'Hello Chaps! This is Delhi', 1940s. Part 2.

 

This is a second post on the guide Hello Chaps! This is Delhi. This week, I've taken a section of the guide which is replete with instructions on the norms that should guide 'making friends' with women in India. The text is particularly fascinating because wartime Delhi had created a situation in which large numbers of British (and American) servicemen found themselves in the city, in such numbers as never before. And they sought company during their recreational time. In this context, the guide prescribes a set of codes through which servicemen could distinguish themselves as proper British 'men', producing a gendered framework of rules and comportment in a foreign (read 'Oriental') environment. As the guide explains:

 "...But this isn't England or the States, and "Hullo Baby" or "Hi Toots" are not the ideal opening moves for you here. Definitely not. Women who are accustomed to male friends outside their home circle and community aren't numerous and even the freest of them over here do not dispense with the formality of an introduction! Indian women don't as a rule go out with foreigners. But there are quite a large number of quire modern misses around the place - European, Anglo-Indians and evacuees who include Anglo Burmans, Burmans and others....Once you get to know the crowd who are ready to make friends with you, you'll find them a cheery, sociable lot, just as keen on a movie, sing-song, dance or picnic as the ones at home And families don't object to a well behaved boy friend. Here, as elsewhere you'll find people try to give you your due for what you are and not to pay too much attention to the rank badges you wear"

I'll leave you with an image from the guide of servicemen at the 'viceregal estate' in 1945.

'Hello Chaps! This is Delhi', 1940s.

This is the first in a series of posts on British servicemen in Delhi during the Second World War, viewed through the lens of a guide issued at the behest of General Claude Auchinleck, Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Forces. The guide, Hello Chaps! This is Delhi, offers a fascinating template for how the British officer class was encouraged to engage with the city.

It was financed entirely by Khan Sahib S. Rashid Ahmed, a Delhi-born grandson of Sir Syed Ahmed Khan, who, although best known for his ‘Aligarh movement’ and the M.A.O College, had himself written early “guides” to Delhi under the East India Company. The booklet was distributed free of charge to all servicemen stationed in Delhi during the war. 

Meant for easy reading, the guide is replete with puns and military humour. For example, one chapter has a title that calls Delhi the 'Cockpit of India’. In general, Delhi’s history, culture, and attractions, and of course, the new capital city are all highlighted for the reader. Interestingly, the guide also contains quirks that reveal shifting wartime attitudes toward navigating an Indian city. For instance, unlike earlier guides or handbooks that recommended learning Hindustani phrases to interact with locals, this wartime guide discourages such efforts. Instead, it reassures readers that “they don’t expect you to know good Hindustani or Urdu, and you will find that long experience of dealing with tourists has familiarised them with many English words and expressions.” New sentiments for wartime?

Anyhow, I’ll post about another section of the guide next week. See you then.

Delhi Railway Station in 1928

This 1928 photograph shows Delhi’s railway station in the distance, with sidings and a mix of goods and passenger carriages filling the foreground. There isn’t much information about where the image came from; the only note on it simply says “Delhi station, 1928.” 

Around this time, construction had begun on a new station for the imperial capital, located between Ajmeri Gate and Paharganj. As a result, the older station in the photograph began to be referred to as “Old Delhi railway station” in official records. And despite the advent of motor cars, the colonial government still leaned heavily on the railways as symbols of progress and modernity (despite their limitations and lack of reach in India). 

See you next week.

Delhi's Ashoka Hotel, 1962

 

An advertisement from 1962 for Delhi’s first post-independence hotel, the Ashoka Hotel. At the time, Ashoka was still relatively new, having opened in 1956. It quickly became the preferred address for top diplomats arriving in the capital. The hotel was state-owned, a pet project of Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, who envisioned it as a stage on which India could present itself as a confident young nation. Ashoka embodied the modern amenities and “international luxury”, as mentioned, that Nehru believed visitors should find in a newly independent India.

While Delhi already had several notable colonial-era hotels, most were located in or around what was now coming to be known as the “Old” city. The Ashoka was meant to be something different: a marker of what was new, forward-looking, and architecturally modern in the emerging diplomatic enclave of ‘New’ Delhi.

Since its creation, the city has seen an explosion of hotels catering to every kind of traveler, from domestic and foreign tourists, to backpackers and business delegations. However, the Ashoka remains a symbol of early postcolonial aspirations to showcase India (and Delhi) on the world stage.

Tombs near Delhi, 1860s.

 

A picture from the National Galleries of Scotland titled ‘Tombs Near Delhi’. It comes from Eugene Impey’s album on India from the 1860s. Impey was a colonial official and, like Samuel Bourne (whom I’ve mentioned in earlier posts), an early photographic pioneer.

I’m not sure exactly where this is in Delhi, but unlike Bourne’s photographs of a depopulated city at the time, this one is interesting (perhaps an outlier for the time) as it shows a hive of activity around the tombs. There are people in the foreground, and in the distance on the left, others going about their everyday routines. On the right, there’s a blurred figure laying out a charpoy.

It’s possible this was an encampment, with Impey’s retinue of servants carrying on with their work. Or perhaps, as was often the case across India before tombs were turned into ‘monuments,’ this was simply a village, alive and inhabited, with the tombs woven into the fabric of daily life. 

Anyhow, I'll see you next week. 

Source- https://www.nationalgalleries.org/art-and-artists/29788?search=delhi&page=1&search_set_offset=69

A Cricket Match in Delhi - The Princes XI versus The Australian Services XI, 1945.

 For cricket aficionados, here’s a rare scorecard from November 1945 featuring a match between the Indian princes (Princes XI) and the Australian Services XI in Delhi. This scorecard comes from someone who attended the game and, remarkably, preserved newspaper clippings of the first innings as well (see below)!

The Australian Services XI was composed of military personnel stationed in India after the war, including A. L. Hassett and Keith Miller, both of whom would go on to enjoy stellar careers with the Australian national team. They faced off against Indian cricketing legends such as C. K. Nayudu, Lala Amarnath, Vijay Hazare, and Mushtaq Ali, among others.

The purpose of the Delhi match was to raise money for charity and to help revive the public image of cricket after its wartime hiatus. The Australian Services team was on its way home, with its itinerary including stops in several imperial cities. Of course, the apparent ‘normalcy’ of the cricket game must be read against the backdrop of the heated debates about India’s future and impending independence in the aftermath of the war.

Here are some more pictures:

  

Delhi's 'Ivory Palace', circa 1920s.

 A souvenir/ business card from the 1920s featuring Delhi’s 'Ivory Palace'. This also contains a turn of the century image of the shop near the Jama Masjid’s norther Gate. In the foreground you can see craftsmen at work, a tried and tested way to attract onlookers and spark interest.

The Ivory Palace was something of an institution in Delhi. Catering to foreign dignitaries and art collectors, it was also a patron of local craftsmen and jewellers that it took under its wing. The building had workshops and storage on its premises and occupied a fairly large plot. Moreover, like its competitors, Imre Schwaiger and the Indian Arts Palace (see previous posts), the Ivory Palace also supplied museums and international collectors across the world. 

By the 1920s, the business had diversified, venturing into the burgeoning photography market and supplying photographic materials and camera film.

The original premises of the Ivory Palace still stand today, now known by the founders’ names, Faqir Chand and Raghunath Das. However, the workshops appear to be shut, and the building lies derelict.

Any further information about the establishment would be greatly appreciated.

See you next week.