My great-great grandfather, Prasanna Mullick was a Dalit farmer, who had settled on the land his family had cleared a generation ago. To support their upward mobility, the family had adopted the upper-caste surname ‘Mullick’ in the mid-nineteenth century. But as the family lore goes, in 1902, the local zamindar, recognizing the growing value of the land, murdered Prasanna in an attempt to steal it.
It is often the quietest, most commonplace objects that bear the loudest testimonies of their owners. And so it is with my grandfather. I have three of his wristwatches in my bedside drawer, the oldest one being a Titan Quartz with a gold dial with roman numerals and a small space at the bottom to indicate the date.
The kurtas Dadiji was pointing at, I later found out, were each hand-embroidered by her between 1975 to early 2000’s for Panditji to wear for his music performances, important meetings and album recordings!
In 1989, my grandfather applied for an India-Bangladesh Passport, the only passport he ever had. This passport was unique in that it allowed lateral movement between India and Bangladesh only. Perhaps this document was the most coveted one for all those who migrated to India from Bangladesh. It holds with it an ocean of memories of struggle and identity.
Ma’s penchant for the handicrafts always mesmerises me. Sewing, embroidery and knitting are her forte.My mother has no exotic buttons in her box. She is not a collector. Her box contains regular, mundane buttons that she thinks she might find useful.
Receive a new story from somewhere in the Indian subcontinent in your inbox every week!