Inglenook and Indian Republic Day

Living in Kashmir 1979-80: A Year of People, Places and Memories

Inglenook

Within the walled sanctuary of the United Nations compound in Srinagar stood a house called Inglenook, a name that conjured precisely what it promised. An inglenook is that most English of things: a cosy recess beside a fire, a place of shelter and warmth carved out against the cold. And cold, in Srinagar, was no small matter.

During the summer months the house was occupied by the Chief of Mission. Observers and administrators of lesser rank found their own lodgings outside the compound walls, scattered through the city. But when the Himalayan winter descended and the mission retreated to Rawalpindi, it became our destiny to remain in Srinagar and occupy this building. My husband was tasked with maintaining the UN presence with administration and other duties as well as responding to the daily radio communications that kept the mission connected to the wider world. The house was ideally situated next door to the Headquarters building so that even in the heaviest snowfall, work was only a few steps across the yard.

Inglenook - February 1980

Inside, the living room was heated with an old bukhari, a squat coal-fired beast that demanded patience and considerable perseverance before it could be coaxed alight. The fumes, when the coal finally caught, were deeply unpleasant. The chimney had been fitted with a right-angle bend to exit through a side wall. The bedrooms were upstairs, so out the side wall the chimney went. 

The floor was covered in a mustard-coloured carpet of a particular ingenuity: it had two sides, one for summer and one for winter. Before the cold weather set in, the carpet had to be turned, because no amount of care could prevent coal dust from embedding itself into the winter side. It was a ritual of the seasons, as dependable as the first frost.

 

A wooden display unit was fixed to the wall at one end of the room. The leaf portraits mentioned in an earlier post about Framing, are clearly visible on these shelves. We used the shelves to display goods purchased through the summer months along with some books and audiocassettes. 

This was before CDs and digital audio. In our Singapore stop over, we had purchased a large stereo cassette player that came with two detachable speakers. The very latest in audio equipment.

Towards the end of our posting an Indian asked if he could borrow our cassette player for a function at his place. We expected it to be returned, but alas that was not what he had in mind. We returned home without recompense for that piece of equipment.

The lounge room 1980

Locally embroidered cushions were displayed along the lounges.

Indian Republic Day

On the 26th January 1980, Australia Day back home, we were in New Delhi and had the opportunity to attend the Republic Day Parade. The occasion marks the adoption of India's Constitution in 1950 and the country's formal transition to a sovereign democratic republic: a day of considerable national pride.

Along with multitudes of onlookers we headed to the ceremonial route to watch the spectacle. Indeed, it was a memorable spectacle. A full-scale parade unfolded before us, marching contingents in immaculate formation, armoured vehicles rolling in solemn procession and fly-pasts threading the sky overhead. 

Woven throughout it all, there was a vibrant cultural pageant of state tableaux representing every corner of the subcontinent. The variety of military dress, the colourful headdresses, the graceful women in their saris, all of it displayed the remarkable diversity of India's peoples. This was much more than just a military parade. 

Our photos were taken over the heads of all the onlookers in front of us. One photo captures the decorated elephants lumbering along, their heads high above the level of the people. The other is of women wrapped in beautiful saris, a swirl of colour on that January day.

Elephants on parade 1980

1980 Republic Day parade

 

We were three, my husband myself and another of Australia’s observers. None of us had ever been in such a huge crowd. When the parade finished and the crowd started to move, I grabbed the back of my husband’s belt and Paul who was behind me held onto my shoulders. Such was the pressure of the crowd we decided to move like this in order to remain together. Pressed forward as a single unit we were swept  along by the human tide.

We returned to our accommodation exhausted, but well satisfied with our experience.

This post first appeared on earlieryears.blogspot.com by CRGalvin