A communist wolf in British clothing
"The best thing that happened to me in my Statesman days was meeting Amrita Sher-Gil." —Thomas Malcolm Muggeridge
In 1937, Amrita met a handsome British journalist, Thomas Malcolm Muggeridge (1903–1990). He was a communist sympathiser, a British soldier and a spy. As is usually the case with journalists and diplomats, Thomas worked undercover as an editor for the Statesman newspaper in Calcutta (the capital of the British East India Company until 1911, after which New Delhi became the new power-centre).
Thomas' father, H.T. Muggeridge, was an active member of the socialist Fabian Society. Notable members of the society were George Bernard Shaw, some British Prime Ministers and many Parliamentarians. Hence, seventeen wealthy financiers leftovers of the exploitive monopolistic British East India Company re-grouped to push their elitist agenda through the Fabian Society.
By 1946, the Fabian Society was 8,400 strong with 80 chapters. Among the members were Bertrand Russell, Pandit Motilal Nehru (father of India's first Prime Minister, Jawaharial Nehru, and leader of the Independence movement who founded the Swaraj, or 'self-rule' Party), and Ramsey McDonald (Prime Minister of England in 1924, 1929-35). Nearly half of Labour Party representatives and its leaders in the House of Commons were Fabians. Their original coats of arms depicted a Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.
By 1946, the Fabian Society was 8,400 strong with 80 chapters. Among the members were Bertrand Russell, Pandit Motilal Nehru (father of India's first Prime Minister, Jawaharial Nehru, and leader of the Independence movement who founded the Swaraj, or 'self-rule' Party), and Ramsey McDonald (Prime Minister of England in 1924, 1929-35). Nearly half of Labour Party representatives and its leaders in the House of Commons were Fabians. Their original coats of arms depicted a Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.
The Fabian Society had another very important member: Annie Besant. In broad daylight socialists came from England to influence Raj-era Indians. Annie was an active recruiter for Russian satanist and theosophist Madame Blavatsky. The Madame was a student of Anton Mesmer (a Freemason) who taught her hypnotism. Gandhi, a Theosohist, promoted anti-British sentiments. Hitler was a Theosophist who dabbled in the occult to gain political and technological powers via the Thule Society and the Vril secret group of the top Nazis.
Annie was quick to wrap Muhammad Ali Jinnah and others around her finger and had them all join her Home Rule League. When they went about promoting nationalism and patriotism ("...the last refuge of the scoundrel"), the whole idea appeared not imported from England or Russia but rather home-cooked in India.
Theospohical Society logo |
Briefly, conditions were created to promote hatred for the British so that breakup of the Empire could easily be achieved through international socialism (communism) and national socialism (Nazism). The world was being prepared by breaking up empires into more manageable groups for the secret elites to create a totally controlled environment.
With a fading monarchy at home, some Indians believed in distant democracy and capitalism, others looked up to nearby communism. Truly, England had bewitched India with her Houses of Commons and Lords that protected an unwritten constitution. All well-dressed Englishmen seemed blameless when they let poor Indians die for their unelected monarch's divine right of kings. The blind remained oblivious of the divisive power of all 'isms' and labels, and the deaf sided with this or that party only to generate heated discussions.
Of love and lovers
“All discarded lovers should be given a second chance, but with somebody else.” ― Mae WestWhether male or female, Amrita liked to paint her lovers. She did a portrait of Muggeridge and revealed the reason for not painting Nehru to Iqbal Singh (who wrote her biography 43 years after her death): "Because he is too good looking".
Thomas Muggeridge would later confide in novelist and journalist Khuswant Singh: "She had lots of lovers".
When Khuswant said, "I knew at least a dozen in Lahore who claimed to have bedded her", Thomas exclaimed, "For sure! She had quite an appetite for sex. I should know."
Sir Muhammad Iqbal did not possess the looks of a medieval knight covered in shining armour but mentally he was very well-endowed, hence, Amrita only photographed him in Paris in 1933.
The 'wet rag' story
"Simla is an authentic English production; designed by sahibs for sahibs—without any reference to any other consideration—not even Maharajas." —Thomas Malcolm MuggeridgeMuggeridge ran into Amrita somewhere in Calcutta or Delhi, where she was exhibiting her work. They would soon become entangled. Amrita invited Muggeridge over at her parents' home in Summer Hill (Simla) where he stayed for a week. To him Sardar Umrao Singh Majithia was an 'attractive father' and fiery Marie Antoinette a 'vulgar red-haired' Hungarian. The parents were acutely aware of the physical cravings of talented Amrita.
The British had already politically neutralised rebellious Umrao and Marie had twice had extra-marital fun; only one insult remained: defiling the daughter at home through an agent 'at Her Majesty's Secret Service'.
Malcolm Muggeridge, 1929 |
Spies are trained to extract information without arousing the suspicion of their targets. Amrita shot herself in the foot by blabbering to Muggeridge all about her affairs and abortions.
Although he was in the prime of his youth, he explained how it ended:
"I was no match for the Indo-Hungarian lass nearly ten years younger. At the end of the week, I was thoroughly exhausted, like a wet rag which has been put through a wringer. She came to see me off at the Summer Hill railway station. As she waved goodbye to me when my rail-car began to move, she had a triumphant smile on her face."Vulnerable in many ways, Amrita later confessed to Indira how she compared his physical qualities with those of her French female lover Marie Louise Chasseny. Had Amrita been trained by Umrao, India might have conquered tiny 'Great' Britain through Muggeridge.
Malcolm Muggeridge left the moment he was offered a better job in England at the British intelligence (MI6). He reached the rank of a major during World War Two. Later in life he became a moral and religious campaigner. This again might have been a cover because his own niece, Sally Muggeridge, accused 'the pouncer' of being a 'serial groper'.
A kick in society's groin
In order to acquire a growing and lasting respect in society, it is a good thing, if you possess great talent, to give, early in your youth, a very hard kick to the right shin of the society that you love. After that, be a snob.
—Salvador Dali
Amrita returned a prize given her by the Simla Fine Art Society because she thought the Society 'rejected her best work and gave the award for an inferior painting'. This caused a commotion in the world of art.
Back to being herself, she experimented by displaying contradictory and embarrassing attitudes when in westernised Indian company. For the sake of progressing further she tolerated the elites whom she found 'too conservative and respectful towards the British colonialists'.
Day and 'knight'
Interestingly, Amrita noted that 'the Oxford and Cambridge types' who joined the civil service appeared 'dull, uninteresting and scandal-mongering'. Sensibly she surrounded herself with intelligent friends who understood art and literature.
Strangely she found Hindus too conservative and Muslims accepting of her licentious behaviour. Since Sir Muhammad Iqbal was a 'Cambridge-type' Muslim lawyer and a poet, one wonders what status he had in her universe.
Strangely she found Hindus too conservative and Muslims accepting of her licentious behaviour. Since Sir Muhammad Iqbal was a 'Cambridge-type' Muslim lawyer and a poet, one wonders what status he had in her universe.
In old English and German, knight means: 'boy, servant, bondsman and vassal'. The title of 'sir' means: 'service to the monarch or as a fighter for a lord, with payment in the form of land holdings'. If Umrao Singh knew the truth of the matter, did Amrita know it too? Did she address Iqbal as sir, mister or just Iqbal?
The Bengal School
Amrita's high education in art made her contemptuous towards artists of the Bengal school, whom she compared to the ancient 'Ajanta cave-painters'.
Although she appreciated Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore's painting style she unloaded a mouthful while describing him: "His eminence is due to the surrounding flatness of the country".
Was Amrita aware that the Tagore family were outcast Pirili Brahmins and Dwarkendranath Tagore (Rabindranath's grandfather) unloaded ships full of opium in China to help British 'traders' turn it into a nation of addicts?
Tagore versus Iqbal
When the Jallianawala Bagh Massacre of Amritsar happened in 1919, sensibly Sir Rabindranath Tagore atoned for his Bengali ancestors' sins by renouncing his knighthood through a letter written to Lord Chelmsford, the viceroy of India:
"The time has come when badges of honour make our shame glaring in the incongruous context of humiliation, and I for my part, wish to stand, shorn, of all special distinctions, by the side of those of my countrymen who, for their so called insignificance, are liable to suffer degradation not fit for human beings."By sharp contrast Allama Iqbal, who lived close to Amritsar, retained his knighthood. Tagore was knighted in 1915, four years before the Amritsar massacre; Iqbal received his honour in 1923, four years after the event. How was self-taught Tagore able to soar like an eagle in far-off Bengal leaving Dr Iqbal to run with the Indian hares and hunt with the British lion?
A head-on collision with the Nizam
My nervous system is very much weakened – nothing but painting in oil can keep me going. —Paul CezanneWhen Amrita visited the Nizam of Hyderabad she noticed his admirers outdoing one another in heaping praises on his art collection and fine taste.
Briefly, the rich 223,000 Km² State of Hyderabad (one out of 566) was roughly the size of England. It was the sole global supplier of diamonds during the British colonial era and its ruler, the Nizam Mir Osman Ali Khan Bahadur, was the richest Indian Prince. He held the titles of 'His Exalted Highness' and 'Faithful Ally of the British Crown' and received a 21-gun salute.
The Nizam paid for the airplanes used by the Royal Air Force #110 Squadron during World War One and possessed $34 billion of wealth that put him on Time magazine's cover for the February 22, 1937 issue. He used the 185-carat Jacob Diamond as a paperweight.
Unfazed by glitter, Amrita expressed horror at seeing the Nizam's multi-million Rupees worth of 'junk' collection. When asked what she thought of his art collection, she shocked everyone present by counter-questioning him:
"How on earth can anybody with any taste buy Leighton, Bouguereau and Watts when there were Cézannes, Van Goghs and Gauguins in the market?"
Appearing outwardly calm but inwardly outraged, the Nizam refused to buy Amrita's two cubist paintings and which made her more furious.
Was Amrita aware that the Nizam's ancestor, Nizam Ali (alias Fateh Jung), had conspired with the British to bring down Tipu Sultan? Tipu preferred French imperialism, looked up to Napoleon Bonaparte and the Ottomon Empire, and militarily opposed the British for thirty-three long years. When the British murdered this 'Lion of Mysore' and annexed his kingdom they shared it with the 'traitor' Nizam.
Umrao Singh's blood boiled living under British rule and it is fair to say it circulated with the same temperature within Amrita's body.
At loggerheads with Marie
When Marie showed signs of mental instability, mistreated servants and lied, Amrita scolded her. A ferocious mind, a sharp tongue, unashamed openness about her behaviour, and an insistence on her right to behave as she pleased, showed in Amrita's correspondence with her father:
A few months before her sudden death, Amrita wrote candidly to her sister mentioning she had 'passed through a nervous crisis, felt impotent, dissatisfied, and unable to weep because elemental forces in life were disrupting the equilibrium, and chaos, darkness, wars, earthquakes, floods, all were indefinably interconnected'.
Clearly, Amrita felt overwhelmed by life and the turbulent era she lived in. Even her sister's handwriting shocked her: "You must make an effort to render it legible".
Society and the 'white' press
"I don't listen to what art critics say. I don't know anybody who needs a critic to find out what art is." —Jean-Michel Basquiat (Haitian/Puerto Rican American painter who died aged 27)
Amrita discovered her Indian spirit in the true colours of the land. By 1936 things began to change. The Indian press finally saw the genius in Amrita but not without feeling repulsed by her 'ugly subjects'. The 'white' press saw her darker subjects on canvas as unwashed and unattractive.
Amrita refused to surrender her strong brown mind to self-hating Indians. Through an article Amrita counter-attacked the 'cheap tricks' used by the critics to accuse her of showing only the 'sunny side' of Indian life.
The same year she held a successful exhibition at Bombay where the press thought she painted too brightly. Amrita disagreed because she felt she 'only painted that way if the subject demanded it'.
When Marie showed signs of mental instability, mistreated servants and lied, Amrita scolded her. A ferocious mind, a sharp tongue, unashamed openness about her behaviour, and an insistence on her right to behave as she pleased, showed in Amrita's correspondence with her father:
"She charges us indiscriminately with every vice, criminal ingratitude being the least of them, of filth, sloth and abnormal sexual manias."Caught between a passive conventional father and an increasingly deranged mother, Amrita embraced artistic outspokenness and adored what was beautiful around her. In a letter to her sister Indira, she mentioned the frescoes of Cochin influencing her 'as deeply as Breughel and Renoir did'.
A few months before her sudden death, Amrita wrote candidly to her sister mentioning she had 'passed through a nervous crisis, felt impotent, dissatisfied, and unable to weep because elemental forces in life were disrupting the equilibrium, and chaos, darkness, wars, earthquakes, floods, all were indefinably interconnected'.
Clearly, Amrita felt overwhelmed by life and the turbulent era she lived in. Even her sister's handwriting shocked her: "You must make an effort to render it legible".
Society and the 'white' press
"I don't listen to what art critics say. I don't know anybody who needs a critic to find out what art is." —Jean-Michel Basquiat (Haitian/Puerto Rican American painter who died aged 27)
Amrita discovered her Indian spirit in the true colours of the land. By 1936 things began to change. The Indian press finally saw the genius in Amrita but not without feeling repulsed by her 'ugly subjects'. The 'white' press saw her darker subjects on canvas as unwashed and unattractive.
Amrita refused to surrender her strong brown mind to self-hating Indians. Through an article Amrita counter-attacked the 'cheap tricks' used by the critics to accuse her of showing only the 'sunny side' of Indian life.
The same year she held a successful exhibition at Bombay where the press thought she painted too brightly. Amrita disagreed because she felt she 'only painted that way if the subject demanded it'.
The accusation that her work was 'inspired by gloomy poor villagers' was countered with great truthfulness: "Because they have sincerity, nobility and dignity".
In 1937 she won a gold medal ('Best Work') for her 'Three Girls' painting at the Bombay art Society's art exhibition. More admirers saw the flame of genius in her. She explored southern India's Ajanta caves and also experiment more liberally after seeing the miniature Mughal, Pahari and Rajasthani medieval paintings. What she found impressive were 'the earth, rich vegetation, coconut trees, bananas, palm trees, tiny bamboo huts, red clay hamlets, and everyone wearing white'.
During the trip she was overjoyed 'not seeing a single European' or any 'trace of European civilisation'. To her the indigenous people were suddenly 'extra-ordinarily beautiful in their bodice and a dhoti, in the way they tied their hair and the all-white clothing'.
By 1937 Amrita's exhibition at Allahabad had brought greater fame but still no fortune. She declined an offer to write a book on modern Indian art as she correctly sensed: "If I did, the art critics would all set on me like a pack of hyenas and tear me to bits."
The Majithias (Marie, Amrita, Indira, Umrao) |
On 21st November 1937, Amrita opened an exhibition in Lahore and received more raving reviews. The show was extended for a few days because people actually came to see the beautiful sharp-minded Hungarian-Indian painter in full glory. In the end, some commissioned work came by which she hated doing.
While in Lahore, Amrita learnt of having received a 'best work' award at the All India Fine Arts and Crafts Exhibition held in Delhi. She disliked her new label, 'lady artist', as it smacked of 'concession due to the feebler sex.'
In 1938 Amrita left for Saraya where she spent the winter surrounded by those she had begun to love: the poor of the land.
Escape from India
"I can only paint in India. Europe belongs to Picasso, Matisse, Braque; India belongs only to me". —Amrita Sher-Gil
Amrita's parents wished her to marry Karl Khandalavala. When she revealed Victor was the man for her they reacted with hostility. The mother wanted her to marry into moneyed high society and the father opposed Amrita because 'marrying a blood relation was not accepted in India'.
Amrita knew there were plenty of Indian men desirous of marrying her but was petrified of sacrificing art at the altar of being both a picture-perfect wife and a mother. Because her Hungarian fiancé seemed to respect and understand her views, she always dreamt of marrying the childhood love and first cousin. She also feared she was not cut out for marriage and lacked the quality of becoming an 'ideal wife'.
Victor was studying medicine in Hungary. Amrita made it clear to him that they would settle in India after marrying because she 'could not paint in Europe but only could in India'.
After visiting Simla and Bombay, determined Amrita set sail for Hungary on June 29th, 1938. Only twenty-five and wishing to be independent yet dependant on Victor's income, she married him against her parent's wishes. Her parents, wishing to get to the bottom of the matter, found in her room a collection of revealing correspondence. She wrote to them:
Amrita knew there were plenty of Indian men desirous of marrying her but was petrified of sacrificing art at the altar of being both a picture-perfect wife and a mother. Because her Hungarian fiancé seemed to respect and understand her views, she always dreamt of marrying the childhood love and first cousin. She also feared she was not cut out for marriage and lacked the quality of becoming an 'ideal wife'.
Victor was studying medicine in Hungary. Amrita made it clear to him that they would settle in India after marrying because she 'could not paint in Europe but only could in India'.
After visiting Simla and Bombay, determined Amrita set sail for Hungary on June 29th, 1938. Only twenty-five and wishing to be independent yet dependant on Victor's income, she married him against her parent's wishes. Her parents, wishing to get to the bottom of the matter, found in her room a collection of revealing correspondence. She wrote to them:
"I must admit that it was a bit of a shock to hear that all my letters are being perused and consigned to the flames! I merely hope that the letters of Marie Louise, Malcolm Muggeridge, Jawaharlal Nehru, Edith and Karl have been spared. I had left them behind not because I thought them dangerous witnesses of my evil past but because I didn't wish to increase my already heavy luggage. However, now I suppose I have to resign myself to a bleak old age unrelieved by the entertainment that the perusal of old love letters would have afforded it."
Third unwanted pregnancy
"I can resist everything except temptation." —Oscar WildeTwo abortions should have been enough but Amrita remained incurable. While in Simla, she had an affair with a young and handsome Englishman, Walter Collins.
En route to Hungary she found she was pregnant and had the ship's doctor attempt an unsuccessful abortion. When they docked at Naples, Amrita found Victor waiting. They continued to Genoa by ship and onward to Budapest by train. Amrita kept her secret.
In July 1938, the couple stayed with Victor's mother. The few years they planned to spend in Hungary would allow Victor to finish his medical studies and on-the-job training.
There was political turmoil in Hungary and Czechoslovakia due to the Nazi presence at the borders. Then suddenly Victor, who was a member of the Army Reserves, was called to duty. Victor's uncle, a government official, warned the couple about the expected war and begged them to leave immediately for India.
By now Amrita was beginning to haemorrhage, a large bloody clot oozed out and which Victor sent to the laboratory for examination. Even after learning that it was an unborn foetus, his affection for Amrita did not diminish.
Marriage with Victor Egan
“Love is the foolishness of men, and the wisdom of God.” ― Victor Hugo, Les MisérablesBack in Lahore, Amrita's family friend Dr Sir Allama Muhammad Iqbal breathed his last on 21 April 1938.
Victor was able to leave his regiment, return to Budapest and marry Amrita in a simple civil ceremony on July 16th 1938. Amrita's will had prevailed in this battle with her parents; their blessings would come later.
The marriage required Amrita to surrender the British Indian Passport and acquire a Hungarian one. Victor's uncle, Nandor Menet, arranged for Victor to take a long leave without pay and made arrangements for the penniless couple to leave Hungary.
Back to the far pavilions
Allama Iqbal (c.1930s) |
"God gives the nuts, but he does not crack them." ―Franz KafkaAmrita being an unknown artist in Hungary failed to sell any paintings. Victor's pay was barely enough and they had no savings.
World War Two was just around the corner. In June 1938 Amrita and Victor escaped from Fascist dominated Hungary. To her, Fascism mocked at justice, suppressed individual freedom and dominated weak countries. She thought it dreadful to see Paris fall into Nazi hands and cared more about modern French art and younger artists than anything else.
After getting some family money from Germany, the couple left Budapest on June 19th, 1939. Two weeks later they were in Colombo with just four British Pounds in possession. More money came by and on July 5th and they boarded a train for Madurai where they stayed for two days to visit temples and carvings.
Once back in Saraya they settled within the ancestral Majithia household. Here Amrita learnt to make friends with female relatives and servants, an activity which made her acutely aware of women's traditional orientation and their social and psychological problems.
While they had long horse rides, indulged in organised tiger hunts on the backs of elephants, and enjoyed feudal extravagances, there was no stimulating company, no one with whom Amrita could hold an intelligent conversation, and no opportunity to expand ideas. She felt trapped, suffocated, an 'unutterable lassitude and vague chemeric fear' descended upon her as 1940 came to a close.
Riding an emotional roller-coaster
"Art is the only serious thing in the world. And the artist is the only person who is never serious."
—Oscar Wilde
The young couple travelled to Madras to see Mahabalipuram which Amrita described as 'the most haunting place in all of South India'.
Soon they were in Simla where Victor planned to set up his medical practice and let Amrita paint but they again moved to Saraya and stopped over in Delhi.
In a letter to her friend Karl, Amrita admitted she was 'depressed and discouraged by the lack of appreciation'. After sending four paintings to the annual exhibition of the Bombay Fine Arts Society, she became even more depressed when some of her best ones were rejected. Someone even offered to buy one painting for a paltry sum.
Finding herself again in 'better spirits and happier' despite the uncertainties, she began to paint and sculpt on commission.
In an effort to gain recognition as a painter, Amrita sent four paintings to Delhi for an exhibition which had been arranged by her friend Barada Ukil. Unfortunately none of her paintings won a prize, not even a mention. Despite that Amrita continued to paint and during the first half of 1940 she produced smaller paintings.
By August of 1940, she had found peace within and contentment in Saraya with Victor. In a letter to her parents she wrote: "We are so pleased and happy. I am producing good things. Victor has got a job, and not such a bad one either, far better than we hoped for, in fact, we are quite satisfied with our lot."
Survival of the dirtiest
In December of 1940, Amrita began feeling very depressed and discouraged. In a letter to Indira she wrote:
"I dread the tomorrows that will come. Life has become grey, melancholy, empty and a complete vacuum. My relationship with Victor is drifting apart although we are tremendously found of each other, we are alone together, we sit for hours in silence. I am hardly the happy person with rich, full life, radiating joy as I go. I am fast losing my interest in people and the desire to approach them. I am becoming bleaker and bleaker, less and less interested."
Complications in Amrita and Victor's lives arose due to people's preoccupation with World War Two. With not much happening in the world of art, her work was not getting any exposure. She summed up her frustrations by wishing: "How we wish that this infernal war were over".
Victor had not heard from his mother in Hungary for months and feared that she was not receiving his letters.
Painting a funeral
In January of 1941, their frustrations were temporarily put aside by a visit from their old friend Karl who spent three days with Amrita. He watched her paint non-stop for hours without being distracted. He also saw her amazing sculptures, and performing domestic chores which he thought she could never do. Amrita was back to being cheerful.
When Karl left, a deep sense of gloom descended upon Amrita and she suffered what she described as a 'nervous crisis'. Karl would never see Amrita again.
In a March 14th, 1941, letter to Indira she wrote: "I passed through a nervous crisis and am still far from being over it. Feeling impotent, dissatisfied, irritable and not even able to weep."
Amrita did very few paintings in 1941 in the last year of her life. Concerned about Amrita's mental state, Indira came to Saraya to comfort her. Amrita told her that she wanted to start a new painting: one of a funeral procession. Of course it will be a gay picture if I ever do paint it".
Indira's visit did not do much good as she had problems of her own. After staying briefly she returned home. In her letter to Indira, Amrita told her: "I have not started the funeral painting but would one day. I have not done a thing since you left."
Amrita never got to paint it but she did draw a sketch of it. She was beginning to hate 'the atmosphere of gloom and distress' that cast its dark shadow on her work.
The final move to Lahore
Once back in Saraya they settled within the ancestral Majithia household. Here Amrita learnt to make friends with female relatives and servants, an activity which made her acutely aware of women's traditional orientation and their social and psychological problems.
While they had long horse rides, indulged in organised tiger hunts on the backs of elephants, and enjoyed feudal extravagances, there was no stimulating company, no one with whom Amrita could hold an intelligent conversation, and no opportunity to expand ideas. She felt trapped, suffocated, an 'unutterable lassitude and vague chemeric fear' descended upon her as 1940 came to a close.
Victor and Amrita, Lake Balaton 1938-39 |
"Art is the only serious thing in the world. And the artist is the only person who is never serious."
—Oscar Wilde
The young couple travelled to Madras to see Mahabalipuram which Amrita described as 'the most haunting place in all of South India'.
Soon they were in Simla where Victor planned to set up his medical practice and let Amrita paint but they again moved to Saraya and stopped over in Delhi.
In a letter to her friend Karl, Amrita admitted she was 'depressed and discouraged by the lack of appreciation'. After sending four paintings to the annual exhibition of the Bombay Fine Arts Society, she became even more depressed when some of her best ones were rejected. Someone even offered to buy one painting for a paltry sum.
Finding herself again in 'better spirits and happier' despite the uncertainties, she began to paint and sculpt on commission.
In an effort to gain recognition as a painter, Amrita sent four paintings to Delhi for an exhibition which had been arranged by her friend Barada Ukil. Unfortunately none of her paintings won a prize, not even a mention. Despite that Amrita continued to paint and during the first half of 1940 she produced smaller paintings.
By August of 1940, she had found peace within and contentment in Saraya with Victor. In a letter to her parents she wrote: "We are so pleased and happy. I am producing good things. Victor has got a job, and not such a bad one either, far better than we hoped for, in fact, we are quite satisfied with our lot."
Survival of the dirtiest
"To survive it is often necessary to fight, and to fight you have to dirty yourself." —George OrwellLife for Amrita and Victor was a struggle. Victor's monthly salary of Rupees 160 was barely enough for them to make ends meet. Amrita's mother was providing Rupees 100 a month but that boost was not enough for the 'good life' that they wanted, namely, their own place and a car. Frustrated, they felt trapped.
In December of 1940, Amrita began feeling very depressed and discouraged. In a letter to Indira she wrote:
Umrao Singh (oblivious) |
"I dread the tomorrows that will come. Life has become grey, melancholy, empty and a complete vacuum. My relationship with Victor is drifting apart although we are tremendously found of each other, we are alone together, we sit for hours in silence. I am hardly the happy person with rich, full life, radiating joy as I go. I am fast losing my interest in people and the desire to approach them. I am becoming bleaker and bleaker, less and less interested."
Victor had not heard from his mother in Hungary for months and feared that she was not receiving his letters.
Painting a funeral
In January of 1941, their frustrations were temporarily put aside by a visit from their old friend Karl who spent three days with Amrita. He watched her paint non-stop for hours without being distracted. He also saw her amazing sculptures, and performing domestic chores which he thought she could never do. Amrita was back to being cheerful.
When Karl left, a deep sense of gloom descended upon Amrita and she suffered what she described as a 'nervous crisis'. Karl would never see Amrita again.
In a March 14th, 1941, letter to Indira she wrote: "I passed through a nervous crisis and am still far from being over it. Feeling impotent, dissatisfied, irritable and not even able to weep."
Amrita did very few paintings in 1941 in the last year of her life. Concerned about Amrita's mental state, Indira came to Saraya to comfort her. Amrita told her that she wanted to start a new painting: one of a funeral procession. Of course it will be a gay picture if I ever do paint it".
Amrita and Indira (dated 9.5.1931) |
Amrita never got to paint it but she did draw a sketch of it. She was beginning to hate 'the atmosphere of gloom and distress' that cast its dark shadow on her work.
The final move to Lahore
"Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive." —Josephine Hart
Overwhelmed by frustration and gloom, Victor and Amrita decided that their life needed a change by moving to Lahore. Alone, Victor went there to explore things.
In the summer of 1941, they both returned to Lahore to weigh the pros and cons of a move that would enable Victor to set up his medical practice. After a brief survey, Victor learned that many of the doctors in Lahore had been called into military service and this shortage increased the chances of establishing a profitable medical practice.
Amrita was surprised to find that despite the war, a lot was happening in Lahore's art world. She saw students, writers and artists who held progressive views, intellectuals who sympathised with the nationalist struggle, and in a charged atmosphere magazines and journals were being published.
Convinced that Lahore was ideal, they decided to move in September. Amrita's mood quickly changed and she became her 'happy go lucky' self again. Victor returned to Saraya but Amrita remained in Lahore for a few days.
Around the third week in September of 1940, Amrita and Victor arrived together in Lahore to look for accommodation. They liked the fashionable area called The Mall and put their bags down in flat number 23 of Sir Ganga Ram Mansions (commonly known as the Exchange Mansions).
Amrita, outwardly calm |
Tall ugly buildings did not exist in those days, and Amrita could have an unobstructed view of the Lahore High Court from her home. It was a two-story flat with a veranda overlooking the driveway and a small barsati (rooftop room). Victor's clinic was on the ground floor, the living rooms on the second floor, and the barsati became Amrita's studio. Their neighbourhood was composed of the elite and professionals.
The young couple decorated the place with articles gifted by Amrita's mother. They bought furniture, Amrita hung her paintings on the walls and Victor equipped his clinic with equipment that he had brought from Saraya.
The icing on the cake was their small Ford automobile. Life was finally beginning to make sense; it was starting to deliver.
* * * End of PART 2 * * *
©Tahir Gul Hasan, 2017
Coming out soon: "The Artistic Death of Amrita"
Further reading
Allama Iqbal: A Letter to The Times
Iqbal At Close Range
* * * End of PART 2 * * *
©Tahir Gul Hasan, 2017
Coming out soon: "The Artistic Death of Amrita"
Further reading
Allama Iqbal: A Letter to The Times
Iqbal At Close Range
Iqbal In Love With Emma Wegenast
The Artistic Youth Of Amrita Sher-Gil
The Dramatic Death Of Amrita Sher-Gil
DISCLAIMER
No one must misconstrue the information presented here about Amrita Sher-Gil and other persons mentioned as disinformation or insults. All the information was meticulously collected (after cross-checking) from numerous sources on the internet (without the use of proxy servers in Pakistan). If you feel something here needs to be amended, please email me the suggestions with believable references. Until then, whatever is written here shall be considered correct.
Acknowledgement
If I were to list all the references the old-fashioned away right here, this article would be twice its current size. The web links (URLs) have been included in the text. Just click on the words in blue colour and you will reach those other pages that contain either the text used (after laborious editing) or more information. I visited hundreds of web sites while researching for material on Amrita Sher-Gil. Omissions, if any, were unintentional. I thank those from whom obtaining permission to use some images was either impossible or who did not respond to my requests.
The Artistic Youth Of Amrita Sher-Gil
The Dramatic Death Of Amrita Sher-Gil
DISCLAIMER
No one must misconstrue the information presented here about Amrita Sher-Gil and other persons mentioned as disinformation or insults. All the information was meticulously collected (after cross-checking) from numerous sources on the internet (without the use of proxy servers in Pakistan). If you feel something here needs to be amended, please email me the suggestions with believable references. Until then, whatever is written here shall be considered correct.
Acknowledgement
If I were to list all the references the old-fashioned away right here, this article would be twice its current size. The web links (URLs) have been included in the text. Just click on the words in blue colour and you will reach those other pages that contain either the text used (after laborious editing) or more information. I visited hundreds of web sites while researching for material on Amrita Sher-Gil. Omissions, if any, were unintentional. I thank those from whom obtaining permission to use some images was either impossible or who did not respond to my requests.