Ratilal Narandas Gami of 'Tobacco Katra', Delhi

 

This is a trade label in the name of Ratilal Narandas Gami from Shahjahanabad/'Old' Delhi’s Tobacco Katra (‘katra’ is loosely translated as ‘quarters’). This lithographic print label is from the 1930s or 40s and taps into Hindu mythology – Lord Krishna defeating (and dancing upon) the multi-headed serpent Kaliya.

 

From what I’ve been able to gather after looking at the history of Indian patents, Narandas Gami was the name of a dye business in Delhi. The mercantile family was originally from Gujarat and like many others expanded their business operations to the Imperial capital. The incorporation of Hindu mythology may have also been strategic. The pure Krishna defeats the impure serpent poisoning the waters of the Yamuna. A useful idiom for a dye company?

 

Now, why choose the ‘Tobacco’ Katra for a dye business, you might ask? Well, this was a longstanding practice in North Indian cities where the names of places did not necessarily correspond with the occupational practices or caste groups residing there. Indeed, as early as the 17^th and 18^th centuries, properties in mohallas (residential areas) or Katras were sold off to buyers from different occupational or caste backgrounds. Therefore, by the mid 20^th century, this would have been very common. 

 

Interestingly, Narandas Gami wasn’t only using familiar symbols and representations from Hindu mythology to market products. I have another label of theirs (below) that shows a lady in Medieval European armour, similar to Joan of Arc or Isabella of France. Here Katra tobacco isn’t mentioned at all. Perhaps this label meant that the business wanted to appeal to other audiences or exported their products? I will follow up if I have more on the latter.

 

See you next Friday.  

Khari Baoli and Connaught Place's 'Sherbet Naubahar'

This is a slightly delayed post, so my apologies. However, here is an interesting piece of early-mid 20^th century advertising. For all you sherbet fans out there, this is the ‘Sherbet Naubahar’ (translated as ‘Fresh Spring’ sherbet) sold by Harnarain Gopinath of Khari Baoli in Shahjahanabad/Old Delhi. The ad was featured in a magazine (unknown today) as a full-page spread. 

 

Harnarain Gopinath's business was established sometime in the late 19^th century. Today (as Harnarains) they are still in Khari Baoli and are distributors of pickles, jams and sherbets. This particular brand of sherbet however, appears to have disappeared off their product list. In the ad it also says they had a distribution centre in Connaught Place in New Delhi and that would mean two things. One, that this ad was placed after 1931 when the ‘New’ city was inaugurated and two, that with Gopinath's distribution centres in both Khari Baoli and Connaught Place, the business was expanding and the sherbets were popular. Indeed, from what I’ve gathered Sherbet Naubahar was endorsed by actors/celebrities all the way until the 1960s indicating a solid market. 

 

Interestingly, Naubahar was presented as a secular drink meant for Hindus and Muslims. It says ‘chahe use thakurji ko bhog lagayein ya rozon ki iftari mein noosh farmayein’. In other words, you could use it to offer oblations (for Hindus) or for Iftar (Muslims). Sherbets seemed (at least until recently) to have escaped the categorisation as purely religious drinks and Naubahar was part of that trend. More generally, it presents itself as an elixir, rejuvenating the body and soul (perhaps that was the reason for its cross cutting appeal).

 

Well that's it from me today, I'll see you Friday next week. 

House Taxes and Postcards in Delhi

 

Pay your House Tax bill by postcard? Yes, exactly what this is, a Delhi House Tax bill from 1944! I never thought I’d see the day when a tax bill would catch my fancy but here we are. This intriguing little item was posted at Chandni Chowk in August 1944. 

 

I’ve previously written about the production and consumption of postcards in Delhi, their use as business advertisements and how these material artefacts collapsed distances and forged commercial networks. This on the other hand is another category of postcard used by the state for its everyday operations in Delhi. It is printed in Urdu and was issued by the Municipal Corporation of Delhi’s ‘Tax Department’. This is what it says above. On the other side are ‘important instructions’ (for timely payment, of course) listed as ‘Zaroori Hidayat’. You can see this below along with the King Emperor’s seal/stamp. What I’ve been able to make out is that the recipient/taxpayer was resident in the locality of Ballimaran (which was also the residence of the famous 19^thcentury poet, Mirza Ghalib). 

 

What can this tell us about Delhi in the mid-twentieth century? Conclusions can only be tentative here but let’s give it a go. For one, it seems that postcards form a part of administrative machinery; they were a printed in bulk by the likes of the Municipality in the 1940s. I’m not sure if Delhiwallas were always happy to receive bills but the Municipality found this a cost-effective way of targeting those liable for house taxes. The reason I say that Delhiwallas weren’t always happy is because at the end of the previous century and in the early 20^th, the Municipality was at the receiving end of an agitation against the house tax which was first imposed for the payment of a drainage scheme. I’ve written about the municipality’s escapades earlier and suffice to say, the house tax was dreaded by residents and the Municipality spent much time and resources ensuring compliancy. It seems in the 1940s, the postcard was at the forefront of the administration it built to ensure that taxes on houses were paid. 

 

Right, the other side of the card is below. I will see you next Friday. 

Mirza Elahi Baksh and the Akbarabadi Masjid

 

I thought I’d pick up from where I’d left last week in connection with the Akbarabadi Masjid. The man pictured above is Mirza Elahi Baksh and is surrounded by his sons. Elahi Baksh was a Shahzada (prince) of the Mughal family and by the time this picture was taken in the 1860s he was recognised as the titular head of the Mughals in Delhi. This was in large part because he supported the British government during the Rebellion of 1857 and well, the rest of the Mughals either fled, were murdered or deported such as Bahadur Shah, the last emperor.

 

What does this have to do with the Akbarabadi Masjid? Well, in the 1860s, local newspapers reported that Elahi Baksh had claimed compensation for its destruction to the tune of 3 lakh rupees. Allegedly, he had earlier asked for the rubble to made over to him for the construction of a new mosque. That’s not all, it was also alleged that as the property of his ancestors, Elahi Baksh claimed possession of Humayun’s Tomb, the Qutub, Lal Bangla (the mausoleum of the erstwhile Mughal Emperor Jahandar Shah’s consort, Lal Kunwar) and the Madrassa of Ghaziuddin, then known as The Delhi College! This was wishful thinking of course but Elahi Baksh did receive a pension from the government which included several villages on the outskirts of Delhi. 

 

As I mentioned in a previous post, ‘compensation’ was the name of the game in the 1860s, and meant everything from a reward for service during the Rebellion to renumeration for material losses sustained during the same. Chancers masqueraded as claimants and Elahi Baksh’s story is but one of several from the time.

 

As the Akbarabadi Masjid is long gone and we don’t have any photographic evidence of it, here is a drawing featured in ‘Asar us Sanadid’ (Vestiges of the Great), a guidebook by the famous Delhiwala, Sir Syed Ahmad Khan. This was first published in 1847.

See you next Friday. 

The Museum and Town Hall

 

The ‘Museum’ in this picture postcard was part of what is today known as the ‘Town Hall’ in Shahjahanabad/’Old’ Delhi. The Town Hall was in the news recently and I believe plans to turn it into a heritage hotel have been shelved for the time being. An opportune moment for a post, I'd say. 

 

After subduing the rebels in 1857 and securing Delhi, British authorities constructed the Town Hall with its museum, library and research institute. A sizeable area replete with Mughal buildings was demolished and, in its place, came neo-classical columns and a statue dedicated to Queen Victoria. All of these were reminders of European dominance and superiority in the aftermath of the fighting. The back of this postcard also presents a grim reminder of some British attitudes at the time and is racist to say the least (see image below).  

 

I’ve come across newspaper reports from the 1860s in which it is noted that the masonry /rubble from the Akbarabadi Mosque (built in 1650 but destroyed in 1858 after the capture of Delhi) was used to construct the Town Hall. This is again more evidence of the kind of heated atmosphere that prevailed after the Rebellion and the violence through which the Institute/Town Hall was birthed. 

  

See you next Friday for more on Delhi’s history.