Memory
 is a powerful thing. When we look six decades back, we're filled with 
an unparalleled sense of pride at the epic movements of history that 
brought us to this stage. But what about the little details? 
We 
gathered fragments - stories from people's lives, clippings from old 
newspapers and photographs from dusty albums and strung them together to
 bring you an essence of how we lived from 1940-49...
FIRST PERSON ACCOUNTS
1. TARA GANDHI BHATTACHARJEE
[Mahatma Gandhi's granddaughter]
People
 see Gandhi as the Father of the Nation, but I knew him as a doting 
grandfather. As kids, we looked forward to his evening prayers with a 
sense of enthusiasm and entertainment. Every moment of being with Gandhi
 was an adventure.
He was often travelling through Delhi and 
since papa [Devdas Gandhi] edited a nationalist daily (The Hindustan 
Times) in Delhi, Bapuji and Ba stayed with us. 
Initially, we lived 
at Kingsway Camp and subsequently moved into a big house at Connaught 
Circus, in the same premises as the newspaper's printing press. The 
roaring press machines were like lullaby music for us. 
Bapu 
liked to stay in Harijan bastis, ashrams or prisons. That's where our 
holidays were spent. We used to visit him in a prison, or at a station 
if his train would pass by. 
Once we visited him at Pune's Aga Khan 
Palace, where he was kept under house arrest. Kasturba was ill and 
looked frail. I must have been 10. Ba looked at me and said, "I have a 
gift for you." When I saw the khadi sari, the first of my life, with its
 embroidered border, I was so thrilled I wanted to run away with it. 
Bapu didn't encourage gifting among family. "You won't ask me to give it
 to anybody else?" I asked. At that time Bapu was spinning the charkha 
and he nodded. It meant the world to me. 
My father was fond of 
eating out. We'd go to the Old Delhi Railway Station, buy a platform 
ticket and eat in the dining hall. Those were the best meals I've ever 
had. 
My first lessons in etiquette were courtesy Bapuji. Sir 
Stafford Cripps, a member of the Labour Party, was in India with the 
Cripps mission. Bapu introduced me to him and said, "Please meet my 
granddaughter, she is the daughter of my youngest son." I was proud to 
be shaking hands with an Englishman for the first time. I thought it was
 an opportune moment to display my English-speaking skills. So, when Sir
 Cripps asked, "How do you do?" I broke into a long story about how I 
had fever the previous day and how I couldn't go to school. Bapu took me
 aside and said in Hindi, "When someone says 'How do you do', never give
 them so many details about your health." I was shattered. Not only had I
 failed in English, the man who placed such emphasis on health had asked
 me not to give out such detail. Every letter Gandhi wrote, whether to 
Lala Lajpat Rai, or Leo Tolstoy, or Nehru, started with a line enquiring
 about their well-being. 
I remember January 30, 1948 clearly. I 
was in class 8 and was busy with homework. Then the phone first rang and
 someone said: 'Bapuji par goli chal gayi'. The person called again. The
 third time I realised he was serious. My parents rushed to Birla House 
and there I saw my father sobbing and Nehruji sitting quietly. My 
father, in tears, came up to me and said, "Taru, Bapuji ko pranam karo".
 Then the entire world seemed to have gone into mourning. 
(as told to Aasheesh Sharma)

15th August 1947, Independence Day celebrations at Rajpath, New Delhi. Photo: Nehru memorial museum and library
 
2. SYDNEY REBEIRO
[Former professor of English and dean (Culture) at Delhi University]
Ours
 is a fifth-generation Delhi family. My father's family moved to the 
Walled City area in 1909, two years before the Delhi Durbar was 
established. 
My father was employed with the Pune Rifles.
 We lived in what was Delhi's most culture-rich and education-rich 
square mile. It had the Civil Lines, Hamilton Road, Tees Hazari and 
Kashmere Gate. It is in Kashmere Gate that the setting up of Delhi 
University was proposed by Viceroy Daniel Isaacs, which the British 
opposed. The Dara Shikoh library and the district courts were here. The 
Delhi Polytechnic (which later became the Delhi College of Art) was also
 in the area, so was Hindu College and the new St. Stephen's building. 
We
 stayed in a building called Rahman Manzil. Our neighbour and family 
friend was the author Nirad C Chaudhuri, who at that time worked as a 
clerk with All India Radio located on Alipur Road, where the Clarks 
Maidens Hotel used to stand. 
I was born in 1942, the year
 of the Quit India Movement. In 1946, there was talk about India 
breaking free from the shackles of the British. The Anglo-Indians were 
caught in a unique situation. The general public perceived us to be 
close to the British because of our European lifestyle. But we were not 
entirely accepted by the British. I used to say Anglo-Indians were the 
most thoroughbred half-castes in civilisation. Well, we have managed 
beautifully, producing a Cliff Richard and a Ruskin Bond. 
Our
 family chose to stay back. In 1940, my mom was appointed the first 
postmistress of India and my father got a deputation with the Delhi 
Improvement Trust which would carve out the New Delhi district and go on
 to become the DDA. Mom, referred to as 'dak khane ki memsaab' by 
colleagues, stood out when just one per cent of India's workforce was 
female. 
Established in the 1930s, the Gidney Club in 
Connaught Circus was where the Anglo-Indian community met and celebrated
 Christmas and anniversaries and attended the May Queen Ball. Ritz 
Cinema was next door to us. I remember watching The Adventures of 
Captain Marvel here. The Hindi cinemas in our neighbourhood were Novelty
 and Minerva and I was a big Dev Anand fan. Kashmiri Gate also had the 
Carlton Restaurant. It is here that the famous Rudy Cotton band, led by 
one of as one of India's greatest jazz saxophonists, performed live. 
On
 15th August, 1947, there was electricity in the air. We attended a 
special service at St James (Delhi's oldest church set up in 1836). 
After a meal at Carlton, we bought a tricolour and proudly displayed it 
from our window. Rahman Manzil was lit up with hundreds of lamps and 
people burst crackers and lit sparklers to ring in a pre-Diwali Diwali. 
We had a party at home. At that time we didn't have proper record 
players, so someone began strumming a guitar. Even as a four-year-old, I
 knew it was a special day. The image of a tricolour fluttering out of 
our window has always stayed with me. 
(As told to Aasheesh Sharma) 

ON
 THE ROAD TO FREEDOM: A father and a son pose with volunteer scouts, as 
crowds (many on bicycles) throng the Red Fort to celebrate Independence 
Day on August 15, 1947 
 
 
3. SM SIBTAIN
[Former deputy director, Delhi Public Library]
I
 was seven years old when India gained independence in 1947. The Mazarul
 Islam School, Farashkhana (near Chandni Chowk) where I studied, gave us
 tricolour toffees as part of the celebrations. 
We led a different life - we learnt the alphabet with slate and chalk (slates were cleaned with multani mitti). 
My
 mother wore ghararas at home and my father, who worked in the Municipal
 Committee, wore a khaki hat to work and a felt hat for special 
occasions.
Though we had electricity at home since the late 1920s, we
 only had a few pedestal fans. Ceiling fans were not available in the 
market. The old-fashioned, big hand-pulled pankhas mounted on the walls 
and khus-khus pardahs kept the heat out. Kerosene lamps lit up the 
evenings. 
Tongas were the preferred mode of transport since 
buses and cars were very few. Women hardly ventured out, and even if 
they had to go across the street, a doli was called for. However, this 
changed post-Independence as dolis disappeared overnight, and my mother 
visited the market in a hand-pulled rickshaw.
Cooking was a 
different ritual. You had to blow at the fire to start the chulha, and 
all the masalas were ground by hand. There was meat every day - made 
with vegetables or in the form of mouth-watering nihari. 
On Fridays, when the butcher shops would be shut, there would be khichdi for lunch, which made all the kids upset. 
The
 radio was a source of entertainment. However, we were more interested 
in playing hide and seek and gilli danda than cinema or music. A plane 
passing overhead was the highlight of the day for all children!
Of
 course, there was a flipside to Independence too - the chaos that the 
Partition brought with it. As Faiz said, it was a "dagh dagh ujala…". 
(As told to Zehra Kazmi)
WHAT WE SPENT AND HOW WE SPENT ITPaper
 money in the 1940s, printed at the Currency Note Press in Nasik, 
featured the face of King George VI. By August 1940, when a new Re 1 
note was introduced during war time, notes displayed a new feature - the
 security thread. After Independence, it was felt that the King's 
portrait be replaced by a portrait of Mahatma Gandhi. The |consensus 
moved to the choice of the Lion Capital at Sarnath in lieu of the Gandhi
 portrait, according to the Reserve Bank of India website. Since 1835, 
Re 1 equalled 16 annas. By 1957, Re 1 equalled 100 naya paise and 
eventually today's regular paise.
Value for money
Gold prices
As of 1947, the price of 10 grams of gold was Rs 88.62. Today it is closer to Rs 29,000.
The dollar rate
It
 was exactly $1 = Re 1. You read right; one rupee was equal to one US 
dollar in value as at Independence, there were no external borrowings on
 India's balance sheet. Devaluation began with the first five-year plan.
 Today one US dollar is close to Rs 61.
What Re 1 could buy 
The
 average yearly inflation for 1948-2013 is 6.55 per cent. So what cost 
Re 1 in 1947, now costs about Rs 59.27, an increase of 5827.00 per cent.
 
VALUE FOR MONEY
Shaving blade: 7 o'clock slotted blades, double edged, were priced at 12 annas for a packet of 10
Book: Tenali Rama by ASP Ayyar, Rs 2
Rain Coat: Rainy Coat (water-proof) from Cooch Behar Industries Rs 4
Radio: Emerson Radio (Model 517) Rs 175
Tobacco: Ogden's Coolie Cut Plug tobacco (Rs 3/4 per 4oz tin)
THE WAY WE DRESSEDAccording
 to textile historian Rta Kapur Chishti, author of Saris of India, the 
contemporary urban style, or the five-and-a-half-metre drape in which 
the pallu goes front to back across the left shoulder, became the 
standard for working women across India after Independence. But the 
style has its genesis in the late 19th century. 
"It is said that 
Gyanodanandini, wife of Satyendranath Tagore, the elder brother of 
Rabindranath, went with her civil servant husband to Bombay around the 
1860s and adopted the Parsi way of wearing the sari. At that time, the 
local Bengali style wasn't considered elegant for outdoor wear (it 
wasn't worn with a petticoat and blouse). Gyanoda even opened a school 
in Calcutta to teach draping styles," says Chishti. 

After Independence, young women began experimenting with more salwar-kameez styles
 
 
Textiles
 expert Jasleen Dhamija shifted to Delhi in 1940 from Abbotabad in 
Pakistan. "My family had links with the Congress. We didn't wear 
synthetics and my sister wore khadi," says Dhamija, 79. She recalls how 
the elite and the royalty wore chiffons and nylons and the aam aadmi 
donned mill-made dhotis. Saris could have been sourced from mills or 
from local weavers. But with the chiffon classes, the urge to ape Europe
 was apparent. "Saris looked like curtains since the patterns were 
filched from wallpapers and bathroom tiles," she says.
After
 Independence, the young Dhamija became more experimental. In 1948, when
 she was in college at Miranda House, she and her friends visited Pahar 
Ganj. "We bought the fabric that wives of workers used for odhnis and 
lugdis and created salwar-kameezes." 
HOW THE READING HABIT GREWWe
 didn't read much - we couldn't. The adult literacy rate in 1941 was 
16.1 per cent (it is now 74.04 per cent). But Indian writing of the time
 was tinted with the advent of Marxism on the literary scene in the 
1930s. Writers were re-examining their relationship with social reality.
 Here are some works published in the '40s for some perspective:
Twilight
 in Delhi (1940) by Ahmed Ali: It is the story of Mir Nahal and his 
family - an upper middle class Muslim household in the now old Delhi. 
This was also the first novel to call for freedom from British rule.
The
 Sword and the Sickle (1942) by Mulk Raj Anand: The final part of a 
trilogy, it is about a Sikh sepoy, who after fighting in France and 
being imprisoned in Germany, comes back to India. The book also deals 
with the rise of Indian Communism. 
The English Teacher (1945) by
 RK Narayan A semi-autobiographical book, it is about an English teacher
 in Narayan's fictionalized town, Malgudi, and how he deals with the 
death of his wife.
IT ALL ADS UP TO MARKETINGThe 
early decades of the twentieth century had seen the entry of several new
 advertising firms, both Indian and foreign. Most ads were published in 
English language newspapers. They were neatly laid out, mostly 
typographical and featured excellent illustrations. 

some ADs from newspapers of 1947
 
 
By
 the 1940s, the ads reflected the nationalistic spirit of the decade. 
The quality of life in the '30s and '40s had considerably improved. 
Delhi, Bombay, Calcutta and Madras were big markets for most products 
and hence, for advertising in general. As the middle class rose, the 
advertising focus shifted from luxury goods to convenience-driven 
consumer goods. Ads for foreign products made by foreign ad agencies 
were also Indianised. Lux signed actress Leela Chitnis to endorse the 
soap in 1941, the illustrations in the ads were also made to look 
Indian. 
REIGN OF MELANCHOLIC MELODIESActor-singer 
KL Saigal ruled the '40s like a collossus, says historian Pran Nevile. 
"His popularity didn't diminish with his death in 1947. Noor Jehan was 
the most popular leading lady. After 1947, she moved to Pakistan and 
Suraiyya took her place." A few big hits of 1947 included these: 
1. Yahan Badla Wafa Ka from JUGNU, Singers: Mohd Rafi and Noor Jehan, Composer: Feroze Nizami, Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni
One of the first hits of Mohd Rafi, the duet was picturised on Dilip Kumar and Noor Jehan. The lyrics are remembered even today.
2. Afsana Likh Rahi Hoon Dil-e-Beqarar Ka from DARD, Singer: Uma Devi, Composer: Naushad, Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni
Sung
 by Tun Tun, the well-endowed comedienne, the mellifluous song was 
composed by Naushad. Shakeel Badayuni's words were full of longing. 
Sample this: Ji chaahataa hai munh bhi na dekhun bahaar kaa.
3. Hum Dard Ka Afsana Duniya Ko Suna Denge from DARD, Singer: Shamshad Begum, Composer: Naushad, Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni
Sung
 in Shamshad Begum's inimitable voice, it is filmed on orphaned 
children. The words tug at the heart strings: Ham par bhee karam karna, 
ham tum ko dua denge. Poignant!
4. Mera Sundar Sapna Beet Gaya from DO BHAI, Singer: Geeta Dutt, Composer: SD Burman, Lyrics: Raja Mehdi Ali Khan
O chhod ke janewale aa in Geeta Dutt's soulful voice had the nation singing the blues.
5. Sunday Ke Sunday from SHEHNAI, Singers: Meena Kapoor and Chitalkar Ramchandra, Composer: C Ramchandra, Lyrics: PL Santoshi
Comic and entertaining, it was soon ruling the charts!

Movies,
 monsoon, Magic: The scene outside Mumbai’s Metro cinema, shot in 1947. 
The Regal and Eros were the other other popular theatres where both 
English and Hindi movies ran to packed houses 
 
CINEMA, CINEMA, CIRCA 1947
Going
 to the movies was one of the biggest forms of entertainment in the late
 1940s. Delhiites flocked to Regal, Rivoli, Plaza and Odeon. Mumbaikars 
bought tickets at The Regal, Metro, Liberty and Eros. Here are some of 
the biggest grossing movies of 1947 (tales of the freedom struggle are 
conspicuous by their absence).
Top 6 grossers of 1947
* Jugnu: Rs 50 lakh
* Do Bhai: Rs 45 lakh
* Dard: Rs 40 lakh
* Mirza Sahibaan: Rs 35 lakh
* Shehnai: Rs 32 lakh
* Elaan: Rs 30 lakh
(Earnings in net gross; source: boxofficeindia.com)
1. JUGNU
Cast: Dilip Kumar and Noor Jehan Director: Shaukat Hussain Rizvi Music: Feroze Nizami
Synopsis:
 Dilip Kumar's father is a Rai Bahadur who lives in a palatial house 
with a chauffeur and attendants but is on the lookout for a family that 
would shell out (incredible as it may sound!) two lakh rupees in dowry 
for his eligible son. The leading lady Jugnu (Noor Jehan) is asked to 
sacrifice her love by her boyfriend's mom. And so the story ends on a 
tragic note, as was the case in many movies of the 1940s.

Dilip
 Kumar and Noor Jehan in Jugnu, one of the biggest box-office success of
 1947. A campus romance, the film’s music and strong social subtext with
 an anti-dowry message stood out even then
 
Watch
 it for: Noor Jehan's singing, the rakish looks of young Dilip Kumar and
 the way the film tackles the subject of dowry. A young Mohammed Rafi 
does a cameo as Dilip Kumar's hostel mate! 
2. DARD
Cast: Badri Prasad, Suraiya, Munawwar Sultana Jehan
Director: Shaukat Hussain Rizvi Music: Feroze Nizami
Synopsis:
 The love triangle is the story of an orphan who is indebted to the 
nawab who adopts him and helps him become a doctor. The nawab's daughter
 likes him, but he falls in love with the daughter of a patient. 
Watch
 it for: The beautiful talaffuz in chaste Urdu: Sample how Suraiya 
pampers Sultana. "Hamam tayyar hai. Ghusal karlo, behen," she says, when
 her bath is ready.
3. MIRZA SAHIBAN
Cast: Noor Jehan, Trilok Kapoor Director: K Amarnath 
Music: Pandit Amarnath and Husnlal Bhagatram
Synopsis:
 Mirza, once the naughtiest boy in the village, falls in love with 
Sahiban. But Mirza's arch enemy is also head-over-heels in love with 
Sahiban and is irked that she prefers Mirza. He takes advantage of 
village gossip to fuel Sahiban's brother's anger against the couple. 
They are forced to separate. The couple try to get back together, but 
like all old love stories, their love is doomed. 
Watch
 it for: The beautiful music and Trilok Kapoor (Prithviraj Kapoor's 
brother and a thoroughbred Kapoor). See it as a precursor to Bollywood's
 affair with classic love stories such as Heer Ranjha and Sohni Mahiwal.
 
4. SHEHNAI
Cast: VH Desai, Indumati and Kishore Kumar 
Director: PL Santoshi
Music: C Ramchandra
Watch
 it for: The jazz-influenced compositions of C Ramchandra which were 
like a spot of sunshine in the otherwise gloomy film music scene. The 
song Aana Meri Jaan, Sunday Ke Sunday became an anthem for the young at 
heart. 
THE WAY INDIA NAMED ITS LANDMARKS IN DELHIThese
 landmarks that add to New Delhi's splendour had very English-sounding 
names. But they were symbols of the British Raj, and we Indianised them.
 
* Rajpath: This sprawling boulevard was known as King's Way. 
*
 Parliament House: Formerly the Council House, this building was 
designed by British architects Edwin Lutyens and Herbert Baker - 
responsible for the planning and construction of New Delhi. Covering 
nearly six acres, its diameter is 560 feet. 
* India Gate: With a 
height of 42 metres (designed by Lutyens), it was known as the All-India
 War Memorial, and has the names of the Indian soldiers who died during 
World War I etched on its surface. 
* Rashtrapati Bhavan: Designed by Lutyens, this structure has four floors and 340 rooms, and was known as the Viceroy House. 
* Janpath: An important part of Lutyens' design of Delhi, it was known as Queen's Way.
IN MUMBAIIn 1947, Bombay was still part of the Bombay Presidency. Now-defunct addresses reflect the life of the time.
* Banian Road: From Bania, a trading caste who had houses there.
*
 Beef Lane, Bhajipala Street, Dukar Wady, Kasai Street, Kitchen Garden 
Lane, Milk Street and Mutton Street: Areas that had butcheries, 
vegetable bazaars, piggeries, produce gardens, buffalo stables or meat 
shops.
* Depot Lane: It led to a night-soil depot situated at the end of the lane and was known among residents as name Hagri Galli.
* Garibdas Street: "Garibdas" meant "your humble servant " and appeared to be a coveted title for a Bombay landlord to own.
* Gunpowder Road: Named after the powder magazine there.
* Palki Gully: So called because palanquins, used by Khojas at weddings, were kept here for hire. 
* Scandal Point: A popular place to rendezvous.
THE WAY WE TRAVELLEDBack
 then, if you had wheels perhaps you'd already know what freedom would 
taste like. Cars were symbols of prosperity. Trams chugged along our 
roads, new bus routes were being charted out, streets were filled with 
people cycling to work. The tonga was another favoured mode of 
transport.

The horse carriage was a preferred mode of transport, though now it serves mostly as a tourist attraction. 
 
THE FLAVOURS DILLIWALLAS SAVOURED
The
 first 10 years of the Nehruvian period from 1947 to 1957 were decisive 
in shaping what the city would acquire a taste for. Partition refugees 
brought with them the tandoor. "The idea of eating home-cooked food 
prepared at the roadside by another refugee family at a moderate price 
appealed to homeless refugees. This was the genesis of Delhi's dhaba 
tradition," says food historian Pushpesh Pant. 
Kebabs,
 burra and Kandhari food became the staple at restaurants. At the same 
time, original Dehlavi food survived this onslaught - poori, bedami and 
methi ki chutney still tickled the palate of Old Delhi families. But 
people were acquiring a taste for paneer and maa ki dal. A favourite 
with those who relished a mean maa ki dal was Moti Mahal in Darya Ganj, 
recall old-timers. Monish Gujral, grandson of KL Gujral, credited with 
popularising the Peshawari delicacy, says the Darya Ganj restaurant, set
 up in 1947, was a social leveller. "Till then, fine dining was 
restricted to Europeans and Indians with titles. Moti Mahal opened its 
doors to all classes: a restaurant where an auto driver could be seen 
dining with an industrialist," says Gujral. 

Embassy Restaurant was a favourite with many Delhi families. 
 
Once
 the refugees found their feet in the city, the action shifted back to 
Connaught Place. Wenger's was popular with lovers of good confectionery.
 Even as the elite coveted a table at Gaylord's, government servants did
 not shy away from Kwality, which set up shop in 1939. Pant recalls how 
his father celebrated his confirmation as a Gazetted Officer at Wenger's
 as a live band played. Embassy was the place to head for when the 
family had to be treated to an elegant Indian repast. And United Coffee 
House, which opened in 1942, was the haunt of the arty crowd that loved 
its juke box. 
HOW MUMBAI DINEDThe
 good news is that the Bombaywalla was no stranger to eating out, even 
in the 1940s. Pancham Puriwala, right opposite the GPO at Fort, was 
serving up meals back then. Colaba was home to The Wayside Inn, where Dr
 Ambedkar drafted nearly half of India's Constitution at a table in the 
late '40s. Cafe Royal opposite The Regal was popular with locals and the
 iconic watering holes Leopold Cafe (which had opened in 1871 as a 
general store) and Cafe Mondegar were thriving. 
In Kalbadevi and
 Bhuleshwar, the flourishing cotton trade of the previous decades meant a
 steady inflow of traders from Gujarat. Single, male and on a budget, 
they'd find sustenance at little dining halls that served home food for a
 few annas a day. In 1945, Govindram Shankarji Joshi and four of his 
friends from Rajkot started The Friends Union Joshi Club, an eating 
house with a monthly meal service.
In the new, ordered suburb of 
Matunga, you could get a full South-Indian meal at Mani's Lunch Home 
(which opened in 1937) or Rama Nayal Udipi (which opened in 1942). For a
 Sunday evening sundae, it was Bachelorr's on Marine Drive. And for 
anyone with cash, there was always the plush Taj Mahal Hotel.
PRICES
* A plate of mutton biryani at Britannia & Co, Mumbai was Rs 2.50. Today, Rs 400
* At Manis Lunch Home, Mumbai, a Set Meal cost only 6 aanas. Now it costs Rs 120
*
 A coffee cost just 90 paise at United Coffee House. Now it costs Rs 
115. A chicken sandwich here cost just 90 paise then. Now it costs Rs 
125 
* Four dozen lemon tarts cost only Rs 4 at Delhi's Wenger's Bakery.
THE ARTS AND THE CITYThe
 year 1947 was a moment of great nationalistic fervour tinged with the 
trauma of Partition. The zeitgeist of the 1950s was a turning point of 
sorts in the development of contemporary Indian art, say experts. "It 
was the beginning of a new introspection after the Bengal School 
Revival," says Virendra Kumar Jain, 80, owner of Kumar Gallery, set up 
in 1955, arguably one of the first to show leading artists such as MF 
Husain.

From the archives: Virendra Kumar of Kumar Gallery with MF Husain in the early 1950s
 
Apart
 from Kumar, the Dhoomimal Art Gallery patronised artists such as Jamini
 Roy since the 1930s. "After the Partition, I had my first brush with 
artists from the Government College of Art, Lahore. It included people 
like Satish Gujral, BC Sanyal, PN Mago and Dhanraj Bhagat. They held 
their first show in the early 1950s at the Freemason Hall in Janpath, 
next to the Imperial Hotel, which managed to draw in only a few 
visitors," recalls Kumar.
With
 the setting up of the Delhi Shilpi Chakra Group in 1949, the art scene 
in Delhi perked up. "The coffee house on Janpath was an intellectual 
hub. It is here that one ran into a Husain chatting over coffee with 
Kulkarni or BC Sanyal," recalls Krishen Khanna, one of the pioneers of 
the Indian art movement.
Khanna,
 87, recalls the euphoria of freedom and the anguish of Partition in 
August 1947 and has captured some of it on canvas. "I was 21. We 
listened to Pandit Nehru's speech and looked forward to a golden era. 
One didn't envisage the mess we would be in at that time," he says with a
 chuckle. 
Khanna
 has fond memories of a joint show with Husain in Delhi's All India Fine
 Arts & Crafts Society. "Husain Saab and I went back a long way. 
Till the time he bought his apartment in the upmarket Nizamuddin East, 
which became a hub for artists, musicians and dancers in the city, he 
used to come and stay with me at my father's Mathura Road residence."
At
 a time when private patrons in Delhi were few and far between, State 
patronage was also gaining momentum with the setting up of the National 
Gallery of Modern Art and the Lalit Kala Akademi in 1954. 

To
 life and freedom: Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, considered the 
architect of independent India, addresses people at the Red Fort on 
Independence Day. The mood was upbeat and the nation looked towards the 
future with tremendous optimism. 
 
This
 Independence Day Special Issue was put together by Aasheesh Sharma, 
Saudamini Jain, Shreya Sethuraman, Rachel Lopez and Amrah Ashraf. Do 
send us your feedback at 
brunchletters@hindustantimes.comFrom HT Brunch, August 11
Follow us on twitter.com/HTBrunch
Connect with us on facebook.com/hindustantimesbrunch 
SOURCES:
1. OK Tata, 1946 by Abhi Calcuttawala, Outlook Traveller (travel.outlookindia.com), January 1, 2012
2. Wholesale Price Index (WPI)
3. Office of the Economic Adviser, Government of India
4. Reserve Bank Monetary Museum, Fort, Mumbai,
5. Tasveer Ghar, A digital archive of South Asian digital visual culture (Tasveergharindia.net)
6. Census of India (censusindia.gov.in)
7. presidentofindia.gov.in
8. indiagate.org.in
9. parliamentofindia.nic.in
10. Bombay place-names and street-names; an excursion into the by-ways of the history of Bombay City (1917)
11. Nehru Memorial Museum and Library
12. National Film Archive, Pune
13. Hindustan Times Photo Archive