Why artists and designers are revisiting stories behind old photographs

Photographer and graphic designer Anusha Yadav started the Indian Memory Project, an online, visual, narrative-based archive in 2010, to trace the history of the subcontinent via photographs and letters. Pic/Ashish Raje

EarLier this week, artist and oral historian Aanchal Malhotra, 28, travelled nearly 240 km to Chandigarh from Delhi, to meet a nonagenarian, who had lived through the Partition of 1947. As she speaks about it now, there's a lump in her throat. "I couldn't sleep that entire night," Malhotra confesses. "Even 70 years on, the woman is so afraid to talk about it. It had everything, from gun fire, to fleeing from her home in Pakistan, to her brother and mother being taken as prisoners, and to giving birth in a forest on her way to India. When she first delivered the baby, her immediate response was to throw it away. You can imagine what trauma she was experiencing." What surprised Malhotra most was when the 90-year-old asked her what she would do with her story. "I said that I wanted to publish it. The woman's immediate response was, 'who will read this?'. They really think that nobody cares. But, this is the story that has shaped the future of contemporary India."

The jewellery Aanchal Malhotra is wearing, was made in the North-West Frontier Province and was given to her great-grandmother, Lajvanti Gulyani, by her in-laws on her wedding to Hari Chand Gulyani in the year 1919. But it could have been in the Gulyani family before that as well. Since she became a widow quite young and was a single mother at the time of Partition, it was carried by her to India in 1947 because she thought she would be able to sell it and earn money to put her children through school. She then gave it to Malhotra's grandmother, who has now given it to her. Pic/Nishad Alam

Malhotra is the author of Remnants of Separation (HarperCollins India), a book that revisited the Partition through objects carried across the border, and the co-founder - along with Navdha Malhotra - of The Museum of Material Memory, a digital repository of material culture of the Indian subcontinent, tracing family histories and ethnography through heirlooms and objects of antiquity. Since the launch of the archive last year, the founders have put together over 35 heartwarming object stories. Closer home, photographer and graphic designer Anusha Yadav's Indian Memory Project - an online, visual, narrative-based archive, founded in 2010, which traces the history of the subcontinent via photographs and letters - has helped us see history in another light. There is also Paris-based perfumer Jahnvi Lakhota Nandan, whose recently-published book, Pukka Indian: 100 objects that Define India (Roli Books), documents the most coveted symbols and designs representing our culture, by tracing its origin and significance in our lives. All three projects while different in essence and form, have one common intent - to record untold stories from our history and preserve them for posterity. But, as Malhotra's subject asked her, why should anyone be curious?

The chakla and belan originated in 7,500 - 6,000 BCE in Punjab. At the time, this region was cultivating wheat and barley extensively. Rather than using the flatness of the chakla and the pressure of the belan to what we might expect to be used around the country to make flatbread, whatever the ingredient might be, it is only in this region of north India that the chakla and belan were used simply because wheat and barley lend themselves to kneading. What must have been perceived as a high-technology kitchen tool then, the chakla and belan soon spread to other parts of the country. Text courtesy/Pukka India by Jahnvi Lakhota Nanda, Roli books; Pic/Shivani Gupta

Celebrating the mundane
Nandan, an alumnus of the School of Art and Design at Tsukuba University, Japan, admits that her project stemmed out of her curiosity to find out about the designs that define us an Indian. "Design is a mirror of our attitudes and habits. Through the course of writing this book on Indian design, I found that uniquely Indian gestures like churning, combing and calculating were reflected in it," she writes in the book. From the dabba, agarbatti, and kulhad, to Babuline gripe water, most of the objects Nandan chose for the book, have "either been made or originated in India, or have an element that is very Indian, or are being used in a very Indian context".

This picture is of Purvi Sanghvi's grandfather Dwarkadas Jivanlal Sanghvi (extreme right in a black coat) and his brother Vallabhdas Jivanlal Sanghvi with their business partners at a Pen Exhibition in Bombay around 1951. The family ran Wilson Pens that quickly rose to huge fame and became a preferred choice of pens across the country. All government offices, law court, used the Wilson pens. The Wilson Pen Family made the orange, thick-nibbed pen that wrote the most fundamental document that defines the state of India: The Constitution of India written by Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar. Pic, Text Courtesy/Indian Memory Project/Contributed by Purvi Sanghvi, Mumbai

It's while working on the book that Nandan realised how "our own homes are a repository of history". Here, she relays an incident when Shivani Gupta, the photographer for Pukka Indian, had been anxious about finding a mandira - a butter churner - that Nandan had mentioned in the book. "She went home, and realised that she had five of them in her kitchen. She didn't even know she was sitting on so much wealth." Nandan adds, "We don't tend to celebrate the mundane. What we celebrate are things that have obvious value, like jewellery, the beautification of the body or the exotic."

Paris-based perfumer Jahnvi Lakhota Nandan's recent book, Pukka Indian, documents the most coveted symbols and designs representing Indian culture, by tracing its origin and significance in the lives of its users. Pic/Suresh Karkera

Object as a catalyst
Malhotra's interest in people's histories began while working on Remnants of Separation, which was an extension of her Master of Fine Arts thesis project for Concordia University, Canada. Malhotra's research began after she came across a gaz (a measuring device) and ghara (a pot), which belonged to her nana's family, and had crossed the border. "Sometimes the Partition is too traumatic to speak about. When I started my research, I didn't know where to begin or what I could ask, without sounding frivolous. The object became a catalyst to enter into that conversation. So, rather than me saying 'Oh! You lived through the Partition, that must be awful,' I was now asking relevant questions, like 'why did you choose to take this gold bangle with you?'. The object then, didn't become something that recessed into the background, but something around which the entire background was arranged."

That's when she and Navdha decided to start The Museum of Material Memory. The duo encourages everyone to contribute, provided the object is from or before the 1970s. The archive comprises everything from a 5-inch-long, mottled sewing needle to a chaddar with traditional baagh and phulkari embroidery and a former Class II Income-Tax officer's diary filled up with the repeated words 'Sri Rama Jayam', meaning Jai Sri Ram. Each post is accompanied with the story behind the object. "Material ethnography is so vastly explored in the West, especially when it comes to events of trauma and crisis. What we are recording here, will never be found in any textbook. We need active memoralisation, not just of traumatic events, but of our tradition and culture, which is primarily oral."

Not just for nostalgia's sake
The indianmemoryproject.com, says Yadav, started off as a book idea, where she wanted to collect old, wedding photographs. "I wanted to document the idea of weddings in different cultures, and explore the entire phenomena behind the crew that makes it possible," she says. "While the book didn't happen, the pictures stayed with me." That's how, her archive, a first-of-its-kind in India, took off. "If you are fascinated with history, you will know that India really is a melting pot. Every civilisation has passed through it. And so we have all kinds of DNA in us. And considering photography was discovered two centuries ago, we did have a lot of content to discuss," says Yadav.

She admits that it wasn't as easy to get people to share their photographs or talk about their stories. "But, there needs to be integrity, transparency and you need to earn the trust of your subject. When you have these value systems in place, people are more open. I always thought of the archive as an institution." Funding for the project has been tough, says the archivist. "When I began, I was very clear that I didn't want to become a trust. Unfortunately, that's the channel through which most of the money comes from. But, there's a server and maintenance cost and the site constantly needs to be upgraded. Now, I have started putting in requests for honorariums. The only way I will get money is through a private funder, who is fascinated with the idea, and wants to back it as well. Sometimes, when a good sum comes from my own work as a photographer, part of the profits go to it. At the end of the day, it is an unofficial record of history, and I'm doing my best to sustain it."

Catch up on all the latest Mumbai news, crime news, current affairs, and also a complete guide on Mumbai from food to things to do and events across the city here. Also download the new mid-day Android and iOS apps to get latest updates