“Cooper Union is dealing not only with a financial crisis but also an existential one. What is playing out at this East Village institution speaks both to the national debate about debt, labor, and the affordability of higher education and to the institution’s history, which in its early years was so closely tied to the desires of the nation.”

On April 23, 2013, the Board of Trustees announced that Cooper Union would reduce its scholarship policy to 50%, and would start charging students $20k/year beginning in 2014.  Felix Salmon at Reuters has been doing some excellent reporting on this issue.  In his article, “It’s time to air Cooper Union’s Dirty Laundry,” he gives a very kind shout out to this n+1 piece.

If you want to really understand the importance of Cooper Union and its century-long tradition of free tuition, I can’t recommend Sangamithra Iyer’s excellent article in n+1 highly enough. And it contrasts greatly, of course, with the official statement from Cooper Union’s Board of Trustees, saying that the college is going to stop being free very soon: beginning, in fact with the students entering in September 2014…The fact is, as Iyer clearly lays out, that charging tuition runs in direct violation of Peter Cooper’s vision and his founding principles. Indeed, the original Cooper Union charter held the institution’s trustees personally responsible for any deficit, while ensuring that education was free to all enrolled students.

You must also check out Salmon’s piece:  ”The Tragedy of  Cooper  Union,“

For an institution which was founded to exist in perpetuity, this kind of board turnover is decidedly worrying, especially since it was the board which decided and announced that Cooper Union will start charging tuition. If this board is just passing through, with precious little aggregate tenure or institutional memory, the legitimacy of that decision is surely greatly reduced.

Students, alumni , faculty and staff are continuing to organize to preserve a Free Cooper Union.

]]> http://sangamithra.wordpress.com/2013/04/10/save-cooper-union/feed/ 0 sangamithra Screen Shot 2013-04-10 at 8.36.12 PM http://sangamithra.wordpress.com/2013/04/02/next-big-thing/ http://sangamithra.wordpress.com/2013/04/02/next-big-thing/#comments Wed, 03 Apr 2013 03:18:53 +0000 sangamithra http://sangamithra.wordpress.com/?p=929 ]]> The Next Big Thing Project is traveling post where writers answer questions about their works in progress and tag others to do the same.   Thank you Sunil Yapa for inviting me to participate. I look forward to your book.

So here goes. This is my next big thing:

What is the working title of your book?


Divining Water.

What genre does your book fall under?


Literary nonfiction. I often describe the book as blending memoir, history and reportage. I’m interested in the nexus of the personal and the political, what the fabulous Minal Hajratwala calls “intimate history.”

The work aspires to employ the language of a poet, the skills of a journalist/scholar, and the insights of personal experience. Two other writers I recently discovered whose work  falls in this realm are Susan Griffin and Rebecca Solnit.

In A Chorus of Stones, Griffin argues:

“We are not used to associating our private lives with public events. Yet the histories of families cannot be separated from the histories of nations. To divide them is part of our denial.”

And in the introduction of the essay collection: Storming at the Gates of Paradise, Solnit writes::

“I needed to describe, to analyze, to connect, to critique and to report on both international politics and personal experience. That is, I needed to write as a memoirist or diarist, and as a journalist , and a critic—and these three voices were one voice in everything except the conventions that sort our experience out and censor what doesn’t belong… Since then, I have been fascinated by trying to map the ways that we think and talk, the unsorted experience where in one can start by complaining about politics and end by confessing about passions, the ease with which we can get to any point from any other point. Such conversation is sometimes described as being “all over the place,” which is another way to say that it connects everything back up.”

My work in progress often seems “all over the place,” but the  writing is rooted in these intersections of form and content.

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?


As a writer, this is the question I dread the most. This reluctance to answer has several components. Part of it is the fear that reducing the work into a single sentence reduces the work—that it cheapens and commodifies it. Another part is just the difficulty of the task- to summarize years of work that is seemingly “all over the place.”  Rather than provide clarity and insight, the fear is that I’ll be misunderstood. And the last part of it has to do with the unknown. Many assume that in writing nonfiction, the story is already there, but I’m constantly discovering new things that complicate and drive the story into unchartered terrain. It is one of the joys of writing, but it can be difficult to summarize whenI’m still finding my way.

So with that I’m going to allow myself to ramble here for a bit. Divining Water is a story about three generations reconciling violence and disparity and their search for nonviolence in the modern world. I am researching the life of my paternal grandfather, who was stationed as a civil engineer in Burma from 1919 to 1934, when he had a radical shift, and decided to quit the British, give up all worldly possessions and join the Freedom Movement in India. He moved his family to the rural town of Kallakurichi, where my father, the youngest of thirteen children, was born. There, my grandfather became a water diviner and developed wells in the surrounding villages.I never met my grandfather, but like him, I studied civil engineering, worked on water supply projects and pursued social activism. I left my engineering job to work for a magazine called Satya, which was inspired by the Satyagraha movement that influenced my grandfather.

As an engineer, I studied hydrology and geology. I wanted to understand how the earth responds to human pressures. My stories here are set around rivers: Ganga, Gaumukhi, Yamuna and the Irrawaddy. Understanding the history and fate of these rivers also serves as a lens through which to examine larger social and environmental issues— both in my forbearers’ time and mine. The book is about losses (personal, political, environmental) and if/how we can recover from them. It is about the linkages between sanitation and social justice. It also examines the tension in the choices we make between family responsibilities and social activism.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

The first fragments of this book were written long before I knew I would be writing a book. “Our journey began in North India, but this story really begins in South India, in a place called Kallakurichi, where my father was born…” began a letter I sent to friends after immersing my father’s ashes in the River Ganga.

Losing a parent leaves you with many questions. My father’s death in 2003 had set me on two parallel journeys, one that sought the unearth the past, and another that tried to understand the present. But it would be several years before I would revisit these pages. Nancy Rawlinson, a former writing instructor of mine,  suggested I consider writing a book.  I let that idea sink in and applied to the MFA program in nonfiction at Hunter College in 2008 with a proposal to work on this project. Prior to this, the various aspects of my life-—family, engineering, and activism were compartmentalized. It has been through writing that I’ve found ways to integrate them, and the idea for the book has since evolved.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?


Still working on it. I had a good start with my MFA thesis, “Earth, Water Animal.”  Since then, I’ve been slowly continuing on the journey of writing and research, while juggling a day job and other writing projects. Most of my writing these days occurs during my daily subway commute and vacation days. I recently received a Literature Travel Grant from the Jerome Foundation for this project to do so some  research in London and Burma, where I’ll be traveling soon.  (Thank you Jerome!)

What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?


Hmm…Good question. I’m working on how to do justice to my characters on the page, and I’m not sure yet who would serve them well on the big screen. Suggestions welcome.

Who or what inspires you?


I’m inspired by people who pursue their passions and live their truths. I am inspired by acts of compassion. I’m inspired by  the natural and the urban world, and the many creatures within them.

Who’s next?

I’m grateful and honored to have many wonderful writers in my life. Here’s a start. I can’t wait for your books and your interviews. Tell us about your next big thing Emily Bass, Laura May Hoopes, Amy Jo Kandathil, Parul Kapur Hinzen, Geeta Kothari, Anna Marrian, Cynthia Polutanovich and Krystal  Sital.

The beginning of the collection includes a letter from Gandhi to the Viceroy regarding police brutality against those participating in nonviolent protest. On one incident women who were organizing “to protest against a brutal treatment of a girl 17 years old by a police official,” found themselves too, the victims of such brutality. Gandhi writes:

“The injuries were severe in several cases. Some of those who were assaulted belong to the Satyagraha Ashram at Sabarmati. One of them, an old widow, a Member of the Managing Board of the Ashram, was drenched in blood. To give you some idea of the nature of the police barbarity I give a free translation of her letter to me.”

This translated letter describes not only the abuse these women endured, but also the strength of their conviction and compassion:

“It was on this occasion that I understood somewhat the meaning of Ahimsa. I was quite fearless when the blows were coming down upon me, and I assure you I had no hatred or anger in me. Even now I feel no resentments toward the police, and its is growing upon me that we shall achieve success to the extent we cultivate the spirit of Ahimsa.”

Gandhi implored that the Viceroy look into this matter and set up a Committee “to investigate the allegations of excesses against officials in different parts of India since the inauguration of the Civil Disobedience Campaign…Till I hear from you and know your wish in this matter I am not sending this letter to the press.”

This file did not contain the actual letter back to Gandhi from the Viceroy, but rather draft notes on how to respond. While Gandhi’s letter is a moral plea, the draft response is an offering of advice regarding political strategy.  The language is what Norman Mailer in Armies of the Night called “totalitarianese which is to say ,technologese, which is to say any language which succeeds in stripping itself of any moral content.”

 I would suggest that the following principles be kept constantly in view:

• Avoidance wherever possible for any enquiry into the past on both sides.

• Avoidance of action which suggests any implied admission that Government are in the dock or which involves implied censure or humiliation of our officers and servants.

• Avoidance of action which will allow Congress to claim a victory, i.e. if relief is given in cases of hardships it should be given as an act of sympathy and generosity from Government and not as a concession wrung from them.

• ….

• The above to be subject always to the condition precedent that the civil disobedience movement will be effectively called off and that there will be no attempt to revive it at least during discussion in India.

These notes show the audacity of power and the fear of losing it.

In 1931 Gandhi met with H.W. Emerson, the Home Secretary for four days in Simla. Emerson wrote to His Excellency, Sir Malcolm Hailey with insight gleaned from this meeting:

“Lord Irwin [the Viceroy] gave me a tip which I have found very valuable in dealing with him, namely that he is always more impressed by practical difficulties than by theoretical principles, and he is often ready to see the dangerous results of a particular course of action, where he will not admit that the action itself is wrong. He has a keen sense of humor, and I found it useful, when we got on the to a sticky patch, to have a comparatively frivolous diversion. He is very fair in seeing the other side of the case and is ready quietly to argue any point at issue. He is very sensitive to the personal touch, but does not mind and in, in fact, rather welcomes plain speaking. I apologise for troubling you with these apparent trivialities, but I have great hopes that your meeting with him will result in him using his influence to quieten things down, although the snag may be his unwillingness to admit that Congress should not uphold the cause of the “unfortunate” in matters of rent and land revenue.”

Gandhi’s hand written letter to Emerson after their meeting, however, revealed that he had not thought  favorably about  what had transpired:

“This is to tell you how grieved I felt in Simla over what appeared to me to be your obstructive tactics… I have written this freely in the exercise the privilege of friendship and therfore not to be misunderstood…My right hand needing rest, I have to write with the left hand. I could not dictate a personal letter like this.”

Emerson replied playfully:

“Incidentally, I did not know you were ambidextrous. May I congratulate you on the excellence of your left hand writing. It is neater than I can achieve with the right hand…I confess that I was very annoyed with you when I got your letter—but have now forgiven you…You have claimed the privilege of friendship for telling me off, I am going to claim the same privilege for making to you a suggestion which is probably superfluous. Start with the assumption that British statesmen and the British public want to do the best they can for India. If their views and yours differ on some points, don’t ascribe the difference to distrust or selfishness. Assume they are honest and that they believe in what they say until convinced to the contrary…And, as I told you, when I said good-bye at Viceregal Lodge, don’t get into mischief now I am not there to look after you.”

The next letter from Gandhi in the file was sent  from Yeravada Prison, January 15, 1932 written to the next Viceroy, Lord Willingdon:

 “…Is it wrong for Indians to desire complete independence for their country? Is it wrong to seek to do so through non-violent direct action, when negotiation fails or becomes impossible?… My regards to Lady Willingdon. She must not be angry with me that I am causing worry to her husband. I do not want to. If at all, she must be angry with you in that in your anger or distrust, you banded the door in the face of a poor old man who knocked and was denied entrance.

I am,

Yours sincere Friend

Sd. M.K. Gandhi

On August 18, 1932, the Mahatma pens another letter from Yeravada Central Prison to Honarable J. Ramsay Macdonald, Prime Minister of London:

“I have read the British Government’s decision on the representation of the Minorities and have slept over it…. I have to resist your decision with my life. The only way I can do so is by declaring a perpetual fast unto death from food of any kind, save water, with our without salt and soda. This fast will cease if, during its progress, the British Government, of its own motions or under pressing of public opinion, revise their decision and withraw their scheme of communal electorates for the depressed Classes whose representatives should be elected by the General electorate under a common Franchise, no matter how wide it is.

Joseph Lelyveld in his biography on Gandhi provides additional context:

“This was the outcome—the kind of “special representation” for untouchables—that Gandhi, now sixty-three, had vowed at the conference to “resist with my life” for the hight principled reason that it would tend to institutionalize, and thus perpetuate, untouchability, a status he’d sometimes compared to slavery as he had the indenture system in South Africa.”

Eradication of untouchability was one of the four pillars that Gandhi argued were essential for swaraj (self-rule) [in addition to Hindu Muslim unity, revitalization of self-sustaining rural villages, and ahimsa, nonviolence.] In 1933, Gandhi started the weekly newspaper the Harijan, that articulated these points. Gandhi had started referring to the untouchables as Harijans, children of God, (though this term was found patronizing by some, most notably Dalit leader Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar).

I had a chance to peer through some volumes of the Harijan in the British Library. The first issue was edited by R.V. Sastri “Under the auspices of the The Servants of the Untouchable Society,” while Gandhi was still incarcerated at Yeravada prison.  In each issue there were reports from the field on progress in various issues- Temple Entry, Water and Sanitation. For example under the category water supply, it was noted: “ All public wells at Khandip and Vazirpur villages were thrown open to Harijans. 1well is under construction for Harijans at Dausa (Jaipur). 1 cistern is being constructed at Jhunjhunu.”

These excerpts from  letters and newspapers articles showed the connections between acts of civil disobedience that were part of a political struggle and acts of service that were part of a social struggle.

“The most noteworthy event in the history of the year was the total destruction in 1877 of the Krishna Shoal light-house , on the south coast of Pegu.”

While this report was extracted from the “Proceedings of the Commissioner of British Burma in the Revenue Department”, it contained these wonderful narrative and descriptive elements:

“This light-house, built throughout of iron, and supported on screw piles, stood on the south-eastern point of the shoal from which it takes its name, the depth of water round it at low water being three fathoms, with a rise and fall of 12 feet, and a tide running six knots and hour. It was begun in 1868 and completed in May 1869 at a cost of 16,000 pounds , the light being shown for the first time on 10th June in the latter year.”

Previous inspections  suggested vulnerability due to scouring, and while  subsequent repairs were carried out by the Public Works Department, they  proved insufficient.  Another noteworthy event that year, (though apparently not the most noteworthy) was the murder of Mr. E.R. Woodcock, “the only European ligthkeeper stationed at Table Island lighthouse,” by one of the “menial employees” there.  There were both civil engineering and criminal mysteries to unravel in this tale!

I came across this Report on Lighthouses off the Coast of British Burma in the India Office Records at the British Library. Thought it was before my grandfather’s time working on lighthouses there, I read these pages with deep interest for the texture they contained.  John O’Brien, the archivist of the India Office Records, shared with me that many of the reports and correspondences of the 19th century carried a level of detail that later ones in the twentieth century lacked.

I was curious to know if similar accounts existed for public works projects in Burma in the 1920s and 1930s. O’Brien pointed me to an index of the Proceedings of the Government of Burma, Public Works Department which contained reports of correspondences until 1924. I requested the volumes from 1919-1924. In each of these volumes there was a section called “Establishment,” which included notes about engineer appointments and transfers, as well as a section on “Accounts”.

In the Establishment section, I once again discovered my grandfather. First- when he was appointed to the department- “Narayanan, Mr. M.S. Appointment of –as a Temporary Engineer.” Next when he is transferred to a different post: “Narayanan, Mr. M.S. Assistant Engineer. Order transferring from the Pegu to the Maritime Circle.” Later when he was granted “ an extension of time in which to pass the lower standard examination in Burmese.” And then again, regarding a nominal raise: “Narayanan, Mr. M.S Assistant Engineer Superintending Engineer, Maritime Circle letter No. 4010-14E (N. 10) dated the 6th May 1921recommends that sanction be accorded to grant of the first annual increment of Rs. 20 per mensem to the pay– with effect from the 1st February 1921.”  These  proceedings also provide a glimpse of the disparity instilled in colonial rule like the inequity in pay between Indian engineers and European engineers of the same rank.

The British Library does not have the records contained in the file numbers referenced in these reports. These proceeedings were often copied to London, but the enclosures referenced were not sent. It is possible the records are still in the Rangoon or the Delhi archives, if they survived.

These proceedings in the 1920s did not have the narrative quality of the 1877 lighthouse report, yet there is still a narrative to be assembled from various fragments.  There is truth to the adage that if you want to know what is going on in a place, you should follow the money. While accounting and budget reports may not seem like riveting reading material, they do provide a window into what was happening where and when.  With my earlier research going through the civil yearly lists, I had established a spreadsheet tracking where my grandfather was posted in Burma and when. From family stories, I’ve been told he worked on bridges, lighthouses and roads. A list of and budget for public works in region can be found for each year, so I can cross-check between the station listed in the civil list and the annual public works budget  for that station to discover the division or range of projects he could have worked on while stationed in that place.

During this trip to London, I also had a chance to pop over to the British Museum, which houses the Rosetta Stone.  It was amazing to see this artifact up close. The  top portion contains the traditional Egyptian hieroglyphics, below it is the translation into  Demotic, the everyday Egyptian, and at the bottom is Greek, then the government language.   In some way,  I felt the notes I was compiling from this research at the library was  like developing a Rosetta stone of my own, a  means of deciphering the language of government records.

As a geotechnical engineer by training, I’m familiar with coming home dirty after a day’s work. I didn’t expect a similar experience after a day at the library  unearthing  these records. These  dusty volumes of proceedings caused  my eyes to water and my nose to run.  I had rested these books momentarily on my lap to flip through pages, and my hands and pants were subsequently  stained a rust like orange, reminiscent of time spent around tropical residual soils and iron-rich laterite roads. Despite my allergic response, this pleased me slightly and made me feel like I was no longer in London, but closer to Burma.

Read earlier posts from the British Library:

Dispatches from London: An Introduction to the British Library

Researching the India Office Records at the British Library: Time and Timelines

Many thanks to the Jerome Foundation for a Literature Travel Grant to support this research.

Once opened, we locked up our bags in the locker room and  I proceeded to the Asian and African Studies room with my clear plastic bag, only to discover on Mondays, this reading room doesn’t open until 10. (9:30 am the rest of the week).  Took the extra minutes to peer down from the top floor, and also  do a bit of wandering around.  I discovered a Map room that I hope to further explore.

When the Asian and African Studies reading room finally opened, I had a chance to meet Margaret Makepeace, the Lead Curator of East India Company records, who I had connected with over twitter @UntoldLives.  [Check out  the Untold Lives Blog]  She introduced me to John O’Brien, Curator of Post 1858 India Office Records, who had been of great help to me via email preparing for this trip.  It was nice to finally meet in person and discuss my project.

I then got straight  to work.  During the  early part of this week, I was largely been going through the yearly “Civil Lists,” where I had first located my grandfather’s name.  These volumes are broken into quarters for each year.  There is an index buried toward the end of each quarter, so I can look up “Narayanan” and find the listing of my grandfather, though the correct page number is not always provided.  I’ve found that his name can be listed in several locations 1) Under Burma Engineering Service 2) Under the Geographic Division where he was stationed 3) Under Officers on Leave, if he had taken any leave.

I’m slowly making my way through his entire service record, compiling notes in a massive spreadsheet, tracking changes over time.  I’m learning all the places he was posted, sometimes what project he was working on (i.e. lighthouses) changes in his salary, when he passed his Hindustani exam and received an ( h.) next to his name, when he passed his Burmese exam and received and (h.) ( b.)  next to his name.    I am grateful for each tiny fragment I am learning.

Equally as interesting is what is not contained in these records.  I learned that from July 1929- August 1930, my grandfather took a 13 month leave of absence.  Part of it was paid (A.P.- Average Pay), then H.P. (half pay), then unpaid.   There were other leaves noted during his service, but none of this length.  What did he do? Where did he go?

My father told me that my grandfather met Gandhi in Burma and that is when he decided to quit the British, give up his worldly possessions, and move to India to join the Freedom Movement.  Gandhi visited Burma in March of 1929.   At that time, my grandfather’s record said he was stationed in Rangoon “On Foreign Service under the Governing Body of the University College, Rgn.”  Did he hear Gandhi speak at the University?  Was my grandfather’s leave of absence influenced by this visit?

He returned to his post in 1930. Then in the first quarter of 1934, he is listed on leave until February 17 1934.  The abbreviation “P.R.” is noted in the remarks. (Permitted to Resign) I am wondering if I can locate a copy of this resignation letter.  A document that signifies his shift from engineer to activist; from civil servant to freedom fighter.

I am almost done making may way through these lists and envision converting my spreadsheet into a detailed timeline and map, marking his time and work in Toungoo, Rangoon, Akyab, Nyaunglebi, Palaw, Tavoy, Myitkyina, Tadagale Katha and Shwebo.  I’m also pouring over  scholarly records of this time period about Indians in Burma, about Gandhi’s speeches, about lighthouses, etc. to add more context.

I’m slowly settling into a routine here. The morning hours are spent reviewing the files requested the previous day. Then I’ll request more volumes and break to find vegan eats for lunch. (So far have tried vietnamese at Sen Viet,  Naked Avocado Sandwiches at Pret A Manger, and assorted vegan eats at Planet Organic, and our favorite lunch spot to date the Mary Ward  Center Cafe).  The afternoon is spent pouring through the volumes requested in the morning, requesting records for the next day, and making request for photocopies before the copy guy cashes out at 4:30pm.  I hope one day soon they’ll realize that digital photographs and portable wand scanners would allow for more efficient, convenient, cheaper, and safer copying of these records.

Time moves at a much slower pace here.  Since the records have not been digitized (not even the catalogue), navigating the archives is a tedious, manual process of trial and error. I’ve been making small discoveries along the way.  Working at this pace, makes each one feel like a big discovery.  With each tidbit I learn, a narrative is slowly forming, yet more mysteries are presenting themselves. As I go through each year of record , I make note of all the new questions that arise, establishing the framework for the next set of research queries.  Toward the end of the week, the slowness is starting to lose its charm.  Anxious about my upcoming departure from London in a few days,  I’ve returned to my New York state of mind.  But I’m grateful to know that for now the India Office of the British Library is where I need to be for all the hours it remains available.

Each day before I return to the library, I say hello to the sculpture of Newton situated out front. Hi Newton.  Like many of us here, he is hunched over, examining fragments, working toward understanding.

Read other posts from the British Library:

Dispatches from London: An Introduction to the British Library.

Deciphering Place in Numbers- A Rosetta Stone in Annual Budget Reports 

Many thanks to the Jerome Foundation for a Literature Travel Grant to support this research.

Several years ago when I was pursuing my MFA at Hunter, I attended these research seminars that were meant to show  the many resources available to us as creative writers.  I tried to make the best use of that time, attempting to find records of my paternal grandfather’s work as a civil engineer in Burma, before he quit to join the Freedom Movement in India. I was looking for historical documents that could shed light and add detail to tidbits of family narrative.  Most of my searches came up empty then.  I sent queries to other librarians, historians and scholars about my particular interests in Burmese Public Works projects and life in the 1920s and 1930s.  The responses I received were warm and inquisitive.  While they themselves did not have information that could help me, most thought my best bet would be the India Office at the British Library.   Since then, I’ve gathered more fragments of family history about this time which resulted in some answers, but even more questions,  pointing me once again to the British Library.   So here I am in London with the support of a Literature Travel Grant  (Thank you Jerome Foundation!)

The vastness of the  collections housed here—the legacy of colonialism—is  both impressing and unsettling.   With a  list of questions and gap-filled narratives, I arrived at the library with both hope  in the possibility of what I might find, but also fear of what I may not.   The fear is two-pronged: 1) that some records are truly and forever lost  and 2) that they are in fact here, but I won’t be able to find them.

I have spent a great part of the past year perusing historical records from a much smaller archive researching a different writing project, and even on that small scale, I never felt I had enough time to satisfy my increasing curiousity.  How does one even begin navigating the archives of an empire?  The British Library can be a bit overwhelming and distracting for inquisitive and wandering minds.  I’m trying to stay focused on the quest at hand, and not veer off into the stacks on Tamil literature, the encyclopedia of Hindu Architecture or Indian Cinema.  I thought I’d share some of my experiences from my first day.

Registering as a Reader

To access the Asian and African Studies Reading Room, where the India Office Records are held, you need to register for  a reader pass.   This process is similar to going to the DMV, but much more pleasant.  You need two forms of photo  ID, one with a signature and one with a home address  (US Passport and Driver’s License should do the trick).  You’ll be asked to fill out an online form at a computer station.  (Note that British keyboards are a little different– it took me a moment to locate the @ sign near where a semicolon usually resides).  After submitting your form, you’ll be assigned  a number and once it’s called,  a staff member will ask you a few questions, take your picture and give you a reader pass ID card.  The pass is valid for a year.  (If you are a graduate student working on your doctorate, yours will be valid for 3 years.)

Cloakroom and Locker Room

You are  not allowed to bring much into the reading room.  So you can either check items in the Cloakroom or store them in the Locker Room.  No bags, coats, pens, sharp objects, cameras, or scanners are allowed inside the reading room.  I was really excited about using my new Vu Point Magic Wand  Portable Scanner  here,  so that was a big disappointment. You can bring your phone, but can’t use its camera (another disappointment.)  Prepping to go into the reading room is a bit like  going through airport security.  Anything you are bringing into the reading room (laptop, pencils, books, charging cables,) must be placed in a clear plastic bag.

Getting Started on the Quest

I had previously been in touch over email with the BL reference librarians and they’ve given me some starting points for my research.

“If your grandfather was employed as an engineer in Burma by the British Government he “may” appear in either the Burma V/12 (History’s of service) or V/13 (yearly civil lists) series. These can be researched when you visit us in person.”

So this is where I began.  Once you locate the document record number, you can request the file online. You are only allowed 10 items a day, and it takes 70 minutes to deliver your records. (A friend commented that this was to allow for tea breaks).  The engineer in me started to do some mental math and strategic planning noting all the constraints- 10 records a day, an hour and ten minutes to retrieve them, open 10am-5pm on Monday; 9:30am-5pm Tues-Sat, closed on Sunday and planned Strike on Wed… (Is this why they issue passes for a whole year?)

I was looking at information over the course of 20 years for each of these two data sets, but didn’t want to use 40 record requests to barely scratch the surface on this initial query, so I opted to triangulate the data, and request a few files in the beginning, middle and end of this time period, to see if in fact these volumes yielded any information at all.

While waiting for these volumes, I moved on to the next set of files, suggested to me by another reference librarian.

“India Office responsibility for Public Works, such as bridge and road building, was transferred in 1926 from the Public Works Department to both the Economic Department and the Financial Department. The Economic Department Annual Files (series reference IOR/L/E/8) are currently in the process of being catalogued in detail, so they are mostly not yet on the online catlogue. It is a similar situation with the Financial Department Annual Files (series reference IOR/L/F/6). When you visit the British Library, you could have a look at the contemporary indexes and registers for these two records series for the 1930s, for any files on the construction of the bridge. There is a handlist in the Asian & African Studies Reading Room which gives the volume references for each year.”

The economic development file registers contained listings of reports on various topics: agriculture, aviation, cotton, correspondence/communications, census, copyright, customs and duties, collections and economics, electricity, factories, forests, finance, irrigation, Imperial Institute, insurance, jute, lighthouses, land labour, League of Nations, medical, mines and minerals, merchandise, missions, motor vehicles, opium and drugs, oil , plants, ports and harbors, posts and postal, industrial property, patents and design, prohibition, rice, research, rubber, shipping, salt, sanitary , seamen, sugar, tariff, trade agreements, tea, telegraphy,veterinary and the United Nations.

There wasn’t much on public works, but I was curious about the lighthouse reports. My aunt and uncle who are twins were born in Tavoy, where my grandfather was building a lighthouse. I discovered these two records:

• IOR/L/E/9/414  1926-1936 Collection 70/3 Lighthouses-Indian Lighthouse Act of 1927, with terms of appointment for chief inspectors of lighthouses
•  IOR/L/E/9/415,  1938  Collection 70/4 Lighthouses-General Lights in Burma: administration after 1 Apr 1937, following separation of Burma from India

My curiousity about their content was followed by more disappointment.  ”(Missing)” was written after the titles of these reports. They weren’t found in the online request register.  One librarian said “So much was lost or destroyed during the war.”

Delivery of Records

After this unfruitful search of the economic development files, we decided to break for lunch, and upon our return my earlier requested items were ready.   I started an excel spreadsheet with different tabs for each set of files I was researching (Histories of Service, Yearly Civil Lists, Economic Development files).  I listed each record, year, whether or not I requested it yet, date of request, and was eager to fill remaining columns on what was discovered.

I started first with the 1920 and 1932 History of Service volumes. These records listed names of civil servants and a brief resume of their record of service, and dates of service within each post.  Each volume was 3-4 inches in thickness, organized by field of service. I flipped through the pages eagerly but found no record of “Engineers” among the civil servants.   It was again a familiar feeling of loss. No luck with this volume, I switched to the volumes of yearly lists of public servants. I had requested 1921, 1932, and 1933. I wasn’t sure of the date of when he started, so decided to skip to the middle records to see if I could find him.

In the 1933 set, I came across a section titled “Burma Engineering Service” and poured over these pages intently, scanning them looking for a name.I was nervous and emotional anticipating finding him and not.  What if he’s not here?  But maybe he is…

I was searching for any mention of “Iyer” or “Narayanan”  I knew my grandfather’s name to be  M.S. Narayanan Iyer.  It was only the day before this trip to London, that I asked my mother what M.S. stood for.    What she told me were the two words now staring back at me on the page:  Manakkal Sundaralingam Narayanan.  (Thanks Mom!)

Listed under Class II, Assitant Engineers, I found my grandfather!

The civil yearly lists were also formatted in spreadsheet fashion.  Name, Date of Appointment to Department, Date of Promotion to Present Grade, Station, Remarks.  The 1932-1933 files told me this:

Mannakal Sundaralingam Narayanan B.E. M.E. (h.), (b.) was appointed to the service on October 31, 1919, promoted to his present grade on February 1, 1921, Stationed in Tavoy, (South Subdn, Tavoy Dn.)  [There's a handy list of abbreviations at the front of these records. My grandfather had a Bachelor's and Master's Degree in engineering and passed an examination in Hindustani and Burmese, but at a lower standard than if he had a capital H. and B. next to his name ]

The 1921 file lists his name as M.S. Narayanan (had I started here, perhaps it would be have been easier to recognize, but it was an amazing feeling to discover the words Manakkal Sundaralingam).  In 1921, he was stationed in Rangoon in the Lighthouse Subdivision.  From 1920-1933 he was at the same grade which earned 300 to 800 Rs a month.

Copying Records

The reading room was about to close when I made this discovery. I tried to make a photo copy of these pages and the self-service machines, but this is something I wasn’t allowed to do myself with these records and had to request the library to do for me, with more forms and paperwork and at  price of 0.67 pounds a page (about a dollar/page)  They will be ready on Monday after 3pm.  (Sigh. I really wish scanners were allowed)  Looking at the room of researchers, most people sat with their laptops or with pencil and paper, and opted to manually copy or type text from the manuscripts they were perusing.

In the remaining minutes of the reading room hours, I made some additional online requests for volumes to be available on my visit on Monday.Upon leaving, the woman at the entrance desk searched my clear plastic bag, flipping through a book on Burma I brought in with me, making sure I didn’t sneak any records out between the pages.  Then, we retreated to collect our bags in the locker room, which at closing time was reminiscent of high school. A dismissed class of researchers packing up their bags after the bell.

Next Steps 

I can’t yet fully explain how elated I was to discover the row carrying the  briefest of  details of my grandfather’s service.  It is only the beginning of my quest here, but significant to me for many reasons.

On Monday I will visit the other IOR/V/13 yearly lists to sketch a history of his service, and then tackle the IOR Public Works Department annual files [IOR/L/PWD/6 ] to get as many details on this work.  I also hope to meet with a library curator who contributes to  the Untold Lives Blog,  which highlights BL records, researchers and the hidden stories they are unearthing.

With the finite time I have left, I’m trying to employ a method to navigating these archives, organizing my queries, and compiling the results.  Yet at the same time, I’m sending a warm invite to Serendipity to join me. I have some  extra room in my clear plastic bag.

Read the next posts:

Researching the India Office Records at the British Library: Time and Timelines

Deciphering Place in Numbers- A Rosetta Stone in Annual Budget Reports

My essay was selected to be included in the “Most Memorable” section.

Woodstove House had this to say about the piece: “I loved reading about a vegan working on a construction site“

Thanks for reading!

There was just so much devastation this year,” said Diane Bassolino after using a water bucket to keep the creature hydrated. “We just wanted to see something survive.”

Our hearts are still aching for the people of Newtown, Oakcreek, Aurora and all the ones that came before.

Earlier this year, I saw The Island President, and the inspiring Mohammed Nasheed reminded  us that Male, the capital of the Maldives, is no higher than Manhattan. He warned, “What happens to the Maldives today is going to happen to everyone else tomorrow.”     And it did.   We witnessed destruction in the Rockaways, Coney Island, Staten Island and lower Manhattan.  It was an awakening. A struggle is emerging.

In all the stories about the 23-year-old rape victim as India’s Braveheart, it’s worth remembering this. She had no intention to be a braveheart. She didn’t want to become a flickering candle on some dark street corner. She didn’t want to become a symbol. Of sorrow. Of hope. Of our shame. Of anything really. Those are all identities we have given her. She just wanted to go home. Perhaps tell a friend what she thought of the movie she had just seen.

Poster by Anil Gupta

On Columbus Day, I had a chance to see Amrit Singh’s new film Dosa Hunt: The Greatest Hunt for South Indian Food in NYC ever Committed to Film.  Singh compiles an all-star cast of indie musicians who seek out the best dosai the city has to offer.   For Singh, the film is about more than just dosa— it serves as a “cultural artifact.” In a discussion after the film during its opening weekend, Singh said Dosa Hunt was “a device to get a pretty remarkable group of guys together, a group of guys who couldn’t have been imaginable ten years ago, at least not to me as a 15-year-old kid, loving music.” Soundgarden’s Kim Thayil and No Doubt’s Tony Kanal, “were the only guys who had a face that looked anything like mine in the arts,” Singh said. Just as dosa, historically the lesser-known Indian food in America, is starting to make its mark, the film is a testament to the arrival and success of its multicultural cast in the music scene.

Check out my piece at Open City,  where this Dosa Hunt continues. Singh, and a couple of the other film stars, Ashok Kondabolu and Vijay Iyer discuss their favorite dosa spots and more.  As for me, my favorite dosa is from Thiru Kumar at NY Dosas.  What about you?