Tag Archives: Abdul Karim

The Muslim Martyrs of Royal Indian Naval Mutiny of 1946

Amazing Feats, Community Involvement / Social Issues, First War of Independence 1857 / Naval Mutiny 1946 / Others PreIndependece (wef. July 27th, 2022), Freedom Fighters (under research project), Martyrs of the Nation, World Opinion, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

BRITISH INDIA :

After the Second World War, soldiers of the Azad Hind Fauj (Indian National Army) were captured by the British forces. They were charged with treason and tried by tribunals as war criminals. Indians protested against this treatment given to the freedom fighters of Azad Hind Fauj.

In February, 1945, soldiers and officers of the Royal Indian Navy mutinied in Mumbai and Karachi. English officials including the Viceroy took this mutiny as a sign of leaving India. The British forces killed many to quell the mutiny, many of which were Muslims.

Here, we are sharing names of the few Muslims we know, who attained martyrdom for taking part in the mutiny or supporting it.

Abdul, Ali, Din Mohammad: born 1929, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Nagpada, Bombay, on 23 February 1946, died the same day.

Abdul Aziz: born 1921, domestic servant, hit by bullet in the premises of his employers as a result of firing by the police at Bombay on people demonstrating in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Abdul Razak: born 1916, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound on 22 February 1946 in firing by the police near Crawford market, Bombay, died on 24.2.46.

Abdul Rehman: born 1911, employee of private firm, hit by a bullet as a result of firing by the police at Doctor’s Street, Bombay, on people demonstrating in support of the revolt by rating of the Royal Indian Navy on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Abdul Gani: born 1901, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by police at Bombay on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Abdul Karim: born 1926, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near Crawford Market, Bombay, on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Abdul Sattar, Mohmmad Umar: born 1924, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police on 22 February 1946 at Bombay, died the same day.

Abdulla, Abdul Kadar: born 1921, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Bern- bay on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Abdulla, Safi: born 1933, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound on 22 February 1946 in firing by the police at Fort, Bombay, died in hospital the same day.

Adamji, Mohamed Hussain: born 1924, son of Allauddin Adamji, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound on 22 February 1946, in firing by the police at Bombay, died in hospital.

Ali Mohammad: born 1906, hit by bullet in firing by the police at Dadar, Bombay, on people demonstrating in favour of the revolt by ratings of the RIN on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Anwar Hossain: a student of Lahore College, hoisted the flags of revolt in the rating vessel Bahadur in Karachi, died with flags in hand on 23 February 1946.

Asgar Ismail: born 1934, received a bullet wound in firing by the police on people demonstrating in support of the revolt by ratings of the Hoyal Indian Navy on 23 February 1946, near the Paxsi Statue, at Byculla, Bombay, died on the spot.

Asghar Miya, Nawsati: born 1916, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near the J. J. Hospital, Bombay, on 23 February 1946, died in hospital.

Aziz, Chhotu: born 1921, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Bombay on 23 February 1946, died in hospital the same day.

Dilawar, Abdul Malik: born 1931, son of Dilawar Muzawar, student, hit by bullet in firing by the police at Dongri, Bombay, on people demonstrating in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Fida Ali, Kayam Ali: born 1933, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near J. J. Hospital, Bombay, on people demonstrating in favour of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy on 23 February 1946, died the same day.

Gulam Hussain, Ali Mohammad: born 1906, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police’ at Bombay on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Haroon, Hamid: born 1931, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Bombay, on 23 February 1946, died the same day.

Ibrahimji, Yusufali: born 1910, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Bombay on people’s demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy on 22 February 1946, died the same day. 

Ismail Hussain: born 1932, hit by bullet as a result of firing by the police at Bombay on people demonstrating in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy on 22 February 1946.

Ismail, Rahimtulla: bom 1911, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near the Imperial Bank, Abdul Rehman Street, Bombay, on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Jamal Mohammed: born 1926, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Bombay on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Khuda Bakhsh, Pyare: born 1876, hit by bullet as a result of firing by the police at Bombay on people demonstrating in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy on 23 February 1946, died the same day.

Manzoor Ahmed: born 1906, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound; in firing by the police at Bombay on 22 February 1946, died in hospital the same day.

Mohammed, Aboobakar: born 1928, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the RIN, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near Crawford Market, Bombay on 22 February 1946, died in hospital the same day.

Mohammed Aziz: born 1911, took part in the popular demonstra- lions in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Bombay on 22 February 1946, died in hospital the same day.

Mohammed Hussain: born 1931, son of Mulla Gulam Ali Abdul Hussain, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near J. J. Hospital, Bombay, on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Mohammed Sheik, Sayed Hassan: born 1921, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near Null Bazar police station, Bombay, on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Mohiddin, Sheik Ghulam: born 1928, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Parel, Bombay, on 22 February 1916, died the same day.

Mohmed Samikh, Taja-Urkh: born 1920, hit by bullet as a result of firing by the police at Kamathipura, Bombay, on people’s demonstration in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy on 23 February 1946, died the same day.

Moula Bakhsh, Abdul Aziz: born 1906, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Kamathipura, Bombay, on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Siddik Mohamed: born 1921, son of Isak Mohamed, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Kamathipura, Bombay, on 23 February 1946, died the same day.

Sulemanji, Zakiuddin: took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police at Bombay on 22 February 1946, died in the hospital the same day.

Taj Mohamed, Fazal Mohamed: born 1930, took part in the popular demonstrations in support of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near the Salvation Army office at Bombay, on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

Vazir, Mohamed: born 1891, took part in the popular demonstrations in favour of the revolt by ratings of the Royal Indian Navy, received a bullet wound in firing by the police near Hindmata Cinema, Bombay, on 22 February 1946, died the same day.

source: http://www.heritagetimes.in / Heritage Times / Home> Featured Posts> Freedom Movements / by Mahino Fatima / August 14th, 2021

The palace of delights

Arts, Culture & Entertainment, Books (incl.Biographies - w.e.f.01 jan 2018 ), Travel & Tourism, World Opinion, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Mandu (Dhar District), MADHYA PRADESH :

ManduMPOs13oct2018

No rainy day can be better spent than roaming around Mandu’s Jahaz Mahal, with Jahangir’s words as guide

“What words of mine can describe the beauty of the grass and green flowers? They clothe each hill and dale, each slope and plain. I know of no place so pleasant in climate and so pretty in scenery as Mandu in the rainy season,” wrote Jahangir in his memoirs.

On a misty morning in July, we entered the hilly kingdom of Mandu with these words echoing in my mind.

In 1401, Dilawar Khan, the governor of Malwa who was appointed by the Delhi Sultans, took advantage of the chaos resulting from Mongol attacks and declared his independence. He shifted the capital from Dhar to Mandu (Mandav) and renamed it Shadiabad, or City of Joy. When Ghiyasuddin Shah (1469-1500 AD) came to the throne, he decided that his father, Mahmud Shah I, had expanded the kingdom enough. All he wanted to do was enjoy life. Handing over the affairs of the kingdom to his son and heir, Nasir Shah, Ghiyasuddin Shah gave himself up to a life of delights. He was a connoisseur of food, and his recipes are sealed in an illustrated book, Nimatnama, that is with the British Library and has been translated into English by Norah M. Tiley as The Sultan’s Book of Delights.

A life of pleasure

Ghiyasuddin Shah wasn’t joking when he declared that he wanted to devote himself to a life of pleasure. He filled his harem with women who were trained in various disciplines for which they had an aptitude. While some were singers, dancers, painters and chefs, others were trained to be his guards and personal soldiers. He established a madarsa and educated the women to be proficient in religious as well as secular subjects. There were Qazis, schoolmistresses, hunters, scholars, embroiderers, and accountants among them.

We drove straight to Jahaz Mahal, a stunning building, named as such because its shape, when it fell on the water tanks surrounding it, looked like a ship.

All the guides and stories will tell you that Ghiyasuddin Shah built it to house his harem. A probably exaggerated figure of his harem was given by Jahangir, who wrote it as 15,000. That figure is gleefully quoted by local guides, with perhaps a hint of envy on their faces.

After Dilawar Khan established the Malwa dynasty he got architects and craftsmen from Delhi. The early buildings bear a stamp of the Tughlaq and Khilji architecture of Delhi.

The Jahaz Mahal, however, is a flight of imagination and takes yours along with it. I could see girls dancing and singing in the rain on the rooftop and in the courtyards, their shadows reflecting on the Munj Talao and Kaphur Taloo surrounding it.

The strains of Megh Malhar were flooding my senses, and in my mind’s eye I could see the arcades being lit up by the lanterns and lamps that were floating on the water, glimmering and dipping along with the wind, glowing like fireflies.

I could smell the heavily laden kadhais (woks), with samosas and baras being fried. As the illustrations of the Nimatnama show, the Sultan took a keen interest in, and was perhaps supervising, the correct temperature of the oil, the salt in the filling. How golden was the result?

Who knows? All I know is that I was transported back to the 15th century as soon as I entered the long, double-storied Jahaz Mahal through its main arched, marble entrance. At the back, every arch of the continuous arcaded 360-feet building opens on to Munj Talao. I don’t know how close it was originally to Kaphur (Camphor), now called Kapoor Talao, but now this is quite a distance from it. There are manicured lawns between it.

Initially it was decorated with glazed tiles and colourful friezes. Now we have the unfortunate graffiti that people are wont to inscribe on monuments. The cool corridors and pillared compartments were made for dancing and singing.

Nur Jahan accompanied Jahangir to Mandu in 1617 and the palace complex of Mandu enchanted the royal couple.

A magical bubble

Jahangir sent Abdul Karim in an advance party to repair the buildings. He was so pleased with the result that he rewarded him with the title of Ma’mur Khan (architect Khan). Mandu is a treasure house of water harvesting. There are also bathing tanks. There are two in this palace, on both the floors, shaped like a tortoise with steps going in. Now devoid of water, one can imagine women going to the toilet there, with roses and lotus flowers floating in the perfumed waters.

The roof has a few open pavilions and kiosks on its four corners. While I was there on the wet, open terrace, the mist came and blotted out everything around. We were trapped in our very own magical bubble.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Opinion – Where Stones Speak / by Rana Safvi / September 03rd, 2017

Victoria’s secret: Karim’s great grandson lives in Bengaluru!

Amazing Feats, Books (incl.Biographies - w.e.f.01 jan 2018 ), Business & Economy, Karnataka (under research project), Leaders, NRI's / PIO's, World Opinion, , , , , , , , , , ,

Bengaluru, KARNATAKA :

The family had moved to England at the Queen’s behest, bringing great solace to an increasingly homesick Karim, said Mahmood.

Javed Mahmood, Abdul Karim’s great grandson
Javed Mahmood, Abdul Karim’s great grandson

It was an April morning in Bengaluru and Javed Mahmood, as was his custom, sat down to flip through the newspapers. The year was 2010, nearly two decades since he had moved to the city to live a quiet retired life. His relatives were scattered between Bengaluru and Karachi, as they had been since Independence. Very little remained of the family’s rich history, much of what they had left was lost in the traumas of Partition and mostly forgotten. That summer morning in 2010, however, everything changed. Mahmood found, to his astonishment, that Indian author Shrabani Basu’s Victoria and Abdul: The True Story of the Queen’s Closest Confidant had uncovered the truth behind his great grandfather Abdul Karim telling a tale of friendship and loyalty. Mahmood talks to Darshana  Ramdev about a family that has been steeped in history since, with his father, Anwar being a founding member of Bata in 1933.

“I rushed at once to the British Council and asked them to help me contact her,” said Mahmood, whose grandfather, Abdul Rashid, was Karim’s adopted son. “We didn’t actually know he was adopted until Karim’s death in 1909 and the inheritance had to be dealt with.” The family had moved to England at the Queen’s behest, bringing great solace to an increasingly homesick Karim. “The Queen made them feel very much at home my grandfather received the same education that Edward VII and the rest of her children had earlier received.” The Queen, who was aware of the couple’s inability to have children, sent her personal physician, Dr. John Reid, to examine (much to his horror) Karim’s wife.

Abdul Karim with his adopted son, Abdul Rashid in England
Abdul Karim with his adopted son, Abdul Rashid in England

“Abdul Karim had been greatly maligned by historians the Queen’s family may have wanted to destroy all trace of his presence in the court. Ms Basu had gained access to hidden archives, however. Our family still had a few documents – the diary being one of them, so Shrabani and I hopped on a plane to Karachi at once!” Karim’s descendants there were understandably wary, but Mahmood succeeded in coaxing them to part with the diary. Like most people of the time, Karim maintained meticulous written records into his life, which helped set the record straight on the stream of allegations that had been made against his character. “The diary proved beyond doubt that their relationship was marked by great affection, but had remained platonic always,” said Mahmood.

Javed Mahmood’s father, Anwar Mahmood, was one of the founding members of Bata in 1933. He started the Trot Shoe Company in 1963, setting up a second factory in Whitefield in 1970.
Javed Mahmood’s father, Anwar Mahmood, was one of the founding members of Bata in 1933. He started the Trot Shoe Company in 1963, setting up a second factory in Whitefield in 1970.

It contained valuable insights into Queen Victoria’s much loved Munshi, or teacher, the prepossessing young man who won the affections of a foreboding monarch with a reputation for a heart of stone. He was presented as an orderly to the Queen, which he didn’t like it was not a fitting position for the son of a landed ‘doctor’.  He soon found himself promoted to Munshi, leading the now ailing Empress to a discovery of India. The Queen’s love for her young munshi drew jealousy, hatred and racial prejudice in a society known for its repressive puritanical leanings. Neither cared, however, with the Queen sticking her neck out on numerous instances to defend her young friend. “She was always caring and appreciative of our customs every Eid, she would walk across the grounds to Karim Cottage (on the Osborne House estate) to visit the family.” They were, in turn, invited up to the palace for tea during Christmas “The Queen would even have the windows covered with silk curtains so Karim’s family could keep the purdah. He was also a wonderful cook  he would cook for her on occasion, as an act of love.”

Little was known of his life after the Queen’s death in 1901: Karim and his family were unceremoniously deported, almost at once, by a jealous Edward VII, who been aroused to such fits of rage that he had even attempted to force his mother to abdicate from office, on grounds of insanity. “Soon after the Queen’s death, King Edward arrived at Karim Cottage in Osborne House and ordered Rashid, who was a teenager at the time, to scour the house for any heirlooms or documents that contained the royal insignia. The little they could salvage, including Karim’s diary, returned with him to Agra in 1901, where he died eight years later. “He died at the age of 48 and the family was given his inheritance,” said Mahmood.

These remained with the family for some decades, until talk of Partition began to do the rounds. “We were a fairly prominent family and were advised at the time to shift temporarily to Bhopal, until the trouble blew over,” said Mahmood. This they did, greatly underestimating the scope of the problem and packing only the essentials. When the Partition took place, the family was evacuated to Mumbai, but many of the treasures were lost in transit. “The diary was with my grandfather, who was the custodian of Karim’s things.” The family moved to Karachi, save for Mahmood’s mother, Begum Qamar Jahan and two sisters. The diary went to Pakistan with them. “One of the sisters eventually shifted to Pakistan too,” he explained.

Meanwhile, in 1933, Bata, which was a burgeoning Czech company, found itself in hot water after the nation was declared Communist. The company decided to set up a factory near Calcutta, where leather was widely available. The large Muslim population in the area was another perk, providing the tannery services they so badly needed. “My father, Anwar Mahmood, was one of the founding members of the company,” he said. He joined the company at the age of 16 and worked there for nearly 30 years before he started his own business, the Trot Shoe Company. The first factory was set up in Kolkata in 1963 and the second in Whitefield, in 1970. “The organised shoe industry didn’t exist in South India and the Karnataka government had offered businesses a number of benefits, which led us here,” said Mahmood. Natural rubber, an important raw material and was grown abundantly in Kerala, making it easily accessible.  “My elder brother managed the factory here, I handled the one in Kolkata and my parents shuttled between the two cities. When my younger brother was ready to start work, we established a third branch in Hosur.” Javed Mahmood and his younger brother still call Bengaluru home.

Mahmood tells his story from San Francisco, where calls have been pouring in from across the world since the release of the film, Victoria and Abdul. “The film is doing very well, it’s being shown at local theatres here as well and friends have been getting in touch to tell me how much they enjoyed it,” he smiles.

“My great grandfather’s relationship with the Queen had been presented as scandalous and sleazy he was falsely accused of every imaginable sin. Ms Basu read Karim’s diary cover-to-cover and brought those insights into the second edition of her book.” And that’s how Abdul Karim’s story received its long overdue re-telling, well over a 100 years after his death in 1909. “Queen Victoria was a woman far ahead of her times, rising well above the prejudices that so plagued her society, to defend the young Indian man she called a friend. I think there’s a lesson in it for all of us even today.”

source: http://www.deccanchronicle.com / Deccan Chronicle / Home> Nation – In Other News / by Darshana Ramdev, Deccan Chronicle / October 14th, 2017

When the Empress of India Met Her Muslim Teacher

Arts, Culture & Entertainment, Community Involvement / Social Issues, NRI's / PIO's, World Opinion, ,

Lalitpur (Jhansi) & Agra (UTTAR PRADESH) / London, GREAT BRITAIN with Empress of India

Queen Victoria at her desk, assisted by her servant Abdul Karim, the munshi.
Queen Victoria at her desk, assisted by her servant Abdul Karim, the munshi.

VICTORIA & ABDUL 

The True Story of the Queen’s Closest Confidant

By Shrabani Basu

Illustrated. 334 pp. Vintage Books. Paper, $16.

I really do wonder if I am qualified to review this remarkable work. I am a nonagenarian, Anglo-Welsh, republican, agnostic liberal, an only half-redeemed British imperialist, sexually complex and incorrigibly romantic. “Victoria & Abdul” is about an aging British queen, her eccentric obsession with an engaging Muslim servant from India and the half-farcical opposition of the British establishment to their relationship. I had never heard of the story until the book reached me for my critique, and I had no idea it was about to be the subject of a much-publicized movie.  Am I qualified to respond to it for The New York Timer? Reader, judge for yourself.

When it first reached me I began, as a republican, by scoffing. The very status of Alexandrina Victoria, Queen of England, at the time of her first encounter with that Indian servant struck me as perfectly ridiculous. She was a woman in her late 60s who was treated with almost religious reverence and responded accordingly. The whole preposterous charade of royalty was performed perpetually in her presence. It was wildly exaggerated, too, because she happened to be the titular head not simply of a small island nation but of the most enormous empire in the history of empires, claiming sovereignty over nearly a quarter of the earth’s surface. Perhaps the least logical of these bizarre circumstances was the fact that among her far-flung territories was one of the proudest and most ancient of all human entities, India. Since 1877, Victoria had been called Queen Empress, and India was the reason.

I scoffed, but then that Indian charmer entered the book, and I was beguiled.

So was Victoria. Abdul Karim was 24 when he arrived in England in 1887, engaged as an orderly for the queen during her Golden Jubilee celebrations and presently also charged with teaching Her Imperial Majesty Hindustani (as the British habitually referred to both Hindi and Urdu). Although of relatively humble stock, he was a born winner, educated, good-looking, clever and ambitious. I soon fell for him myself.

In no time at all, it seems, he became far more than an orderly, but rather an Indian gentleman of the court, more or less self-promoted out of the servants’ quarters and dubbed, by Her Majesty’s command, a “munshi” — which meant, I gather, a sort of more-than-teacher. This in turn seems to have morphed into a vaguely aristocratic honorific, and before long the delightful young orderly had become the Munshi. For the rest of his life he flaunted the title, and “Bravo,” say I!

Victoria02MPOs06oct2017

I find myself genuinely touched by the bond between the empress and the munshi. He was an opportunist, but he was kind, which for my money redeems many faults, and old Victoria had been having a rotten time of it. First she lost her adored husband, Albert, and never got over it, and then John Brown, her beloved Scots gillie, died on her. Victoria’s nine children were scattered across Britain and Europe, and they were a mixed bag anyway. It must have been a lonely time for the old lady, but then along came Abdul Karim, in his virile youth, and he was very soon treating her not only as an empress but as a woman.

There was obviously nothing carnal about the relationship. Heaven forbid! The munshi seems to have regarded Victoria as an affectionate and generous surrogate mother. (She gave Abdul Karim and his wife three cottages, each near one of her own palaces, plus some land in India, and when he traveled on the royal train he had a whole carriage to himself.) In return he gave her his sympathy and understanding, and in particular they both seem to have enjoyed her daily (and very successful) lessons in Hindustani.

The affair, if we can call it that, spilled over into the style of the British court, which became more and more Indianified. Indian colors were everywhere, Indian sounds and even Indian smells (for curries were often served). When the court indulged itself or its visitors with one of its elaborate tableaux vivants, Indian faces were prominent on the stage, and indeed in the tableau of the king of Egypt, pictured in this book, the Pharaonic ruler himself was played by none other than — the munshi!

The generally snobbish and often racist British establishment of the day came to detest the munshi with an almost comical fervor, and, led by Victoria’s son and heir, Bertie, who later reigned as Edward VII, persecuted even Abdul Karim’s memory when he and his love were both long gone. I suspect that the munshi was a sort of dual reincarnation of Victoria’s beloved Albert and her dear, dear John Brown. And if there was something rather excessive — even, to my mind, schoolgirlish — about her attachment to her young servant, it was perhaps only a late and pathetic extension of the maternal instinct.

I grew fond of them both as I read this generous and meticulous book, and I write this review now with a sentimental tear in my eye. So what think you, Reader? Am I qualified for the job?

_____________________

Jan Morris is the author of some 40 books of travel, fiction, memoir and history, including the Pax Britannica trilogy.

source:  http://www.nytimes.com / The New York Times / Home> Book-Review / Non-Fiction / by Jan Morris / October 03rd, 2017