fbpx

A spring in our lives

A spring in our lives
Soni and I. Faridabad. 1975

Soni and I. Faridabad. 1975 Image and Narrative contributed by Adit Dave, Delhi In 1975 my family and I moved to Delhi from Assam. After college I began working with the Government of India in various departments of administration. I called myself a Sarkari Naukar, a government Servant, because it really did feel like that. However, I had a passion for Motor Bikes and Rock Music, and it always made everything better. This image was taken in the spring of 1982, and as I call it, also the spring of our lives. I had met my girlfriend Soni just a few months ago, at a New Year’s party; she was introduced to me by her sister. She used to work with a well known home accessories store called, The Shop at Connaught place, near Regal Cinema in Delhi. I remember this day clearly. Delhi weather in spring was just wonderful and it was also great for a motorcycle ride into the wilderness. I had donned my usual old hand-me-down army great coat, pulled on my helmet and tooled on over on my trusty Royal Enfield bike (a third hand purchase for Rs. 3000) to pick up my new girlfriend Soni for a short adventure outside the city.The air was cold and crisp, and with good friends along on the ride we were the right ingredients for a joyous time ahead. We headed out onto the Faridabad Highway. without a plan, and soon found ourselves riding a narrow dirt road to Surajkund. The “Kund” or lake, existed then and I think we even went for a boat ride. Simple pleasures like Paranthas and Andaa bhurji at a dhaba (road side restaurant) were…

Continue Reading

He designed motorbikes, served the British Army and worked in a circus with his wife.

He designed motorbikes, served the British Army and worked in a circus with his wife.
My grandfather, Glyndon Ralph O'Leary, fondly known as Mike. Location - Probably Sibi (Now Pakistan). 1941

My grandfather, Glyndon Ralph O'Leary, fondly known as Mike. Location - Probably Sibi (Now Pakistan). 1941 Image and Narrative contributed by Shaun Waller & Oonagh Waller, UK These are the memories of my mother, Oonagh who was born in India to my grandparents, Glyndon Ralph O'Leary (Mike) and Sheilagh Anges Mary Maguire. - Shaun "My father, Glyndon Ralph O'Leary was fondly known as Mike. He was born in 1902 in Toronto, Canada to Winifred and Ralph O'Leary, who were of Irish descent. At the age of Twelve, he left Canada and began his military career in the Boys service, Indian Subcontinent from 1914 - 1919 and continued in various regiments serving the British Empire on and off until 1946. Mike was also a Practical Motor Engineer: his brothers and he owned and worked in a motorcycle workshop and showroom called the O’Leary Brothers in Dehradun, Uttar Pradesh. They also designed and built a motorcycle called the White Streak. However, it never made it to production. At one point, they bought an old motorcycle, a Brough Superior from T. E. Lawrence (The very original Lawrence of Arabia) and exhibited it in their showroom. While in the army in Lahore, Mike manufactured scale models for Forest Research, Rural upliftment, P.W.D. and Irrigation departments and also tactical models for training of mechanised fighting vehicles. 12 such gold medal standard models manufactured by him were on display in the Forestry Department of Lahore Central Museum. I wonder if they are still there. Mike married Sheilagh Anges Mary Maguire in October 1928 in Lahore and subsequently had three children - Michael, Oonagh and Larry. Later the children went to boarding school in Mussoorie: Wynberg…

Continue Reading

The forgotten First Olympic swimmer of British India

The forgotten First Olympic swimmer of British India
Nalin Malik with me and my father. Calcutta, West Bengal. December, 1950

Nalin Malik with me and my father. Calcutta, West Bengal. December, 1950 Image and Narrative contributed by Abhijit Das Gupta, Kolkata This image was photographed in Calcutta (Now Kolkata) in 1950. I was about four years old. My Father used to take me to the swimming club in Dhakuria lake (now Rabindra Sarovar). The pool in the club doesn’t exist any more. In the picture, a man called Nalin Malik is on the left, and behind us swims my father. Nalin Malik was our swimming trainer and what is not known is that Nalin Malik represented the British India in the 1932 Olympics held in Los Angeles, USA . He never had any formal training, in fact he was so poor that he could not even afford full meals. From what I know, my uncle, Pankaj Gupta, also a sports legend spotted Nalin swimming in the Ganges. Pankaj Gupta was a sports administrator and he too began his career with the 1932 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. He was a manager and coach to the Indian contingent and managed several sports events across Europe and the USA. Nalin Malik stood fourth in the 400 Meters Swimming Heat 4. He swam without even a proper swimming costume. People used to say Nalin Malik did not swim – he mowed the water apart. The unfortunate part is that he remained an unacknowledged, secluded, and a very lonely man whom no one remembered or paid tribute to. I however, have fond memories of him. He was a very tough trainer. On this day in a cold December in 1950, he made me cross the lake. The return was on his back.

Continue Reading

The first time she saw a man die

The first time she saw a man die
My father Anupam Kumar Shome and I. Srinagar, Kashmir. 1983

My father Anupam Kumar Shome and I. Srinagar, Kashmir. 1983 Image and Narrative contributed by Tillotama Shome, Mumbai In the early 80’s we lived in Rajbagh extension, near Zero Bridge in Srinagar, Kashmir. I was four years old and on my way to school with my father Anupam Kumar Shome. He was an Airforce officer. En route to school we got stuck in traffic. Apparently, there was a 'shoot out' up ahead. As the police cleared the traffic and guided us, I saw through the arches of crowded human legs, a body of a dead man, drenched in blood. The contrast of the red blood against white of snow was inexplicable and I was witnessing the lifelessness of death for the first time. My father shepherded me back home. His face was gaunt and I kept crying all the way back home. The same day he took me out for a ride in a boat and suddenly said, “You saw what happened today? It is all because of religion.” I had no idea who religion was, the names of religion’s parents, where he or she lived, what he or she did for a living, why he or she killed that man or did not save him. I was only four. I just cried. Because of what he may have seen and experienced, I think my father had come to a conclusion and a decision that religion brings grief, so Hindu spiritual ceremonies or references like Pujas, pundits, shradhs, kundli (astrology), and havans were never a welcome guest in our household. My religion or requirement of some faith, became the need to be aware of the consequences of my actions, my thoughts…

Continue Reading
Close Menu