The twin cultural ambassadors of India

The twin cultural ambassadors of India
My grandfather S. Gurdial Singh (standing right) and his fraternal twin brother S Harminder Singh (standing second from left) with staff from the Consulat général de France (Embassy of France). Connaught Place, New Delhi. 1949

My grandfather S. Gurdial Singh (standing right) and his fraternal twin brother S Harminder Singh (standing second from left) with staff from the Consulat général de France (Embassy of France). Connaught Place, New Delhi. 1949 Image and Narrative contributed by Nona Walia, New Delhi This is photograph is of my grandfather S. Gurdial Singh (standing right) and his fraternal twin brother S Harminder Singh (standing second from left) with people from the Embassy of France in New Delhi in 1949. The brothers Gurdial and Harminder were born on August 1, 1916 in Wazirabad (now in Pakistan). The family was from a small town in Punjab, Chamkaur Sahib, where Guru Gobind Singh, the tenth Sikh guru’s, sons were sacrificed. The twins' architect father Bir Singh had helped build government and residential buildings in Lahore (now in Pakistan) and Chamkaur town. Bir Singh, my great grandfather had two wives, and the first wife had a daughter. The societal pressure for property distribution (the patriarchal line) was immense by his brothers, so he married Balwant Kaur, who gave birth to the twins with the blessing and prediction of a local saint in Punjab, Randhir Singh. The twins it turned out were quite unlike each other. Gurdial Singh was a introvert, and liberal hearted with a tight circle of friends. Harminder Singh was an extrovert, dynamic, social, philosopher who loved meeting the whos who. The twins were just eight years old when their 34 year old father Bir Singh passed away and they were brought up by their mother, Balwant Kaur. Their spirit made them known for their strength, as Harminder (known as Kirpal Singh then) would daringly go swimming in the Ropar canal…

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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 chosen NCC cadet of Punjab Contingent

The chosen NCC cadet of Punjab Contingent
Shavinder Kaur, New Delhi. 1967

Shavinder Kaur, New Delhi. 1967 Image and Narrative contributed by Shavinder Kaur, Mumbai. I was a 20 year old NCC Cadet (National Cadet Corps) of the Punjab Contingent and this picture in the ceremonial NCC Blazer was given to all the cadets who had been photographed for their participation in the Republic Day Parade and camp. I remember that cold January 26 - Republic Day of 1967 clearly. It was very cold, and we were all up at 4.30 am to get into our crisp khakis and shiny marching boots. Everyone glowed with pride and excitement, and were set for a 10 kms march from Rashtrapati Bhavan to India Gate via Rajpath. It was after all the Republic Day Parade and we were the chosen ones, representing our respective contingents. I was at that time a Senior Under Officer and led the Punjab, Haryana, Himachal and Chandigarh Contingent.
 It was a very coveted position to be at. Among the thousands of countrymen and women who had flocked to see the celebrations, my mother too had traveled all the way from Jullundur, Punjab to watch me march. The NCC in those days was a very coveted organisation. Thousands of young people aspired to join the NCC, while in school and college. The Sino-Indian war of 1962  & Indo-Pakistani war of 1965 had brought about a renewed sense of national pride among the young. NCC also offered opportunities to engage in adventure activities, cultural and sporting events as well as traveling and seeing new places. The preparations for the Republic Day Parade began more than a month in advance - Three weeks at our regional headquarters in Chandigarh and three weeks at New Delhi.  The camp…

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“I lied to the Prime Minister of the country.”

“I lied to the Prime Minister of the country.”
From Rajiv Gandhi to me. New Delhi. December 1, 1985

From Rajiv Gandhi to me. New Delhi. December 1, 1985 Letter and Narrative contributed by Swati Bhattacharya, Gurgaon Blame it on my only child-ness if you must, but I love famous people loving me. I like provoking intimacy. But only from the jet-setting beau monde. I crave intimacy from people who have no business to get intimate with me. After coming back from school (Delhi Public School R.K.Puram), and doing the stuff I had to do, I'd sit down and think of writing to someone. The first person I had written to was Hiroko Nagasaki, a Japanese 13 year old swimmer who had swept the Asian Games in 1983. She and I became pen-pals for the next two years. She'd send me paper stickers, perfumed erasers and then one day in school somebody stole my Hiroko box. Traumatic as it was, I quickly recovered because by then I had received a flowery handmade-paper letter all the way from 22, Zaman Park, Lahore, Pakistan. Imran Khan, the famous cricketer, had written to me. The letter became my raison d'etre for a while. The fact that love does find a way, the fact that the letter had 18 red flowers printed at the back, and the fact that it had been signed as 'Imran' and not 'Imran Khan', to me it was a sign of a cosmic connection. We were meant to be and all that...Anyway, I lost this letter in a crowded Mudrika bus, while doing my nth show and tell. The letter I am sharing with you is one that still lives with me. Born out of jealousy, it got written in the November of 1985, when newspapers were full of Rajiv Gandhi writing to a Sri Lankan kid. The TV cameras had gone loooking for her and captured…

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The Goud Saraswat Brahmins who converted to Catholicism

The Goud Saraswat Brahmins who converted to Catholicism
My parents and my brothers at my Christening. Sacred Heart Church, Santa Cruz, Bombay. 1971

My parents and my brothers at my Christening. Sacred Heart Church, Santa Cruz, Bombay. 1971 Image and Narrative contributed by Wanda Naomi Rau, Mumbai This was an image taken at my christening at the Sacred Heart Church in Santa Cruz, Bombay. My father had invited 100 people to celebrate that I, a girl was born 9 years after 2 boys. My brothers even got the day off school. It was tradition in Goa to have at least one son carry the family name and another follow priesthood. My father Jose Luis Alvaro Remedios, from Saligao, Goa was to become a priest, since his older brother Hubert had moved to Bombay to pursue his Masters at St Xavier's College. Hubert, unfortunately died of Typhoid around the 1940's and my father had to leave the Seminary. However, The Seminary takes you through a tough academic route which covers both main stream subjects and theological studies. Perhaps his significant learning was that of Latin, which I regret I did not learn from my Father. However I think my love for history, academia and music is inextricably linked to my Father's genes. My father moved to Bombay to look for a job. He began working with Reserve Bank of India, and held the job for 38 odd years until he retired as the Asst. Financial Controller. He met my mum, Maria Aida Bertila Silveira from St. Mathias, Goa, through a formal proposal. My Mum was 30 years old and he was 35 when they got married. They lived in Byculla for the early years and then moved to the Reserve Bank Quarters in Santa Cruz. My Mum was a home maker and raised 2 boys and…

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