Of Meerut and Mathura (Part 1: Meerut)

First some background: Uttar Pradesh continues to be the most populous state of India and comparable to Brazil in terms of total persons residing (in 2014 at least).  Over the centuries this state and its numerous cities saw Buddha gain enlightment, saw the Turks come and go, became the home of the Nawabs in the Mughal era and changed the course of British colonial rule in India. Today this fertile land is mired in class-related politics and struggling to move ahead as other states in India leap forward.

The towns of Meerut and Mathura, hugely important historically, have shaped me through ancestral connections. I spent many summers in Meerut. Less so in Mathura where my visits were shorter but always interesting as the family dynamics played about. As the next generation of my extended family has started moving out, their ties with these cities and in turn mine have become more tenuous. On my recent visit I decided to capture some of the places and activities that define my memories of these towns.

They are both, like most small towns in India, completely chaotic. The sweet shops, kabadiwallah (paper or rubbish recycle man) and fruit sellers are as ubiquitous as the new malls with Pizza Hut, McD and western-style grocery stores.

I speak about Meerut first, the city that triggered the 1857 Revolution in colonial India which eventually changed the course of the British Empire and that of course shaped the world we see today. This part of the city as seen in the photo below could be called 'Anywhere-in-northern-India'.

 

But only in Meerut can you find Gokul's Sweet Shop (below) selling rewri and gajak. As per family tradition every winter my grandmother and now my uncle and aunt send family members small boxes of this city's famous rewri and gajak.

 

 This is our extended family's home where three generations grew up and the fourth (little children)still visit with their parents.

 

 The front garden is a special place to relax. Its design and the surrounding plants providing a soothing cool from the heat outside. 

 

 This boundary wall has an amusing story from my summer holidays. My cousin and I would climb up and make garlands out of the red and white flowers. One afternoon we were happily doing the same when a group of rural singers appeared at the gate. Aware of warnings about being kidnapped (the Indian version of Stranger Danger) we hastily jumped off and scuttled inside ignoring the pain of scraped knees!

 

 This is the front part of the large multi-level terrace where I spent many hours with my cousins playing, fighting and making up. We also played with two dogs - Frosty (predictably white and fluffy but not particularly friendly to strangers) and later Major (a dalmatian from England and hence named after John Major the UK PM at that time!)

   

 My uncle's Bajaj scootie has seen many seasons change but is still active and has a place of pride that even the car must envy.

  

And this is no average roof gutter at the top of the wall in the photo below. A soon as the monsoon rains came we kids would want to get wet and the best 'man-made waterfall' was the gushing water that poured out from here!

 

 And finally the story of the thief that would jump over this wall if we misbehaved kept us awake all night as we fought mosquitoes and counted stars on cool summer nights when we were allowed to sleep in the courtyard.

 

In those days there was nothing much behind our house except the 'Isayi' or Christian colony which played carols around Christmas time and competed well with the Hindu devotional music that plays on blaring loudspeakers almost anywhere in the country. Now behind us a whole new residential colony has emerged. We saw a lovely house with a cross on it's door, so it seems some of the heritage/ people remain.

 

 

 Billa who runs the corner shop at Gol Chakkar is now a grown man with greying hair. The jalebi shop is still there and so is the presswallah's shop (ironing man). The alleys feel smaller as the big cars jostle through but the kids still cycle their way to school.  Amidst change all around this small familiarity is re-assuring.

 

Did that 'modern' daughter-in-law finally fit in with the family in the big mansion at the corner? Did the girl in Gali No. 3 go overseas? Did those boys on the bike whistling down Abu Lane move to Delhi? So many unfinished tales of good times and bad times. Perhaps a reason for us to keep making the trip back to this place that holds a special place in so many hearts!