Along with TV

[Cross posted at my other blog

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“The hiss of TV static denotes remnant radiation that still lingers from the big bang 14.5 billion years ago.”

 – National Geographic, February 2003September 2009 marks the 50th year of dear old national broadcaster Doordarshan. 

Yeah, it’s kind of hard to believe, I told my Uncle about it and he didn’t believe it. He thought Doordarshan must have started in 1960s, it should only be around 40 years old. 

According to wiki:

Doordarshan had a modest beginning with the experimental telecast starting in Delhi in September 1959 with a small transmitter and a makeshift studio. The regular daily transmission started in 1965 as a part of All India Radio. The television service was extended to Bombay and Amritsar in 1972. Till 1975, seven Indian cities had television service and Doordarshan remained the only television channel in India. Television services were separated from radio in 1976. […] 

In my own state, J&K, the broadcast started only as late as 1973 with an experimental broadcast. In the beginning you could only catch it in Chief Minister’s cabin on his private television. In 1973, the famous (I find it kind of ugly) Tv tower atop Shankaracharya Hill cropped up, by November it was fully functional. Also by then, in 1973, Doordarshan had already got its famous signature tune.

National telecasts were introduced in 1982. In the same year, colour TV was introduced in the Indian market with the live telecast of the Independence Day speech by then prime minister Indira Gandhi on 15 August 1982, followed by the 1982 Asian Games being held in Delhi.

Another big TV event of the decade was year 1984 nationally televised (in color) funeral of Indira Gandhi; people had documentaries and Bhajans playing all day long. In 1985, Doordarshan accepted commercial advertising for the first time. Hum Log became a rage. Still television was something that needed to be turned off. When there was no signal, there was static noise. People decorated their television sets with television covers. Some sets came with shutters no less. A couple of years later, in 1990, February 13th to be exact, Lassa Kaul, Station Director of Doordarshan Srinagar was shot dead by militants right outside his house in Srinagar. Still, listening to News on Doordarshan, you couldn’t tell Srinagar from Modinagar. Everything was normal. These were days like any other. For news people turned to BBC radio. People said there were some strange signals coming from PTV. But it wasn’t easy to catch PTV in the valley. I learn’t a technique – drive two nails, inch apart, into the wall just over the television set, attach two wires to the nails and use the nails as antenna. We tried. It didn’t work. I was learning to love Mile Sur Mera Tumhara. My folks were packing the bags. We left. TV came along with us. But the bigger one, a Philips B&W with wooden cabinet, had to be left at the relatives for some years, we had no space for it. Space was never enough ever since. In Jammu, I finally caught up with PTV.They were playing Jaws. I remember the night, we were sleeping under the dark open sky on mats spread on still warm cemented rooftop.  It was fun. But the blue light of Tv attracted moths and other strange insects. I hadn’t seen such insects in the valley. Tv wouldn’t burn the moth. Still they came. Still more came. From the rooftop, I could see the bright electric lights of distant Trikuta hillform a deformed inverted V.

On 26 November 2008, late at night, when all the other news channels were on the frontier of information war front, I found classical music playing on Doordarshan. It was just another day. It made sense. Back in my state, in the afternoon of 27th, people must have picked up national dailies, front page (fixed hurriedly late in the morning ) was right, it had the right big news but inside, people got to read international news dated 25th – they read about things that happened on some part of earth on 24th. I don’t think you can now see the inverted V that clearly from the city now.

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Palladium

 
Remains of Palladium Cinema Hall, Lal Chowk, Srinagar. June, 2008. Burnt down in 1992.

I couldn’t put my eye to the viewfinder. I didn’t want to draw attention. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was taking a picture. I was afraid. It seems stupid.

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She came back from school that day and ran straight to her mother who was in the kitchen at the time, sitting next to a reluctantly burning stove. Mother was decongesting stove’s snooty nozzle using one of those half-blackened-needle-tipped tools. There, it was fine now. Burning with that right gushing sound. It was quite a sight, but this didn’t make Mother happy. It never did, even though it was a dangerous thing to do, even though Mother was good at doing this thing. She knew what would make Mother happy. The news. The good news. She was now bursting with excitement. It was just too good. One look at her, and Mother knew her daughter had something to say. So. She told Mother the news, in single breath, she told her what she saw that afternoon on her way back (it wasn’t there in the morning) from the school: Poster of Rajesh Khanna’s Roti on Palladium’s hoarding wall. Finally it was here. They had heard the songs together on radio, they had hummed the songs – Naach Meri Bulbul Paisa Mile Ga, Gore Rang Pe Na Itna Gumaan Kar, Yeh Jo Public Hai Sab Jaanti Hai. And now the film was here. Mother walked into the hall, looked at the wall clock- they had time. They definitely had time. Mother offered her the afternoon meal, a plateful of hot rice, a thick Dal and some fried potatoes ( a treat just for her). ‘Finish all of it.’ While she ate, her mother got into a Sari. They were going to see the film, they were going to see Roti. There was no doubt about it from the beginning. She knew it would turn out this way, it always did. And as usual her big brothers won’t get to come along. What fun! They were still at School. They would be there for another hour or so. When they come back and find the lock on the front door, as always, to get the key, they would go to aunt’s house down the street. Boys didn’t seem to mind it at all, ever. After all, they did get to see the films later with gang of friends and cousins. And Mother paid for it all. So it was fine. Till: They all made it back to the house by the time Father got back from office in the evening. It was their little secret. Something on the side. They always had time on their side. So, the mother-daughter duo saw Roti that afternoon at Palladium cinema.

Later at night, after dinner, Father, as usual, did ask them, “So, How was the film?” And he got the answer, in one voice, “Rajesh Khanna, Mumtaz, Song, Dance, Pahalgam. How do you think it could have been?”
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Dod Chai ti Gaari’Poor

Dod Chai (Milk tea) and Gaari’Poor, Puri, always sweet, made from Water Chestnut (Singhara) flour. The two are especially
prepared by Pandits on phake’doh, fast day.

In old days, Singhara was the staple food among poor masses of Kashmir. During the months when normal cereals were hard to source, Wular and Dal Lake offered Gaeer, Singhara, in abundance.

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Chai Shoda: Kashmiri nommer for someone addicted to Tea.

Vinayak Tchoram Ti Aathwaar

It’s ‘Vinayak Tchoram Ti Aathwaar‘ and it’s not ‘Vinayak tchoram ti aathwaar‘ because 4th of this month is missing in Kashmiri calender. How do dates go missing? Don’t ask me! ‘Vinayak tchoram ti aathwaar‘ is my exact birthday and not my angreez birthday, which according to Georgian calender is 22nd.

It is Aathwaar, Sunday, today and it’s Ganesh Chaturthi all over India but today is 3rd. 4th, tchoram, is missing. Based on my own personal calculation,’Vinayak Tchoram Ti Aathwaar‘ (real one) comes once every eleven years or so. I have some distant uncles who, instead of saying my name, just exclaim, ‘Vinayak tchoram ti aathwaar!’ whenever, every odd year,  we meet. My folks stopped ‘giving’ Punn with my birth . It would have been difficult to manage two things. Yeah I like that old Dung-Roth-Gold story for the day. Which reminds me, is His birthday also missing? O’ Doesn’t matter. But my birthday is ‘missing’ this year. Okay, not entirely missing  as the ‘Morning Birthday Pooza‘ has been moved to 3rd. So the birthday is on treyum. How do dates move? Don’t ask me! How do birthdays go missing? Don’t ask me! Must be a celestial mystery. It can all become very confusing. How does one keep track? I get phone calls. Just like I get phone calls on 8ths, Aaethams (How many of them are there in a month anyway?). Don’t eat this. Don’t eat that. Okay. (But I do eat that sometimes)
So again, how can a Birthday go missing. Explain that to my defiant body cells. Receding hairline. White, that started years ago. Is that a belly? Crazy nostril hair. Is that a hair in my ear? A single strand of hair. A bouin. What does it think? Yeh Shadipur nahi, Kanpur hai! Stop. They must have made some mistake at Vicharnag, all they do is talk and drink Kehwa, instead they should be doing some VicharVimarsh and cross checking their numbers. Recalculate the dates, match calculations, get on line and tell me, ‘Tchoram cha Raawaan?’ Is 4th missing?

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Ignore.
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Image: Ganpatyaar

Old Biscoe School Photograph collection

Old photographs related to Biscoe School found in Tyndale Biscoe’s book ‘Character Building in Kashmir’ (1920) –

 
Second fleet on the way through Srinagar
 
Embarkation Contest: The first boat afloat wins the prize

 
One of the School Boats and the Crew
 
(Clockwise:) Schoolboys at Road making, Peace Day Celebration, Carrying Logs for School Building, Dispensing Medicine during Cholera Epidemic

 
The Wular Lake, Kashmir

One of the popular spots for boating expeditions

 
The C.M.S. School for Girls, Srinagar
 
One of the Brahmin Lies Reproduced on Paper

The above photograph has Biscoe boys dragging a “dead dog”. The story:

The school and particularly the methods of Mr. Biscoe faced stiff opposition from orthodox people of Srinagar, often leading the attack were Brahmins and the supporters of other “more normal” Schools including ones that had the backing of Mrs. Annie  Besant, of theosophical fame, who opened Hindu School, on the other bank just opposite the CMS school near the third bridge of Srinagar.  Often local Newspapers were filled with News snippets targeting the school and its way of functioning. In one such news story, the paper claimed that Mr. Biscoe made Brahmin boys drag dead dogs through the city. Stange as the news may seem,  Mr. Biscoe’s response was equally typical. He writes in his book ‘Character Building in Kashmir’ (1920):

Many of the native papers had done us the honour of telling their readers what they thought of us, and gave accounts of what had not, as well as of what had, happened chiefly the former. For many of the Indian papers greedily swallow the lies made red hot in Srinagar. One of the yarns that appeared is worth quoting :

” Mr. Biscoe, principal of the Church mission school in Srinagar, makes his Brahman boys
drag dead dogs through the city.”

This ” spicy ” bit of news took our fancy, and we thought it a pity that one of these yarns at least should not be founded upon something tangible, so we decided to help the editor of the paper in this matter.

We possessed an obedient dog, a spaniel, who was in the habit of “dying” for his friends when required to do so. The rest of the cast was quite easy a party of boys, a rope, and a photographer. The obedient spaniel died, and remained dead while we tied a rope to his hind leg, and placed the boys in position on the rope for the photographer to snap.

So henceforward if ever we find a citizen disbelieving Srinagar yarns, especially those spun against the schools, we can produce this photograph to show that one at least of their stories is true. Papers may err, but cameras never (?).

 
Helter-skelter: School Cleaned in Twenty-five Seconds

They still play these “cleaning” games in schools across the J&K state, but I doubt anyone can beat that number, they can barely manage the students to take these exercises seriously.

In the above  photograph you can actually see the famous “Monkey-Poles” of Biscoe School.  I was admitted to the school in the later 1980s as a young boy, only six or seven years old. Perhaps LKG, and stayed till 3rd standard. I distinctly remember relatives asking me if I had seen the famous  “Money-pole”. I had no idea what they were talking about. From their talks, I could infer that in Biscoe school bad boys were made to climb up the “Monkey Pole”. I didn’t know what the big deal was with that. Sounds fun. Unless. Unless, the pole had nails. So I always imagined that the pole had nails.

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Biscoe School Images from “Beyond The Pir Panjal: Life and Missionary Enterprise in Kashmir” (1912 ) by Ernest F. Neve –

 
Fleet Paddling Past The High School

 
School Sports. A Splash Dash.
[Update: Photographer Randolph B. Holmes, (‘Holmes of Peshawar”)]. Year 1915.

I love this photograph. [A story for later]

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