By Girija Madhavan Reading about student life now in newspapers and magazines, the mind harks back my own days in Maharaja’s College in the University of Mysore in 1955-58; and how different it was for women then. We joined the institution as students, equal with the young men. But the social rules were very different…
Browsing through the computer some days ago, I found a photo of a lost painting which caused me a pang of regret. Many years ago, wanting its broken frame to be repaired, I took the painting to a framer in Mysore city’s Devaraja Market [now threatened with demolition]. After paying the shopman, I carelessly left…
By Girija Madhavan A far-off memory of gold and green domes glittering atop white cathedrals, is now overshadowed by images of present day Kyiv; shattered apartment buildings, billowing smoke from missile strikes, courage in the face of devastation. Posted to the Indian Embassy, Moscow, during the days of the erstwhile Soviet Union, my husband, A….
By Girija Madhavan The Past is over, you cannot get back to it. Live each day anew,” was written in the Autograph Books of our school days. In these days of uncertainty and menace, it is a comfort to reach back in memory to the lovely old Mysore of my childhood and briefly revisit the…
[Continued from December 13, 2021] By Girija Madhavan In the last year of my stay in “Hong Kong Island”, the city had become home to me. I still retain mental images of its physical beauty; Tiger Hill sloping down to the waves of Deep Water Bay, Chinese Junks and pleasure craft on the placid South…
[Continued from November 15, 2021] By Girija Madhavan Our diplomatic journey next led to Hong Kong in 1974. The island was still under British rule. Sir Murray MacLehose was the Governor. The Indian mission, called the “Commission of India” was headed by a “Commissioner”, A. Madhavan. Glittering Hong Kong offered superb shopping, concert halls, art…
LOOKING BACK… By Girija Madhavan Piquant or embarrassing moments adhere to the memory like fluff on old woollens. I recall some nuggets from life in the Indian Foreign Service. A battered Rangoon diary for 26 January 1960 read: “RAIN at the Republic Day Garden Party today!” Rangoon in Burma [now Yangon in Myanmar] was our…
By Girija Madhavan Many of us elderly folk are now sequestered at home. The television focuses on COVID-19, with its seemingly sentient malice against humanity, or the tragedy of Afghanistan. Books, music and films are a comfort. But nothing can compare with the companionship of friends. “Visiting” was an enjoyable social activity in old Mysore…
By Girija Madhavan My memories of Maharani’s College, Mysore [now Mysuru], come to life whenever I pass the building where I studied seven decades ago. In the heart of the city, the College is still painted in the classic pale yellow and emerald green of old Mysore buildings. It is surrounded by old rain trees…
By Girija Madhavan Browsing through the internet, a photo from a bygone era caught my eye: Pandit Nehru with Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai, also called Chou Enlai [1898-1976]. His chiselled features and thick, black eyebrows, brought back memories of seeing him long ago, in person in Beijing [known as Peking earlier]. My husband, A. Madhavan…
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