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The German garden designer of the Indian Subcontinent

The German garden designer of the Indian Subcontinent
My great-grandfather, Gustav Hermann Krumbiegel and great-grandmother Klara, with their family at home. Bangalore, Mysore Presidency (now Karnataka). Circa 1935

My great-grandfather, Gustav Hermann Krumbiegel and great-grandmother Klara, with their family at home. Bangalore, Mysore Presidency (now Karnataka). Circa 1935 Image and Narrative contributed by Alyia Phelps-Gardiner, UK This is a photography of my great grandfather Gustav Hermann Krumbiegel with his family, also known as GHK, taken at their residence, Granite Castle, in Bangalore. My great grandfather Gustav Hermann Krumbiegel or GHK as we call him, was born on December 18, 1865 in Lohmen, Germany. He studied horticulture and garden design at Pilnitz, Germany and after graduating, wrote several letters for an opportunity to work with The Royal Parks in London, until finally, he was offered a job to design the flower beds for Hyde Park, the largest Royal Park in London, UK. After his contract at Hyde Park ended, he became an employee and a lecturer at the Royal Botanical Gardens in Kew (London district) and in his spare time studied Architecture design at Kensington University. The beautiful gardens of London were a usual visit for most of the Indian Subcontinent’s Royalty and thus an impressed Maharaja of Baroda, Sayajirao Gaekwad III, asked for a horticulturist for his gardens. When GHK was presented with the offer to be his horticulturist for the Baroda State, and considering a radically different climate of the Tropics, I have no doubt that my great grandfather would have thought of it as the most interesting opportunity, and accepted the offer. GHK moved to India in 1893, at the age of 26 was soon joined by his wife, my English great grandmother Katie Clara who arrived at the shores of Bombay at the age of 18. My Grandmother Hilda, Great Aunts Frieda and Vera…

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The wonderful nuns of Ajmer, Rajasthan

Image and Narrative points contributed by Priyamvada Singh, Ajmer, Rajasthan The newly born baby in this picture is my father, Jitendra Singh, and the lady holding him is my grandmother, Hansa Kumari This picture was photographed at Saint Francis Nursing home, Ajmer (Rajasthan) in October 1956 - a few days after my father , was born.  The lady sitting on the left is Dr. Albuquerque, one of the most proficient gynecologists of that time. The nun sitting on the right is Sister Beatrice - a senior administrator at Saint Francis. The three nuns standing behind them also worked at the nursing home, and even though my grandmother doesn’t recall their names now, she can never forget their kindness and compassion as long as she lives. My family used to live in a small village Meja, about 125 kms from Ajmer (now a large township in Rajasthan). Our district at the time did not have very reliable medical facilities and so it was decided that my heavily pregnant grandmother would be taken to Ajmer for delivery. As soon as her ninth month began, my grandmother went to Ajmer along with my great grandmother by train. My grandfather went to drop them but returned immediately because someone had to stay back in the village to look after my bedridden great grandfather. The plan was to find a reasonably priced hotel or a rented apartment for the delivery period, but when the nuns learnt that my family were outstation patients and that only two ladies were going to stay back in the city, they figured it was going to be an  inconvenient, especially in case of a medical emergency. So they made…

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The pocket money photograph

The pocket money photograph
My Father, Subhash Goyal. Vaishno Devi Temple premises. Jammu & Kashmir. 1979

My Father, Subhash Goyal. Vaishno Devi Temple premises. Jammu & Kashmir. 1979 Image & Narrative contributed by Sayali Goyal, New Delhi My father Subhash Goyal was born in 1968. He grew up in Bathinda, Punjab with four of his siblings (two elder sisters and two younger brothers) and a large extended family of 19 cousins, innumerable aunts & uncles, all of whom lived on the same street. This photograph of him as a young teenager is special to me and when I asked him about it, he tells me that it was taken when he had gone for a trip with his parents to the much revered Vaishno Devi Temple after his Board exams. He spent half of his pocket money  (5-Paisa) to secretly get this photo done in a studio in front of an old camera in Kashmiri attire. The idea of a solo photograph was fascinating to him. My great grand father, Roshan Lal Katia was a senior advocate in Punjab. He had 11 children who multiplied the family gene further with 24 more - my father being one of them. He recalls that my great grandfather had a taste for luxury and was a forward thinking man. He educated all his children, including the girls - all of whom became renowned doctors and lawyers. My father primary school was Summer Hill convent and then high school was St. Joseph's Convent where all his cousins studied too. When he grew up, he chose to become a business man. My father has always been immensely fond of travelling, and often reminisces about his family's expeditions to several places including Agra and Rishikesh in Uttar Pradesh. He enjoyed travels on trains for simple pleasure…

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The force behind my grandfather’s success

The force behind my grandfather’s success
My grandparents, Bani and Radhika Karmakar . Bombay (now Mumbai). Maharashtra. 1972

My grandparents, Bani and Radhika Karmakar . Bombay (now Mumbai). Maharashtra. 1972 Image & Narrative contributed by Anuradha Karmakar, Mumbai My Dida (grandmother in Bengali) Bani Karmakar (née Roy) was born on October 5, 1926 in Shologhor, Dacca District in erstwhile East Bengal. She had a rather impoverished childhood as the eldest child of a large family with three sisters, two brothers and a host of extended family members. She witnessed, at close quarters, the horrors of the Great Bengal Famine of 1943, where three million people perished. Dida did not have much of a formal education as she was married off in 1944, at the age of 17 to Radhika Jiban Karmakar, a soft-spoken 28-year-old man from Gramwari, Dacca (now Dhaka). Radhika Jiban left home at the age of 16, worked in the Calcutta Film Industry as a lab technician and also learnt photography from Jatin Das, a well-known photographer in Calcutta (now Kolkata). He then migrated with Das to Bombay in 1940, leaving behind a young wife in East Bengal with his family, where their first daughter, Sudevi was born in October 1947. The horrors of the communal massacres during 1946-1947 were witnessed by Bani, as also during one harsh monsoon, the swollen river Padma, changed course and devoured houses and paddy fields, the only source of sustenance for many. These two unfortunate events forced the mass exodus of many Bengalis seeking refuge and the Karmakars were among the millions who were forced to leave everything behind in 1948, many of whom migrated to West Bengal. After a short stay in West Bengal, Bani found herself joining her cinematographer husband in the hustle and bustle of Bombay, which…

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‘Gunjing’ in the poshest market of Lucknow, Hazratgunj

‘Gunjing’ in the poshest market of Lucknow, Hazratgunj
My brother Aman and I, at our grandparents' home. Hazratgunj, Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh. 1982

My brother Aman and I, at our grandparents' home. Hazratgunj, Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh. 1982 Image and Text contributed by Annie Zaidi, Mumbai My brother Aman Zaidi and I spent about a year living with our maternal grandparents in Lucknow, while our mother was in the hostel in Aligarh Muslim University (AMU), trying to finish her Masters. I was about two and a half years old, hence my memories of this phase are dim. But I was deeply attached to my grandma and was perpetually tailing my big brother, Aman. I also have vague memories of trying to play 'Kabaddi' with his friends. This photograph was taken on Aman's seventh birthday by my father, and Aman had just been gifted his first bicycle. He learnt to ride it the same day. Since I was not gifted a bike until I was much older, I never did learn to ride one and still can't. Our father had taken us to Hazratgunj, the poshest market in town, perhaps for a treat. I have no idea why I'm making that face - perhaps annoyed at being asked to pose too long. Another colour photograph of this day tells me that my brother was wearing a smart, red jacket and it matched his brand new Red bike. I was wearing a Pink Anarkali styled kurta with a little black embroidered 'Koti' (sleeveless jacket). It was a baby version of the costume that female qawwals in Hindi movies of the 50s & 60s were often seen in. This day - or at least, this outfit - should have been memorable, my family tells me. We were visiting my bua (father's sister) and she had a pet dog. I had never…

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