“A friend from my childhood I had never met”

“A friend from my childhood I had never met”
My Letter to Jean Christophes. Bombay. August 10, 1972.

My Letter to Jean Christophes. Bombay. August 10, 1972. Letter & Narrative contributed by Denzil Smith, Mumbai This letter carries with it an amazing story that always has me grin ear to ear with joy. My family are Anglo Indians and until a few years ago lived in a family bungalow in Ville Parle in Bombay. My father Benjamin John Smith was a Customs officer in Bombay and perhaps one of the few honest black sheep amongst the white embroiled in dishonest deeds. To get relief from tough days at the office, my father would find release with music. He was adept at both reading and writing music, played several instruments and when opportunity called he even travelled with the famed Paranjoti Choir all over the world. At one such opportunity he travelled to Tours in France with the choir in 1966. The members of the choir were usually put up by local classical music aficionados at their homes in each city; and a certain Dr. Boulard and his family were to be my father's kind hosts in Tours.The day my father reached the Doctor’s mansion, eagerly awaiting him at the gate was the Doctor’s son, a 6 year old French boy, Jean, who had waited for my father in anticipation of seeing an Indian for three whole days. 
At first sight and to his shock the boy ran inside and wept copiously to his father, complaining “Where are his feathers!?” Clearly my brown father in a suit and tie was not the "Indian" he was expecting. Despite the initial disappointment, my father and Jean became very fond of each other and when he returned to India, dad told me that Jean…

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A visit to the Taj Mahal after returning an abducted girl to her family

A visit to the Taj Mahal after returning an abducted girl to her family
My mother Meenakshi Surve posing by the Taj Mahal. Agra, Uttar Pradesh. 1978

My mother Meenakshi Surve posing by the Taj Mahal. Agra, Uttar Pradesh. 1978 Image and Narrative contributed by Vaibhav Bhosle, Mumbai At the time this photograph was taken, my mother was in her third year of her employment with the State Police of Maharashtra and was on an official trip to Agra. The purpose of this journey was to return an abducted girl, a native of Uttar Pradesh who was found and rescued by the police in Bombay (Mumbai). After the girl was returned safely to her parents, my mother Meenakshi and a female colleague accompanied by a male senior staff had a few hours to spare before their train's departure to Bombay. My mother wanted to visit the Agra Fort but her colleague wanted to see the Taj Mahal. Eventually she agreed to visit the Taj Mahal, where this picture was taken by a local photographer. My mother is the second eldest amongst five siblings, and was born to Yashwant & Shalini Surve in Chiplun, a sleepy village at the time in Ratnagiri, Maharashtra. When my grandfather Yashwant, a farmer, suffered huge losses in his grocery business, he had no choice but to relocate to Bombay in search for a better job. My grandmother along with all the children moved to her maternal home and took up odd farm jobs to add to the sustenance. After many years of struggling, my grandfather eventually did find a job in Dalda company and could afford a princely sum of Rs 500 to buy an apartment in the suburbs of Bombay, only then he had his family to move to Bombay. New to a big city, and with five children, my grandparents' means…

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His advise helped manifest one of India’s most famous songs

His advise helped manifest one of India’s most famous songs
My grand-aunt, RD Burman and my granduncle on the Burman Terrace, Calcutta, West Bengal. 1975

My grand-aunt, RD Burman and my granduncle on the Burman Terrace, Bombay, Maharashtra. 1975 Image and Narrative contributed by Anupam Mukerji, Mumbai This picture was photographed on the terrace of R.D Burman's home in Bombay.R.D Burman was one of India's finest Music composers of the Indian Film Industry. With him are my grand-uncle Nirmal Kumar Dasgupta and his wife Shukla.RD, whom he lovingly called Tublu, was the apple of my granduncle's eye. RD loved him back equally calling him Moni Dadu. R.D Burman's mother was my grand uncle's sister, technically a niece, but since they were closer in age the relationship was like a close sibling. In March of 1975, Moni Dadu and family were visiting R.D Burman. RD was busy recording the soundtrack for now India's biggest box office hit film ever, Sholay. On this morning, sitting on his terrace, RD was playing back for Moni Dadu the scratch recording (rough recording) of his now exceptionally famous song Mehbooba Mehbooba. He had been recording the song through the night. RD had recorded the song in his own voice, even though the final song was to be recorded in Kishore Kumar's. Liking what he had just heard, Moni Dadu advised RD to keep the song in his voice. As fate would have it, Moni Dadu's wish was granted. Kishore Kumar was late for the recording of Mehbooba Mehbooba and RD decided to record the song himself. As we say the rest is history. From the 1960s to the 1990s, R.D Burman composed scores for 331 movies and influenced a generation of Indian music directors. He would have been 73 today, on June 27, 2012.

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In love until their last days

In love until their last days
My maternal grandparents, Kali Pada & Sukriti Chakrabertti with their daughters, son and several nephews & nieces. Calcutta, West Bengal. 1970

My maternal grandparents, Kali Pada & Sukriti Chakrabertti with their daughters, son and several nephews & nieces. Calcutta, West Bengal. 1970 Image and Narrative contributed by Anupam Mukerji, Mumbai This picture was photographed on March 9, 1970 on the occasion of my maternal grandparents Kali Pada and Sukriti Chakrabertti's 25th marriage anniversary (seated middle), at their home, 63, PG Hossain Shah Road, Jadavpur, Calcutta (now Kolkata). Here, they are with their daughters Sarbari, Bansari and Kajori, their son Sovan, and several nephews and nieces. After graduating from school with a gold medal in East Bengal's Dhaka Bickrampore Bhagyakul district, the young teenager, Kali Pada Chakraberti moved to Calcutta. He began working while continuing his education in an evening college. The office he worked at was also his shelter for the night. Desperate for money to pay his college examination fees, he went to a pawn-shop in Calcutta's Bow Bazaar to sell his gold medal. The pawn broker at the shop however was a gentle and generous elderly man. He lent my grandfather the money without mortgaging the gold medal. Years later when my grandfather went back to the shop to return the money, he found that his benefactor had passed away and his son refused to accept the money stating he couldn't, because his father had left no records of that loan. My grandfather then established  a Trust with that money to help underprivileged students with their education. Bhai, as all his grandchildren fondly called him, graduated from college with distinction and built a successful career in the field of Insurance. He rose to a senior position in a public sector insurance company. He also bought a plot of land in Jadavpur and built the…

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The day my father committed to marrying my mother

The day my father committed to marrying my mother
My father, Ranjan Sarkar, Västerås, Sweden, 1970

My father, Ranjan Sarkar, Västerås, Sweden, 1970 Image and Narrative contributed by Jaydeep Sarkar, Mumbai This picture was taken a year before my parent's marriage. My father, Ranjan Sarkar, had moved to Sweden from Calcutta, in 1968, with his first job as an Engineer with ASEA.   The first child from his generation to work outside of India, my grandmother was particularly concerned about his single life and urged her elder children to find a match for my father. At that time, he was thirty, and only a thirty year old bachelor in the family could be a cause for such 'epic concern'.   Pictures of prospective brides would be sent to my father by mail, for his consideration. Unsure about committing to marriage, he would resist taking a decision on any of the pictures.   Finally my eldest aunt (my father's eldest brother's wife) sent him a letter loaded with melodramatic words of emotional blackmail, urging him to get married, for his "own sake and that of the family". With the letter, came another set of five pictures. My father's friend photographed him here on a Sunday with his Minolta camera, as he went through the letter and the five photographs that came with it. One of the pictures was that of my mother's, Jayshri Sengupta. Probably the one he is looking at in this image, or not. But it was on this day, that my father decided he was ready to commit to marriage.   A year later, my parents got married. They met each other for the first time, on the day of their wedding, at the 'mandap'.   The day was also momentous for another…

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