#london to Calcutta

[familythings]

What is the Longest Regular Bus Route in the World?

Between 1957 and 1976, an extraordinary bus service operated by Albert Tours offered adventurous travelers an unparalleled journey from London to Calcutta (now Kolkata), India. This remarkable service spanned 32,000 kilometers, making it the longest regular bus route in the world. The journey lasted 50 days for a round trip, with the fare set at an incredibly modest £145, inclusive of food and…

[thepastisalreadywritten]

"London (England) - Calcutta (India) - London (England)"

This bus service from London to Calcutta (Kolkata) is considered to have been the longest bus route in the world.

The service, which was started in 1957 and operated by Albert Travel, was routed to India continuing after the UK, to Belgium, through Europe via (then) Yugoslavia, Türkiye, Iran, Afghanistan, and West Pakistan.

After entering India, it eventually reached Calcutta via New Delhi, Agra, Allahabad (Prayagraj) and Banaras (Varanasi).

This route became known as the 'Hippie Route.'

It took about 50 days for the bus to reach Calcutta from London.

The voyage was 32,669 km long and was in service until 1976.

By then, the cost of the trip was £145, including food, travel and accommodation.

The bus was equipped with reading facilities, separate sleeping bunks for everyone, and fan-operated heaters.

There was a kitchen with all equipment and amenities.

There was a forward observation lounge on the upper deck of the later version of the bus.

The bus provided radio and music system for parties. It had time to spend at major tourist destinations along the way, including Banaras and the Taj Mahal on the banks of the Ganges.

Shopping breaks were organized in Salzburg, Vienna, Istanbul, Kabul and Tehran.

[totallyhussein-blog]

The lasting legacies of Iraqi Jewish traditions

The Baghdadi Jewish community in India may only be around 50 strong today, as documented by the Jewish Women’s Archive, but the larger diaspora is holding on to their history, as Barry Rodgers describes in The Hindu.

“My community [also called Mizrahi Jews, as they are from the Middle East and North Africa] embodies many diverse identities and has made significant contributions within India, despite often being overlooked in discussions,” says Ciara Shalome, 25, a London-based content creator.

She and a few others in the U.K. are doing their bit to chronicle their culture, especially through food.

Shalome has been documenting the lived history of the community — most of whom called Bombay and Calcutta home — through her TikTok channel Chaidentity (and more recently, on Instagram).

When she first started sharing content in 2022, she had noticed a recurring theme: an abundance of material related to Jewish culture, but with a focus on Ashkenazi Jews.

“I couldn’t help but see the glaring absence of representation for Mizrahi Jews. This realisation struck me particularly when I came across a video by an Ashkenazi content creator, where various individuals were sharing their favourite dishes.

As I awaited the inclusion of voices from the Mizrahi, I was met with absence.” So, she took up the challenge to bridge the divide.

[originalharmonysalad]

Road Trip to Afghanistan: Snapshots From the Lost Hippie Trail

[tenth-sentence]

Instead of having them sell their cargoes as they arrived from London, Calcutta and Canton, "eighteen of the leading and most opulent of the mercantile body" banded together to run the auctions themselves.

"Killing for Country: A Family History" - David Marr

[srilanka1234]

https://www.srilankaweekly.co.uk/work-in-curry-house-best-training-rishi-sunak/

In a video message to the annual Curry Awards in London celebrating South Asian cuisine across the UK – dubbed the “Curry Oscars” – from 10 Downing Street, the British Indian leader referenced his time at Kuti’s Brasserie in Southampton – the coastal England city where he grew up – had given him an appreciation of business.

[bosbas]

Chapter 1: if a man talks shit then I owe him nothing

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy-ish!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, some strong language, a small part of the dialogue is in French (with translations provided), period-typical views on women, alluding to sex, mentions of alcohol

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: French is not my first language so IM SORRY if the dialogue is a bit weird. I speak some French and obvi double checked to make sure it made sense but please lmk if i made a mistake 

April 14, 1816 – Dearest Gentle Readers,

A new season is upon us, and so my work begins anew. Firstly, we can reacquaint ourselves with the familiar faces we expect to see this season. It has been two years since Viscount Anthony Bridgerton married, and dowager Viscountess Bridgerton is surely itching to secure a match for more of her children. Miss Eloise Bridgerton, now in her second year of being out, remains unmarried. And, of course, one cannot help but wonder whether the charming Mr. Colin Bridgerton will return from his travels in time for the season. Though Benedict Bridgerton has been absent from the public eye as of late, he could also be considered an eligible bachelor. Shall we see any of them marry this season? This author remains skeptical, though, with the Bridgertons, one must always expect the unexpected.

There are, however, plenty of new faces. Chief among them are the two youngest Montclair siblings. The Montclairs resided in London for the debut of Lady Charlotte Montclair, now the Duchess of Somerset, before vanishing from England’s social scene. Until now, of course. Though Lord Louis Montclair is only two and twenty and may still be considered green for the marriage mart, all eyes will surely be on Lady Y/N Montclair as she steps into the spotlight and searches for an impressively titled gentleman. Though the Montclairs have graced the streets of Calcutta, Rome, Geneva, and Madrid, among other illustrious locales, one can only hope that the grandeur of London lives up to their expectations.

You let out a resigned sigh of frustration, scolding yourself for your tardiness as you hurried down the stairs. It was half an hour past when you were supposed to be in the breakfast room, and your mother was bound to be at least a little displeased with you. It was the first time your entire family was in the same place since your older brother Jacques got married in September. Despite being a big family, six siblings in total, four of whom were married, it was unusual that you had gone so long without seeing them all in one place.

Moving from country to country every few years for much of your upbringing had made your siblings a very tight-knit bunch. So, as you neared the breakfast room, which was full of laughter and lively conversation, you couldn't shake the twinge of guilt for your late arrival.

But you couldn’t help it! Not this time, at least. It had been your first night in London since your sister Charlotte’s season eight years ago, and you had stayed up until the early hours of the morning stargazing in your garden. There was a secluded patch of grass between the summer pavilion and the tulips, a secret spot hidden from prying eyes, where you could spend hours looking at the sky in peaceful solitude. Last time you were in London, you had snuck out of your bedroom every night to stare at the stars, and you had been pleased to find that the spot remained undiscovered.

You had always been comforted by the fact that the cosmos would remain the same even if your home did not. The night sky had become somewhat of a companion during your childhood years, and you were interested to see what part of it you were privy to in London at this time of year. Perhaps a scolding and a lecture from your mother were not such a high price to pay for the opportunity to reacquaint yourself with the stars, you reasoned.

You slithered into the breakfast room quietly, hoping to draw as little attention to yourself as possible, but you had no such luck. Your brother closest to you in age, Louis, was sitting nearest to the door and noticed your late entrance immediately.

Taking advantage of every opportunity to make your life just a little harder, he goaded, “T'es très en retard, demoiselle. Ce n'est pas convenable pour une fille en quête d'un mari!” (You’re very late, young lady. This is not suitable for a girl looking for a husband!)

Under any other circumstances, you might have laughed at his impression of your mother, but you were quite sleep-deprived and in no mood to have your brother lecture you. You sighed in frustration, hissing, “Louis, ferme ta gue-” (Louis, shut you mou-)

“English, please!” interrupted your father, not even looking up from his newspaper as he sat at the head of the table.

You were relieved he hadn’t commented on your colorful language, but his curt reprimand reminded you that it was in poor taste to speak a language not everyone could understand. Growing up, your family had primarily spoken French, but with none of your siblings having married a francophone, you were now only allowed to speak in French when everyone present could speak it, too. It was a rule enforced particularly during big family gatherings such as this one. Despite your fluency in five languages, your parents insisted on English, the only common language among all twelve family members.

“Sorry,” you muttered, not quite sure that your father had even heard. You slid into your seat between Louis and your brother Jacques’ wife, Chiara. Still annoyed with Louis, you turned to the newest addition to the Montclair family and smiled at her warmly.

“Ciao, Y/N,” she greeted, smiling back and kissing you on the cheek.

“Ciao, Chiara, è bello rivederti,” you responded (Hi Chiara, it’s nice to see you again). You were tempted to keep speaking to her in Italian–you liked the practice, after all–but feared another scolding from your father. So, you settled for, “I trust your trip back home was good?”

“Oh, it was lovely. Florence always is at this time of year. You should come back to visit sometime! Beatrice misses you terribly,” she exclaimed.

Beatrice was Chiara’s younger sister, whom you had become dear friends with while living in Tuscany. You had remained in Tuscany for nearly four years, longer than you usually stayed in one place, and though you were itching to leave and see more of the world by the end of your time in Florence, you were thankful you had met Beatrice. Both of you were delighted when you realized your brother was marrying her sister, ensuring you would remain close even when you moved away.

You sighed. “I miss her, too. We correspond quite regularly, but it’s simply not the same. I assume it will be worse now that I am in England and even farther from her,” you lamented.

After Jacques and Chiara’s wedding, your parents, Louis, and you returned home to Amboise for a few months. Beatrice had visited for the holidays along with Chiara and Jacques, but you knew she was unlikely to come to England when she was busy with her season back home.

Chiara smiled sympathetically. “Well, Jacques and I are only staying for a few weeks before returning to Tuscany. If you get bored here in London, you are always welcome to visit,” she comforted.

It was a lovely thought, but you doubted your parents would allow you to leave England until you were married. Your parents’ marriage had most certainly not been a love match, and though they did grow to love each other eventually, they didn’t particularly care whether you loved the man you married. To them, marriage was an economic endeavor rather than a romantic one. You had never minded much, having accepted your fate early in life as you watched your siblings marry strategically.

Nevertheless, you had grown rather nervous about your season after watching the outcome of Charlotte’s. In your parents’ eyes, her season was a complete success as she married a Duke a few short months after her debut. But you knew better. Not all of your siblings had enjoyed moving around so much, but you, Louis, and Charlotte were the most enthusiastic. Having married the Duke of Somerset, Charlotte had become Duchess, and her duties tied her to England. After such an international childhood, you knew Charlotte was dreadfully bored of staying in England year after year.

You knew there were much worse marriages to be in, but you still wanted to avoid being permanently tied to England, of all places. You were only twenty years old, after all, and you still had so much of the world to see.

---

“By the way,” Violet said, strategically avoiding the topic until she was about to leave the sitting room. “Both of you are attending the Danbury ball tomorrow night.”

The expected chorus of complaints filled her ears, and she shook her head in amusement at her children’s petulance. One would think she was trying to force them to walk halfway across the world!

Violet sighed and said firmly, “I understand that neither of you is particularly enthusiastic, but we are not so rude as to miss the first ball of the season. And at Lady Danbury’s home, at that! Surely the retribution you would receive from her is enough to make you want to go.”

“Well, Colin’s coming home from Greece tomorrow and I hardly think he’ll be in attendance, so I don’t see why we should be,” argued Eloise, earning an enthusiastic nod from Benedict.

“You make the mistake of thinking that I have not already informed Colin he will be in attendance. None of you have the option to stay home, I’m afraid.”

And with that, she left her grumbling children behind in favor of a quiet turn around the garden.

---

Colin arrived at Number 5 Bruton Street feeling rather unkempt. His journey from Greece had been particularly tumultuous, and he was ready to change clothes and sleep for the next seventeen hours.

“Colin! I’m so glad you’re home,” exclaimed Violet upon seeing him. For all her nagging, he was quite fond of his mother and found that he had missed her while he had been away. Seeing tears forming in her eyes, Colin wrapped Violet up in a tight hug, hoping to avoid feeling worse about being away for so long.

“He’s home!” shouted Gregory, running up to greet him. The rest of his siblings followed suit, and Colin basked in the excitement of his homecoming.

To the rest of the ton, Colin was the most well-liked Bridgerton due to his easygoing nature and cheerful demeanor, and because he was rather good-looking as well, he hoped. However, it was nice to know that his family still cared for him despite his prolonged absences.

“The Danbury ball is in a few hours, so make sure to be ready on time,” his mother reminded him once she had gathered herself.

He groaned, having forgotten he had promised his mother he would attend. He sighed as he prepared for an evening of excruciating conversation as he politely listened to ambitious mamas name every single positive attribute their daughters possessed in the hopes of impressing him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, but rather that he remained uninterested in marriage, finding his travels a much more exciting prospect. But he had a reputation to maintain, so he would be as courteous as ever to everyone he met and perhaps even dance with a few of them.

A few hours later, the Bridgertons were, quite impatiently, one could say, waiting for Benedict to finish getting ready so they could leave for the Danbury Ball.

“Excited for your third season?” Colin directed his question at Eloise. He knew the answer, of course, but he was growing bored of waiting for Benedict and thought that this would be the perfect distraction.

“Shut up.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone you absolutely adore, El. Don’t close yourself off to the possibilities,” preached Colin, annoying Eloise further.

“What about you, Colin? Five and twenty and still unmarried, that’s a bit ghastly don’t you think?” she shot back.

Of course, it wasn't unheard of to be unmarried at his age, but Colin panicked regardless, knowing his mother would surely love to join the conversation now that his marriage prospects were a talking point. But Benedict saved him by walking down the stairs at that moment.

“Finally! Now can we go, please?” exclaimed Eloise.

“I’m surprised, Eloise. I thought you didn’t want to go to this ball,” teased Benedict, but she only grumbled in return as they headed toward their carriage.

The carriage rides were usually the worst part of going to a ball. Violet Bridgerton, efficient as ever, would inform each of her children of the possible prospects that would be in attendance that night, impossibly elongating the journey and making the Bridgertons less and less pleased about being forced to go. They weren't always forced, of course, but the carriage rides certainly made it seem that way.

“The Montclairs will be in London for the season, I heard. Lady Y/N Montclair will be making her debut, which will surely interest you two,” said Violet, nodding at the men in the carriage. “And for you, Eloise, her older brother Lord Louis Montclair is perhaps too young to get married, but it wouldn’t hurt to speak with him and practice your French.”

Violet droned on for the rest of the ride, and the Bridgerton siblings could barely get out of the carriage fast enough when it arrived at Danbury House. Little did they know that they had played right into Violet’s plan. She wanted to enjoy the evening and visit with her friends, and hopefully, her overly long analysis of the key figures at today’s ball would keep her children away from her enough for her to do so.

Inside the ballroom, you were speaking with a perfectly nice but quite boring gentleman. You couldn’t quite remember his name, having talked to at least a dozen men practically identical to him already. You barely registered his request for a dance, and you only realized you had accepted when you found yourself in the middle of the dance floor. Luckily, the dance went by fairly quickly and you were able to sprinkle in interested hums and “oh really?” at the appropriate times. All in all, it was not a terrible experience, if only you could remember his name.

He returned you to your mother and bowed in parting, kissing your hand and promising to call on you the next day.

“Who was that?” you muttered once he had left.

“Y/N,” she scolded, but could barely contain her laughter. “I can’t believe you danced with a man you don’t even know the name of!”

You shrugged, not particularly interested in learning who he was anymore.

“Is there anyone else you want me to meet?” you asked her, hoping she would say no and you would be free to find Louis and talk to someone familiar at last.

But your mother was distracted from answering as she saw two tall men crossing the ballroom. She squeezed your arm and nodded in their direction, careful to be discreet.

“Those are the Bridgertons. Their oldest brother, the Viscount, is already married, but it is of no consequence. Perhaps the second and third sons might not be fit to be your husband, but you should still introduce yourself and make a good impression should you encounter them.”

You nodded, disinterested. You were too busy looking around the room, realizing that there was still a myriad of gentlemen left to speak with. It seemed that there were too many eligible bachelors if that was even possible. You had thought there would be five men that your mother would have approved of, at most, and you could make your pick between them. But it seemed London was a particularly popular place for titled gentlemen to search for a wife, and you were growing uneasy.

Trying not to think about the long evening ahead of you, you tuned back into what your mother was saying. “Oh! I don’t quite know where Colin Bridgerton has gone off to now, but Benedict is over by the lemonade if you can see him. I believe that is his sister, Eloise. They all look identical, don’t they? The same brown h-”

“Pardon me,” you interrupted as panic rose in your chest. You were in desperate need of a respite, and could hardly handle another minute listening to her speak about more men she needed you to meet. “I think I see an old friend of mine, and I must say hello,” you lied.

Your mother raised her eyebrows in surprise, shocked that you remembered people from eight years ago, but let you go regardless. Impatiently, you waited until someone else engaged her in conversation and quietly slipped out into the hallway. Stepping out of a ball on your own like this was forbidden, and your father would surely have your head if he found out you had risked being found unchaperoned and away from the ball, but you needed to get away for just a moment to gather yourself.

Lady Danbury’s home was quite beautiful, you found, and you were enjoying looking at the art on her walls as you roamed the halls. You were careful not to stray too far, not knowing your way around and recognizing that you only had a short time before someone was bound to notice your absence.

Suddenly, your senses heightened as you heard two men’s voices far closer than you would have liked. Panicking, you jumped around a corner and prayed that no one would find you, absolutely not ready to be forced to marry a man only one ball into your debut. You willed your heart to stop beating so loudly lest you get caught and tried to discern what the men were saying, unable to quell your curiosity despite the precarious position you found yourself in.

“And, if she's the right sort of woman, you won’t even have to do anything, she'll just get on top and do all the work. Though I suppose it all depends on her dowry. The larger the dowry the more I’m willing to overlook,” slurred one of them. “And you, Colin? Do any ladies catch your eye? I’m sure you could get away with anything with any of these girls, though I suggest picking one that’s got good hips.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the same time as you heard 'Colin' say, “Why don’t we continue this conversation outside, Nigel?”

Their footsteps echoed down the hall and you risked a glance at them, still horrified but wanting to know who they were anyway. You were unsurprised to find Nigel walking toward the garden, having met Mr. Nigel Berbrooke earlier in the evening and finding him quite unpleasant. However, you were shocked to find who you assumed to be Colin Bridgerton walking quite close to Mr. Berbrooke. Hadn’t your mother said the Bridgertons were people of good standing? Surely someone would have noticed that the third son was a complete ass. But perhaps he was the odd one out, and the rest of his family was lovely. Or perhaps Englishmen were simply unpleasant as a whole. Whatever the reason for his horrible comments, you decided you despised Colin Bridgerton and dreaded the day you would have to speak with him.

“Quel salaud,” you muttered angrily under your breath after you heard Mr. Bridgerton close the door to the outdoor patio (What a bastard). Pacing up and down the hallway, you were too enraged by what you heard to return to the ballroom.

The quality of men in England seemed to be quite lacking, and suddenly you wished you could follow in your sister Isabelle’s footsteps and go to Spain to find a titled gentleman there. Isabelle had seemed quite excited about all her suitors before eventually settling on Carlos, who practically worshipped the ground she walked on. Unfortunately, it seemed that you were not destined for such a husband, you thought glumly.

But you supposed you didn't really have a choice. You let out a weary sigh and leaned heavily against the wall, shaking your head as you accepted the reality of your situation. With an angry humph and one last look to make sure no one was around, you quietly slipped back into the ballroom and searched for your mother, who would surely be looking for you now. As you expected, she spotted you almost instantly, and she immediately drew you into conversation with a gentleman you believed to be an Earl.

---

Colin stood outside the door to the ballroom, flexing his fingers to make sure there was still feeling there. Confirming the health of his right hand, he gently opened the ballroom door with his left and stepped inside, looking around for Benedict. Spotting him a few feet away, Colin quickly made his way over hoping to avoid any particularly insistent mamas at this precise moment.

“You look quite relaxed,” commented Benedict, earning a glare from Colin.

“Berbrooke,” Colin explained flatly. “How that man manages to get so drunk so quickly I will never know.”

But suddenly his attention was drawn elsewhere. Time seemed to slow down as a stunning lady he had never seen before crossed the ballroom. He was paralyzed, stuck to his spot on the ground as he stared after you. The only thing he could hear was his heart beating loudly in his ears, and though Colin wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, he imagined it might have felt something like this if he did. Without a second thought, he knew he had to know you. It was almost instinctual.

Colin tugged on Benedict’s sleeve, his eyes still glued to your form as you laughed politely at whoever you were speaking with. “Who is that over there? Have you spoken with her?”

“I’m sure I have no idea,” responded Benedict. “You could always ask Mother.”

“I might do just that, actually,” hummed Colin, deep in thought.

Benedict choked back a laugh, looking over at his younger brother. “Are you being serious?”

Tearing his eyes away from you for a moment, Colin turned to his brother, confused. “Well, yes. If anyone knows who she is, it’ll be her, no?”

Realizing that Colin was, in fact, quite serious, Benedict’s expression sobered. “You are aware if you even hint at the fact that you might be interested in her, Mother will surely come up with at least a dozen plans to marry you off?”

“I don’t think that would be the worst thing in the world,” Colin reasoned, eyes searching for you in the crowd again. Five minutes ago, he would’ve thought it silly, how captivated he was by you. But five minutes ago, he had not yet seen you.

Just as he was about to seek out his mother to ask about you, Lady Danbury walked up to the pair of Bridgertons and poked Colin's foot with her cane. Usually, her presence would have instilled a healthy dose of fear in him, but tonight all he really wanted was to know you, and he supposed Lady Danbury was just as knowledgeable as Violet Bridgerton about the goings on of the ton.

“What are you doing staring at Lady Montclair?” she demanded.

“Lady Montclair? Is that her name?” Then, vaguely remembering what his mother had said on the carriage ride to the ball, he added, “The one from France?”

Lady Danbury hummed, suspicious of Colin’s enthusiasm. “Yes. Lady Y/N Montclair. Speaking with her brother Lord Louis Montclair. Are you interested?”

“I think I am, yes,” he sighed.

“I do believe she has space left on her dance card,” prompted Lady Danbury, doing very little to hide the fact that she was nudging Colin in your direction.

Once Colin had taken off, Benedict turned to her, not distracted enough to forget decorum as his brother had. “This is a wonderful ball, Lady Danbury. My deepest gratitude to you for inviting us, as always.”

But she only waved his thanks away. “Shush, boy. I’m trying to pay attention to Colin willingly asking a lady to dance for the first time.”

Soft music floated through the ballroom as you laughed quietly with Louis, who seemed to be having a wonderful time terrorizing your mother and refusing to dance with any ladies she introduced to him. The gentle hum of the room was interrupted by the sound of footsteps beside you, and with a polite smile on your face, you turned to greet whoever had approached. Realizing you were face to face with Mr. Colin Bridgerton, your expression immediately turned stony.

Bowing with just the right degree of formality, Colin introduced himself, his charm seemingly effortless. He certainly played the part of a perfect gentleman; you could give him that. But you couldn’t forget his conversation with Mr. Berbrooke, the distasteful words replaying in your mind over and over.

Then, extending his hand to you and tilting his head slightly toward the dance floor, a soft smile on his lips, he asked, “Would you care to dance with me this evening, Lady Montclair?”

Looking at him squarely, you responded, your voice sickly sweet, “Why no, Mr. Bridgerton. I don’t believe I would.”

—

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Tag List: @marvelspogue @5sosmakesmelaugh5 @livingthatprovinciallife @maddiebaddie1 @willieoo @jessica-1120 @dreadity @h0eforwadewilson @ziarah @wordsgodeep

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[thesleeptokenarchive]

St. Pancras Old Church 2018

In 2018, Sleep Token ended the year with their inaugural headline ritual at the St. Pancras Old Church in London.

Their setlist was reported as follows:

When the Bough Breaks Thread the Needle Calcutta Jaws Jericho Hey Ya! (OutKast cover) Nazareth Fields of Elation Blood Sport The Way That You Were

Photographic evidence by DomosaurXX [X]

Imagery provided by Kapowitschris [imgur]

Additional photographic evidence by Jax Schulze [IG]

James Marshall recorded most of this evening's performance and this curator is grateful for that.

Additional photographic imagery by tjptours [IG]

[thebeautifulbook]

RIDING FOR LADIES by Mrs. Power O’Donoghue. (London/Calcutta/Bombay: Thacker, 1887) Illustrated by A Chantry Corbould.

source

[ltwilliammowett]

The wreck of the Josephine Willis

The Josephine Willis, a packet ship launched in 1854, undertook a voyage to New Zealand under the command of Captain Edward Canney. During the voyage, there was an attempted mutiny by the crew. Twelve crew members deserted in Auckland, while others were dismissed in Calcutta on the return voyage. However, the second voyage, which started on 1 February 1856, was interesting. With a crew of 44 and 66 passengers, the ship again travelled to New Zealand. The ship had various general cargoes on board, including a large quantity of utility ceramics destined for the emigrant market in New Zealand.

The sinking of the Josephine Willis (x)

The ship was first towed to Margate Sands by a steam tug before sailing on to the Downs. After reaching South Foreland, the Josephine Willis travelled down the English Channel and at 20:10 a light was sighted. It was believed to be the Dungeness lighthouse and the helm was put to starboard. However, the light belonged to an approaching steamer, the SS Mangerton, an iron-hulled screw steamer en route from Limerick to London. The Mangerton struck the Josephine Willis just forward of the main mast on the starboard side and is said to have cut the ship in half. Some of the crew and passengers were able to climb aboard the Mangerton, while others escaped in the ship's boats. However, it happened that the two ships involved did nothing to rescue the other passengers, which is why the captains responsible were later held responsible and sentenced for reckless behaviour. During the incident, however, the Josephine Willis later capsised and sank. Between 69 and 70 people lost their lives in the accident, including Captain Canney.

3D image of the 'Josephine Willis' wreck (x)

Dives were quickly undertaken to salvage the passengers' cargo and luggage. Amongst other things, a mahogany chest containing the ship's board and Captain Canney's personal belongings were recovered and handed over to his widow. Salvage work on the wreck continued until 1861.

Ceramics in situ (x)

The wreck was rediscovered by divers in approximately 2018. Diving investigation revealed that a large quantity of the ceramic cargo was still in situ. The ceramic assemblage is principally comprised of wares from three Staffordshire based potteries - Mexborough, Charles Meigh, and Davenport. Several of the ceramic types discovered are unknown in current museum collections, or have previously only been seen in the form of wasters.

Recovered ceramics (x)

Interpretation of geophysical data indicates that the full length of the vessel survives in situ, with a maximum length of 46m, and a maximum width of 10-11m, which is consistent with the known dimensions of the vessel. A potential vertical break in the hull is located approximately halfway along the wreck mound. This corresponds with the position which the Mangerton was reported to have collided with the Josephine Willis. It would appear that the wreck has broken it's back and the remaining structure lies in two halves.

Recovered toys and caramics (x)

[octuscle]

I met this man at a bar recently and he was absolutely gorgeous. He’s here shooting a movie but otherwise wasn’t into me at all. Could you possibly make me into an even bigger hotter more muscular movie star so that he’ll notice me and want to get together?

Well… You're not particularly good-looking or charismatic now… No wonder the first contact wasn't particularly successful. But what do you expect with your baggy sweatshirt and ill-fitting jeans?

After the nasty rebuff you received, you're sitting alone at the bar again, looking into your… Whiskey? When did you order a whiskey? You notice that two girls in the corner keep looking over at you, whispering, looking and giggling. One of them gets up and walks towards you. You straighten up, smile at her, she turns bright red, giggles and asks if she can take a selfie. She has an adorable Indian accent. And you reply in Hindi that it would be a pleasure and an honor. She takes the selfie, gives you a kiss on the cheek and runs to her friend, giggling. You finish your whiskey and wave the bartender over to pay. He replies that it would have been an honor to serve you and that the drink is on the house, of course. And a second one if you like. Your crush looks at you questioningly. You accept the second whiskey with thanks and toast the actor. He toasts back and frantically thinks about how he knows you.

It's getting warm in the bar. You unbutton two buttons on your shiny shirt. Like the trousers, which are made of a similar fabric, the shirt fits like it was painted on your body. The bar is getting fuller. Of course, many guests are whispering about your crush. But even more stare at you, want a selfie or ask for your autograph. Many of your fans are glowing-eyed and black-haired. Lots of Indians. Your crush asks you if you're an actor too. The Indian beauty who is taking a selfie with you, pretending to give you a kiss, almost collapses with laughter. She opens Instagram and shows your crush an Instagram account. Your Instagram account. 58 million followers! He turns pale. Very pale. Your skin turns a deep brown. You answer his question with a heavy Indian accent. Yes, you're an actor too. Bollywood is productive. And you are one of the biggest stars. Four to six films a year. And each one is a box office hit. Your fitness videos? Top sellers! Your own fashion collection? A must-have in Delhi, Mumbai and Calcutta. And now also in London and Berlin. You smile your hundred-million-rupee smile. It leaves him speechless. But the bulge in his pants speaks its own language…

For the two young men who ask for a selfie, you throw yourself back into the cool macho pose that half of India loves you for. You give the bartender a 100-pound note as a tip, put on your leather coat and tell your colleague "Savoy, Charlie Chaplin Suite. Ask for John Rolfe". You don't need to look around to know that he's rushing to pay and grab his jacket. Tonight will be a close exchange between Hollywood and Bollywood.

Pic found @maxx-magnum

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Saheb, Bibi aur Ghulaam

#3

Thank you to the lovelies @arshifiesta for celebrating IPK and setting up the great moodboards and AU.

1878, Calcutta

Eleven years old Arnav Mullick had not spoken a word in a year.

Some thought it was his parents' traumatizing deaths that led to his silence. But death was nothing new. The house had lost its middle son, his Mejda Akash at tender age of 19.

So no, death made no difference to Arnav. In fact he was happy when his philanderer of a father died of drinking as well. He deserved it. Not once had he seen his father home at night.

Arobindo Mullick would often scoff when stopped, that if any man of this house had ever spent a night in his own house?

So then some speculated that Arnav's behavioral issues had gotten worse, hence why he stopped speaking for a year.

If his darling mother was alive, she would've wrestled with anyone who thought such against her Arnob. Shyam, Arnav's Borda (boro-dada = older-brother) would perhaps be the only one to chuckle and agree with the society. Arnav was tempestuous as a child.

But quiet? Never quite.

The society would never understand that it was Akash's falling for a Baiji (courtesan) at the age of seventeen, his frequent visits leading his early introduction to alcohol despite their mother's best to protect them for it that hurt Arnav the most.

This was when Arnav swore off love.

That his otherwise pious brother was gullible to follow his father's footsteps to a kotha - where Arobindo Mullick spent all his nights.

It was his mother's haunted face and tears that left Arnav speechless. Or rather Arobindo's reply to her request to stay at home.

Has any Mullick ever spent a night in their own home?

This was when Arnav swore off marriage.

Or that despite Raja Rammohan Roy having abolished Sati-pratha a good sixty years ago, Arnav's mother was dragged to her undeserving husband's pyre by her conservative in-laws to follow patni dharam.

This was when Arnav swore off religion.

But if maa was alive, what life would she have had? Arnav saw how his uncle, Kaku, eyed her. And Arnav had seen that in the months prior to his mother's death, how she was shaved, dressed in white and forced into a strictly ritualistic dreary life.

His mother, whose hair spilled like the Ganges from Himalaya, had a beauty who could rival the Goddess, lived a life none deserved simply out of rituals and religion.

Thus when Shyam gave their mother mukh-agni, Arnav found his devotion die in his mother's pyre. And when his only hope, Borda (Shyam) set sail to London abandoning him, his words died as well.

-- -- --

1880, Calcutta

Arnav had been wrong about Borda. He returned as a Barrister from London, swiftly kicking out Kaku (father's younger brother) by bringing up property possession rights and threatened the rest of the Mullicks with incarceration for having forced their mother to die.

Thirteen years old Arnav did not know what to do when the brother he thought so wrongly about did the most just thing. It was then he decided that he too would run away to London when he came of age.

But the other thing he couldn't figure out was what to do with Boudi (bhabhi; sister in law). Their grandmother had fixed Borda (Shyam's) alliance with a member of the Tagore family.

Barely two years older than him, fifteen years old Anjali Devi was to manage the household of a twenty five years of Shyam Mullick. How could Arnav accept her as the lady of the house when the post truly belonged to Maa and only her.

But Arnav realized no rebellion was needed. Boudi arrived with the biggest reverence to their mother, along with the grief of losing her own. She chatted constantly with Arnav, not questioning his silence at all - Borda had gotten fed up after a few tries.

And over the years Arnav realized he had a sibling more in Boudi than in Borda.

Perhaps, perhaps maa's essence found its way into Anjali Boudi. It would explain why Arnav's first words were celebrated by Anjali as if it was her first child who had uttered their first words.

A child she was unable to give through all of her married life.

And perhaps his family was cursed against joy for the moment Arnav saw his mother in Anjali, he saw his father in Shyam.

The easy money he made as a barrister faded quicker given his lavish expenditure in trying to out-host the British and the Indian royalties. He belittled Anjali's lineage as much as he could and tried to prove that he was a bigger industrialist than the Tagores.

Lawyer he was, businessman he wasn't.

And thus at age eighteen Arnav had to run to London, no longer chasing any dream, but at least attempting to make the fortune his brother boasted of having.

-- -- --

1893, London

London was far more accommodating than India would ever be. This was what Arnav believed until, of course, an intellectual sparring with Boudi's cousin - Rabindranath - would get him thinking about perspectives.

To think of it, majority of India's existing regressive laws were nothing but British Victorian laws.

Then who was regressive?

It had been a lazy afternoon where Arnav was entertaining his thoughts, alone, as usual when a telegraph changed his life.

URGENT STOP SHYAM DA MARRYING AGAIN STOP

Arnav tossed the telegraph aside, grabbed his documents and hailed the first ship - premier class - to India.

He only had two goals.

Stop Shyam Mullick from marrying and ruin everybody who stood as an obstacle to Bo- Didi's happiness.

-- -- --

A/N: Yes, babua is here and so is his very very painful history! Lemme know what you all think :)

Tagging @shiyaravi @maansiloves @featheredclover @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @msbhagirathi @phuljari @hand-picked-star @barshifan (updating it slowly and steadily)

[bongboyblog]

A walk through Bengal's architecture

Bengali architecture has a long and rich history, fusing indigenous elements from the Indian subcontinent with influences from other areas of the world. Present-day Bengal architecture includes the nation of Bangladesh as well as the Indian states of West Bengal, Tripura, and Assam's Barak Valley. West Bengal’s architecture is an amalgamation of ancient urban architecture, religious architecture, rural vernacular architecture, colonial townhouses and country houses, and modern urban styles. Bengal architecture is the architecture of Wind, Water, and Clay. The Pala Empire (750–1120), which was founded in Bengal and was the final Buddhist imperial force on the Indian subcontinent, saw the apex of ancient Bengali architecture. The majority of donations went to Buddhist stupas, temples, and viharas. Southeast Asian and Tibetan architecture was influenced by Pala architecture. The Grand Vihara of Somapura, which is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was the most well-known structure erected by the Pala rulers.

The Grand Vihara of Somapura

According to historians, the builders of Angkor Wat in Cambodia may have taken inspiration from Somapura. Bengal architecture became known for its use of terracotta due to the scarcity of stone in the area. Clay from the Bengal Delta was used to make bricks.

The temple architecture has distinct features like the rich wall decoration, often known as the terracotta temples, which was one of the remarkable elements of Bengali temple architecture. The double-roofed architecture of thatched huts was replicated by Bengali temples. Square platforms were used to construct the temples. Burnt brick panels with figures in geometric patterns or substantial sculptural compositions served as the temples' adornment.

Dochala style

These served as models for many temples that were built in undivided Bengal. Construction materials used in ancient times included wood and bamboo. Bengal has alluvial soil, so there isn't a lot of stone there. The bricks that were utilized to build the architectural components were made from stone, wood, black salt, and granite. Bengal has two different types of temples: the Rekha type, which is smooth or ridged curvilinear, and the Bhadra form, which has horizontal tiers that gradually get smaller and is made up of the amalaka sila. Mughal architecture, including forts, havelis, gardens, caravanserais, hammams, and fountains, spread throughout the area during the Mughal era in Bengal. Mosques built by the Mughals in Bengal also took on a distinctive regional look. The two major centers of Mughal architecture were Dhaka and Murshidabad. The do-chala roof custom from North India was imitated by the Mughals.

Jorasako thakurbari

The Rasmancha is a heritage building located at Bishnupur, Bankura district, West Bengal.

Influence of the world on Bengal architecture: Although the Indo-Saracenic architectural style predominated in the area, Neo-Classical buildings from Europe were also present, particularly in or close to trading centers. While the majority of country estates had a stately country house, Calcutta, Dacca, Panam, and Chittagong all had extensive 19th and early 20th-century urban architecture that was equivalent to that of London, Sydney, or other British Empire towns. Calcutta experienced the onset of art deco in the 1930s. Indo-Saracenic architecture can be seen in Ahsan Manzil and Curzon Hall in Dhaka, Chittagong Court Building in Chittagong, and Hazarduari Palace in Murshidabad.

Hazarduari Palace in Murshidabad

The Victoria Memorial in Kolkata, designed by Vincent Esch also has Indo-Saracenic features, possibly inspired by the Taj Mahal. Additionally, Kolkata's bungalows, which are being demolished to make way for high-rise structures, have elements of art deco. The 1950s in Chittagong saw a continuation of Art Deco influences. The Bengali modernist movement, spearheaded by Muzharul Islam, was centered in East Pakistan. In the 1960s, many well-known international architects, such as Louis Kahn, Richard Neutra, Stanley Tigerman, Paul Rudolph, Robert Boughey, and Konstantinos Doxiadis, worked in the area.

The Jatiyo Sangshad Bhaban

This iconic piece of contemporary Bangladeshi architecture, was created by Louis Kahn. Midsized skyscrapers dominate the cityscapes of contemporary Bengali cities, which are frequently referred to as "concrete jungles." With well-known architects like Rafiq Azam, architecture services play a key role in the urban economies of the area. Overall Bengal architecture was influenced by various contemporaries of their time and continues to evolve.

Gothic architectural style seen in St. Paul's Cathedral in Kolkata.

Zamindar era buildings in ruin.

Belur Math in Howrah

[whencyclopedia]

Indigo Revolt

The Indigo Revolt (aka Indigo Riots or Blue Mutiny) of 1859-60 in Bengal, India, involved indigo growers going on strike in protest at working conditions and pay. The subsequent violence was aimed at exploitative European plantation owners, but the cause was, during and after, taken up by anti-colonial Indian liberals as an example of the necessity for independence.

The Indigo Trade

India was known for its cotton textiles through the Middle Ages, and by the mid-16th century Gujarat in northwest India was major a source of indigo, the deep blue-violet dye used to colour cotton and other materials. Indigo was in high demand by the European trading companies, including the British East India Company (EIC) which made large profits from its export. The EIC used well the long-standing expertise of Indian indigo growers and dyers, particularly in centres such as Sarkhej in Gujarat and Bayana in neighbouring Rajasthan, both in northeast India.

The making of indigo dye was a long and labour-intensive process. The plant cuttings were harvested once a year in June or July before the onset of the rainy season. These were then taken to a factory by cart where they were emptied into large vats to steep in water. The dyed water and mash was then boiled as this brought out a richer colour in the indigo grains, which then had to be strained out. The grains were next pressed into dried cakes, which were in turn pressed into barrels or, alternatively, the mass was cut into cubes and packed into chests ready for transportation. Most indigo was shipped to Calcutta (Kolkata) for sale to merchants who then organised shipment to England or the Americas where it was used to colour textiles. From the late 18th century, Bengal became the major centre for indigo production, accounting for 67% of London's total imports of the dye in 1796 (around 2 million kilograms) and then rising further into the 19th century.

The indigo industry was a volatile one. Too much or too little rain greatly affected the quantity and quality of the dye produced each year, and in boom years, overproduction brought a crash in the price. Still, for the long-term investor, indigo could be a very lucrative industry indeed. Unfortunately, the financial speculation that resulted in such a crop with potential for large gains was another source of instability. Finally, the location of many indigo plantations made them prone to flooding, which not only damaged the crop but often swept away the factory facilities.

Continue reading...

[metamatar]

some additional thoughts on the bharat/india thing apart from its hindu upper caste scriptural origins and its deployment by hindutva, there has always been the rhetorical move of using bharat to denote the underclass and india to denote the elite amongst politicians. even on the left sometimes.

from Reinventing Revolution by Gail Omvedt

In the process Sharad Joshi began putting forward his theory that the primary contradiction in the country was between “Bharat” (primarily the villages but also including the unorganized urban sector, “refugees from Bharat in the cities”) and India (the Westernized industrial-bureaucratic elite, inheritors of colonial exploitation). The issue was one of exploitation, in which surplus was being extracted from the peasantry via the market mechanism and unequal exchange. The key to fighting this exploitation was the demand for higher prices for their crops, that is, “remunerative prices.”

As he told journalist Olga Tellis in a 1980 interview: Before independence it was the British government which took their raw materials for a song, processed the raw materials in London and Manchester, and then sold the finished product at enormous profit. Today, Pune, Calcutta and Bombay are the London and Manchester. And our current rulers have replaced the British in grabbing the wealth of the country. I do not believe in sophisticated terms like “class struggle.” You may call this whatever you like. But I call this the struggle between Bharat and India, the fight for liberation by Bharat from India.

[samissobsessed]

Kali Call Of Darkness THEORY?

❗❗MAJOR SPOILER ALERT FOR THOSE WHO ARE PLAYING FOR THE FIRST TIME:❗❗

In S1E7, we have a conversation with Sana, where she says the following:

"For helping a lost sheep."

"Muktakeshi will punish me for disobeying..."

With these lines, we can deduce, that the Chauhans (especially Priyanka) have strictly instructed her not to disclose a single information about the city and the religion, and especially, The Dozen.

So as per I think, Amrit worked to get Amala from London to Kolkata, and the entire murder of particularly Hayes was a stage play. They were already sacrificing humans, so Amrit proposed to sacrifice Hayes, to attract attention of the British govt. And therefore pull strings to get Gabriel vouch for Amala, despite her being inexperienced asf. We get to know this only in Killian's route though.

Amrit saw how Calcutta was basically 'without order' and all the stuff and wanted the Basus to be back. He arranged for Amala to stay at a former Banerjee's (one of the Dozen) household (We know that Priyanka was a Banerjee before her marriage and after marriage she became a Chauhan), so that Amala could become closer to the culture and way of life, as well as gather information. Devdas didn't know shit until Amala came, but Vimal got to know everything, and therefore warned Priyanka about Amala and the return of the Basus.

He made a deal with Priyanka, that if she keeps an eye on Amala, without disclosing information about their family and the Dozen, and reporting her activities to Vimal, he may will help her conceive. He knew the stubborn nature of the Basu women, and knew that if Amala got to know about it, she would do anything to avenge her family, and finish him, just like he did to her family in Kliphagrami in 1957. In other words, Priyanka would help him keep the Basus away as much as possible, as "another Basu got in his way" (we already know he wanted to take the place of Basus and his brother Devdas), and he would help her conceive.

Priyanka on the greed of having a child, made all sorts of arrangements, including warning Sana not to tell Amala shit.

However, Sana "disobeys" Priyanka and Aryan, and gives her info about Brahmins and other knowledge about Hinduism as she felt pity and compassion for her. In this situation, Amala is our "lost sheep" in Sana's view as she doesn't know anything about her own family and her own importance, but Sana knows. In S1E3, we see this prompt when we were discussing the vision at the hotel room with Sana in the hallway:

The exact next night, the Chauhans take out Sana and arranges her wedding. She got matched for helping our "lost sheep". Her wedding was a plan to basically seperate her from Amala as soon as possible, so that Amala could not get information. That is why they rushed the marriage as soon as possible.

Oh, and Sana figured out their plans, and decides to warn Amala even immediately before her wedding.

On the day of her wedding, her groom Manu was killed by Devdas, as he got to know he touched his secret stash of books being a Shudra (lower caste) (the Doobay fam is a family of psychopaths).

How did he know that?

On S1E6, when Amala was sent downstairs forcefully from her bedroom by Priyanka, she made Sana search her room for the book of Mahanirvana Tantra. Sana knowing the location of book, gave away Amala. Priyanka now knew about the location of the book and handed it over to Devdas later. That is how Devdas got to know Manu touched his books. Now why did Sana give away Amala in this case? She was probably threatened by Priyanka.

On Sana's wedding day, Manu was murdered, making Sana a white widow (💎choice) or a Sati ritual victim (smh research about modern India by Remy.) This drifted Sana away from Amala more. Her main source of info was stopped.

Manu's death was a coincidence, and not a part of Vimal and Priyanka's plan. Devdas is just a psycho.

However, Amrit and Ratan twisted the circumstances to the point Amala eventually found out about her family, as well as her visions about the past. On the other hand, Kiran arrived. Priyanka gave this informative to Vimal as per the deal. When Vimal got to know about Amala's awareness, he finally sought on killing her and exchange Kiran's energy and soul for Priyanka's child. Probably the reason why Priyanka was so excited at the news of his arrival.

So back to point, our Sana is afraid that Kali will punish her for disobeying her masters and she feels like it is her punishment for helping the "lost sheep" that is Amala.