Kavya Wahi - End-term Assignment

Prompt 6. Non-Fiction: Write evocatively about your family history.

Family Chart painted over the sketch of the haveli on a vintage paper

A closer look

A picture of NAMAK HARAM haveli from a book

Map with havelis marked

1. Chunna Mal's Haveli        2. Begum Samru's Haveli          3. Namak Haram ki Haveli                    4. Zeenat Mahal's Haveli    5.The British Residency    6. Skinner's House           7. Metcalfe's Haveli            8. Ahsanullah Khan's Haveli        9. Haksar Haveli      10. Matiya Mahal               11. Fatehpuri Masjid          12. Akbarabadi Masjid            13. Sirhindi Masjid      14. Aurangabadi Masjid          15.Zinat al-Masajid    16. Sunahri Masjid     17. Masjid of Sharif ud-Daulah 18. Fakhr ul-Masajid

Every year’s Diwali dinner has almost become like a ritual for the whole family to meet at someone’s place after the sound of the crackers has mellowed down and most of the people are busy opening the last set of gifts they have received. By family I meant my paternal family members who have grown up together in the heart of the capital city. Their presence in each other’s childhood has a place of its own and it has stayed within them for years now. Diwali dinners are the time when they get together for a good old chinwag. So, following the dinner and hearty laughter, moon-white sheets are spread on the floor and the cards are dealt. Forming a big circle, the bowl becomes the centre of their universe. In the midst of passing of nachos and hiding the Aces, demanding for goodwill and ruing the decision of playing another hand, someone brings up an instance of Chandni Chowk and the night changes. This is the picture of our family.

“Remember the jalebi wala near our haveli in Chandni Chowk?”

“And the kachori wala who opened his shop at six in the morning and packed it up by eight?”

“Raju and I have spent so many evenings flying kites on the terrace. We made sure Amma does not catch us.”

“Sushma didi ki toh shaadi bhi haveli mai hu hui thi.”

“Thele par sona rakha hua aata tha Naval Kishor ji ke liye.”

“Bade mama used to shut the main doors and we all sat in the dark during the riots outside. Phoolmandi ka poora haata band hojata tha ladai ke samay. Humare ghar mai daal, doodh, sab hota tha, keval sabjiya nahi.”

A number of similar stories, anecdotes and partially broken narratives about their lives in Chandni Chowk were a part of my growing up. The diversion of everyone’s attention from cards to Chandni Chowk is very interesting. The centre of their universe changes in a minute and they get into a new zone - the one in which the new generations do not find any space. It is as if they teleport to a different space. They viewed the city from their lens. For them, it was more than just cramped galis (lanes), compact mohallas (localities) and noisy bazaars. The children belonging to the similar age group went to school together. They used to meet at the end of the lane every evening to relax. The way the memories of Chandni Chowk lighten their faces, it makes me want to know more about the times when they lived in grand haveli, were entertained by the dancers in the main courtyard, watched their family member accompanying Pandit Nehru and Gandhi to jail and bought a lot in little money, etc. The grandeur and style of Shahjahanabad is always on their tongues.

So, after digging a few books and pulling out information from the oldest ones in the family, I got to know about the previous generations, where did they stay and with whom? So, my father along with twenty other people used to live in the Namak Haram haveli, 316, Kucha Ghasi Ram, Chandni Chowk. The name of the haveli is enough to pull the attention of people. This is a late Mughal haveli which was owned by Munshi Bhawani Shankar, who had acquired wealth during the Maratha occupation in Delhi. It got its name ‘The Mansion of Traitor’ because the owner was disloyal to the Marathas as he shared information with the British. Since then, people have popularly known it as Namak Haram Haveli. A total of 15 rooms and 2 halls on three floors were occupied by five families. About 30 members of the extended family lived next to each other. Mehalsarai Haveli was also owned by Naval Kishor Ji and there stayed about 80 tenants in that haveli. The legend has it that total 6 tunnels go from Phoolmandi (Flower Lane) to Red Fort and one to Agra. One of them had its way from Namak Haram haveli as well. In summer, the kids used to sleep on the terrace without even fans or coolers. It had a Baoli in which water level rose frequently. It was believed that the Queen of Britain used to bathe in the baoli. There was a space called twelve arcs (barah dari) in the haveli, just above the Baoli. Naval Kishor’s wife, Brij Rani, often slept there. There still exists a warehouse/ dungeon in the haveli.

This haveli and a few others became the ancestral property of our family before than a century ago. As it can be noticed from the family tree, it was originally the property of Lala Chunnamal and he gave it in the wedding of the daughter Subhadra Chunnamal with my great grandmother’s (Vidyawati) mother’s (B) elder brother (A). The whole Phoolmandi ka haata from one gate to the end of the other gate was given to them. For someone who has wandered in the cluttered streets of Old Delhi and has pushed aside the carts and crowd, Chunnamal is a name would not be new to them. Built in 1857, it was the fanciest haveli with huge ceilings, marvellous architecture placed in some 150 rooms. It was owned by Lala Chunnamal who also owned Fatehpuri Mosque at Rs. 19000. They were very affluent and had under their name more than half of the Old Delhi. The British usually dined with them and a scion of the family, Ravi Mohan, rendezvoused with famous Simi Garewal there.

Neither Subhadra and her husband had any child nor the latter’s younger brother. So the property was given to his sister’s children, basically the boys: Naval Kishor and Har Kishor. Their youngest sister stayed with them in Namak Haram haveli as her husband, Brij Lal, was a freedom fighter and spent most of his time with Pandit Nehru. The two men who inherited the whole property later passed it on to their children and eventually grandchildren. The Editor-in-chief of India TV, Rajat Sharma’s father was an accountant at their home. Har Kishor, the younger brother, completed his graduation from Hindu College and worked in the Ministry of Government. He was also given huge garden area in front of Tis Hazari court. Some daughters staying in the Namak Haram haveli were married into the next house that they dearly loved. The others who married the sons of the family also belonged to extremely wealthy families.

Parts of the haveli still stand amidst the dirty streets of Old Delhi. It had a lavish ornamental gateway as well as beautiful arched ways. Parts of it have been turned into shops. The other havelis owned by them have either been constructed into shops or have gone to heritage for preservation. It was about three decades ago that my grandfather took a small share i.e. Rs. 30,000 from the ancestral property and moved with his wife and four children from Chandni Chowk to East Delhi. Even after their physical displacement from the ground of Old Delhi, their hearts were still tied to the roots of that place. Till today, they are acquainted with the most confusing ways of Chandni Chowk as if they still live there.

All the members of the close as well as extended family lived together in peace. Even the mentally special person (Rajendra Wahal) in the family received equal respect. He was included in all the celebrations of the family. Although the families now scattered and occupied different areas, sold the havelis for better, their admiration and fondness for each other still exists. For them, Phoolmandi was a world of its own. They were complete. Walking down the lane of memories, they feel refreshed as well as nostalgic. For us, their stories are only medium to hold onto the past that had its own charm. As the wheel spins round and round in the old dust, they try to share those past moments with each other, for what is lost in physicality can be remembered in memories forever.

After tracing down the magical and splendid history of my family and realising how close this city is to them, I am reminded of Sheikh Muhammad Ibrahim Zauq’s sher -

इन दिनों गरचे दक्खन मैं हैं बड़ी क़द्र ऐय सुखन

कौन जाये ज़ौक़ पर दिल्ली की गलियां छोड़ कर

Sources:

Family Members

Delhi, the Emperor's City by Vijay Goel

The Delhi that No-one Knows

Self-Reflective Process Essay

Ways of Reading. CR407

Two days, ten weeks,

seven poets, twenty-two poems,

eyes in many pairs,

dug into different layers.

Three to thirteen, voices

levelled up every week.

Coloured images, words uncoloured,

sketches made, songs were heard.

Collective thinking,

personal scribbling,

a repository of art,

doodles, poetry painting the heart.

I chose this course because I really wanted to be a part of a course that teaches me more than just academic reading and writing. I wanted to test myself if I can fit into a course which will demand more creativity and interaction. Like many others, I, too, was not sure if I can write especially to meet the deadlines considering one cannot forcibly weave ideas and words in a poem. Although writing is a natural act, I realized that writing can be deliberate too. The muse doesn't always have to be waited for to produce a piece of art. It obviously requires reading and regular practice but it is not an unachievable goal. In the past, I had never written poems by following guidelines or on specific topics. It has always been a choice which was gradually turning into cliche. This particular course introduced me to new ways of reading and writing. The combination of literary texts with theoretical readings formed the ground for me. Now I write keeping in mind Wagner’s Six S’s and the act of enjambment. For the mid-semester assignment, I wrote six poems, each focusing on a different style of writing. I wrote poems on politics, love, memory, etc. I remember writing a descriptive poem and I found myself struggling with words while thinking about the quirks and quiddities of my subject. It required moments of reflection and recollection and later it turned out to be one of the finest poems I had ever written.

I have been writings poems for a few years now but I did not know the way of writing them. It was only after reading a variety of poems in the class that I understood how important a line-break in a poem is, how an ambiguous title can take way the interest from the poem and how repetition is also an art. As I wrote and re-read my poems I couldn't help but compare them to my previous work and the progress was noteworthy. The prompts for the end-semester assignment included a write-up on family history and I have wanted to write about it for quite some time now. So, this course has successfully pulled me out of comfort zone.

We explored different forms such as poetry, novel, graphic-novel and creative non-fiction and learned the finer nuances of writing. Neither the scope of reading nor writing was limited. We closely read Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things and discussed, dissected and debated the methods employed in her writing, the politics of language, the construction of the narrative, etc. The discussions were enriching. I still remember the class in which we chose a line or paragraph from Roy’s book that we wish we had written. That exercise was extremely interesting as we read someone else's work, appreciated it and aspired to make it our own writing. The workshop with Aditi Rao was entirely a new experience for me. I thoroughly enjoyed the free-writing session as it was almost like a discovery for me. Had it not been for this class, I would not have attempted writing a poem on a dead metaphor. After the workshop, I realized that I can work better with metaphors. The feedback session was helpful for me as I was told not to explain the metaphors. I should let the readers make sense of them as the possibilities of metaphors are unlimited. I intend to implement the learned forms in my writings in future as well so that my writings have a room of their own to live in.

After completing this course, I find myself a step closer to my dream of sitting on an enchanted porch nestled in hills and writing poems and painting on canvas on balmy mornings. Lastly, I am thankful to Professor Akhil who, with his ways of teaching, instilled confidence to write more and better. His suggestions were insightful and I will always remember him and this course with fondness.