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Sindhi

168 – From Karachi to Bombay

My mother Indra's family. Karachi (now Pakistan). Circa 1930

My mother Indra’s parents, siblings, and cousins. Karachi (now Pakistan). Circa 1930

Image and Text contributed by Roma Mehta, Taipei

This is one of my favourite photographs of my mother Indra’s family. It was taken in front of her family’s home in Sindhi Colony in Karachi, almost a decade before the partition of India and Pakistan took place. It is difficult to pinpoint an exact date but I estimate it was the 1930s.

It is possible this photo was taken on the occasion of my uncle (mother’s brother) Moti’s wedding but I cannot confirm it. Sitting in the middle are my grandfather, Gaganmal Jhangiani whom we fondly called Baba and grandmother, Laxmi Bai whom we called Ammi. Around them sit his children, his brother’s children and a relative-in-law.

Baba was a tall and dark complexioned man, and Ami was petite and fair. To me, they seemed like ebony and ivory. Ami and Baba used to play together as children and when Ami turned 12, the families got them married. It seems that my grandmother had basic elementary education but like most women of the time, she became busy with domestic matter and household duties.

My grandfather was an architect by profession and had studied in England. I have been told that he was instrumental in designing and planning the Sindhi Colony in Karachi. Life was good for the family : they had a lovely home, a horse carriage, and a great love of music and culture. Each one of them knew how to play an Indian classical music instrument. The family would even sing together on many occasions.

My mother, Indra always told us stories from her youth with utmost glee, reliving her days of fun and freedom. Here she stands directly behind Ammi on our right. My mother was independent natured, fierce and talented. She played the Harmonium, Sitar, Tanpura, and the Tabla. She also loved to sing and longed to perform on radio, which of course, was out of the question – For it was improper for a girl to do such things in society. Nonetheless, my mother found a way around and would sneak away from home in the horse carriage when no one was watching.

My mother and her siblings were staunch supporters of Mahatma Gandhi and participated in the struggle for freedom and would often march along with pro-independence processions against British rule. Later, they even joined the Dandi march (Salt march) initiated by Mahatma Gandhi, and the women would carry red chili powder in their fists in case they needed to protect themselves. Upon an arrest of one such march, my uncles were put in jail, but my mother and other women were set free and that did not sit well with her. My mother said she felt cheated from the rush of spending a night in jail – fighting for a cause she believed in.

During partition, the family decided to leave Karachi and move to the Indian side of the border. They were amongst the few with an already established base in Bombay (a grand-uncle ran a sports equipment business). The family traveled light to Bombay (now Mumbai) in midst of rioting, with bare clothing to keep the children safe. Like million of others who could never return – Bombay became their home and they began a new life.

Many of our relatives were displaced or lost their family members during this migration, and for months after their move to Bombay, my grandmother would search the docks and train stations, for relatives and acquaintances who needed help. Baba passed away soon after the partition and I never got a chance to meet him, but I did inherit his reclining armchair, that he sat on every day to rest and read.

Years later, when my parents were on a flight to London from Calcutta (now Kolkata), they had an unscheduled stopover in Karachi due to technical difficulties. My parents used this opportunity to visit the places they grew up in. My mother was delighted and deeply saddened at the same time to see her childhood home and an engraved stone plate that still displayed the family name.

A little bit of the past still lives on in the only surviving family member seen in this photograph, my mother’s first cousin, Radhika, sitting left in the front row. She celebrated her 90th birthday in August 2016.


80 – With props and accessories, she indulged her fantasies at a photo studio

My mother, Mohini Goklani. Pune, Maharashtra. Circa 1950

Image and Text contributed by Sunita Kripalani, Goa

In 1947, after partition, when my grandfather Nanikram Goklani and his wife Khemi migrated to India, along with their extended family from Karachi, Pakistan, they settled in Pune, Maharashtra with their 9 children. My mother Mohini, second of seven sisters, was just 16 at that time. Grandpa got a job in the Income Tax department and although times were tough, my grandfather made sure all the children received excellent education.

My mother and her older sister Sheela went to Nowrosjee Wadia College and my grandfather managed to procure admission for some of the younger children in reputed schools such as Sardar Dastur Hoshang Boys’ High School, and St. Helena’s School for Girls. The children studied well, they were voracious readers, and led a simple life.

During the 1950s, the sisters were well versed in household skills, especially the art of stitching and embroidery. They fashioned their own clothes, copying designs from magazines and the displays in the shop windows of Main Street. At home however, they maintained decorum and modesty, but ever so often, Duru, my mother’s younger sister, would coax her to go with her to a photo studio on Main Street called The Art Gallery to get their photographs taken. Duru would pack all kinds of stuff for both of them: ties and beads, scarves and skirts, hats and belts, not to forget some make-up, and the two of them would mount their bicycles and head for the studio where they indulged their fantasies, using studio props and their own accessories.

In the picture my mother is wearing “Awara pants”, a style made famous after the well known actor, Raj Kapoor’s movie by the same name. She is also very nonchalantly holding a cigarette, albeit unlit, between her fingers! The photograph is totally incongruous with her personality, for copying Nargis, the star actress of the time, was more my mom’s style whereas my aunt Duru was bolder and more tomboyish.

I don’t know if my grandfather knew what was going on, or if he approved, but he was not the kind of father who would scold any of his children. If he didn’t like something, he simply wrote a few words on a piece of paper and slipped the little note under that child’s pillow, which was enough to bring the rebellious offspring back on track… but that’s another story.

After college, my mother got a job at the Department of Cooperation, Government of Maharashtra. It was her first and last job. She retired in 1985 as Assistant Registrar of Cooperative Societies, Bombay.

 

 


59 – He played the same role as Tagore

My father Prof. RR Kripalani (far right) in Tagore's play "Dak Ghar" (Post Office) staged by the teaching staff of DJ Sind College, Karachi. 1937

Image and text contributed by Mrs. Shamlu Kripalani Dudeja, Kolkata (www.calcuttafoundation.com)

I am a Sindhi and I was born in Karachi in 1938.

This is an image of my father on 20 Jan, 1937, in DJ Sind College, Karachi. The photograph is courtesy the College (which now stands in Pakistan) where my father was a Professor of Mathematics till 1945. It shows a scene from Rabindra Nath Tagore‘s play “Dak Ghar” (Post Office) which was staged by the teaching staff of the College in Karachi in 1937 during their 20 year celebrations. Here my father  is in the role of Gaffar. I presume the play was translated in English, because the cast was all non-Bengali, in fact, most of them are Sindhis. In 1930s, Tagore had himself acted in ‘Dak Ghar‘ as Gaffar, the same role that my father played.

My father and his wife, Sushila moved from Karachi to Delhi via Bombay, in September 1947 during partition, with me, my younger sister Indu and youngest brother Gul. We lived there for 10 years. My father got a job in the Ministry of Commerce & Industry due to his mastery in Statistics as in those days Statistics was not a very commonly studied subject. I studied Math, got married, taught Math, and by a string of happenstances got involved in the Kantha revival, 25 years ago. In 2009/2010 I began depicting scenes from Tagore’s pictures through the medium of Kantha, where I sat with my women aritsans and artists from the villages of Bengal. I am now 73 and  have lived in Kolkata since 1962.


34 – The fourth President of India, before he became one

The Farewell party for V.V Giri, then the High Commissioner of India to Ceylon (Now Sri Lanka), Columbo. July 3, 1948.

Image and text contributed by Sunder Mirchandani

Since Colombo was a relatively small capital, much of the social life of expat Indians involved mingling with the diplomatic circle. When an officer was transferred there would be a round of farewell parties. This particular farewell was hosted by my parents Sita and Nari Mirchandani at the Galle Face Hotel for V V Giri, (Varahagiri Venkata Giri) then the High Commissioner for India in Colombo prior to his return to India. I sit next to him, as a child. The Hotel is still a landmark  in Colombo. V.V Giri went on to become the fourth President of India in 1964. He was in power until 1974.

 


33 – The Sindhi Ladies Association

The Sindhi Ladies Club Committee, Sri Lanka. 1951

Image and Text contributed by Sunder Mirchandani

Colombo consisted of a small Sindhi Community – they were mainly traders/shopkeepers, who lived there since the 1940s. My mother, Sita Mirchandani (second from right) was a founding member and a secretary in the committee. All meetings were occasions to dress up and show off their latest saris, fashion and styles. Fourth from left stands Kamala Hirdaramani  (President) –  proudly displaying a then in style purse.


22 – She was the epitome of style and sophistication

My mother (center) Maya Shivdasani, with her parents, Dr Manghanmal Kripalani, an eminent physician and Sarsati Kripalani, Hyderabad Sind, 1939

Image and text contributed by Usha Bhandarkar

My mother Maya Shivdasani is now 90 year old of age. She was born in Hyderabad Sind in 1919 and came to Bombay after her marriage in 1937. After her marriage in 1937 Maya moved to Bombay but would visit her parents in Hyderabad Sind (Now Pakistan) at least twice a year. This photograph was taken on one of her visits to Hyderabad where she was the epitome of style and sophistication: sleeveless sari blouse, short hair, long, painted fingernails.

She has lived in Cuffe Parade all these 73 years, read the Times of India every single day and visits the Cricket Club of India once a week. One of her favourite haunts is the Sea Lounge at the Taj Mahal Hotel. She was truly saddened to see it damaged in the Mumbai attacks of 2008. On the day the Sea Lounge reopened she was there sitting at a window table, sipping their wonderful Viennoise Coffee.