Bookwatch
BY ANITA JOSHUA
St.Stephen's: 125 years young
St. Stephen's College: A History, Ashok Jaitly, Roli Books, Rs. 395.
SOME would think it smacks of the arrogance that is often — maybe, unjustifiably — attached to a Stephanian. How else can you explain the fact that not one of the entrances to St. Stephen's College bears its name. "It is an identity," explains principal Anil Wilson, that needs no introduction. "Spoken like a true Stephanian", detractors would say; only Dr. Wilson "ain't" one.
And, St. Stephen's is not the supremely elite place it is made out to be or so Ashok Jaitly would have us believe in his "fun history" of his alma mater in its 125th year. Yes, it continues to stay out of the rough and tumble of Delhi University Students Union politics, has morning assembly to this day, and God forbid if you call the café "canteen" or the residence "hostel". And, yes, its alumni is a veritable who's who.
But, when in College, the bigwigs of the future were just as full of beans as any other college student. Who would have thought that the very prim and proper former External Affairs Minister Natwar Singh was actually suspended for a fortnight for ragging? While on the subject of Stephanian politicians, here's another nugget — the competitiveness between Mani Shankar Aiyar and Arun Shourie dates back to 1961, when, as classmates, they battled for top honours in Economics.
Kudos to Jaitly for paying as much attention to the likes of Rohtas (who runs the dhaba offering nimbu-paani and samosa) and Mohan, Hari and Bhayyan — the man-machines running the café with its "time-tasted" mince, scramble and toast. For, to them also goes the credit of giving St. Stephen's the identity it can call its exclusive preserve.
Record of sorts?
Riding the Himalayas, Keki N. Daruwalla and Ashok Dilwali, Niyogi Books, Rs. 795.
IF what Keki N. Daruwalla has written in his narrative on charting the Himalayas by car is a fact, then this book is a record in itself. For, according to the brain behind the journey, Phalguni Matilal, nobody has ever before traversed the Himalayas by car in one go.
Straddling six countries over a distance of 25,000 km, the journey across the Himalayas in 2003 was divided into five segments: the Ladakh and Kashmir Himalayas, Garhwal and Kumaon, Nepal and Sikkim, Bhutan, and the Eastern Himalayas. The team included several car rallyists, wildlife buffs and photographers. Add to this the eventual chroniclers — lensman Ashok Dilwali and Daruwalla himself — who together have put together a book that not only captures the majestic mountain ranges but also the essence of life in those parts.
Though the book is essentially a travelogue, Daruwalla provides more than just a wide-eyed visitor's first impression of the journey. Delving into earlier accounts, he provides a brief history of the region besides throwing in some facts from more recent memory. While he provides descriptions of the places visited, there is not much of the "dos and don'ts" stuff that is the staple of travelogues.
Complementing the narrative are Dilwali's photographs. Particular mention must be made of his shot of the sand dunes in Nubra Valley, a monk sitting at the Gangotri, blissfully unmindful of the turbulence around him, and mist on the Bhagirathi at Harsil.
Partition blame-game
The Partition on India, Anita Inder Singh, National Book Trust, Rs. 35.
THE first thing that one notices about Anita Inder Singh's book on the Partition is its brevity. How many academic endeavours can one find on the subject that end in less than 100 pages? After all, history is testimony to the fact that controversies over partition never end as posterity only fuels them. Leave aside the Partition of India — which remains a festering issue. Look at the other three such geographical surgeries conducted by the imperial British: Ireland, Palestine and Cyprus.
As all such efforts on the issue, Singh's account of the divide-and-rule politics played by the British does not offer anything new on Partition. But, by virtue of being a National Book Trust publication, it makes the issue accessible to a larger mass of citizenry; not just in terms of the price of the book but also in the treatment of the subject.
Despite being an academic exercise, the book does not have the pontificating tenor of similar endeavours. Point-blank, it races through the last decade of colonialism leading up to the most blood-soaked chapter of Indian history.
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