Text and Photographs by Maleeha Manaazil
New Delhi, India
I don’t know how many years have passed, but the memory of her is still fresh in my mind – my grandmother, my Biji, sitting at the sewing machine with a tin box of threads, stitching a pillowcase or flowery patterns on my school handkerchief. This simple Nutrine tin box connects me to her, and some part of her feels preserved within it, even after all these years. In 1972, a family friend, Mangat uncle, had gifted it to my maternal uncle for his birthday, and originally it was filled with toffees. As the box emptied, like the fate of most chocolate or biscuit tins in South Asian families, it was filled with sewing accessories – spools of thread brought by Biji’s father-in-law from Singapore many years earlier in 1953.
My Biji, Rajinder Kaur Bal, aka Harbhajan Kaur before marriage, was born in 1945 in the village of Jamsher Khera and moved to Jalandhar city after her marriage. She was kind hearted yet opinionated. My grandfather, a retired professor and Principal, motivated her to continue her studies even after they were married, and was supportive of every decision she made. They were the most loveable couple I’d ever seen in my life.
My grandfather led a simple life, valuing punctuality and kindness. And while he was strong for everyone else, he was always soft-hearted towards Biji. I saw him in tears for the first time when she passed away. A companionship of over 60 years, their affection and unwavering care for each other feels like a rarity in today’s times. And even after nearly 25 years without her, my grandfather never misses a chance to mention Biji – he remembers her as if she left us only yesterday, and each night he speaks to her photograph that hangs before his bed.
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The box is made of tin, which has now weathered from its original state, bearing scratches and warped edges. Measuring 2.25 inch x 8 inch x 6 inch, it is baby blue in colour, with hand-painted flowers on its sides. Towards the bottom, run the words NUTRINE CONFECTIONERY CO. (PVT) LTD. CHITTOOR – ANDHRA PRADESH on one side, NET WEIGHT 400 gms on another, and on the third reads, PERMITTED COLOURS ONLY USED. Founded in 1952 by Shri B. Venkatarama Reddy, the Nutrine Confectionary Company, quite unlike brands born in metropolitan cities, “had its roots in a rural belt bordering Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, where mangoes, bananas, and tomatoes thrived.1” Some research tells me that it was one of India’s first large-scale confectionary brands, giving us household names like Mango Bite and Milk Toffee, cultural staples of many childhoods including mine.
Now the lid of the box is slightly out of place and its hinges have also loosened, but it must have come as a luxurious gift – precious and unique in those days. It was common for toffees, biscuits and other treats to come in tins at the time, rather than the cardboard and plastic packaging that we are used to now, for it prevented damage and crumbling of the items, while still retaining freshness by being airtight.
As was normally the case with Nutrine boxes, there is a lithograph printed on the top, in this case of Mumbai city – the imposing facade of the Victoria Terminus, with several red double-decker buses speeding along Churchgate, and a cluster of black and yellow taxis waiting at a red light. My Biji would sometimes muse on what she thought the city of Bombay must be like – overcrowded, super busy, and the hub of celebrities. Although she had never been herself, she would tell me tales from my grandfather’s travels to Bombay.
Sometimes I feel that the threads still hold her smell – at least in my mind. I remember the way she’d change her glasses to near-sighted ones, as she tried to thread the needle, but it mostly missed, so she’d ask me to do it for her. Even though I failed many times, she’d look at me affectionately. Sometimes, even without her asking, I’d insist on doing it – at times she’d let me, other times, deep in concentration, she’d shoo me away! Despite the vividness of her presence, these memories do seem blurry now, but I fondly remember the teenage years I spent with her. She was a comfort, and I could share everything with her without being judged or scolded. There are days I miss her terribly, and on those days, I search for her in the belongings that still remain.
As a sewing essentials kit, this box held colourful threads, needles of all sizes, buttons of different shapes, and even some cash she’d occasionally sneak into it. But for me it was, is and will always be a treasure box, and my Biji, its treasurer. Sometimes, I am surprised to find it just as colourful as before, or maybe I’d like to believe it that way. I’m usually careful whenever I touch it, so I don’t tamper with the fragrance I feel still lingers.
Ordinarily, the box is kept in my grandfather’s drawer with other belongings, and as I stepped in to take its pictures for this piece, his expressions instantly changed to worry. His alert stare as I carried the box conveyed the care and affection he held for his late wife and her possessions. I reassured him that I would return it soon, and only then, did his expressions soften from concerned to calm. Later, when my maternal aunt teased him about the box, he told her that I’d simply taken it to clean. That evening, he spoke to me about Biji, and how she had endured acute pain in her legs, being completely bedridden for the final years of her life, yet hardly complaining about it. She was strong and loving, and he felt blessed to have shared his life with her.
This box has lived with three generations of my family – from being a precious box of toffees, to a storage box for embroidery threads, to my childhood treasure and eventually finding its place in my grandfather’s most cherished things. It isn’t just a simple tin box, but rather a box of memories.
While writing this piece, more than anything, I was pleasantly surprised to still find the sticker of the cartoon character Goofy intact on it – something I’d stuck on as a child – although now faded. It reminded me of my childhood and the days we spent chit-chatting and giggling. The worn out edges carve an impression in my heart of the bygone years that still hold so much love and longing.
People pass away, there is nothing we can do to prevent that fact. But they leave behind memories that are timeless and engraved in our hearts forever. Writing about this box has been an emotional journey for me too. It has taken longer than anticipated, because it has refreshed the long forgotten days from history and the emotions attached to it.
- Vijay Anand, Unforgotten Brands: Nutrine, April 24, 2025 https://onlykutts.com/index.php/2025/04/24/unforgotten-brands-nutrine/ ↩︎