Before you start:
Generally, no guides are produced for art exhibitions. Usually, the painting’s title is sufficient. My posts on social media became popular. Several readers requested that I write about every painting. This guide is a fulfilment of these requests. Due to extremely limited time available, the guide contains errors. Please bear with them.
The numbers before each para are painting numbers. I have tried to place them as they appear while viewing. Not always successful.
12 and 40: My Primary School
My school building was old. The roof consisted of simple tiles resting on aged timber that had been attacked by termites. The exterior was painted in the yellow hue common in those days, while the interior was likely whitewashed. The windows were large. I do not recall clearly whether there were benches inside or if we sat on satranjis (floor mats); I have memories of both, so the seating arrangement likely varied depending on the specific location or situation.
Our teacher wore Khadi clothes—a dhoti and kurta—but did not wear a cap. He carried a distinctive cane in the classroom; it was triangular and curved. I later learned it was made from the *Shindi* (wild date palm) tree. Teachers in those days used to administer corporal punishment quite freely. Our teacher was notorious for being a strict disciplinarian who often used the cane. He had participated in the freedom struggle; once, during a firing incident, a bullet had whizzed right past his ear. On one occasion, when I made a mistake in a math problem, he rapped me on the head with his cane. I returned to my seat, but later, when he realised my answer had actually been correct, he called me over and affectionately ran his hand over my head.
In the first and second grades, most of our schoolwork was done on slate boards. We were asked to bring a slate with a map of Maharashtra’s districts etched onto it; our fathers—mine included—had carved these maps for us. Later, we also started using inkpots and pens. Sometimes, the slate would break. The school was about one and a quarter kilometres from my home, and most of us walked there. When school ended for the day, we would sometimes sing the rhyme, “School is out, the slate is broken.” Even if the slate broke, it could still be used.
35 The Night Sky
When summer arrived, everyone would sleep outdoors at night—some setting up cots in the courtyard, others on the terrace—even when daytime temperatures soared to 115 degrees. Back then, temperatures were measured in Fahrenheit, so the numbers seemed quite impressive. Splashing water on the sun-baked terrace in the evening helped cool it down for the night, though often, even skipping that step was fine.
Before falling asleep, there would be pleasant conversations. The atmosphere was clear, and with few artificial lights around, the view of the sky was magnificent. From the terrace, one could see almost the entire expanse of the heavens; consequently, most people became intimately familiar with the summer night sky, even if they didn’t know the specific names of the stars. If someone knowledgeable was present, one could learn about many of the stars. Often, a moonless night felt preferable to a moonlit one.
It would frequently get quite chilly late at night and in the early hours of the morning; the breeze made the coolness feel more intense. Many people would carry thick blankets with them. Occasionally, a drizzle would fall at night, prompting everyone to roll up their mattresses and move under the shelter or head downstairs from the terrace. If the rain stopped, they would simply return and go back to sleep.
In those days, mosquitoes weren’t a problem. Gradually, people began using air coolers; the water in them led to a rise in the mosquito population, making mosquito nets a necessity. The clear night sky was obscured by these nets, which also restricted airflow and made it feel hotter. Returning to sleep after a spell of rain became difficult, too. Eventually, people stopped sleeping outdoors.
I have a memory of seeing a massive comet in the sky—it was curved, looking somewhat like a broom—though the memory is hazy. My drawing is based on that recollection. Looking back now, it appears that the comet *Ikeya–Seki* had passed by in 1965. It was curved and enormous. I was six years old at the time, and it used to appear in October. That is why sleeping on the terrace at night was out of the question. Memories are just like that.
17 and 42: Tag Games
The game of tag is immensely popular among children all over the world. It involves a contest between the person doing the tagging and the one trying to avoid being tagged. Variety is introduced through various rules and constraints. It is played in many forms—such as *Langdi* (hopscotch-tag), *Zhadavarchi* (tree tag), *Nadi ki Pahad* (river or mountain), *Dip-Dip*, *Ice-Pice*, *Sakhali Shivashivi* (chain tag), and *Andhali Koshimbir* (blindman’s buff). The rules often shift depending on the children playing and the location.
*Sakhali Shivashivi* (chain tag) is usually played when there are more than fifteen children and a large open ground. I believe this game is enjoyed most by children between the ages of 10 and 13. It is best played by children of the same age group; otherwise, the chain might break. At our school, we used to play it during recess.
I have heard that the name *Ice-Pice* originated from the English phrase “I Spy.” However, elements like using a tin can (*dabba*) and getting “out” by being spotted are likely authentically Indian. The tin can used was typically the type of vessel used for carrying water or ghee. Once a can started leaking, it could be kicked and sent flying; the sound it made upon impact was a distinctive feature of the game.
Some of these games were played not in open grounds, but in the immediate vicinity of our homes. There were plenty of hiding spots everywhere, and children of varying ages could join in.
36 and 40: The Traditional Hearth and the Portable Stove
We had a clay hearth (*chul*) at home. I have only a faint memory of it, though my elder brother remembers it well. I recall when we got a gas connection, but not the hearth itself. However, I do remember seeing hearths in other homes back then; they were typically made of clay.
I distinctly remember the portable stove (*shegdi*), though. It remained in the house even after we got gas. There were kerosene stoves—both the pump-operated and wick-based varieties—which were used for a long time. They served as backups when the gas cylinder ran out or during other emergencies. Children in those days knew how to handle fire well, so they could easily manage the *shegdi*. Stoves were a different matter, however. The wick stove was manageable because the flame was steady, but the pump-operated stove was dangerous; the phrase “pin marne” (to pump/press the pin) is a legacy of that device.
Both the *shegdi* and the hearth would keep burning even as the fuel ran low. Tasks like reducing milk were often done on them. In the evenings, when the chill set in, the *shegdi* provided welcome warmth.
8 30 21 33 and 15 Marbles, spinning tops, and *gilli-danda*
Each of these games had its own season for one reason or another. Once a particular game took off, it would be played everywhere. Adults never participated in these games; the trend emerged quite naturally.
There were various types of marbles, including solid blue ones and steel ball bearings (*chharre*); they went by different names. The rules for marbles varied depending on the region—for instance, the way they were played in Western Maharashtra differed—whereas *gilli-danda* generally followed the same set of rules everywhere. Most of these games involved a form of punishment for the loser. In the game of spinning tops, the loser’s top would be subjected to a punishment known as *gucchi*, where the tip of the winner’s top was used to strike and mark the loser’s top. It was considered especially satisfying to inflict *gucchi* on a brand-new top. Marbles, on the other hand, were often won in a manner akin to gambling.
18 and 22 Climbing Trees
A small *Tagar* tree was suitable for children under five to climb. From there, one would move forward by stepping across the branches of a *Chafa* tree. Even if the first branch rising from the trunk was slender, it sufficed; once you reached the branching section, it wasn’t too difficult. However, not all trees were like that. If the tree was a significant one—like a mango tree—one had to employ various tricks; for instance, if there was a nearby wall or some other elevated structure, one would climb that first and then transfer onto the tree.
The tree’s branches needed to be sturdy. Moreover, the branches (or the offshoots) had to be of a thickness that one could comfortably grip with one’s hands. Some trees were quite brittle—meaning a large branch might snap under even slight weight—and such trees were considered dangerous.
Everyone loved climbing guava trees, especially during the summer and winter seasons. This was because one had to carefully inspect the guavas before picking them, and the climber would often devour their favourite ones right there on the spot. Sometimes, however, a person on the ground was needed to point out the best guavas. Guava branches were strong and easy to grip, making the tree relatively simple to climb.
Games known by names such as *Abhadhabi*, *Dabdubni*, and *Surparambya* were played on trees. These were variations of tag games. Since the terrain and the nature of the trees varied, the rules could differ significantly.
16 47 Kabaddi and Horse-Riding
Everyone is familiar with Kabaddi, but ‘horse-riding’—as played here—would likely be new to most. It involves the rough-and-tumble grappling characteristic of Kabaddi. The game ends quickly. A smaller boy rides on the back of a larger boy (the ‘horse’). Because the rider is on his back, the larger boy’s hands are occupied with holding him; the smaller boy clasps the rider’s neck with one arm, leaving his other hand free.
Two such pairs—each consisting of a ‘horse’ and a rider—confront each other; the pair whose rider falls loses. The larger boys shove each other, while the smaller boys grapple using one hand, sometimes even resorting to using their fingernails. Generally, the game concludes within a minute.
Kabaddi was a favourite sport of mine. Since I had good lung capacity, I would feign a retreat only to launch a final, decisive move—often a leg-hook or a kick. If my leg got caught, my technique was to throw myself flat onto the ground and scramble to reach the centre line. It worked well initially, but as opponents got used to my style, I started getting tackled, and that effectively marked the end of my Kabaddi days.
34 48 Songtya and Lagori
The games we played were quite inexpensive. For cricket, a ball and a borrowed bat and stumps were usually all that was needed. In those days, any game played with a ball tended to be expensive. For the game of *Lagori*, broken pottery shards were used—specifically pieces of clay roof tiles or earthen pots; using these made stacking the *Lagori* tower more challenging, which added to the fun.
‘Songtya’ was another such game. It was always played while sitting on the ground. Dice were required for it; while cowrie shells were commonly used as dice, split tamarind seeds also served the purpose.
These games were incredibly exciting, though they sometimes ended in arguments. Most disputes were resolved within the group itself, but if that didn’t happen, a rift would develop between the contending parties for a while.
Children are excellent innovators; they possess the ability to alter the rules and nature of a game. Children remain the same way even today. But what about adults?
26 11: The Tin-Coater and the Puncture Repairer
Street hawkers used to sell a wide variety of goods—even items like bangles that weren’t needed very often. Milkmen would arrive with milk-filled jars. Toy sellers, vendors of roasted chickpeas and puffed rice, knife sharpeners, and others would call out as they walked along the street. Each had a distinctive rhythm and tone to their call; even if you didn’t catch the exact words, you knew exactly who had arrived. The *kalhai-wala* (tin-coater) was one such figure. He carried a small sack containing some coal, a leather bellows, a few tools, cotton swabs, a special powder, and a small tin container.
If he was summoned to one house, the five or ten neighbouring households would soon find out. To start the work, he would dig a small pit in the ground, fill it with coal, bury a blowpipe in it, and attach the leather bellows to the pipe. By pumping the bellows, he could generate intense heat from the coals. He would sprinkle the powder into the vessel being heated, creating white smoke, and then spread it evenly using the cotton swab. Watching the tin-coating process was always fascinating.
The work of the roadside puncture repairer was equally interesting. First, he had to locate exactly where and how many punctures there were. Then, he would seal them using specific pieces of rubber. This rubber would melt when heated and bond firmly in place. Finally, he would submerge the tube in water to verify that the repair was successful.
Most people preferred visiting their trusted, regular shops. However, some puncture repairers set up in less busy spots. To drum up business, they would sometimes break a bottle on the road, forcing cyclists to ride very carefully. These repairers, who worked without any overhead shelter, could usually be found every two or three hundred meters along the street.
23 13 Prayer and Punishment
Daily prayers were held in the secondary and higher secondary school. Our music teacher would play the harmonium and sing, while everyone joined in with folded hands. Since we were just boys, there was bound to be some mischief. Often, the person being targeted by the prank would react more visibly than the prankster himself. Some would parody the prayer; for instance, while singing the line “Ananta, do not test my limits” (*Ananta ant nako pahū*), if a boy named Ananta happened to be standing nearby, they would shout the word “Ananta” loudly right into his ear. If caught, the restless boys risked getting a slap across the face. However, no one would ever report these incidents to each other’s families. What the boys feared most was their parents finding out about the punishments received at school; the humiliation of the punishment itself didn’t bother them much.
After the prayer, students from a particular class would share a “thought for the day.” Every teacher had a secret nickname. If a student cleverly incorporated that nickname into the quote, it would trigger a burst of laughter. The teachers would simply pretend not to notice, and there was no punishment for this. Since these teachers were much milder than the ones at my primary school, I wasn’t particularly bothered by it.
Similar mischief and punishments occurred in the classroom as well; the only difference was the degree of severity, depending on the specific teacher.
10. The ‘Bamb’
A ‘bamb’ refers to a water boiler fueled by wood or coal. Today, the word is primarily heard in the context of a ‘bambkhana’ (a traditional bathhouse). In my childhood home and neighbourhood, the ‘bamb’ was a small appliance used to heat water for bathing and washing clothes. As a child, I used to light the fire in it myself. To do this, I had to prepare the grate at the bottom by arranging coconut husks, coal, and dried cow-dung cakes. Pieces of coal and firewood were then stacked on top. Among the various household chores I had to do occasionally, this was one I truly enjoyed.
By the time I started college, our home had switched to using electricity. Looking back at that old method today, issues like ‘carbon footprint’ (carbon emissions) and the inefficiency of the heating process come to mind. Those boilers lacked any insulation or smoke-containment systems. Yet, the effort required to light the fire and heat the water made us use the water judiciously. How would the carbon footprint of that old method compare to the immense water consumption seen today?
32, 38 – Peti, Holdall
I do not know whose idea it was to use a tin trunk for school. Once introduced, it became a durable item that effectively protected one’s notebooks and textbooks. In those days, people used heavy tin trunks for travel, but the school trunk was made of aluminium. While walking to school, it would rub against one’s leg, leaving black marks—suggesting it likely contained lead.
“Holdall” was the name given to the bedroll of that era, though this version was stitched from sturdy canvas. It featured compartments and was secured by two leather straps, with an additional central strap serving as a handle for lifting. During travel, it could be unrolled to sleep on, much like a standard bedroll, though it was rather short in length. The *Tambya* (a metal vessel) with a screw-on lid served as the water bottle of the time; for travel, it was usually made of aluminium.
33 Experiments
Chemistry experiments—especially those involving gas emissions or the creation of colourful crystals—were fascinating to watch. We would gather the necessary materials and perform them somewhere out of the adults’ sight. Some children even received help from their elders.
41 Circus
The circus used to be a source of great entertainment until I was about 10 or 11 years old. Later, it began to feel repetitive. Tigers and lions would appear and jump through rings of fire; the ringmaster would crack his whip; the clown would act scared, and so on. These acts were the main attraction. Another highlight was the trapeze acrobatics. I believe at least fifty people were working in the circus. They were the ones who pitched the tents, performed the stunts, cared for the animals, cooked the meals, and slept right there on the premises. It made little difference which company it was; the experience remained much the same. There were short, thrilling acts like the ‘Globe of Death,’ knife-throwing, and the human cannonball. Years later, at my brother’s insistence, I watched a circus again. It was the same tent, but everything else seemed rather pitiful. That was likely the last circus I ever saw. This time, instead of taking photographs, I sketched the tent and the seating area, and used those sketches later.
43. Girls’ Games and Chores
Even though the school was co-educational, there was a sense of social distance between the boys and the girls—something that hadn’t existed in primary school. Their games were distinct, too; girls would jump rope while singing songs and play games like *Sagargote* (knucklebones) and *Tikkar Billa* (hopscotch). However, games like *Lagori* could be played together. There was no gender distinction when it came to indoor games like cards or *Songtya* (board games). Daily chores like grinding grain on a hand-mill or pounding it in a mortar were no longer part of the routine, and there was a maid to wash the clothes. Sprinkling water and sweeping the courtyard (*sada*) was a task required in the summer, and boys and men would often do it too.
20 Hostel Room
It was just 80 sq.ft. A bed, a table, a chair, one bulb, one cupboard. But it was mine. It was never shared. As I was nearing graduation, a ceiling fan was added. As we were graduating, the room situation got a little worse. First-year students started sharing the 80 sq. ft for a few months. Conditions continued to worsen, and today nearly all undergraduate students share.
During that time, I had 15 neighbours called wingmates. Wingmates shared, supported and talked more often than other hostelmates. During vacations, we went home. We came carrying home-cooked food. Naturally, wingmates shared. These were conversation-rich evenings.
Otherwise, we also gathered. But the food-sharing session gathered max.
In my upcoming exhibition “Memories” to be held at Nehru Centre Art Gallery between 8-14 September, the painting of the hostel room is also there, along with many others. More about them some other time. Do visit. The date is coming nearer.
2 24 5 Lounge, Volleyball, Swimming
I used to play volleyball—mostly using the ‘direct’ style—ever since my school days. Since I wasn’t very tall, I never quite managed to execute powerful spikes or smashes. I continued playing in college, sticking to that same direct style and hitting shots close to the net. Later, as players who could actually spike the ball joined in, the game evolved to include more setting and passing.
There was a lounge in the hostel—which housed about 250 students—where one could sit comfortably and read daily newspapers and magazines. It had enough space for 10–12 people to sit comfortably, which was sufficient. A carrom board was kept there too, and sometimes hours would simply fly by while playing.
I have swum in many places, but I enjoyed swimming in natural lakes the most. I always loved the calm, vast expanse of water there.
2. Breakfast
The breakfast menu was fixed: toast, some form of egg dish, or milk and tea. Although it was a daily routine, hardly anyone disliked it. In our time, almost everyone had to take two exams every week, and these were held right at the start of the day—at 8:30 AM. Consequently, half the group would have an exam scheduled around breakfast time. Those who did would spend the final moments studying or discussing the subject with one another. The atmosphere would be tense whenever an exam was set by a teacher known for creating difficult papers. Some students, having stayed up late, would oversleep, so their wingmates would wake them up in time.
19. The Corridor
Our institution had a very long, straight corridor. There was also a narrow, long corridor right in front of our room. The hostel was usually bustling with activity, but it wasn’t like that during the summer and winter vacations. During the summer break, a few students would stay back to complete pending coursework, but in winter, even they wouldn’t be around.
Whenever a sense of solitude set in, I would sit on the narrow ledge of the wall facing our room and spend time in quiet reflection.
28. The Punching Room
Early computers were massive. Unlike today’s machines, they didn’t have screens. We used punch cards to create programs. A single card could hold roughly 65 to 70 characters—and even that space was limited. Initially, we would write the program on paper, and the punch operators would transfer it onto cards. They would verify the cards and place them in a tray; the results would arrive the following day. If there were errors, we had to identify them from the output, correct them, and wait another day. Later, I started punching my own cards. As my programs grew larger, the output would take five or six days—rather than just one—to arrive.
All of this made us much more careful. We learned how to write concise programs. Eventually, when I had a complex, calculation-heavy program involving five or six hundred cards, I had to go to a large institution in South Mumbai to get the work done.
8. Bumps
When a boy received something like a scholarship, a job, or a prize, his friends would grab his limbs and toss him horizontally into the air to congratulate him. This would be done a few times to complete the ritual. I now realise that people in England do something similar on birthdays.
25-14 Concrete Gangs, Depot Concrete
In the 80s and 90s, ‘concrete gangs’ virtually dominated concrete work. Contrary to what the name might suggest, these were not criminal groups; they were teams of hardworking construction labourers. They were experts in handling materials, though uneducated in the traditional sense.
They were hired for a single task: concreting. They used their own equipment—pans (*ghamelas*), compacting rods, and wooden scaffolding—to transport and place the material. Apart from a mechanical concrete mixer (usually rented), they used almost no other machinery. They operated with remarkable coordination. It was very difficult to communicate with them while they were working; they managed the mix themselves and achieved the desired efficiency. Despite poor-quality shuttering standards and, in some places, congested steel reinforcement, they managed to place the concrete effectively without excessive loss of slurry. Their concrete never adhered to standard volumetric proportioning norms; they consistently used more sand than was permissible at the time.
Modernisation arrived gradually, bringing with it ‘designed concrete’ mixes. Whenever I analysed these mixes, I noticed that they, too, contained a high proportion of sand. Much like the manual concrete gangs of the past, designed mixes often incorporate excess sand.
4 29 Drawing Office and Ammonia Printing
In a structural engineer’s office during the 1980s, there used to be a dedicated section for drafting drawings. This area required ample space for drawing boards and high stools; it was also a hub for various discussions. Drafting pens and stencils were used to create the designs. While working, one could view the entire plan at a single glance. Engineers primarily relied on calculators and slide rules for their work.
Computers were introduced initially for calculations and later for drafting. Computer screens were small, making it impossible to view the entire design at once. While this certainly saved time, it somewhat diminished the depth of understanding regarding the subject matter, leading to an increase in errors.
The ammonia printing section was always permeated with the smell of ammonia. It was a tedious job. The resulting prints had a bluish tint. This section was an integral part of the office setup.
Working manually fosters a better understanding of the subject. Perhaps this is what drew me towards painting. Painting is a process done entirely by hand; it is a slow, deliberate process in which I can become completely immersed.