सफ़र’ from @Leftword.com
If there is one street, one bazaar in our city that epitomizes shared heritage and secular values, it is Chandni Chowk in Purani Delhi (पुरानी दिल्ली). Look at this beautiful sight: the golden dome of Shree Sis Ganj Gurdwara Sahib as seen from inside the Sunehri Masjid right next to it. The Masjid is being repaired – special niches were added to enhance the view – and look at the कंगूरे (Crenellations) on top of the wall, the decorative element of a mosque’s outer wall. Ah, something to behold in Purani Delhi: a living example of साझा संस्कृति का सफर for nearly 400 years now. In less than a 700-meter stretch, people of different faiths celebrate their religious beliefs and ideologies in brotherhood, while respecting each other’s space. Starting at the eastern corner of Chandni Chowk we see the Digambar Jain Lal Mandir, which touches the Gauri Shankar temple. Walk 150 meters diagonally and we find the Central Baptist Church. Diagonally across another 100 meters is the Gurudwara Sis Ganj Sahib which shares a common wall with the Sunehri Masjid. Lastly, walk another five hundred meters to face the beautiful Fatehpuri masjid, built in 1650 by Fatehpuri Begum, the emperor’s wife. In my book पुरानी दिल्ली: साझा संस्कृति का सफर you will find this and many other stories of Purani Delhi. Available from Leftword.com and also on Amazon.
Ashadha heralds the monsoon, a time when sadhus or wandering minstrels traditionally paused their travels and sought shelter. Fanning them to offer relief from uncomfortable heat was considered a vital act of service. Thus it became a tradition to donate colourful pankhis during this month.This historically important Indian airing/cooling tool evolved from simple woven palm or bamboo leaves to ornate embroidered portable artifacts made from cloth. This fan too was a part of the giveaway during the month of Ashadh together with sweet water-milk and poori-chhole. The pankhi offers immediate relief from intense summer heat and monsoon humidity and it was believed that donating a pankha during Ashadha earns immense spiritual merit. Historically, it provided comfort to the travellers during the rainy season. This supposed pious act is believed to wash away sins and bring blessings of prosperity. This Pankhi or Pankha was the fan, cooler, and AC all-in-one for our parents’ generation until about the late 1950s.
A pankhi refers to a small, plumed, or intricately designed hand fan, while pankha is the broader Hindi term that generally describes all types of fans (both manual and electric).Handcrafted, lightweight bamboo woven fans require no electricity, making them ideal for power outages or while sitting on the porch. The decorative or embroidered pankhis often feature intricate zari, mirror work, or deity motifs, commonly used in prayer rooms or given as wedding favors. In those days these were powered by another USB called Universal Strong Bazzu.
Sisters share more than just the mother – they share memories, morsels and mirth. As sisters age together they share bodily pains and aches, develop identical creases on their faces and near-similar throbbing blue veins under wrinkled skins in which the biological code of generations is embedded. Well past their nineties, sisters start looking like identical twins with similar, puzzling faces. Their toothless smiles and groggy grunts sound so much alike that their own children can confuse one for the other. When they huddle together with faces covered, their own sons falter in picking the Mother from the Massi.
Only when I looked closely did I find that my massi had slightly broader nails on her long dainty fingers. Ma’s fingernails were naturally manicured into perfect rounded shapes, she rarely filed them, rounded the tips or even applied nail enamel. Earlier in life Ma would chew nails when anxious.
Having lost my mother six weeks ago, I am here in Suratgarh to see my Massi who is Ma’s immediate older sibling. Having been privy to their phone calls, thrice a day for over two decades, I can vouch that the attachment between two sisters who lived past ninety is a rare, beautiful masterpiece shaped by nearly a century of shared existence. Their connection transcends words, relying on a silent, comforting telepathy built over nine decades. They are living mirrors for one another, anchoring each other to reality and providing a unique comfort that nobody else can duplicate. Massi threw up her hands and cried for an hour upon seeing me. It was very difficult to control her and I wanted her to pour out the grief.
Ma and Massi shared a private universe of memories (from Jhang, Lahore, Rohtak and Patna), remembering the same childhood home, their parents, and the trials of the Partition era that we have only read about in history books. For years their bond provided an unmatched sense of emotional security, offering each other a safe harbour where they could be themselves: ‘Sisters Without Pretense’.
Meeting Sarla Massi was something I owed my mother and myself—a plan that couldn’t materialize because of Ma’s detriorating health. Meeting her favourite nephew (me), massi is at peace and I too feel at peace when I stand in front of Ma’s photo. ‘Ma, we met her, Sarla auntie is fine.’ In this poignant picture from the 50s, the sisters share a special moment with their Mom, my Nani, Chandravati. And the other picture is of Sarla auntie and her hands from a few days ago. This is the last piece of our Suratgarh sojourn.
“All India Radio Suratgarh welcomes you to the Cotton City Channel on 918 kilohertz. You can listen to our programmes on Medium Wave and AM frequencies.”
It had been ages since I entered an AIR studio. The last time, I recorded a Radio Play and this time, I recorded Memories, trust me it was fun. The visit was courtesy of brother Raajesh Chadha who served as the Programme Director here for nearly 36 years. During his illustrious career Raajesh’s baritone was much in demand as evidenced by over 500 trophies displayed at his home (picture).
What I thought was a small station, with just about three studios, turned out to be broadcasting on a massive 300 kW transmitter which reaches far beyond India’s borders (AIR Delhi uses only 200 kW). It is one of the most clearly heard Indian radio stations in Central Europe during the winter months. The station relays news, film songs, phone-in programs, world round-up, and Rajasthani folk belted out under the tag line “One voice. A billion hearts.” Programmes for local farmers include weather updates, crop prices, and expert advice on modern farming techniques.
Known as “Cotton City” and “Bowl of grain” of Rajasthan, Suratgarh is 77 km south of its district headquarters Sri Ganganagar city. Maharaja Surat Singh founded the city. Hindi, Bagri, Rajasthani and Punjabi are the widely spoken languages of the city. Well connected with decent highways and a railway station Suratgarh still awaits air connectivity. Other than the desert heat and the sandy dust I am certain the city would be a pleasant place in winters. Thanks bhai for our picture in the studio. <Suratgarh sojourn>
Suratgarh was a significant arena of historical incidents in the ancient past. The city was once called Sodal. Around 3000 BC Suratgarh is believed to have been a lush, green place due to the presence of two big rivers, Sarasvati and Drishadvati. Present sand possessed various botanical and zoological species within the basins of chaste Sarasvati and Drishvati. The emergence of Kalibangan and Barod civilizations was facilitated by the geographical and environmental complements of the Sarasvati, and Suratgarh was a noteworthy testimony to this. The traces of ancient civilization near Rangmahal, Manaksaar and Amarpura show the historical significance of Suratgarh where the Sarasvati civilization receded after 1500 years of stability.
Suratgarh developed greatly under the rule of Maharaja Ganga Singh who built a hunting lodge at Suratgarh and ensured the connectivity of Suratgarh to the train service. Hanumangarh and Bikaner came under the Suratgarh District when the district was established. Establishment of the Ganges Canal in 1927 helped Suratgarh develop; it became a city after partition when refugees from Pakistan came and settled here. An air and military base station, Akashvani and various offices have been established at Suratgarh.
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