Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

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Portrait

One of the one per cent in 13 million.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Four months after finishing his term as the Vice Chancellor of Delhi’s Jamia Millia Islamia University, Professor Mushirul Hasan, 60, is scheming for the afternoon. Sitting in his wife’s study, surrounded by books that he wrote, India’s leading historian is talking to a friend on phone. The Delhi Walla overhears him saying, “Let's meet at 2pm... India International Center…”

While Prof. Hasan has been in Jamia for 30 years, he has lived miles away in Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU). His wife, Zoya, a JNU professor, has an official residence here - amid trees, rocks and hillocks. In mornings, peacocks visit their garden. For the professor, this idyllic surrounding constitutes Delhi, apart from the Jamia University campus.

After completing his Masters from Aligarh Muslim University and PhD from Cambridge, he became Jamia’s youngest professor at 31 and went on to serve as the University’s Dean, Pro-Vice Chancellor and Vice Chancellor. In September, 2009, he left the office intending to focus on the Academy of Third World Studies, a research institute in Jamia that he helped founded in 1988 and of which he remains the director. Now he is not sure. “I may take a break for a year,” he says, "and go abroad."

The professor is a globe-trotter. Next week he is leaving for Jerusalem to speak in a conference. Last month he was in Paris. For a real break, he may choose London. There Prof. Hasan walks around without a care; strolling in Oxford Circus, Russell Square, Kings Cross; spending hours in the British Library. “Other European capitals are equally magnificent but London, and possibly Rome, are the only hospitable cities in that continent,” he says.

But it was Delhi that turned this bookish man into one of India's most respected historians. Here Prof. Hasan began his academic career as a lecturer in Ram Lal Anand College, Delhi University. He later taught in Ramjas College before leaving for a doctorate in UK. That was his first trip to the West. "I was excited, but also scared, afraid of the unknown." Not long after his return, he joined Jamia where he "remained stuck".

In the old days, lecturer Hasan rode on a Java mobike. Jamia was an underdeveloped backyard. Holy Family Hospital was the only landmark. There was no New Friends Colony Community Center. The young man would go to Sapru House library, near Mandi House. "That was our adda," he says. "From there we friends would go to Connaught Place cinemas, or to the discos. There was one in the Regal building. Another was in GK."

Unlike the clichéd image of a booklover, Prof. Hasan is not a loner. For instance, he likes spending afternoons in Hauz Khas ruins, but with a person, not a book. "I like being in a company," he says, "Friendships matter to me." Most of his friends are senior journalists such as Saeed Naqvi and Satish Jacob. He often meets them in the hushed interiors of the India International Center, near Lodhi Garden.

However, since he ceased being a Vice-Chancellor, the professor has noticed a change in the attitude of a few acquaintances. "The world is with those in office but I have an intellectual agenda to pursue."

No, don't mistake the man to be your next-door intellectual - dull, drab and a know-it-all haughty. Unfailingly polite, Prof. Hasan never tosses off academic jargon; never throw around his high reputation. He has given houseful lectures in Paris, Virginia and Rome, but he made excellent coffee for me with no fuss. He inspires awe in academic circles, but to friends, he is just 'Mushir'; his wife calls him by his 'house name' - Pervez. While currently he is reading a heavy-duty book that compares Neville Chamberlain to Winston Churchill, he also enjoys the airport trash, such as Agatha Christie and John le Carré.

The professor thinks in English, but peppers his talk with amusing Urdu couplets. He is always ready to laugh. You won’t imagine that this man is living with a deeply felt loss. Prof. Hasan’s older brother, a journalist, was killed in a landmine blast while covering the Iran-Iraq war in 1983. “I was traumatized for years,” he says. “We were like close friends. In Aligarh, we participated in college debates together, travelled together, saw films together, and went out together with our respective girl friends.” Najmul Hasan lies buried in a graveyard in Saket, in south Delhi. Occasionally, Prof. Hasan drives there. “But life goes on.”

Since then Prof. Hasan has written several books on a variety of themes. From the intellectual history of Delhi in 19th century, to Kasbahs of Oudh, to the life of a Turkish woman novelist, to how India explored the West, to wit and humour in colonial India.

“The fact that one has written a great deal with a lot of hard work and that a lot of thinking and reflection has gone into it brings pleasure,” Prof. Hasan says while warning that writing books is not a guarantor of financial success. “You probably lose out on what you have earned but the ability to translate your understanding of the world into prose and reach out to 500, 1000, 3000 people is a cause of great satisfaction.”

Despite, or perhaps, because of being a historian’s son, Prof Hasan picked the reading habit on his own. As child, he devoured his father’s collection of classics, such as Gulliver’s Travels and Robinson Crusoe, before discovering Thomas Hardy and Bernard Shaw. Thanks to a neighbourhood barbershop, he got a hang of Urdu, his mother tongue. “There was this popular detective series by an author called Ibne Safi. It was stocked in hair cutting salons and you borrowed them for an anna a day. So I tried finishing it quickly and I often would. It had romance, comedy and always a murder.”

A few more years, and the professor found his passion: British philosopher Bertrand Russell. “He wrote without ambiguity and on many issues, from marriage to morality to conquest of happiness to philosophy. He was also a pacifist, an atheist, and an agnostic. He had a great impact on me.”

Over the years, Prof. Hasan’s reading interests progressed from fiction to non-fiction though he continued with Urdu fiction. “In her magnum opus Aag ka Darya, I liked Qurratulain Hyder’s skills in drawing fiction into the historical narrative,” he says. “Mixing the voices of the historian and the creative writer is an exercise I also enjoy doing. In my books, you will find this mix. Sometimes it may be jarring or counter productive, but, I think, it works quite nicely.”

It is this optimism that will keep Prof. Husain's incredible book factory running.

“You can fight the whole world simply on the strength of what you have received as knowledge in the course of your research and during the crafting of your history books,” he says. “And I believe this is what it has done to me."

[This is the fifth portrait of the Mission Delhi project]

Shh, professor is writing

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

In the kitchen

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

Making sense of the world

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

At home in the JNU campus

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

Professor's collection

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

Professor's own books

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

The lunch hour

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

Talking history

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

The garden view

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

Considering his next book?

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

In the study

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

On the desk

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

Waiting for the bus?

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

Shh, he is reading

Portrait

Happy writing, Prof. Hasan

Mission Delhi – Mushirul Hasan, JNU Campus

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

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Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Lest we forget.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Tuesday, December 29th, 2009. A cold, windy evening. Bhikaji Cama traffic light. A street performer. The little girl is barefoot. Please wish her a happy New Year.

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Wish her too

Photo Essay – Season’s Greetings, Bhikaji Cama Place

Monday, December 28, 2009

City Cinemas - SRS, JAM, BIG, MMX, G3S

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Hit Hai?

The PVRisation of film halls.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

DU, DUSU, CP, SN, DDLJ, GK1, RTI, SRK, SEZ, HC, SC, PMO, K3G… intimidated by acronyms and abbreviations? Try reading the schedule of city’s cinema halls in the newspaper. Rather than films, you will be more fascinated by the names of the theaters. DT in Shalimar Bagh. M4U and JAM in Ghazibad. PVR in Naraina. M2K in Rohini.

WIT?

That is: What is this?

Delhi has 99 screens in 56 cinemas, out of which 17 are multiplexes. So, imagine the plight of an SRK fan looking for a film at, say, EDM’s PVR. Don’t know what EDM is? It’s the East Delhi Mall, Anand Vihar. SRK stands for superstar Shah Rukh Khan. Don't ask about PVR.

In the Forties, there were less than 10 cinemas in town, almost all in Old Delhi, and all had names that were easy on the tongue — Ritz, Novelty, Regal. Delhiites called them by the area in which they were located, e.g. ‘Let’s go to Kashmere Gate’, since Ritz was there.

As more theatres cropped up in different parts of the city, the location-specific reference gave way to the theatre’s proper name. And they became landmarks of the area, rather than taking their identity from the area. For instance, the region around Filmistan talkies, just before Bara Hindu Rao Chowk, is simply called Filmistan.

In 1961, a gentleman named DC Kaushish opened India’s first 70mm theatre in Paharganj and named it after his wife, Sheila. Mrs Kaushish died in 2005 but Sheila theatre lives. Savitri, in GK-II, shut down years ago but the bus stop is still called ‘Savitri’. Sangam, at RK Puram, also comes in handy for giving directions.

But for the city’s new theatres, this is the age of ‘initialism’. It began when Ajay Bijli of Basant Lok’s Priya cinema started a venture with the Australian company Village Roadshow. The result was Priya Village Roadshow (PVR) Cinemas. The company turned Saket’s rundown Anupam theatre into India’s first multiplex. After 9/11, the Australians pulled out, but Mr Bijli retained the brand name and PVR-ised the city. His multiplexes popped up in places as far away as Prashant Vihar in north Delhi and Vikaspuri in west.

The multiplex chains are continuing with their forward march. They are growing and taking over older, standalone theatres, and, in the process, creating new names. In August, 2009, the 70-year-old Odeon cinema in Connaught Place opened as the two-screen Big Cinemas Odeon. (Big Cinemas is a division of the corporate subsidiary Adlabs Films.) Nearby Rivoli and Plaza had got their makeovers already, stamped with the brand that took control.

Inevitably, the city’s movie buffs are as spoilt for these abbreviated names as for films. Sample these: DT, SRS, JAM, BIG, MMX, M4U, M2K, G3S and 3C’s.

Exceptions occur. Opened in 1954, Delite cinema in Asaf Ali Marg was renovated half-a-century later with Spanish paint and Italian marbles. It, however, retains its original name. Until, perhaps, the next chain comes along.

... Outside Delite's box office

Box Office Flop

Friday, December 25, 2009

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

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City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

Mourning and celebrating.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

It is December 24th, 2009.

Late night. A few people — some of them historians, diplomats, designers, actors — are driving to Nizamuddin East, a neighbourhood near Humayun’s Tomb. The same night, a larger crowd, more varied, is heading to an address in Lodhi Road, a highway near Humayun’s Tomb.

The former will attend a soazkhwani majlis. The latter will attend a midnight mass. At author Sadia Dehlvi’s apartment. At the Centenary Methodist Church.

The occasion is Muharram. The occasion is Christmas.

Some are in skullcaps. Some are in Santa caps. They will mourn. They will celebrate. They will commemorate the martyrdom of Imam Hussain, the grandson of Prophet Muhammad. They will commemorate the birth of Jesus Christ, the son of God.

They have now reached C-Block, Nizamuddin East. They have now reached 25, Lodhi Road. They are sitting on mattresses. They are sitting on pews. They are singing marsiya, remembering the valour of Hussain. They are singing carols, remembering the birth of Christ. The language is Urdu. The language is Hindi. They are lamenting the Karbala battle, as described in the verses of Mir Anees, the 19th century Faizabad poet. They are cherishing the nativity scene, as described in the gospels of Matthew and Luke, Christ’s disciples. They are reading fatiha from the Quran. They are reading scriptures from the Bible.

The majlis is ending. The mass is ending. Haleem and aloo salan. Coffee and cakes.

They are Muslims, Christians and Hindus. And they are all Delhiwallas.

It's Muharram

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

It's Christmas

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

It's Muharram

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

It's Christmas

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

It's Muharram

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

It's Christmas

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

It's Muharram

Mother-Daughter

It's Christmas

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

It's Muharram

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

It's Christmas

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

Guess their religion

City Faith - Muharram & Christmas

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

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Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

One of the one per cent in 13 million.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

In a neighbourhood where most houses are small and over-crowded, Satnam Singh Juneja is the master of an eight-room address. All his walls are painted blue. But the home is unkempt. The bed sheet is crumpled. The dining table is dusty. In the courtyard, a Bajaj scooter stands rusting and an ancient spinbike looks defunct. “Being alone, I don’t take much interest in cleaning and upkeep,” the 69-year-old Sikh says. “For instance, I don’t mind going to bed even if I’m in a pant-shirt.”

Mr Juneja has been living in Pratap Street, a narrow lane in Daryaganj, for more than 40 years. A retired official of the Delhi government, he spends his day with newspapers and a black & white television. “I feel very lonely,” he says. “But I’ve no choice. I’m a divorcee.”

In the bedroom, a dog is taking a nap. “He is not a pet,” says Mr Juneja. The dog lives in the street but when sleepy, enters his home and climbs onto the bed, next to the Guru Granth Sahib, the Sikh holy book. Mr Juneja does not mind. “I feel good each time this dog comes and takes possession of my bed. He is like my custodian. When I’m asleep, he sneaks in to see if I’m safe.” There is also a cat somewhere. “I leave a bowl of milk for her on the stairs,” he says. “She knows and so always comes for it.”

Mr Juneja’s wife was a schoolteacher. When they separated in 1984, she moved to Model Town in north Delhi, and he was left with his mother. The old woman died three years ago. “I should have cared more for ma,” he says. “I miss her the most.”

Does he miss the ex-wife, too?

He searches for an answer before replying, “With time, memories fade.” He meets her on rare occasions, though. “She came to my mother’s funeral, and I attended her mother’s.”

Mr Juneja had a senior post in the government, retiring as an assistant director. “As chief entertainment tax inspector of Golcha and Delite, these cinemas could not sell a single ticket without my permission.” Both film theaters are within walking distance from his house. “Sometimes I watch films at Golcha,” he says. “But I don’t meet the authorities; instead, I stand in the queue and purchase a ticket secretly.”

Apart from occasional visits to the cinema, Mr Juneja rarely ventures beyond Daryaganj. “I avoid going out due to my financial constraint,” he says. “I never had much to save and pensions can only cover your hand-to-mouth existence. I have no hard cash.”

During the Indian Partition in 1947, Mr Juneja was very young but well-off. His father owned a petrol pump. When they migrated from what is now Pakistan, his kite was brought to Delhi by an aeroplane. Today, he cannot afford a cook. “It is all a game of life,” he says, laughing. “You either gets a boy, or a girl.”

Mr Juneja has a handsome portrait of his father by the beside. The old man looks livelier than his son. “I have no children but I have five sisters and one brother and they keep in touch,” he says.

Other than his sisters or nieces, he never allows any woman to enter the house. “Since I live alone, I do not want people to speculate on my character,” he says. Occasional pleasures mean a glass of beer or whiskey.

Hasn’t he got tired of living in this street?

Jo sukh chajju ke chaubare,” Mr Juneja shoots back a Punjabi saying, “woh naa Ballakh, naa Bukhare (The joy that a poor man has in his own courtyard could never be his even in the fabled cities of Balkh or Bukhara).”

If only the adage was as true as life. “On the whole,” Mr Juneja says, “I don’t think I’m happy.”

[This is the fourth portrait of the Mission Delhi project]

Mr Juneja's street

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

Mr Juneja's courtyard

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

Mr Juneja's TV

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

The dog

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

The cat

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

The dailes

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

The rare visitor

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

Reading Guru Granth Sahib

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

Mr Juneja's father

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street

At home in the home?

Mission Delhi - Satnam Singh Juneja, Pratap Street