The Begum

by Deepa Agarwal

  In 1835, Lord Thomas Babington Macaulay, first law member of the governor-general’s council, published his famous Minute on Indian Education suggesting that English language education for Indians would be beneficial for the rulers by creating ‘cultural intermediaries’ between the British and Indians. Subsequently, the governor-general, Lord William Bentinck, passed the English Education Act, 1935. Soon, institutions that imparted education in the English medium began to proliferate in the country. In the United Provinces, Muir Central College, set up by Sir William Muir in 1876 in Allahabad, evolved into the University of Allahabad in 1887, the fourth to be founded in the country. For students in Lucknow, Canning College, founded in 1865 and affiliated to Calcutta University, provided degree courses. With the efforts of numerous philanthropists, Lucknow University was born in 1920. This was the institution where Irene received her master’s degree in 1929.

  The British rulers could not anticipate that in their eagerness to impose their own norms of education, they were setting the stage for their own ouster, though it would take several decades for the moment to arrive.

  The results would slowly become obvious. Dadabhai Naoroji, a highly educated Parsee, who also had a stint as a British member of parliament (1892–95), had formed the East India Association in 1867 in UK to counter anti-Indian propaganda. He also supported Surendranath Banerjea when he set up the Indian National Association in 1876 in Bengal. These two organizations were precursors of the Indian National Congress (founded in 1885) with which both Dadabhai and Surendranath were associated along with Allan Octavian Hume.

  As mentioned earlier, Sir Syed Ahmad Khan had set up the Mohammedan Anglo-Oriental College in Aligarh in 1875 to promote education among Muslims, which was to grow into the Aligarh Muslim University. Accordingly, even in the late nineteenth century, young people in northern India had access to many quality educational institutions and this led to a great transformation.

  4

  Irene Goes to School

  Since Daniel Pant worked for the government, he was subject to frequent transfers from place to place. The family moved to different towns throughout UP, and they also accompanied him when the government shifted its offices to Nainital for the summer.

  Situated at a height of 6,837 feet, the hill station of Nainital or Nain Tal, as the local people still pronounce it, enjoys great popularity as a holiday destination, particularly in summer when tourists invade it in hordes, seeking relief from the oppressive heat of the plains. While they delight in the pleasant weather and the numerous diversions the town provides, not too many are aware of its mythical origins.

  It is referred to in the Manas Khand of the Skand Purana as Tri-sapt-sarovar, the place where three of the saptrishis chose to meditate on Cheena peak. Being in need of water, they dug a hole at the foot of the mountain. Lord Brahma filled it with water from Lake Mansarovar and the lake was formed. According to another, better-known Puranic tale, Sati, one of Prajapati Daksha’s daughters, married Shiva. Daksha, who disapproved of Shiva, excluded them from a great yagya he was performing. Sati attended despite Shiva’s warnings and was insulted by her father. Deeply humiliated, the goddess flung herself into the sacrificial fire. Enraged and grief-stricken, Shiva arrived on the spot and wrecked the sacrifice. He picked up Sati’s half-burnt body and wandered all over the Indian subcontinent. Wherever its fifty-two parts fell, a Shakti Peeth sprang up. Sati’s eyes fell in the valley and formed the pear-shaped lake which was named Nain Tal and the place became sacred to Goddess Naina Devi.

  The first recorded temple was constructed sometime after 1840, but was buried in the great landslide of 1880. Later, the new Naina Devi temple was built which still stands.

  The British had occupied Kumaon after their victory in the Gurkha wars in 1816. However, the local people jealously guarded information about this revered spot from the invaders. It was only in 1839 that Peter Barron, a sugar trader from Shahjahanpur, discovered it. He described it as an undulating lawn, with clumps of oaks, cypress and deodar. Countless herds of deer that came to drink water from the lake had trodden paths through the forest. The place teemed with pheasants and other birds, bears roamed the rocks and caves of Ayarpatta hill, and the dense forest completely blocked out the light.1 The name Ayarpatta is the anglicized version of the Kumaoni term ‘anyar patt’ meaning ‘pitch dark’.

  It was an amazing discovery, and Peter built the first house, named Pilgrim Lodge, there in 1842. Soon the place began to take the shape of a town as more and more people decided to settle there. By 1847, it had become a fairly popular summer retreat. But it was during the uprising of 1857 that there was a noticeable spurt in the British population, when many families of officers fled there to escape the wrath of the Indian rebels.

  Nainital’s popularity with the British only escalated after that. The pace of construction speeded up and a large number of charming red-roofed bungalows in the colonial style sprang up. Hailing from much cooler climes, the ruling race found it impossible to cope with the extremities of the north Indian summer. Large numbers would head to the hills to recover after being laid low by the numerous ailments the hot weather brought. For the efficient functioning of his government, the viceroy had made Simla his summer capital since 1863. The United Provinces Secretariat similarly moved its offices to Nainital for six months in the year.

  When Daniel Pant’s job required him to move with his family to Nainital in summer, the question of good schooling for his children, an important consideration for him and his wife, was easily solved. He decided to admit his daughters to Wellesley High School, run by the Methodist Episcopal Mission.

  At that time, it was already a well-established institution. From 1858 onwards, several schools had been established by missionaries and Wellesley was one of them. It was founded in 1882, primarily for the education of European girls, as were some other schools in the town. Miss Knowles, who was the first principal, was a graduate of the well-known Wellesley College in the United States. She decided to name the school after her alma mater. It was a small school, as it had been decided as a matter of policy to not admit more than a hundred boarders and a smaller number of day scholars. The school ran from 1882 to 1931.

  Accordingly, when she was old enough, Irene was also admitted as a day scholar to Wellesley High School along with her older sister, Shanti. The sprightly little girl, who was a quick learner, soon became a favourite with her teachers. With her heart-shaped face and large eyes, she was an extremely attractive and lively child. In a brief account of her early life, her father writes: ‘During her kindergarten training she made a name for herself. Her teachers considered her a most brilliant student.’ Her mother was fond of dressing up her daughters. When she bought a red cloak for Irene, her teachers playfully nicknamed her ‘Red Riding Hood’.2

  Irene studied in Wellesley for three years. Most likely, the principal was Miss Easton at that time. It is said about her: ‘Miss Easton had wonderful ability and a sound judgement, as well as a characteristic of originality and wit.’3 She was also said to be a dedicated teacher who believed that her students should not only learn to use calculus but also how to knit a stocking on four needles.

  Irene thus began her schooling in an institution where the teachers were committed to the all-round development of their students. However, she was not to continue till she came to the study of calculus and knitting stockings on four needles, though she must have learnt many delightful songs from the excellent music teacher, Miss Bease. Her love for music has been mentioned not only by her husband’s biographer Ziauddin Ahmad in his book Liaquat Ali Khan—Builder of Pakistan but her nephew Jitendra as well—she had a good singing voice and played the piano and guitar. Later, she made sure her sons learnt to play the piano and violin and would sometimes accompany them on the guitar.4

  The family remained in Nainital for only six months, which meant there was a disruption in the children’s studies when the UP government moved back to the plains. As the girls grew older, Danie
l and Annie began to realize that their daughters needed a more settled school routine. For this reason, when Irene was in the fifth standard, she was admitted to Lal Bagh High School in Lucknow as a boarder. Lal Bagh was the girls’ school founded by Isabella Thoburn, an American missionary who was a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Better known for the women’s college named after her, Isabella had been very active in the field of education.

  She began Lal Bagh with just six students in 1870 in the Aminabad bazaar in Lucknow. Later, in 1871, the school moved to a building in Lal Bagh that had belonged to the treasurer of the last nawab of Awadh.

  With its spacious red-brick buildings with arched verandas and its wide grounds spread over seven acres, Lal Bagh was a well-regarded institution among the Indian Christian community. However, leaving home for boarding school along with a change in the medium of instruction required more than a little adjustment for Irene. Wellesley had been founded to cater to the needs of European girls, and hence the two sisters had been taught in English and spoke and wrote it fluently. But to make Lal Bagh Girls’ School inclusive for students from different backgrounds, it imparted education in Hindustani–Urdu, which was the language widely spoken in UP. The British had made it an official language, written in the Persian script. This meant Irene had to master a completely new script as well. Even at that early age, however, she demonstrated her ability to overcome challenges. She threw herself into the task with exemplary dedication and within a year she had become so proficient in Urdu that her teachers were astounded. Her fluency in Urdu was to stand her in good stead later in life. Coupled with her natural intelligence, this capacity for hard work meant that she did well in school. So when the time came to clear her matric exam, she passed with flying colours.

  Irene’s school and college education in Lucknow made an important contribution to her development as a future leader. While she discovered the satisfaction of excelling in academics and setting high personal goals for herself, she was also exposed to the most sophisticated culture in northern India.

  While Lucknow might be referred to as the ‘city of the nawabs’, its origins have been traced to the time of the Ramayana. The region of Awadh in which Lucknow lies came under the rule of the Delhi Sultanate in 1350, and then from 1394 to 1478, the Sharqi Sultanate of Jaunpur. In the reign of Humayun it was taken over by the Mughals who appointed a governor to administer it. When the Mughal Empire began to disintegrate, the nawabs of Awadh began to rule independently, shifting the capital to Lucknow from Faizabad. The nawabi culture that developed during this time was characterized by a patronage of music, dance and poetry, and an extreme refinement in matters of etiquette. But a new power was swiftly establishing its hegemony all over the country—the East India Company. Awadh’s turn came in 1856. The rich ‘garden, the granary and queen province of India’ was annexed, and the tenth nawab, Wajid Ali Shah, banished to Calcutta.

  However, even under the British rule, the city’s love for the arts and its elegant language—Urdu—stayed strong. There was a legacy of courteous behaviour among the inhabitants—sometimes so excessive that it became a joke—that did not die out either. And this was the culture in which Irene spent her formative years.

  Irene-Ra’ana’s extraordinary personal journey was a product of all the diverse influences she encountered during her early years. No doubt, her inborn talents were considerable. But it was her upbringing and the values her family held dear that nurtured her inquiring mind, and questing spirit, not to mention her qualities of compassion and generosity. At that time, it was rare for a woman to involve herself in any kind of work outside the cloistered spaces of her house. Irene’s mother Annie went against this trend. She had always possessed great empathy for those in need, and whenever the family was in Almora, she would volunteer at the tuberculosis sanatorium situated at Phalsimi village, a few miles outside the town. And if she came to know that a family was suffering hardship, she would immediately hurry to them with food and other essentials. Irene was always eager to accompany her mother on such errands, and the little girl’s sympathy would greatly move those she tried to help. Annie’s family had migrated to India from Nepal, and she had seen extremely hard times herself. Hence, she could empathize with the suffering of others. She even received a citation for her public service from the governor in 1935. In later life, Irene acknowledged that her mother was the source of her inspiration for social service.

  Interestingly, many years later, after she had moved to Pakistan, Ra’ana sent a telegram to a young woman named Rati Sawhney, saying, ‘Do something useful with your life.’ Rati, Ra’ana’s younger sister Meera Sawhney’s daughter-in-law, who often took charge of Ra’ana’s shopping and tailoring needs when she was visiting India, well remembers this message. It demonstrates what Ra’ana believed to be the true purpose of human existence—to always attempt to work for the benefit of others, that life did not mean just the pursuit of one’s own advancement or happiness but rather an obligation to make the world a better place.

  By the time Irene was ready to join college, political events were heating up, not only in the United Provinces but all over the country, demonstrating the growing desire of the Indian people for self-rule. While Indians had supported the British during World War I, its aftermath led to great suffering, with heavy casualties among Indian soldiers and the burden of increased taxation by the government to recoup its war losses.

  Mahatma Gandhi had returned to India in 1915 from South Africa to work for freedom. The following year a significant event took place—the Lucknow Pact was signed between the Muslim League and the Congress to make a combined effort towards the goal of self-rule. Jinnah was the architect and brains behind the pact and was hailed by Sarojini Naidu as ‘the ambassador of Hindu-Muslim unity’.

  A series of events escalated this undertaking. Gandhi launched the Champaran Satyagraha in 1917 to fight for the cause of impoverished farmers in Bihar, and the freedom movement acquired a mass base. The peasants had always been exploited by the landlords who were mostly British supporters. In 1918, some members of the Home Rule League in UP, including Gauri Shankar Misra, Indra Narain Dwivedi and Madan Mohan Malaviya, began to organize the farmers into Kisan Sabhas. By 1920, an alternative Awadh Kisan Sabha was set up at Pratapgarh with the efforts of Jawaharlal Nehru, Mata Badal Pande, Baba Ram Chandra, Dev Narayan Pande and Kedar Nath, and about 330 Kisan Sabhas were part of this body. Many demonstrations were organized to protest against unfair rent laws and the practice of begar or unpaid labour.

  The shocking Jallianwala Bagh massacre in Amritsar in 1919 fuelled public anger against the British. Mahatma Gandhi had, however, always advocated peaceful methods of agitation, and the year 1921 saw the launch of the Non-Cooperation Movement. This came to an end abruptly when the Mahatma withdrew it after the violent Chauri Chaura incident. This led to disaffection among a segment of freedom fighters who were not convinced that the goal of freedom could be attained by non-violent methods. A group of young revolutionaries hatched a plan to loot government cash in 1924 and executed it by holding up a train carrying money at a place called Kakori near Lucknow. This incident became famous as the Kakori Robbery case. They were caught and Ashfaqulla Khan, Ram Prasad Bismil, Roshan Singh and Rajendra Lahiri were hanged, four others were sent to Andaman and Nicobar Islands for life and seventeen others were sentenced to long-term imprisonment. Chandra Shekhar Azad managed to escape at that time.

  Young Irene, with her lively, inquiring mind, could not remain detached from the growing ferment in the country, and the day would soon come when she too would be a part of it.

  5

  The Springboard of Destiny

  June 1923

  It was the month of June, and the heat of summer was at its height in the plains of the United Provinces, with the searing ‘loo’ blowing clouds of dust. In the hills, however, the weather was very pleasant.

  The Pants were holidaying in Almora when the news came. The brood had grown to eight sibling
s now. Henry, the youngest, born in November 1921, was still a toddler and Olga, exactly two years older, had not yet started school.

  It was exciting news and something that the family had been awaiting anxiously. Irene had passed her matric and that too in the first division. This was definitely something to celebrate, and her proud parents distributed sweets. Her next goal was the intermediate examination, known as first arts or FA. We must keep in mind the fact that at that time education was a distant dream for most Indian girls. By the age of eighteen, the majority would have got married and given birth to a couple of children. In Irene’s community, however, this progress in education was the norm. As is stated in a paper on the first Indian principal of Isabella Thoburn College: ‘Christian women didn’t have to fight against tradition to be educated. Modernization came with Christianity.’1 Thus, most middle-class Christian families educated their daughters and encouraged them to take up careers either in medicine—whether as doctors or nurses—or in education.

  In their conservative home town, the more emancipated Pant sisters were often the object of goggle-eyed stares, even envy, as author Ira Pande has mentioned in Diddi, her engaging biography of her mother, the well-loved novelist, Shivani. In this passage translated from Shivani’s original piece in Hindi, ‘Lohaniji’, the novelist shares childhood memories of the very different lives their relatives and neighbours led in the mohalla known as Kasoon in Almora. ‘The house adjoining my grandfather’s belonged to the family of Daniel Pant, a Christian who was once related to us from my mother’s family. However, after Daniel Pant [his father presumably] converted to Christianity, our orthodox grandfather erected a wall to separate their world from ours so that we had nothing to do with each other. The three of us were sternly forbidden to even look that way.’2