Delhi Junction Railway Station

 

This picture is of the Delhi Junction Railway Station (now referred to as the ‘Old Delhi Railway Station’) as it was in the 1940s. I came across this image on the internet but as with the other photographs I’ve written about, it would have likely been part of a series of images, in an album perhaps. 

 

In some ways, the beginning of the railways in Delhi was an act of ‘creative destruction’ as the Geographer David Harvey would suggest. Old Mughal mohallas and katras were knocked out after 1857 and in came new grids of iron and transport with the hopes of financial profitability and commerce. However, railway station in Delhi was also instituted as an act of punishment for the city. Since Delhi was a flashpoint during Rebellion of 1857, the railways cut through the heart of the city and divided it into two. The elite and predominantly white area of ‘Civil Lines’ to the north of Delhi was protected by railway lines and the station became a defensive frontier to mobilise troops in case of a threat from the south.

 

Yet, by the 1890s the railways would feature in the administrative imagination as a way of reshaping the city for the future. In my book I examine a plan laid out by a British official called Robert Clarke to manage flows and traffic in Delhi because he anticipated that the city was on the cusp of becoming a great railway centre and mercantile hub. He strategically drafted a faux Mughal burj (tower) in his plans – a ruin in a garden setting- to redirect traffic heading to the railway station by redesigning the Queens Gardens (today the area is known as the Mahatma Gandhi Park and Azad Park, respectively). This was his pièce de resistance (see my rendition of his plan below) and worked to draw in pedestrian traffic whilst keeping out who he felt were undesirables. The gardens became compact ensuring better policing and were locked at night from ‘thieves and disreputable characters’. Such were the plans in the 1890s.

 

More on Delhi’s railway modernity in due course. 

Ganesh Flour Mills

This postcard of the Ganesh Flour Mill/s forms some of the rare pictorial evidence we have on Delhi’s industrial growth in the late 19^th century. If you look closely, you can see the proprietors of the Mill on the top right-hand side of the postcard and the mill hands to the bottom left. The architecture and style of the mill is reminiscent of Victorian mills in England and the picture alludes to a new mechanised future for the city and country at large.  

In 1912, Ganesh Flour Mills, located in Sabzi Mandi was one of four ‘big’ flour mills in Delhi. The others being ‘Delhi and Northern India Flour Mills’, ‘Diamon Jubilee Flour Mills’ and ‘John’s Flour Mills’. They produced flour, bran and suji for consumption across India to the value of 50 lakh rupees. However, at the time the four big mills had only 300 employees in total! This was far less than other mechanised industries in Delhi, such as cotton mills which had more than 2,500 people working in 20 mills by the turn of the century. 

 

Historian Narayani Gupta suggests that labour procurement was difficult for Delhi’s Mills and as a result mill hands from Rajasthan laboured in the flour mills for example. Indeed, there is evidence to suggest that areas like Sabzi Mandi and Teliwara saw an increase in migrant populations in the late 19^th and early 20^th century which was associated with mill work.  

 

So, what happens to Ganesh Flour Mills you might wonder? Well, from Rotem Geva’s work on Delhi we learn that the mills were looted during the Quit India movement in 1942 because of food shortages during the war – prices were high and the mills became a symbol of the British government’s callousness. Subsequently, it seems Ganesh Flour Mills continued as a private undertaking until 1984, when it was nationalised by the Government of India (If you have any further information on the fortunes of Ganesh Flour Mills, do get in touch!)

See you next week.

Museum Darulfalah of Delhi

We know that photographs, postcards and other ephemera became collectors' items. Through global networks of empire, these objects eventually made their way into museums and were prized and displayed. But what about the 'natives' or Indians in this story? And what does this have to do with Delhi?

Well, that's where the Museum Darulfalah of Delhi comes in! The image above is an envelope of a local museum that was set up in Sadar Bazar, sometime during the early 20th century. Its proprietors were Delhiwallas, most likely, and ran it as an antique dealership - where 'curious of the world' were 'purchased and sold'. It also looks as if the museum was financially sound. Its seal and stationary attest to this as does the fact that the letter was sent all the way to Florida (!)

What was in the museum, you might ask? We don't really know except for one fascinating bit of evidence. Its signature export was a grain of 'wonderful rice' which was inscribed with verses from the Holy Quran. This seed of rice which was gifted to patrons in different parts of the empire and beyond. Have a look at this piece on the British Library's blog with more information: wonderful-rice.html

Part of Museum Darulfalah's success appears to be the wealthy patrons it cultivated. The letter for one, clearly indicates that the Museum was targeting men of stature who perhaps bought other curious from the museum. I have more questions than answers at this point - what did the practice of selling or buying curious mean to the proprietors? Was this part of a larger network of Indians engaged in such businesses? 

Anyhow, I have little knowledge of what eventually happened to the museum. There is evidence that it shifted its base (or added a new one) to New Delhi after the 1930s but the trail is cold thereafter. If you have any information about this, I would love to know! Thanks for reading.

Troops at the Red Fort

This is a picture from the early 1930s of British troops stationed at the Red Fort. The soldiers in their ‘sola topees’ (pith helmets meant for India) marching for a changeover in duties, presumably. The photograph doesn’t have much more detail than this and is an isolated image taken from what would have been an album. 

 

It is well documented that Delhi’s ‘Red Fort’ got its name to commemorate a political transformation. It changed from the Mughal ‘palace’ to a British fortification after the Rebellion of 1857. British troops were garrisoned in the area, one the one hand, to keep themselves distinct and safe from Delhi’s residents. On the other, they were there to stem any insurrection that might occur in the city. There was also a 400 yard ‘firing line’ kept clear of habitation between the Fort and the lived city. Of course, we know from historical work that any sort of distance between the ‘natives’ and ‘Europeans’ dissolved quickly. There are plenty of records on the spread of venereal disease in British troops in Delhi, for example. 

 

Anyhow, I’ve come across a few images on garrison activities in the Fort (all isolated though). The others are quite similar– troops parading either inside the Fort or assembled in Firing line area for drills. Yet there are some exceptions such as pictures of heavy armoured cars and tanks from the 1930s. The latter would have likely been mobilised as a show of force after the Civil Disobedience movements in India and kept in Delhi, especially as a new capital city was inaugurated in 1931. 

 

Indeed, troops would continue to be present in Delhi during the Second World War. Interestingly, the were joined by American GIs, loads of them. More on this another day. 

 

I’ll leave you with another picture of British troops posing for a picture at Delhi’s railway station (?) from the 1930s.