A Family of Freedom Fighters

A Family of Freedom Fighters
My husband, Bijoy Sharma, standing extreme right, with his family. Bamungaon, Assam. Circa 1942 

It is unusual to see Bijoy clothed in a North Indian Dhoti (loose drape pants) because most young boys his age wore half pants. Apparently he had begun to dress like an adult to display his commitment to the independence struggle; perhaps he felt that serious work required an adult attire. And he was not alone in his commitment - several leaders of the Independence movement had recruited large numbers of young boys to act as secret messengers to deliver letters in nearby towns and villages. Whenever the policemen came around on suspicion and to arrest Bijoy (they would come around often) his proud mother Pareshwari Devi would instruct Bijoy - “If you sign any police papers for an early release, do not come back to this house”.

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The man who sold Polka Dots to the World

The man who sold Polka Dots to the World
The Goregaon Gram Panchayat Ration Staff, on the occasion of Gudi Padwa. Bombay, Maharashtra. 1949

The Goregaon Gram Panchayat Ration Staff, on the occasion of Gudi Padwa. Bombay, Maharashtra. 1949 Image and Narrative contributed by Umang Shah, Mumbai This photograph was taken on the occasion of Gudi Padwa. Sitting left most is my Great Grandfather, Mr. Tulsidas K. Shah. He was born in Mangrol, Saurashtra, near Junagad district, Gujarat. He was brought up by his aunt when his parents passed away. As a teenager, he went to Bombay and started working as a peon in a cloth shop at Mangaldas market, near Princess street. He lived right above the shop. My Great grandfather was sharp & ambitious and he soon became a co-partner of the same shop. Their business was printing 'Polka Dots' on cotton clothes. A style very much in demand world wide at the time. With increasing demands for textile exports during the World War II, their business boomed, they prospered and were hailed as the no. 1 in their business. We are told that his wife and children bought and wore new clothes everyday! My grandfather tells me that his father were born with a 'golden spoon'. However, after 2 years the downfall began. Now that the World War II had ended, they suffered huge losses in the business (It had earlier given a huge boost to the sagging textile industry of Gujarat and Maharashtra). His partners fled. But my great grandfather being an honest man, stayed on and paid all the debt by himself. But it wasn't without problems; the strain had affected him mentally and he went back to Mangrol for some years. In 1945, he returned to Bombay with his family and started working in the Ration shop of the Goregaon Gram…

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A teenager couple’s fight for freedom

A teenager couple’s fight for freedom
My Grandmother Chameli Devi Jain and Grandfather Phool Chand Jain, shortly after their marriage. Delhi. Circa 1923

My Grandmother Chameli Devi Jain and Grandfather Phool Chand Jain, shortly after their marriage. Delhi. Circa 1923 Image and Narrative contributed by Sreenivasan Jain, Journalist, New Delhi Some text is paraphrased from the Book - Civil Disobedience : Two Freedom Struggles, One Life, memoirs of my father LC Jain, noted economist and Gandhian. This image was photographed in Delhi, shortly after my paternal grandparents Chameli and Phool Chand, got married. She was 14 and he was 16. It was unusual for couples in our family to be photographed, especially holding hands, which turned out to be an indication of the unconventional direction their lives would take. They were Gandhians and freedom fighters. The only visible reminder of her brush with the radical politics of the freedom movement was the milky cornea in her right eye, the result of an infection picked up in Lahore Jail where she had spent 4 months in 1932. Otherwise, she was Ammaji: gentle, almost luminous in her white saris, regular with her samaik (Jain prayer), someone who would take great pleasure, on our Sunday visits, to feed us dal chawal (rice and lentils) mixed with her own hands. My grandmother grew up in a village called Bahadarpur in Alwar, about four hours south of Delhi, in a deeply conservative Jain family. The family was locally influential; they were traders in cotton turbans, woven by local Muslim weavers and sold in Indore, Madhya Pradesh. They also were moneylenders. As with much of rural Rajasthan, the women were in purdah. Within two years of their marriage, their first child, my father, was born. Ammaji moved with my grandfather into the family home in the teeming bylanes of Dariba in Chandni Chowk. But he had developed a growing interest…

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