This Woman is Taking India Back to its Roots; New Yorker Hails her

Anusha Yadav’s beautiful Indian Memory Project captures the vibe of the country through old photos and letters.

Last week, the New Yorker paid homage to a beautiful online project that has already captivated the heart of the country it started in – India. Titled the “Indian Memory Project”, the latter is an “online, curated, visual and narrative based archive that traces a history of the Indian Subcontinent, via photographs and letters found in personal archives” – according to its own website.

So how did the New Yorker help out? It posted some of these breathtaking photographs – all sepia-toned and black and white – of memories of living in India in the 1900s. All with the help of the founder of the founder of Indian Memory Project – Mumbai-based photographer and curator, Anusha Yadav.

These photos below were specially chosen by Anusha Yadav to be posted on the New Yorker’s Instagram feed for they feature “simple stories, but those which have a powerful impact”. The photos were run all of last week in a beautiful amalgamation of history.

Take a look.

Image & text Veena Sajnani. Bangalore. As told to Smita Sajnani. In 1970, when I was a fashion model, I toured with Femina all over India doing fashion shows.Our salary at the time was Rs. 150 ($2.3) per show and it was a lot of fun. While rehearsing one day, I was informed that I was no longer required on the ramp. Very upset, I presumed I had been kicked out because I had made a mistake. But no, apparently a call for Miss India 1970 had been announced and I was selected to participate. The funny part was, I hadn’t even applied for it. I then found out that Meher Mistry and Persis Khambatta, both of whom were the original Super Models of India, and close friends, had filled in the application form on my behalf. Before the day of the pageant, we were asked to come to the Times of India office terrace (parent company of Femina) with a swim-suit and be photographed in it, because in those days, judges looked at pictures instead of the actual girls in swim-suits. On the pageant day, the judges came backstage to check us and since it was dark they had flashlights and our photos in their hands. We all giggled but it was better than walking out half naked under full lights. During the pageant’s fashion show, Persis who was walking the ramp decided to find out how I was faring. Each time she was on the ramp she would peek into the judges’ notes and claimed she saw the number 6, my number. We all pooh and paahed but when the winner was announced it was indeed me, Veena Sajnani. Persis and Meher were thrilled to bits. After all I had beaten Zeenat Aman (later a famous movie star). I too was happy for myself for joining the elite band of Miss Indias. ………….. This is @indianmemoryproject from, India. Follow us as we present Indian Subcontinent's surprising history through personal photographs & lives of its people. All texts are edited to fit the format of Instagram.  www.indianmemoryproject.com is the world's first visual and narrative archive that traces a history of a largely undocumented subcontinent, via images & narratives sent by people from all over the world. Founded by Photographer/Curator - Anusha Yadav - @photowaali #history #indiansubcontinent

A photo posted by New Yorker Photo (@newyorkerphoto) on Aug 5, 2015 at 5:08am PDT

Image and Text contributed by Anisha Jacob Sachdev, New Delhi. This picture with my mother Anupa Jacob, standing right (nee Nathaniel) and her friend Shalini when they were in school at Convent of Jesus & Mary in Delhi in 1962. They were around 15 years old. My mother was a Rajasthani, from the small town near Ajmer. Her father was orphaned when a plague hit the village, he and many others were then adopted by the British. Everyone adopted was converted to Christianity and given the last name ‘Nathaniel’. From Nathu Singh, my grandfather became Fazal Masih Nathaniel. He went on to become the Head of the English Language Department at Mayo College, in Rajasthan My mother married my father Philip Jacob, in 1968. He is a Syrian Christian – whom she met while she was studying at school at the age of 15. One of the most interesting parts of my mother’s life was that Shalini, some other friends and she, formed the first ever Delhi University‘s Girl Rock Band called “Mad Hatter” in their 1st year of college at Miranda House. It is so far the first known girl band of India, as we no knowledge of anything earlier, yet. My mother was the lead guitarist and singer. Family stories say that , when the Beatles came in Delhi in 1966, the Mad Hatters even got to meet them. My mother had four kids. She was also a piano teacher, and her youngest child and my youngest sister Arunima is autistic but an ace piano player and has performed Beethoven Music pieces with complete accuracy. My mother suffered a cardiac arrest in 1982, and passed away in 1986. Shalini, my mother’s friend in the photograph (left) is now a psychologist in London. ………….. This is @indianmemoryproject from, India. Follow us as we present Indian Subcontinent's surprising history through personal photographs & lives of its people. All texts are edited to fit the format of instagram. www.indianmemoryproject.com is a visual and narrative archive that traces a history of a largely undocumented subcontinent, via images and narratives sent by people from all over the world. Founded by Photographer/Curator - Anusha Yadav - @photowaali #history #indiansubcontinent

A photo posted by New Yorker Photo (@newyorkerphoto) on Aug 8, 2015 at 7:05am PDT

Image & Text by Sunita Kriplani, Goa In 1947, after India and Pakistan's partition, my maternal grandparents migrated to India with their nine children, from Karachi, Pakistan and settled in Pune, Maharashtra. My mother Mohini, second of the seven sisters was just 16 at that time. My grandfather got a job in the Income Tax department and although times were tough, he ensured that the children were well educated. By the 1950s the sisters were well versed in household skills, especially stitching and embroidery. They fashioned their own clothes, copying designs from magazines and window displays of Pune markets. At home while they maintained decorum and modesty, ever so often, Duru, my mother’s younger sister, would coax her to come along with her to a photo studio called The Art Gallery to get their photographs taken secretly. Duru would pack ties and beads, scarves and skirts, hats and belts, and make-up, and then the two of them would mount their bicycles and head for the photo studio where they indulged their dreams and vanities in front of a camera with studio props and accessories. In this picture my mother is wearing “Awara pants”, a style made famous with the huge hit Hindi movie “Awara” and replicating the style of the movie’s female star Nargis, while nonchalantly holding a cigarette albeit unlit, between her fingers. After college, my mother got a job at the Department of Cooperation, Government of Maharashtra as one of the first few women in government service. She retired from the department in 1985 as the Assistant Registrar of Cooperative Societies, Bombay. ………….. This is @indianmemoryproject , India. Follow us as we present India's surprising history through photographs & lives of its people.  Indianmemoryproject.com is the world's first visual and narrative based archive that traces a history of a largely undocumented subcontinent, via images and narratives contributed by people from all over the world. Founded by - Anusha Yadav - @photowaali #history #indiansubcontinent

A photo posted by New Yorker Photo (@newyorkerphoto) on Aug 5, 2015 at 2:15pm PDT

Image & Text by Juhi Pande, London This is one of my most favorite pictures, taken in a small town known as Etawah, Uttar Pradesh (North India) in 1977. My mother (right) had just finished her graduation and was teaching in a school. My aunt Rashmi, the bike rider was still in school, in the 12th standard. They lived there with their father, Dr. Krishna Kumar, a Chief Medical Officer. In Etawah, there used to be a local fair every year which the entire city would attend, because that’s what you did when you were in Etawah. There were food stalls and rides and balloon & air gun shooting galleries. And then there was this photo studio where one could take dashing, avant-garde photographs. So, of course Soma & Rashmi climbed aboard this cardboard bike and posed. I can almost hear Rashmi’s laughter once the picture was developed. I feel you cannot entirely be pretty unless you are a bit silly. My mother and my aunt were born four years apart. But that’s just a technicality. Soulmates is a very vanilla word when it comes to them. Born to doctors, they lead a very nomadic life until their 20s. Growing up from little girls to stunning young women I feel that they started to think alike yet maintained such different personalities that it was remarkable. I genuinely believe that they can read each others minds. I feel I love Dhruv, my brother, just like Soma Loves Rashmi. And I know it’s genetic. My aunt Rashmi, now lives in Germany and my mother in Mumbai …………. This is @indianmemoryproject from one of the most curious and interesting countries in the world, India. Follow us as we present India's surprising history through personal photographs & lives of its people. www.indianmemoryproject.com is the world's first visual and narrative based archive that traces a history of a largely undocumented subcontinent, via images and narratives contributed by people from all over the world. Founded by Photographer/Curator - Anusha Yadav - @photowaali #history #indiansubcontinent

A photo posted by New Yorker Photo (@newyorkerphoto) on Aug 4, 2015 at 6:11am PDT

Image and Text contributed by Abhijit Das Gupta, Kolkata This image is of my swimming trainer Nalin Malik (left) with my father and me in Calcutta (now Kolkata), West Bengal. It was photographed in 1950. I was about four years old. My Father used to take me to the swimming club in Dhakuria lake (renamed Rabindra Sarovar). The pool in the club doesn’t exist anymore. People used to say that Nalin Malik did not swim – he mowed the water apart. What is not known well is that Nalin represented British India in the 1932 Olympics held in Los Angeles, USA . He never had any formal training, infact  he was so poor that he could not even afford full meals. My uncle, Pankaj Gupta spotted Nalin swimming in the Ganges. Pankaj Gupta was a sports administrator and also began his career with the 1932 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. He was a manager and coach to the Indian contingent and managed several sports events across Europe and the USA. Nalin Malik stood fourth in the 400 Meters Swimming Heat 4. He swam without even a proper swimming costume. The unfortunate part is that Nalin remained an unacknowledged, secluded, and a very lonely man whom no one remembered or paid tribute to. I, however, have fond memories of him. He was a very tough trainer. On this day in a cold December of 1950 he made me cross the lake. ………….. This is @indianmemoryproject from, India. Follow us as we present Indian Subcontinent's surprising history through personal photographs & lives of its people. All texts are edited to fit the format of instagram. www.indianmemoryproject.com is a visual and narrative archive that traces a history of a largely undocumented subcontinent, via images and narratives sent by people from all over the world. Founded by Photographer/Curator - Anusha Yadav - @photowaali #history #indiansubcontinent

A photo posted by New Yorker Photo (@newyorkerphoto) on Aug 9, 2015 at 8:58am PDT

Image & Text by Anand Halve, Mumbai This is about a group of ‘Indians’ that will probably vanish before most Indians ever even hear of them. The Ongee or Onge tribe, are one of the indigenous Andamanese tribes. Until the late 1940s, the Ongees were the only permanent occupants of Little Andaman, the southernmost island in the Andaman group of 324 islands. The Non-Ongees began to settle on Little Andaman in large numbers in the early 1950s. Among the earliest visitors – in the early 1960s – was a seven year-old boy (me) and his six year-old sister Jyoti. My father, Bhaskar Halve was posted as the Deputy Commissioner of the Union Territory of Andaman & Nicobar. His job took him to study various islands and we were only too happy to tag along. The Ongees are traditionally a nomadic hunting and gathering tribe. I recall stories told to us by the sailors who visited the islands where the Ongees lived. The Ongees were masters of the bow – I recall watching an Ongee spear a fish through the refracted sea-water with his arrow. I recall stories of a strange plant whose leaves they chewed, and after rubbing the chewed juice on their bodies, were able to climb trees and pluck chunks of honeycombs, untroubled by the bees. I recall stories about the cannibal Jarawas (a tribe related to the Ongees), but the sailors laughingly told us that the Ongees were friendly. Yet you can see a certain trepidation in our expressions as we posed with Ongee kids for a photograph. However, they were friendly enough and we got along without knowing each other’s language, as only children can. It still makes me smile. As of recent information I believe there are fewer than 100 Ongees left, and with low fertility rates, are on the verge of disappearing forever into a footnote of history. But I hope there are a few old anonymous Ongees out there who remember playing with a couple of kids from the mainland... as I remember them. ………….. This is @indianmemoryproject, India. Follow us as we present Indian Subcontinent's surprising history through personal photographs & lives of its people. All texts are edited to fit the format of instagram. www.indianmemoryproject.com founded by @photowaali

A photo posted by New Yorker Photo (@newyorkerphoto) on Aug 6, 2015 at 12:28am PDT