A Trick of the Light

I adore old photographs that preserve the past, even if they are dog-eared and yellowed with age. But when they are fresh and look as if they have just been pulled out of a tray in a darkroom where a single bulb burns a bright orange, then they are all the more delightful. While browsing through the Facebook timeline of an Indian journalist I had met in Cologne in 2002 on the occasion of the re-election of Gerhard Schroeder as chancellor of Germany, I came across a most intriguing clutch of photographs, which she wanted to share with her friends and which I would like to share with TFT readers. The illustrations, titled “Some Rare Pictures of Indian History”, had been culled from the formidable collection of Laxman Singh Bisht. They contained, among other things, memorabilia from a most exciting period – the years just before, during, and shortly after the Second World War.

When old photographs look as if they have just been pulled out of a tray in a darkroom, they are all the more delightful

I have always wanted to lay my hands on some of these pictures, especially ones such as these: Subhas Chandra Bose, fondly referred to as “Netaji”, meeting Adolf Hitler; Rabindranath Tagore posing with Albert Einstein; Phoolan Devi, cartridge belt slung across her chest, clutching a rifle, caught on camera in the 1980s. There is also the stunning Seeta Devi, star of the silent screen, in a clip from 1925. It was a case of pure serendipity – a rich pictorial harvest for the history buff.

Other pictures I found fascinating included one of the Begum of Bhopal escorting the Prince of Wales, Edward VIII; Indira Gandhi, Charlie Chaplin, and Pandit Nehru gazing out on the verdant valley below; Bose posing with his German wife Emilie in Austria in 1937; Dilip Kumar trying out a martial arts grip on Raj Kapoor (much to the amusement of a dashing young Dev Anand); the lovely Madhubala, looking more seductive than ever before; and a pensive Nilofer Farhat Begum (1916–1989), one of the last Ottoman princesses, who married the second son of the last Nizam of Hyderabad.

There are scores of other riveting pictures, which include a dead Chandrashekhar Azad; train travel in 1930; a vintage Rolls Royce outside a showroom; hordes of people crossing the Howrah Bridge in 1953; various individuals involved in the Lahore Conspiracy Case after which Bhagat Singh was hanged; Sarla Thakral, the first Indian female pilot; three generations of the Tatas; a crisp portrait of Flora Fountain, Bombay, in 1880 – the picture of genteel living; an opera house in Bangalore; the first Indian cricket team; and the attractive Zeenat Aman, whose film career followed her debut as runner-up in the 1970 Miss India beauty contest.

There are also sharp pictures of the abject poverty and hunger that existed under the Raj, with skeletal, lifeless bodies lying next to dead dogs under a merciless sky, and victims about to be hanged. There are also a host of pictures of Indian politicians in local garb, with white cotton caps on their heads, taking part in various peaceful protest meetings, conferences, and other gatherings – or just stirring up rebellion. And finally, a string of Indian currency notes and coins of various denominations, some bearing portraits of the British King-Emperor.

It was an exercise I won’t forget in a hurry.