How The Legendary Ambassador Conquered Indian Hearts…And Roads!!!!!

What is it that makes the good old ‘Ambassador,’ the only car in India that served dignitaries as well as the common man, a quintessential part of the Indian identity?

Today’s young generation will never entirely be able to fathom the wave of nostalgia that follows the mention of the burly car, or the sense of authority and importance exuded by a fleet of white Ambassadors with a ‘laal-batti.’

The year was 1958 when the Ambassador, a gift that Hindustan Motors gave India and its people, hit the roads for the very first time. It was a true representative of the Make in India initiative, almost half a century before the terminology even came into existence.

It was a car that could endure quite literally anything and did not require one to possess

esoteric knowledge for its maintenance.

In fact, the running joke of the time was that even a kid could repair an Ambassador!

Perhaps that was what the makers had in their mind—a car that was supremely efficient, able to withstand even the worst of potholes, and seat extended families under one roof.

Interestingly, the original Ambassador was modelled upon the Morris Oxford series III model, which Morris Motors Limited manufactured from 1956 to 1959 at Cowley, UK. With a 1,489 cc engine, this was the first car in India to have a diesel engine.

In total, Indians have lived through seven generations of the car, with the first one being Mark-1 and the final one named Encore, which complied with BS-IV engine standards.

The Ambassador’s love affair with the state and bureaucracy was even more deep-seated. The sturdy four-wheeler acquired an altogether new identity when a beacon was fixed atop its roof.

Be it prime ministers, politicians or even civil servants; the Ambassador was the natural option for an official vehicle for many decades. One of its print advertisements used to say, “We are still the driving force of the real leaders.”

It changed only when the late Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee ditched the ‘white elephant’ for a swanky BMW in 2003. It was a move that shocked many, and paved the way for a narrative shift in India’s power optics and with that, end of an era.

Talking of politics, a rather amusing anecdote surrounding the Ambassador is from the days when Pandit Nehru was the PM. While he would usually opt for Indian-made cars for day-to-day travel, he would travel in a Cadillac when it came to receiving foreign heads of state and dignitaries from the airport.

A confused Lal Bahadur Shastri, who was the then External affairs minister, asked Nehru about the switching between cars. Nehru responded that he did this “to let them know that the Indian Prime Minister could also be driven in a Cadillac.

However, when Shastri took over India’s premiership in 1964, he stuck with the Ambassador—even when foreign dignitaries came visiting.

Upon being asked why he didn’t follow Nehru’s practice, he said, “Pandit Nehru was a great man, and it is difficult to emulate him. It makes no difference to me what the foreign dignitaries think as long as they know that the Indian Prime Minister is travelling in a car which is made in India.”

By the mid-1990s, automobile industries from across the world began flocking to India and the market supremacy that Ambassador once enjoyed slowly began to give way to smaller and easily manageable cars like Maruti.

Like the curtains fall after every great play, time was slowly inching up on Ambassador. With the exception of official cars and taxis, there very few of them on the road.

It was in 2014 that Hindustan Motors finally ended the production of Ambassador, following a failed attempt at rebranding the car in a more compact and swanky version titled ‘Amby.’

The customary tribute post by Amul at that time was extremely poignant as it seemed to resonate with almost everyone who had driven the vehicle or even sat on the passenger seat, at some time or the other.

Honestly enough, while cars may come and go in India, nothing will come close to the adulation that the ‘King of Indian Roads,’ as Ambassador was known, has enjoyed.

A car that became the enduring symbol of post-Independence India, the Ambassador will forever remain an intrinsic part of the country and an unforgettable memory for its people.

(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)

Source….. LekshmiPriya .S in http://www.the betterindia.com

Natarajan

 

 

வாரம் ஒரு கவிதை ….” என் பார்வையில் …”

 

என் பார்வையில்
=================
குறையில்லை என் பார்வையில் …”பவர் “
குறையவும் இல்லை , ஏறவும் இல்லை !
கண்ணாடி மாற்ற வேண்டாம் எனக்கு !
அதே “பவர் ”  அதே கண்ணாடி ! கண்ணாடி
மாற்றும்  செலவு மிச்சம் எனக்கு டாக்டர் ,
சிரித்தேன் நான் !
என்  மனைவிக்கு ” பவர் ” இருமடங்கு
அதிகம்  இப்போது …! கண்ணாடி
“பவர் ” நான் சொல்வது !
குறை ஒன்றும் இல்லை என் பார்வையில்
என்று பாடத்தான் எனக்கு ஆசை !
நிறைவான வாழ்வில் “பவர் ” யாருக்கு
அதிகம் என்பதை சொல்லும்  “பவர் “
கண்ணாடிக்கு இல்லையே !
குறை, நிறை இரண்டும் இருக்கும் வாழ்வில்
குறையும் கடந்து போகும் , நிறையும்
கடந்து போகும் !
குறை  நிறை இரண்டும் ஒன்றேதான்
என் பார்வையில் !
K.Natarajan
21/01/2019

Message for the Day….” There is nothing you cannot achieve with unity as your strength. With purity and unity, you can unravel your Divinity and develop genuine devotion to God. “

Learn to live in harmony and unity. The village (society) is to the villagers (members of the society) what the body is to the individual. Every organ in the body functions in cooperation with every other part. If the foot steps on a thorn, the eye feels the pain and sheds tears. If the eye notices a thorn or stone on the road, it warns the foot to avoid it. Villagers should develop the same sense of unity and share their joys and troubles as one organic body. There is nothing you cannot achieve with unity as your strength. With purity and unity, you can unravel your Divinity and develop genuine devotion to God. You should fill your hearts with love and make your lives holy and purposeful. When everyone works in this spirit of unity and charity, the village would become a model for all the rest.

Source …..http://media.radiosai.org/

 

Message for the Day…. ” in the life of man, good or bad, joy or sorrow, birth or death, come and go, but they do not affect the Atma. In the cinema of life, the screen is the Atma – it is Shiva, it is Sankara, it is Divinity. When one understands this principle, one will be able to understand, enjoy and find fulfilment in life! “

In our daily experiences, there are a number of instances which reveal the existence of Divinity in every person. Consider a cinema; on the screen we see rivers in flood engulfing all the surrounding land. Even though the scene is filled with flood waters the screen does not get wet by even a drop of water. At another time, on the same screen we see volcanoes erupting with tongues of flame, but the screen is not burnt. The screen which provides the basis for all these pictures is not affected by any of them. Likewise in the life of man, good or bad, joy or sorrow, birth or death, come and go, but they do not affect the Atma. In the cinema of life, the screen is the Atma – it is Shiva, it is Sankara, it is Divinity. When one understands this principle, one will be able to understand, enjoy and find fulfilment in life!

Source………http://media.radiosai.org

ENGLAND’S PROPOSED SECRET WEAPON- A MASSIVE SHIP MADE OF ICE….!!!

Today I found out that the British once planned to construct a massive aircraft carrier during World War II… made of ice. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as crazy as it sounds at first glance.

Britain was taking a beating from the German ships and submarines and were looking for something to build a ship out of that couldn’t be destroyed by torpedoes, or at least could take a major pounding without incurring a fatal amount of damage. With steel and aluminum in short supply, Allied scientists and engineers were encouraged to come up with alternative materials and weapons.

A scientist named Geoffrey Pyke was the king of alternative ideas (as you’ll see in the Bonus Facts below). One of his ideas was to build a 2,000 foot long, 300 foot wide and two million ton carrier. Pyke named his project Habbakuk, a biblical reference that seemed to mirror the project’s goal: “…be utterly amazed, for I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.” (Habakkuk 1:5, NIV) Unlike in the Bible though, the ship’s name was spelled with two b’s and one k, which is thought to be simply a spelling error that was repeated so many times that it became official.

Besides the ship’s size, what was so different about Pyke’s vessel was that it would be built of ice. There is no real limit on the availability of ice; it’s easy to make, fairly durable (except in warm temperatures), buoyant, and very easy to repair when damaged.  Further, repairs can be made extremely quickly with the right equipment, even during a battle.

The ship was also to include 40 dual-barreled gun turrets, as well as other anti-aircraft guns, and an airstrip that could accommodate up to 150 fighter planes or twin-engined bombers.

Pyke was able to sell Winston Churchill on his plan in 1942, including Churchill stating it should be given the highest priority.

In testing, though, it was discovered that ice might not be as strong as the ice-bergs that Pyke modeled his idea on. It turned out that ice frozen into blocks for the hull could be broken very easily with something as small as a hammer. The project was temporarily abandoned as a result.

However, later that year, a New York polytechnic firm added cellulose- sawdust, wood chips and paper shreds- to water and froze it for a much more promising base structure for such a ship. Not only was it stronger than straight frozen water- with as little as 4% of wood pulp added it made it as strong as concrete, pound for pound- it was also much slower to melt and more buoyant. Pykrete, named after Geoffrey Pyke, could also be cut like wood and easily milled into shapes like metal.

There was one problem though- melting and refreezing would cause warping in the structure. Tests showed that a pykrete ship would eventually sag unless consistently cooled to around 3° Fahrenheit. To maintain this, the ship’s surface would have to be covered in insulation and it would need a refrigeration plant and duct system.

To test the feasibility of getting around this problem, a small scale version of the Habakkuk was constructed in Alberta, Canada’s Lake Patricia to experiment with insulation and refrigeration possibilities and to see how it would stand up to artillery shelling. The test ship was 30 feet wide by 60 feet long, weighed 1,000 tons and was kept refrigerated with a one-horsepower engine, which was sufficient to keep it from melting even through the hot summer months.

In ballistic testing, it was determined that a direct torpedo hit would only cause about a 10 foot crater in the hull, which was insignificant given the size of the proposed ship.  Thus, it would be nearly impervious to torpedo attacks for all practical purposes, as it would take a huge number of torpedoes and other bombs to sink the ship. So even if the ship was broken up, the Axis powers would have had to invest a massive amount of their resources in a given area to do it (particularly considering the arsenal of aircraft the ship carried), which would have weakened them significantly on other fronts during the attack.  If they were unsuccessful, the ship could be easily and quickly repaired right on the spot.

So overall, the test ship made the full size version seem like it might actually work out.

At this point, it was estimated that construction on the real Habakkuk would cost $2.5 million (about $32 million today), which is a bargain for a ship like this.

There were still some hurdles to overcome, though.  The rudder on such a ship would have to be massive.  How to effectively mount this in the structure in a way that would be resistant to attack was a problem, as was controlling such a rudder. Also, the amount of wood pulp needed would have impacted paper production;  while this ship used significantly less steel than most, the steel tubing it did need for reinforcing the structure would have depleted reserves for conventional, proven warships; a huge amount of cork would also be required to insulate the ship; and, finally, the ship’s top speed of just six to seven knots (6.9 to 8.1 mph) was deemed too slow, even with it being fairly torpedo-proof in terms of the main structure itself.

In the end, these problems, combined with the fact that during the planning phase the range of aircraft had increased significantly to the point where the need for a floating island became less necessary, ultimately sunk the plan.

While the plan to build Habakkuk was short-lived, its prototype was surprisingly resilient. It took three hot summers to completely melt the smaller version of the boat.

Bonus Facts:

  • Pyke wasn’t the first to suggest a ship made of ice. A German scientist, Dr. Gerke of Waldenberg, proposed the idea and experimented with it in Lake Zurich in 1930. And in 1940 an idea for an ice island was circulated around England’s Royal Navy but treated as a joke by officers.
  • Beside an Ice ship, Pyke once suggested using thousands of balloons with microphones and transmitters attached as a way of triangulating enemy positions. He was not aware at the time of the advancements and development in radar technology.
  • screw-vehicle

    Yet another oddball invention Pyke came up with to help in the war was a screw-propelled snow vehicle. The vehicle would be propelled by having two cylinders with flanges in a screw thread-like fashion spinning in opposite directions and varying their speed to facilitate turns. The M29 Weasel put an end to the potential of Pyke’s snow vehicle seeing the light of day.

  • Yet another idea of Pyke’s was to use pykrete to quickly construct buildings and protective barriers in a mobile war.  In the end, this was deemed impractical given the amount of equipment, water, and pulp that would need to be lugged around.
  • Another idea of Pyke’s, this one to solve the problem of transporting equipment from ships to shore in the many places where a harbor wasn’t available, was to create massive pipe systems from the ships that would be extended to shore and beyond as the soldiers advanced… literal supply lines.  Equipment could be packed in air tight containers that would be whisked through the pipes to the waiting soldiers.  Ultimately a more practical idea was developed using floating trucks and floating concrete structures.
  • A similar idea was to extend the piping system to quickly transport not only equipment, but soldiers too, particularly over difficult to cross terrain.  Soldiers would be given oxygen masks and propelled through the pipes via water flowing through.  In order to get around the inevitable problem of soldiers panicking while they’re whisked through these pipes they can’t get out of until they reach the end, he recommended drugging them first if they felt they’d have a problem with it.  As he said, “The whole experience (of riding in a pipe) however should be far less unpleasant, and take very much less time to become used to, than parachute jumping, or being bombed.”
  • Another of Pyke’s genius ideas, this time after the war, was to get around the energy crisis by having trains not be propelled by conventional fuels, but by human power.  His idea was to equip each train car with dozens of bicycle-like contraptions.  Passengers would then be expected to pedal. This would cause people to eat more (needing more calories), which was a problem given post-war food shortages.  Pyke felt this was fine because while certain foods were in short supply, sugar was plentiful and a pound of sugar, converted to energy via the human digestive system, would produce more energy than from burning a pound of coal or oil, which there was a shortage of. In essence, Pyke was a real-life Flint Lockwood. 🙂
  • Despite only a few of his ideas having some merit to them, with most being amazingly impractical, Pyke was kept around for a time simply because the Chief of Combined Operations, Louis Mountbatten, felt that Pyke’s steady stream of outlandish ideas was good for the other members of his staff to hear, to try to get them to think a bit more out of the box.
  • The eccentric Pyke ultimately committed suicide in 1948 by ingesting an entire bottle of sleeping pills and leaving a note to say it was intentional.
  • One idea of Pyke’s that did pan out was his idea on how to escape from a German prison camp… the one he found himself in at the time.  Most of his fellow prisoners thought he was crazy even then, as even if he was able to get out of the camp, it was felt he would either starve, be caught, or killed, before getting out of Germany itself.  He proved them all wrong becoming the first to successfully escape from the camp he was in.  In his fashion, he meticulously studied all accounts of escape attempts to date by others and why and where they failed.   He then devised a plan, at which point he and Edward Falk, a fellow inmate, began a rigorous exercise routine to prepare for their journey.
  • His plan went as so, with the beginning being every bit as seemingly impractical as many of his other ideas, but nonetheless working: first, use the fact that there was an athletic equipment shed that, while regularly checked by soldiers, was checked at a time of day when, if the sun was out and it was the right time of year, the sun’s rays would glare off a window and cause the soldiers looking into the darkened shed to not be able to see properly.  Thus, even though he and Falk could see the guard and weren’t well hidden, the guard could not see them in the small shack.  After hiding out, they then managed to slip out of the camp at night with the supply of food they’d been rationing.  Following a truly harrowing journey, they made it to what they thought was the border and were caught… turns out, though, they were actually in the Netherlands when caught and were not caught by a German soldier, as they initially thought, but a Dutch one.  They had made it.
  • The work on the smaller model Habakkuk in Canada was done by conscientious objectors who did alternative service in lieu of military service. They were never told what they were building. It took eight men 14 days to build the miniature ship.

 

Source….. http://www.today i foundout.com

Natarajan

Message for the Day ….”  Dhyana is the valley of peace that lies on the other side of a huge mountain range of peaks called the six foes – lust, anger, greed, attachment, pride and envy. You must climb over the range and reach the valley beyond. “

The peace or distraction, calm or anxiety that you experience today is the product of your own thoughts and deeds, and your attitude or behaviour towards yourself and others. Many take up the process of regular meditation on the name and form of God, and are able to quieten the agitations of the heart and open the way to inner realisation. Dhyana should not be wavering from one ideal to another; nor should it be reduced to a mere mechanical textbook formula, or a rigid time-table of breathing or meaningless staring at the tip of the nose! It is a rigorous discipline of the senses, the nervous current, and the wings of imagination. That is why it is aptly said, Dhyana is the valley of peace that lies on the other side of a huge mountain range of peaks called the six foes – lust, anger, greed, attachment, pride and envy. You must climb over the range and reach the valley beyond.

Source…..http://media.radiosai.org

#IconsOfIndia: This Engineer Designed Our First National Mixie for His Wife!!!

 


The value of a brand is in the imagery it creates in your mind–the stronger the recall, the stronger the brand.

In this day and age of branding noise, I was surprised by the kind of reaction that one particular brand evoked in my 92-year-old grandmother. That, for me, proved the strength of the iconic mixie brand–Sumeet.

With great enthusiasm, she told me about how she had spent about Rs 1,000 in buying the mixie, how it came with steels jars and not plastic ones, as is the case today.

Even today, the Sumeet mixie sits in her kitchen, used by her every day. Her only complaint is that it is a tad noisier than the newer ones in the market.

However, in terms of efficiency, Sumeet wins hands-down.

Not just that, as part of the trousseau that she gave my aunt and mother–this mixie sat right on top.

56 years ago, this iconic brand was born, not out of extensive market research or any other kind of strategic business evaluation but a bare necessity.

Mr Mathur and his son, Mr Ajay Mathur.
Photo Source

No wonder they say that necessity is the mother of inventions.

In most Indian kitchens, the mixie plays a prominent role–whatever the cuisine, we need a good mixer-grinder to get all our masalas pounded well.

As someone who enjoys cooking, I remember my mother cleaning and taking care of the mixie with utmost care. It was one of her prized possessions, after all, and she hated anyone else meddling with it.

This certainly was one brand whose appeal cut across generations of Indian women.

Sumeet – the genesis

Contrary to popular belief that Sumeet was a brand born in Southern India, Sumeet was actually developed and designed in Mumbai.

Mrs Madhuri Mathur used the Braun blender from Germany for most of her cooking. While it was efficient, she noticed that it could not break down the spices used in Indian cooking.

On one such day, the motor burnt out, as it could not take the heavy-duty grinding that Indian cooking needs.

By the early 80s, 50,000 Sumeet mixies were being sold every month!

For the longest time, it was the only available brand in India. One that became the dream possession of every Indian housewife.

Sumeet – a trusted brand since 1963.

Mrs Mathur, unable to find any Braun service centres in India, challenged her husband to repair the machine at the earliest.

Although an engineer, Mr Satya Prakash Mathur was unable to fix the mixie. He, however, took the challenge sportingly and designed a new mixie with a motor powerful enough to withstand the rigours of Indian grinding.

The development of an indie-mixie

In 1963, Mr Mathur floated a company called ‘Power Control and Appliances Company’. Four employees from Siemens India joined him.

Within two years, they had a workable electric motor, and by 1970, they had designed a single jar for dry mixing as well as wet grinding.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is also interesting is how Mrs and Mr Mathur worked together to build the brand. They put up collateral for an initial loan amount, and with no designers involved, the conceptualisation and the execution were all taken care of by Mr Mathur.

While Mr Mathur provided the engineering inputs, his better half provided the user’s perspective – and thus was born Sumeet, a word which in Sanskrit, means ‘good friend’.

In one of the many testimonials available online, a loyal user says, “Sumeet was my first mixer in 1974, and it is still there. Over the years, while I have used various different makes and models of brands, the comfort and ease of operation my Sumeet mixie gave me was missing. I am strongly of the opinion that Sumeet is the one and only mixer grinder for Indian kitchens, particularly for south Indian dishes.”

For households across the length and breadth of the country, Sumeet has truly been a good friend.

If you have any memories of using this mixie or the brand, do let us know in the comments.

(Edited by Shruti Singhal)

Source……Vidya Rajan in http://www.the betterindia.com

Natarajan

 

 

 

Charvolant: The Kite-Drawn Carriages….

On 8 January 1822, an extraordinary journey was made from Bristol to Marlborough. An English schoolteacher named George Pocock took his wife and his kids on a 182 km-trip in a carriage drawn not by horses but by a couple of enormous kites. Pocock designed the carriage himself, which he called “Charvolant”.

George Pocock was fascinated with kites from a young age, and as he played and experimented with them, he learned that kites had tremendous lifting power. Young Pocock would tie small stones at the end of the string attached to the kite and watch it soar into the skies. As Pocock grew older, his experiments became bolder and more dangerous, usually involving his own children. In one stunt he put his young daughter in a wicker chair, hoisted her up in to the air with a 30-foot-tall kite and then flew her across the Avon Gorge. Fortunately she survived and went on to become the mother of the cricket legend W. G. Grace. Later the same year—year 1824—he flew his son to the top of a 200-foot-tall cliff outside Bristol.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two years later, he patented the design of his “Charvolant” buggy. The Charvolant consisted of two kites on a single line that was 1,500 to 1,800 feet long (nearly half a kilometer) and was capable of pulling a carriage with several passengers at a fairly fast speed. Steering was achieved by four control lines attached to the kite, and a T-shaped bar that controlled the direction of the front wheels. Braking was provided by an iron bar that could be pushed down into the road.

Shortly after its invention and after many risky trials, Pocock published a book titled The Aeropleustic Art or Navigation in the Air by the use of Kites, or Buoyant Sails, where he sang the virtues of travelling in a Charvolant.

“This mode of travelling is, of all others, the most pleasant,” he wrote. “Privileged with harnessing the invincible winds, our celestial tandem playfully transpierces the clouds, and our mystic-moving car swiftly glides along the surface of the scarce-indented earth; while beholders, snatching a glance at the rapid but noiseless expedition, are led to regard the novel scene rather as a vision than a reality.”

Pocock mentions that during his trials he timed the Charvolant travelling at 20 miles an hour (32 km/h) over considerable distances, and a mile could frequently be covered even over heavy roads in 2 minutes and three-quarters. Because the weight of the vehicle is partially supported by the kite, the buggy glides over any potholes making the journey considerably less bumpy. “The occasional dips and irregularities in the surface of the road are scarcely perceptible,” he wrote.

Pocock tried hard to interest the public in his invention, mentioning that the Charvolant could pass free at turnpike toll gates because tolls were levied according to the number of horses the carriages were pulled by, and the Charvolant had none. Pocock also advocated numerous other uses for kites, such as as auxiliary sail power for ships, as means of dropping anchor and effecting rescues from shipwrecks.

Despite his attempts, the Charvolant failed to ignite the interest of the public, possibly because controlling the buggy was not easy. Nevertheless, Pocock and his family continued to use the Charvolant for day trips until his death in 1843.

Source…..Kaushik in http://www.amusingplanet.com

Natarajan

 

Remember the Signature AIR Tune? Meet the Jewish Refugee Who Composed it!!!

For an entire generation, the radio and the All India Radio hold a very cherished place. I remember my grandfather tuning it each evening listening to the news. My mother tells me stories of how she and her sister would huddle around the device to hear the latest songs.

What strings all these memories together is the signature tune that would play at the break of dawn.

Based on raag Shivaranjini, the lilting violin notes playing to the background of a tambura evokes a sense of nostalgia – almost eight decades since its composition.

While millions are familiar with the tune, few are aware that it was created by the most improbable source – a Czech Jewish refugee fleeing the Nazis in Europe!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shown here performing at the Willingdon Gymkhana with Kaufmann at the piano, Edigio Verga on cello and Mehli Mehta playing the violin.      Photo Source

A Czech national, Walter was born in 1907 in Karlsbad, today known as Karlovy Vary. His father, Julius Kaufmann, was Jewish while his mother had converted to Judaism. Julius died near the Czech border after they fled Karlsbad under the Nazis.

In 1934, after Hitler’s invasion of Prague, 27-year-old Walter Kaufmann arrived in Mumbai. A refugee, Walter perhaps did not intend to stay on in India for as long as he did. He was in India’s city of dreams for fourteen years.

One may wonder why he landed in Mumbai of all places in the world. In one of the letters that were later published, he even says, “I could easily get a visa.”

Early days

However, having come to India, his initial years were not easy. As a trained musician, he was hoping to find takers for his talent, but his initial tryst with Indian music was not pleasant. He found it beyond comprehension.

Undeterred, he founded the Bombay Chamber Music Society within months of his arrival, which performed every Thursday at the Willingdon Gymkhana. Walter’s correspondence with his family back home confirmed that he stayed at Rewa House, a two-storied bungalow off Warden Road (now Bhulabhai Desai Road) towards Mahalaxmi temple.

In one year, the society had performed more than 130 times, while the audience at these performances kept increasing.

According to Scroll, in the same letter, Walter is disarmingly honest in describing his initial reactions to Indian music. The first records he heard were “alien and incomprehensible.”

But he wasn’t willing to give up.

“As I knew that this music was created by people with heart and intellect, one could assume that many, in fact, millions would be appreciating or in fact loving this music…I concluded that the fault was all mine and the right way would be to undertake a study tour to the place of its origin,” he wrote

From 1936 to 1946, Walter worked at AIR as the director of music, and it was here that he composed the iconic signature tune with noted Indian orchestra conductor Mehli Mehta, who played the violin for it.

It is amazing that the tune that generations of Indians grew listening to was created by a European – proving that music knows no boundaries, and is truly a universal language.

Connection to the Hindi film industry

Walter moved to Mumbai at a time when there was a shift from silent movies. His adept mastery over western music helped him in the Indian film industry as well. He composed the background score for several films by Mohan Bhavnani (a friend he had met in Berlin).

Albert Einstein, in a letter dated 23 January 1938, wrote a recommendation letter for Walter Kaufmann.

In that letter in German, he wrote, “Mr Walter Kaufmann of Prague, currently in Bombay (India), has been known to me for years as an inventive and gifted musician. He has already written many compositions, he is an authority on Eastern music, and he has had extensive experience as a teacher as well. With his youthful energy and likeable nature, he would be eminently suited for the position of director of choirs and orchestras in schools or universities.”

After India

In 1946, Walter left India and went on to spend a year in England, where he was a guest conductor at the BBC. From 1948 to 1957, he was the Musical Director and Conductor of the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.

It was in 1957 that Walter moved to the United States permanently with his second wife, Freda.

He joined the School of Music at Indiana University in Bloomington as Professor of Music in the Department of Musicology, where he taught till 1977. He died there in 1984.

While it has been over three decades to Walter Kaufmann’s demise, he has been immortalised through his signature tune that millions of Indians continue to wake up to.

(Edited by Shruti Singhal)

Source…..Vidya Raja in http://www.the betterindia.com

Natarajan

IconsOfIndia: Murphy Radio & the Baby That Got All of India Glued to News!!!

 



This Republic Day, we take a look at the iconic objects that collectively defined the Indian experience over the past 68 years. From things that brought the world to our living rooms to tasty treats, take a nostalgic journey down memory lane!


Members of the Joshi family would gather around their prized possession at 7 every evening. The main door of the house was open–it wouldn’t be long before the neighbouring kids, their parents and maybe even grandparents joined the regular party.

A beautifully knit blue-green cover protects the wooden radio box which is only taken off when the radio is switched on and tuned in. One member of the family reaches the top shelf to pull out the long antenna of the radio and turns the two knobs till the radio frequency sets perfectly.

In the 1960s and 70s, when the television was still a rich man’s luxury, it was Murphy Radio that brought people together.

Although the radio set was a device even the upper-middle-class boasted on owning, it was still more accessible and affordable than the TV.

Source: India Design Museum/ Facebook.

The Murphy Radio was founded by Frank Murphy and E J Power in 1929. The radio company had manufactured sets for the British Armed Forces to use during the Second World War, but they aimed to make radio sets “a homely gadget”, one that did not need military expertise to operate.

In a 1931 advertisement, Murphy had said, “Your wireless set should not be a “gadget” which only “Father” can work. It should be something which can be used and enjoyed by everybody in the family. That is why, I made it my business to see that all Murphy sets are extremely simple to use, cheap to maintain and always reliable. The constant high standard of reproduction is an outstanding feature of all Murphy sets.”

Although the founder left his company in 1937 to establish another called the Frank Murphy Radio or FM Radio, the name ‘Murphy’ stayed.

This brand debuted in Indian households in 1948–just a year after we got independence and even before we became a republic!

Immediately, it became a popular source of news and entertainment.

Source: Murphy Radio.

Jyoti Sohini, a 70-year-old homemaker from Pune, fondly recollects the ‘Murphy days’. “It was a very popular brand in those days. The Murphy Baby calendar especially was very famous. The radio set was a common possession where I lived, but even then, there would be a huge crowd at our place, eager to listen to the cricket commentary,” she tells The Better India.

Adding to the programmes that they listened to in that era, Jyoti says Radio Ceylon, Binaca Geetmala, Vividh Bharati and Pune Kendra (a local news bulletin) were popular.

Much like this family in Pune, India fell in love with the brand and its adorable mascot–the Murphy baby or Murphy Munna. Print ads featured the chubby-cheeked Rinpoche, looking inquisitively, with a finger placed near his lip, instantly garnering the adoration of Indian families.

The three-year-old Kagyur Tulku Rinpoche fascinated many mothers or expectant mothers of that era. For millennials like me, the perfect reference point is Anurag Basu’s 2012 film, Barfi, where Ranbir Kapoor’s reel life mother names him after the Murphy because “Murphy Munna jaisa lalla, Amma ka tha sapna” (Mother wanted a baby just like the Murphy’s).

Speaking to the Hindustan Times about this shot to fame, Rinpoche said, “I was three years old and used to reside in Manali. Everyone in Manali knew about the ad.

Source: Veena Bhat/ Pinterest.

The makers wanted me in the ad, as the original Murphy baby who was a girl, had died. They were looking for someone identical.”

Rinpoche went on to become a monk for about 20 years before marrying Mandakini, an actress. But that is a story for another time.

Much like Rinpoche, Mohammed Rafi composed a tagline jingle for the brand to attract more customers.

Murphy ghar ghar ki rounak, tarah tarah ke Murphy radio, la deten hain ghar mein jaan (Murphy is the pride of homes, different kinds of Murphys bring life to the home),” played as an advertisement while superstars like Sharmila Tagore, featured in print ads.

68-year-old Kamlesh Chawla speaks to The Print about his childhood when he threw a tantrum to get a Murphy Radio after the Sharmila Tagore ad.

Source: Veena Bhat/ Pinterest.

Catchy phrases that spoke of the Murphy Radio as something that “delights the home” and “sets the standard” added to the aspirational sentiment.

Kamlesh says, “I used to be a calm child. But I can only recall one instance where I had cried for many days insisting [that] my father buy a radio. He bought the radio set on Diwali. I still have a memory of placing the radio right next to the black-and-white Keltron TV set in our sitting room.”

Writing for the Caleidoscope, Levine Lawrence says, “Those were the glory days of BBC, Voice of America, Radio Moscow and our own All India Radio. Vividh Bharati, the colourful movie songs and trivia programme was transmitted by the Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation due to a ban on film songs on Akashvani!”

Eventually, the radio gave way for black-and-white TV, which in turn, was replaced by the colour TV and now, the Internet.

Even as we surf the web to find such fascinating stories about the times and technologies of the past, the simplicity of the radio and the magnificent events it covered–right from Nehru declaring India’s independence in the speech that still gives us goosebumps to the wars that India fought later–can hardly be replaced.

(Edited by Shruti Singhal)

Source……Tanvi Patel  in http://www.the better india.com

Natarajan