A Tryst with Destiny: A Visual Journey

After Tipu Sultan's death in 1799, the state of Mysore (present-day Mysuru) passed into British suzerainty. A child prince of the former Hindu royal family was installed on the throne, but after a revolt in 1831 the British took more direct control. This history of violence and intrigue is erased from this engraving by F. C. Lewis (Sr.) from 1846-48, which portrays cordial relations between the Prince and the British.

A series of Durbars in Delhi between 1877 and 1911 staged spectacles of British power in India. The monarch appeared in only one of them, in 1911. The Durbars were meant to showcase the loyalty of Indian princes towards the British crown, and featured dazzling pageants and exhibitions.

Some princes, like Maharaja Sayajirao Gaekwad III, openly supported the Indian National Congress, much to the chagrin of the British. It is said that he refused to wear his full regal attire for the Delhi Durbar of 1911, and when greeting Emperor George V, he had bowed only perfunctorily before turning his back on the ruler.

After Tipu Sultan's death in 1799, the state of Mysore (present-day Mysuru) passed into British suzerainty. A child prince of the former Hindu royal family was installed on the throne, but after a revolt in 1831 the British took more direct control. This history of violence and intrigue is erased from this engraving by F. C. Lewis (Sr.) from 1846-48, which portrays cordial relations between the Prince and the British.

A series of Durbars in Delhi between 1877 and 1911 staged spectacles of British power in India. The monarch appeared in only one of them, in 1911. The Durbars were meant to showcase the loyalty of Indian princes towards the British crown, and featured dazzling pageants and exhibitions.

Some princes, like Maharaja Sayajirao Gaekwad III, openly supported the Indian National Congress, much to the chagrin of the British. It is said that he refused to wear his full regal attire for the Delhi Durbar of 1911, and when greeting Emperor George V, he had bowed only perfunctorily before turning his back on the ruler.

After Tipu Sultan's death in 1799, the state of Mysore (present-day Mysuru) passed into British suzerainty. A child prince of the former Hindu royal family was installed on the throne, but after a revolt in 1831 the British took more direct control. This history of violence and intrigue is erased from this engraving by F. C. Lewis (Sr.) from 1846-48, which portrays cordial relations between the Prince and the British.

A series of Durbars in Delhi between 1877 and 1911 staged spectacles of British power in India. The monarch appeared in only one of them, in 1911. The Durbars were meant to showcase the loyalty of Indian princes towards the British crown, and featured dazzling pageants and exhibitions.

Some princes, like Maharaja Sayajirao Gaekwad III, openly supported the Indian National Congress, much to the chagrin of the British. It is said that he refused to wear his full regal attire for the Delhi Durbar of 1911, and when greeting Emperor George V, he had bowed only perfunctorily before turning his back on the ruler.

The image of Sati painted by artist and educator Nandalal Bose and reproduced through Japanese kokka wood blocks recall debates around issues like sati (widow immolation) and widow remarriage. Orthodox society saw these as challenges to Hindu tradition and glorified the ancient, Brahminical past.

Social critique through satire was commonplace in nineteenth century newspapers and periodicals. Equipped with a lithograph press, Gaganendranath Tagore produced three albums of cartoons between 1915 and '21, which lampooned the aping of Western culture by elite Indians, and criticised Brahminical beliefs. The Babu-s, or native elite men in this cartoon are shown wearing European clothes and smoking a cigarette as they pay respects to a deity from outside the temple.

The image of Sati painted by artist and educator Nandalal Bose and reproduced through Japanese kokka wood blocks recall debates around issues like sati (widow immolation) and widow remarriage. Orthodox society saw these as challenges to Hindu tradition and glorified the ancient, Brahminical past.

Social critique through satire was commonplace in nineteenth century newspapers and periodicals. Equipped with a lithograph press, Gaganendranath Tagore produced three albums of cartoons between 1915 and '21, which lampooned the aping of Western culture by elite Indians, and criticised Brahminical beliefs. The Babu-s, or native elite men in this cartoon are shown wearing European clothes and smoking a cigarette as they pay respects to a deity from outside the temple.

In a rather controversial lithographic print titled Bharat Bhiksha, we see an ageing woman in humble clothing handing over a male child to a regally clad younger woman. The metaphor is supposed to be that of the enfeebled and fading spirit of India, contrasted with the youthful promise of Britain—both embodied as women, while the subject is male.

Abanindranath Tagore’s visualisation of the Bharat Mata—originally intended as Banga Mata (mother Bengal), marked a significant shift from representations like Bharat Bhiksha. She stands on an eternal plane of time and space, bearing four symbols of humanity’s essential needs: education, food, clothing, and spirituality. Writers like Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay popularised the image of India as an idealised woman, penning Vande Mataram (I praise thee, mother) to pay tribute to the nation.

Similar figures came to be replicated in popular print. One thinks of the iconic poster of the 1957 film Mother India and prints such as these, which celebrated patriotism by positing male heroes alongside women, who stand in for the nation. Apart from a few exceptions, like Rani Laxmibai (1828-1858) and Matangini Hazra (1870-1942), women who actively shaped the course of the freedom struggle rarely found visual representation.

In a rather controversial lithographic print titled Bharat Bhiksha, we see an ageing woman in humble clothing handing over a male child to a regally clad younger woman. The metaphor is supposed to be that of the enfeebled and fading spirit of India, contrasted with the youthful promise of Britain—both embodied as women, while the subject is male.

Abanindranath Tagore’s visualisation of the Bharat Mata—originally intended as Banga Mata (mother Bengal), marked a significant shift from representations like Bharat Bhiksha. She stands on an eternal plane of time and space, bearing four symbols of humanity’s essential needs: education, food, clothing, and spirituality. Writers like Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay popularised the image of India as an idealised woman, penning Vande Mataram (I praise thee, mother) to pay tribute to the nation.

Similar figures came to be replicated in popular print. One thinks of the iconic poster of the 1957 film Mother India and prints such as these, which celebrated patriotism by positing male heroes alongside women, who stand in for the nation. Apart from a few exceptions, like Rani Laxmibai (1828-1858) and Matangini Hazra (1870-1942), women who actively shaped the course of the freedom struggle rarely found visual representation.

In a rather controversial lithographic print titled Bharat Bhiksha, we see an ageing woman in humble clothing handing over a male child to a regally clad younger woman. The metaphor is supposed to be that of the enfeebled and fading spirit of India, contrasted with the youthful promise of Britain—both embodied as women, while the subject is male.

Abanindranath Tagore’s visualisation of the Bharat Mata—originally intended as Banga Mata (mother Bengal), marked a significant shift from representations like Bharat Bhiksha. She stands on an eternal plane of time and space, bearing four symbols of humanity’s essential needs: education, food, clothing, and spirituality. Writers like Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay popularised the image of India as an idealised woman, penning Vande Mataram (I praise thee, mother) to pay tribute to the nation.

Similar figures came to be replicated in popular print. One thinks of the iconic poster of the 1957 film Mother India and prints such as these, which celebrated patriotism by positing male heroes alongside women, who stand in for the nation. Apart from a few exceptions, like Rani Laxmibai (1828-1858) and Matangini Hazra (1870-1942), women who actively shaped the course of the freedom struggle rarely found visual representation.

On 12 March 1930, seventy nine women and men set out from the Sabarmati Ashram in Gujarat, reaching the sea-coast at Dandi 24 days later. This act of Satyagraha gave India the iconic image of Mahatma Gandhi, marching stick in hand. Nandalal Bose, who admired Gandhi, created a series of prints, isolating the figure of the Mahatma and according the image a sense of timelessness.

Gandhi invited Nandalal Bose to design and create posters for the Congress sessions at Lucknow, Faizpur, and Haripura. These images were to reflect the connection the Congress leaders shared with the masses. Nandalal and his students worked with locals from the Gujarati village and came up with a series of paintings done with natural dyes, that captured the rhythms of rural India—some going about daily chores, others, like this figure, expressing themselves with abandon.

Printing presses recognised the need to popularise images of India's national leaders. Figures like Gandhi, Nehru, Patel, and Bose, featured alongside cultural luminaries like Tagore. This practice gave rise to a new pantheon—dominated by men—who would be remembered as the most prominent faces of India's struggle for independence.

On 12 March 1930, seventy nine women and men set out from the Sabarmati Ashram in Gujarat, reaching the sea-coast at Dandi 24 days later. This act of Satyagraha gave India the iconic image of Mahatma Gandhi, marching stick in hand. Nandalal Bose, who admired Gandhi, created a series of prints, isolating the figure of the Mahatma and according the image a sense of timelessness.

Gandhi invited Nandalal Bose to design and create posters for the Congress sessions at Lucknow, Faizpur, and Haripura. These images were to reflect the connection the Congress leaders shared with the masses. Nandalal and his students worked with locals from the Gujarati village and came up with a series of paintings done with natural dyes, that captured the rhythms of rural India—some going about daily chores, others, like this figure, expressing themselves with abandon.

Printing presses recognised the need to popularise images of India's national leaders. Figures like Gandhi, Nehru, Patel, and Bose, featured alongside cultural luminaries like Tagore. This practice gave rise to a new pantheon—dominated by men—who would be remembered as the most prominent faces of India's struggle for independence.

On 12 March 1930, seventy nine women and men set out from the Sabarmati Ashram in Gujarat, reaching the sea-coast at Dandi 24 days later. This act of Satyagraha gave India the iconic image of Mahatma Gandhi, marching stick in hand. Nandalal Bose, who admired Gandhi, created a series of prints, isolating the figure of the Mahatma and according the image a sense of timelessness.

Gandhi invited Nandalal Bose to design and create posters for the Congress sessions at Lucknow, Faizpur, and Haripura. These images were to reflect the connection the Congress leaders shared with the masses. Nandalal and his students worked with locals from the Gujarati village and came up with a series of paintings done with natural dyes, that captured the rhythms of rural India—some going about daily chores, others, like this figure, expressing themselves with abandon.

Printing presses recognised the need to popularise images of India's national leaders. Figures like Gandhi, Nehru, Patel, and Bose, featured alongside cultural luminaries like Tagore. This practice gave rise to a new pantheon—dominated by men—who would be remembered as the most prominent faces of India's struggle for independence.