Hri Institute for Southasian Research and Exchange

Text:  Sarita Manu
Images Courtesy: Law & Society Trust, Colombo

In their relentless pursuit of a mono ethnic Tamil state in Northern Sri Lanka, the LTTE, in October 1990, evicted close to 70,000 Muslims in the North. At a notice of just two hours, this community was ordered to leave everything behind, and forced to start afresh in camps. It was only when the war ended in 2009 that these families were able to begin returning to their homes in the North.

In Jaffna

An abandoned building, Jaffna

The Law & Society Trust (LST), a not for profit organization engaged in human rights documentation, legal research and advocacy based in Colombo, began to work on a memory project with these families. The Northern Muslims Project is a project of the LST together with three northern Muslim partner organizations where they set up a Citizens’ Commission to investigate this expulsion of Muslims from the Northern Province by the LTTE. The International Center for Transitional Justice (ICTJ) and Asia Foundation also assisted the project during its various stages.

The Citizens’ Commission consisting of eminent people from all walks of life went to the community over the last one year, listening to people’s stories. These narratives were collected in the form of oral recordings and photographs. The final report was based on the evidence presented in front of the commission and there was very little photographic evidence as few people had pictures about their life pre-eviction. A team was then entrusted with the task of going to these people, family by family, with portable scanners and scanning all available pictures. Old, beautiful photographs of weddings, young children and family portraits emerged. With the release of the final Report, “The Quest for Redemption: The Story of the Northern Muslims”, recommendations were made to the government on restitution and how justice could be provided by the State to these people. This had a very strong impact in raising the visibility of these families, both within their own community and at a larger national level. ‘Each of these families had a story but nobody wanted to listen to them. The entire process had such a redemptive force and the very act of documenting their loss was cathartic for these people,’ says Mala Liyanage, Executive Director of LST.

War and Disappearance

LST intends to do a similar project with victims of the lesser known ‘terror’ (Bheeshanaya)in southern Sri Lanka in the late 1980s. Ordinary people were victimised by the government as well as the insurgents: many were killed and several disappeared. Liyanage adds, ‘More than three decades have passed since, and sometimes people are forced to live side by side with those responsible for the death of their loved ones. These people have had no opportunity to tell their stories.’

From the hearing at Mannar, The Northern Muslims Project

Thousands of people have gone missing during the conflict in the southern Sri Lanka and the Civil War. Nearly 30 years have passed since and families still wait for news on the missing. Liyanage wishes to do a documentary, ‘missing’, on all those who have disappeared. ‘Several of these missing have disappeared involuntarily: arbitrarily arrested or placed in detention. Some in the government probably know what happened to these people,’ says Liyanage. The documentary will be based entirely on the memories of the families of the missing; families waiting endlessly for the loved ones to come back. Children wait for their fathers; mothers wait for their children; wives wait for their husbands and they never stop waiting. This wait is very difficult as there is no way of knowing whether the ones they await are dead or alive: if alive, whether they are in prison or if they are dead, cremated or buried. The families go in search from prison to prison, detention centre to detention centre in the hope of finding some information or finding someone who can tell them what they desperately want to know.

The documentary will focus not only on Tamils from northern Sri Lanka but also on the victims of the insurgency in the south. It is difficult to talk about the suffering of Tamils in the north, without looking at the people who suffered in the south, says Liyanage. The ‘missing’ will cover all of these people. Liyanage comments that this project will be extremely difficult to execute, as it is very complicated to arrive at an exact number of the missing. The official records of such disappearances are arbitrary: they may be recorded as prisoners, or simple as ‘missing’ or even as dead. This is also closely tied with the issue of accountability on part of the government and hence one may never get an official number, feels Liyanage. She wants to have this film only for local consumption, especially for the Sinhala people in the south. Reports tend to be read only by students, lawyers and such but she wishes to reach out to more people through a film. She says, ‘People are unaware of the things that happen around them. All issues that will support reconciliation need to be made known, and this won’t happen as long as the Sinhala people remain uninformed of the issues and suffering of the Tamils.’

Continuing on the theme of the need to educate and inform, she proceeded to introduce me to the invaluable, meticulously preserved records of human rights and policy issues in the island over the past two decades.

Legal Treasure Trove

The LST publishes Sri Lanka: State of Human Rights, which is an annual survey of human rights, drawing contributors from across the human rights community and a monthly magazine, LST review. This monthly, has been in publication for nearly 25 years and is an advocacy tool for parliamentarians, judiciary and activists. A valuable record of significant issues over the last two decades, it is also a medium through which some sensitive issues have been brought out in the open for discussion. Since the LST review has been published for several years it serves as LST’s “business card” especially in the regional advocacy of human rights that Dr. Neelan Tiruchelvam was very interested in. Dr. Neelan, who founded the LST, was one of the pioneers, advocating for national human rights Commission in Sri Lanka.

A file photo of Dr. Neelan T

The archives house some of the documents, letters and papers which he used to express his thoughts before his assassination in 1999. His work related to utilising the law for social change, his pioneering work in public interest litigation and papers from various public discussions he organised in constitution making is also present in the collection, though not organised. On the rare occasion that someone wants to access these documents, they are brought out.

With more than 8500 volumes of books and journals, including a rare collection of legal literature, the Information & Documentation Centre at LST is particularly rich in historical material related to the Sri Lankan legal system. The library room itself is small and cramped due to lack of funds for its expansion but the collection is well-maintained. The lack of digital copies of this marvellous collection has restricted its reach, feels Liyanage. In the future, LST hopes to raise funds for the expansion of the library as well as digitisation of their collection in an extensive database, making it accessible to a wider audience. Even as they are working towards digitisation, the constraint will remain in physically scanning all books and making digital copies, due to lack of training in digitisation and shortage of staff. Some existing staff members have a keen interest in research and documentation and the trust can benefit strongly with the in-house training of such staff.

Through the work in human rights documentation, and memory projects including oral documentation, LST has been able to stitch together stories and pieces of Sri Lankan history that would have been lost otherwise; thus aiding the struggles for human rights.

Text and Images: Sarita Manu

“The leasehold village of Vikhroli Turuf Marole in the Salsette Taluka … within the Bombay Suburban District” — these lines caught my attention immediately. I struggled to remember the last time any suburb of Mumbai (then, Bombay) had been referred to as a village. This was at the exhibition aptly titled, ‘Pirojshangar: Then and Now’, tracing the transformational journey of the village Vikhroli to the Godrej township that it is today.

At the exhibition, a public auction notice released in the year 1940 announced the auction of this leasehold village. The notice was displayed alongside photographs showing a young Pirojshah Godrej inspecting the land.  The land was transferred to Godrej in the late 1940s, and on 4 July 1951, Pirojshah announced the beginning of operations at the first factory building at Vikhroli, comprising a roofed area of 2,33,000 sq ft.

Interestingly, the first production of this plant  was making ‘Ballot Boxes’ for the young and newly independent India’s first general elections between end of 1951 and early 1952. The factory was churning out more than 15,000 ballot boxes in one day. A newspaper article put on show, quoted a Godrej spokesperson mention that if all the boxes (nine inches long) were put on top of each other, they would reach the height of several Mount Everests piled one on top of the other. If placed side by side, they would form a line 200 miles long. It was not hard to imagine that this would have truly been the case, given the number of ballot boxes India would have needed for a countrywide election. An old advertisement of Godrej was also displayed here, proudly featuring the ballot boxes produced at Vikhroli.

As the factory grew, the number of workers at Vikhroli also grew quickly. Always concerned about the welfare of his workers, Pirojshah built worker’s quarters, known as Baithi Chawls, in the complex. Pragati Kendra housed the exhibit today, but its historical role has been more extensive: it is a welfare centre especially for women and children, and Udayachal, a school for the worker’s children, were built soon thereafter. Mrs. Alooben Mowdawalla, the first Welfare Officer at Godrej Pragati Kendra, was instrumental in setting up the Pragati Kendra. Extracts of interviews with her and residents of the Baithi Chawls were present in the form of audio recordings at the exhibition.

The documents, photographs, structural drawings, press clippings, old advertisements and audio-visual material were only a part of the rich collection of the Godrej Archives, but they provided a great insight in to the story of Godrej, the development of the township and its green cover, and the lives of workers lives within the complex. In doing so, they showcased some of the ways in which India’s social changes have been closely tied to Indian industry.

The entrance to the Alpaiwalla Museum

Text and Image: Sarita Manu

Housed in a quiet corner of the Kharegat Parsi Colony, the Alpaiwalla Museum of Mumbai opens its doors willingly to all curious visitors. And there can be no better guide than Ms. Nivedita Mehta, the curator, who took me through each exhibit in detail and entertained all my queries, patiently.

The museum is named after Mr. Framji Dadabhoy Alpaiwalla, a Parsi, who collected several items in the early 20^th century. Ms. Mehta recollects that typically collectors would spend around 10 to 15% of their income on collecting, but Mr. Alpaiwalla who worked in a bank, put everything into building his collection. His passion for collecting overtook all other interests, and it is said that he eventually lived in his kitchen after he ran out of space in his 11-room home, where he housed the collection. Alpaiwalla first set up the museum at his home and following his death, his entire collection was handed over to the Bombay Parsi Punchayat (BPP). The BPP started a Parsi Punchayat Museum in 1954 at the Kharegat Memorial Building; this was reorganised and renamed Mr. Framji Dadabhoy Alpaiwalla Museum in 1981. The museum was established under the guidance of Alpaiwalla’s friend, Dr. Jamshed Unwalla, a well known religious and Avestan scholar. An archaeologist who trained at the Louvre School of Archaeology, Dr. Unwalla also worked for ten years at the historical city of Susa, in Iran. His archaeological collection from Iran is also housed at the Alpaiwalla museum.

While the museum today highlights the rich history and heritage of the Parsi community, Alpaiwalla collected not only Parsi items, but many others. He was most interested in items that reflected the new and changing ways of the world, and bought frequently from art and antiquity dealers. Among other items, he collected stamps, coins, solar water bottles and perfume bottles from across the world, Indian art pieces, Egyptian antiquities and books. When his collection was bought to the museum, one of the nicest things found was a picture of Dhobi Talao, Mumbai before it was filled up. A huge collection of picture postcards of old Mumbai, India and the world beyond is present in the museum. The collection also includes the calling card of Dadabhai Naoroji, when he was elected to the British House of Commons between 1892 and 1895. Within the collection lies a manuscript of ‘Ijashne’, one of the most important Parsi ceremonies. The manuscript is in Gujarathi, and dated 1850 C.E. The museum also includes the Vendidad Avesta, a sacred book of Zoroastrianism dated 1816 C.E. One treasure is an original firman of Emperor Jahangir issued in 1618 C.E. granting a jagir (a type of land grant) of 100 bighas (4 bighas = 1 acre) to Chandji Kandin and his nephew Hoshang Ranji; Dadabhai Naoroji was their descendent.

Ms. Nivedita Mehta, the curator of the museum, has been collecting material on the Parsi history herself. This includes several photographs of Parsi families, portrait and family paintings of Parsi families, traditional Parsi clothing and photocopies of portrait images of important Parsis that are exhibited here. Although the museum draws only a handful of visitors, it is an effort that will go a long way in sharing the history of the small but influential Parsi community.

Text and images: Sarita Manu

When a friend asked me why was I traversing half-way across the city only to look at a wall-painting, I had to admit that it was because (in no specific order) a) there is only much I can stand in Mumbai these days, so I need to move around and find things that can make me like the city again and b) my boss asked me to.

Bollywood Art Project (BAP), a public art project celebrating hundred years of Bollywood,  has reiterated for me that Bollywood is indeed larger than life. Conceptualised and executed by young professionals and artists, Ranjit Dahiya,  Mallika Chabra and Swati Rao from Chandigarh Art School, together with Tony Peters and  Sruti Viswesaran,the BAP aims to create several works of street art across various Indian cities. Their first venture is a mural created on a wall on Chapel Road. When Ranjit said we could meet at the mural, I was hoping I didn’t miss finding it on Chapel Road, the narrow street connecting Mount Carmel Church with Hill Road in Bandra, Mumbai. It was, of course, impossible to miss this enormous hand-painted poster screaming ‘Anarkali’.  The pretty Bina Rai and the handsome Pradeep Kumar with a thin moustache lost in her gaze (yes, I think moustaches are handsome) epitomise ‘love’ – the single most popular emotion in Bollywood ruling the viewers’ hearts and minds. Keeping in line with the spirit of Bollywood it should really have been called the ‘BA(a)P’ (with “baap” meaning father), and not just B A P.

The setting for the poster itself is absolutely marvellous: the wall of a two story building across the Lala Lane compound that serves as a fantastic viewing gallery. I could totally imagine myself spending hours staring at the lovely poster and dreaming. In Mumbai, where millions eat and breathe only ‘Bollywood’, this poster is their chance of owning Bollywood. I could almost hear myself say, ‘This is my/our Bollywood’. After all what is Bollywood without its billions of fans, and what are stars without the stardom bestowed upon them?  The poster offers every viewer a sense of ownership – of the city and its cinema.

Based on a still of the film Anarkali, the poster made passersby wonder aloud, ‘Hmmmm, Looks like from Mughal – e – Azam …’ Anarkali, starring Bina Rai and Pradeep Kumar, was released in 1953 and based on the legendary love between Salim (Akbar’s son) and Anarkali, the beautiful court-dancer. Mughal –e – Azam was a film made in 1960 based on the same theme. Both the films were commercially and critically acclaimed and remain popular to date. It was not until the letters A N A R K A L I were painted that people realised this poster was not from Mughal-e-Azam but from Anarkali. One gentleman did insist that Bina Rai’s smile was similar to that of Madhubala, says Sruti.

Dahiya (as Ranjit is affectionately known), with his 18 years of experience in hand painting posters in varied sizes and scales, finished this mural in just 14 days.  Tony recollects that it was not easy for Dahiya to be perched on this high ladder on a busy street; credit goes to the city and the local residents for their undying support and enthusiasm: the affectionate chai-wala who was ready with the chai all the time; the panipuri wala who was so overwhelmed with the poster that he offered the B A P team, a life-long supply of free pani-puri at his stall; the passerby who stood smoking a beedi and comparing the still image to the painting only to point out that a particular spot needed more light and many such others.

B A P also held a screening of Anarkali at the venue. The response to it was outstanding. Kids from the neighbourhood landed with big bottles of water and a packet of chips, an old woman stood for more than an hour watching the film from a shy corner despite being offered a seat and told that the screening was for free, another gentleman travelled from a distant suburb only to look at how things were being set up. The team had a blast organising the screening despite running around frantically to put it together. The kudos pouring in from all corners has given B A P the much needed momentum to realise their dream of completing many such murals until next year and in many cities.

A fully-self funded initiative, the B A P is now pitching in for funding and hopes to receive maximum financial support. Also, the team is slowly expanding and soon there will be more hands holding up the ladder and setting up the screens. B A P is open to receiving exciting ideas and collaborating with more artists. While the B A P is about celebrating Bollywood cinema’s hundred years, it is important to note that it takes art to the streets and into the public domain. Sruti recounted an experience of working with an artist at the Guggenheim Museum in New York, where patrons paid 20 dollars each to watch art. Any art becomes ‘high-art’ when patrons have to pay or when they are screened in closed spaces, she says. And it is this idea that they want to challenge in letting every viewer on the street enjoy art.

Coming up soon: an even bigger mural of Bollywood’s eternal dancing queen, Helen.

Text and images: Sarita Manu

A glimpse of Haroon Habib's walls

Freedom Fighter, journalist and writer Haroon Habib’s house is akin to a photo gallery. The walls of his rooms tell stories and bring alive the history of Bangladesh’s Liberation War of 1971.

Haroon Habib in his home

As a young fighter, Haroon joined the war forces; during the war he was recruited by the Mujib Nagar Government as a war journalist. When the Bangladesh Forces were organised into eleven sectors, Haroon went to Sector 11. This is when the Sector Commander Major Abu Taher gave him a Yashica camera. This camera captured most of the images we see with him today (his first camera belonged to Dr. Humayun Hai).  Buying film was difficult and printing it was an even bigger task:  one had to travel 60 km inside the Indian border to get to a printing studio. Haroon printed most of his pictures at a studio in the Tuha Hills of Meghalaya.

Despite the difficulties he endured, Haroon kept clicking pictures wherever he was. The majority of the participants of the war were young Bengali peasants and students. Armed with his simple camera, Haroon Habib captured nearly 100 rare images of these freedom fighters, the countless refugees, the Indian army officers and many others. Looking at photographs of some children from the war, he fondly tells me that two of them grew up to be medical doctors.

It is only in recent years that Haroon’s photographs were made public at various exhibitions. Since then, many have also found place as permanent exhibits on his walls. Each photo is neatly captioned, dated (when the date is known) and now, also digitised. When young children from the neighbourhood drop in to look at the pictures and hear the stories he has to share, Haroon is happy that the photographs can serve as living pieces of history for current and future generations.