A heroic rescue
'Thank you, everyone, for joining us today for the shore walk to celebrate Madras Day!' she addressed everyone. We will walk along the length of the beach and finally stop at Murugan Idli for breakfast.' She smiled at Taran, the youngest in the group. Taran smiled back! He loved the chakkarapongal at Murugan Idi. He was also curious about the stories she would share.
The group walked from the sidewalk onto the beach and stood in front of a small arched structure. 'Does anyone know what this structure is?' asked their guide.
'Is it a war memorial?' asked someone. The lady shook her head to indicate a 'no'.
Taran walked up and read the name. 'Kaj Schmidt? Was he a soldier who did something brave?'
'Close! He was a sailor, not a solider. The story goes that Schmidt was a Danish sailor who noticed a British girl drowning in the waters. He saved her but, unfortunately, he died.'
Taran looked sad. He tried to imagine a young sailor from another land drowning at this beach so far from home. The guide continued. 'The girl he rescued was unbothered and went dancing the very next day to a ball. The governor was very angry at the girl and decided to build a memorial for the lad who lost his life so bravely.'
Taran's eyes went wide. Could the story be true, he thought. Could anyone be so insensitive? He looked at the memorial before walking on. For most people it just a spot to try and climb or take selfies. But it marked a tragedy.
His mother sensed his change of mood and came up. 'At least, we remember him to this day. His brave story is shared during Madras Day celebrations,' she said, putting her arm around him. Taran smiled weakly and kept walking.
The sun was already making its way up in the sky. The water no longer looked like an orange or caramelised sugar. Just white and frothy. He looked at the crowds milling about, children playing cricket, dogs nipping each other and vendors setting up their stalls. Their guide was still talking. He loved this city and the stories it held. But that morning, his thoughts were with the gallant young Danish sailor who gave up his own life to save another.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Time of India
an hour ago
- Time of India
6 months in Prem Nagar, lifetime in Shadipur: Inside convict marriages that shaped Andaman's local-born
Meerut: In the mid-19th century, on a strip of ground in Port Blair that would later be called Shadipur, men stood in straight rows under the watch of colonial warders. They were not soldiers, nor labourers seeking work. They were convicts — men who had survived years of penal labour, maintained spotless conduct, and earned the rare designation of first-class convict with a ticket-of-leave. Facing them were women, also convicts, brought from as far as Uttar Pradesh, Afghanistan, Karachi and Odisha. They walked slowly along the line, stopping when they found a man they chose. That moment—the meeting of two lives under the weight of chains—was the centrepiece of what the British called the "swayamvar parade". The match was only the beginning. For six months, the chosen couples lived in Prem Nagar — "Love Town" — a cluster of huts where they lived under constant oversight. A jury of officials decided whether they could marry formally and move to Shadipur, the "marriage settlement." Both places remain on the Port Blair map, unremarkable to the casual passer-by, but for 70,000 islanders today, they are points of origin. The Andaman Penal Settlement — kala paani — was born from the British response to the 1857 uprising. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Could This NEW Collagen Blend Finally Reduce Your Cellulite? Vitauthority Learn More Undo Thousands of men, freedom fighters and hardened criminals alike, were shipped across the Bay of Bengal to labour in a colony they would never leave. The marriage system was not designed for romance but for policy: a calculated measure to discipline convicts, settle them on land, and populate the remote outpost. From it grew what is now called the Local Born Pre-1942 community. Pronob Kumar Sircar, historian and author of 'The History of the Andaman Islands', said, "The system was layered. The jury assessed whether the couple had lived in harmony during the trial period. Only if satisfied would they approve formal marriage and allotment of land. The swayamvar was part of a colonial toolkit. The British sought to turn prisoners into settlers. They offered women, land and incentives to reshape the identity of these men—from convicts to colonisers. " Some unions trace directly to the revolt itself. Nine men from Mirzapur in Uttar Pradesh, among them Ayodhya Singh and Khedu Lakshman, were sent to the islands for killing the district magistrate and two British officers. Jaipal Singh, 68, a retired agriculturist and Ayodhya Singh's great-great-grandson, recalls family accounts of how his ancestor married an Odisha-born convict named Lalta Pradhan, known in settlement records as Billa, Convict No. 327. "As per the stories passed down, my ancestor once went back to his village, Samerpur, then in Banda district, but was turned away," Jaipal said. "The caste rules were rigid, his family refused to accept that he had married outside the caste, and his land had been confiscated. Relatives feared he would demand his share. He came back to the islands with his wife. There was no going back." Jhansi soldiers, too, became part of the colony's story. Itu Patel, Devi Prasad and others who had fought under Rani Lakshmi Bai arrived in the settlement and married through the same parade system. Their descendants—among them Dineshwar Lall and Dr Prem Kishen—still live on the islands. Dr Kishen, 77, an anaesthetist and great-grandson of Devi Prasad, says his family's oral history describes an Andamans of arid soil, dense forests, poisonous reptiles, and a survival rate barely above a third. "Later, the British shifted to generating revenue from the islands and brought in a 'brick & bouquet' approach—punishment with some incentives. Marriage became one such incentive, leading to the swayamvar parades," he said. Sircar says that colonial authorities erased caste markers among descendants, assigning surnames such as Ram and Lall to convicts from different regions. "From the parades in Shadipur to today's multi-generational households, these marriages were more than arrangements—they were a means to survive and a foundation for new lives in exile," he said. The system lasted into the early 20th century. "The British gave each newly married couple four acres of land, enough to start afresh," said Lall, Itu Patel's fourth-generation descendant. "But we were casteless in the eyes of the mainland. And since freedom fighters and hardened criminals had both gone through the same parades, everyone claimed to be a freedom fighter." Today, the streets of Shadipur and Prem Nagar carry no sign of the colonial experiment that created them. But for those who still call themselves local-born, the history is not in archives—it is in family names, land deeds, and a collective memory of how strangers in chains became the first families of the Andamans. ----------------- SIDEBAR: From exile to settlement: How the British built Andaman's penal colony British India established penal settlements in the Andaman Islands in the aftermath of the 1857 uprising. The first prisoners arrived in March 1858, tasked with clearing forest, building roads, and erecting colonial structures in harsh tropical conditions. Mortality rates were high due to disease, brutal labour, and inadequate food. Between 1858 and 1939, approximately 83,000 Indian and Burmese convicts were transported here, making it the largest such penal colony in the British Empire. Ross Island became a key administrative hub, while the term "kalapani" entered public memory as shorthand for exile and loss of caste. Women convicts, a smaller group, faced both hard labour and high mortality. From 1882 to 1887, female deaths averaged nearly 10 per 1,000 annually. Marriages were introduced partly to stabilise the male convict population and secure cooperation with colonial authorities. The construction of the Cellular Jail, completed in 1906, institutionalised solitary confinement for political prisoners, particularly those involved in India's independence movement. Today, the jail stands as a national memorial, but its history remains deeply entwined with the formation of the local-born community in the islands. Stay updated with the latest local news from your city on Times of India (TOI). Check upcoming bank holidays , public holidays , and current gold rates and silver prices in your area.
The Hindu
14 hours ago
- The Hindu
Striking tribute to a British Governor
The striking equestrian statue near the Island Grounds in Chennai is that of Sir Thomas Munro, a lion among British administrators. Installed in 1839, the lack of saddle and stirrups on the statue has long been a subject of controversy. One theory holds that this is because Francis Chantrey, the sculptor, forgot them. Another says Munro, a riding enthusiast, preferred to ride bareback. Sir Munro was Governor of Madras from 1820 till his death in 1827, and he had served in India for 40 years before that. The second of five sons of a Glasgow merchant, Thomas Munro was born on May 27, 1761. He landed in Madras early in 1780 and got the opportunity for active service within six months. Starting at the lowest rung as a soldier, he rose to the top office in the province, and he rejected the offer of Governor-Generalship.
Time of India
21 hours ago
- Time of India
School long gone, but 109-year-old handwritten registers intact
Ghaziabad: There isn't much in this building that has survived time. A witness to Independence, world wars, and the 1857 revolt, this little know piece of history in Wrightganj had multiple avatars, the longest one that of a school. Except the architecture, its heritage has withered away, except for a pile of vintage lanterns that lie strewn on its floors, illuminated by shafts of light that the arched windows let in during the day. And three registers that date back to 1918. Those are nearly intact, thanks to the efforts of former principals who made sure its brittle, yellowed pages were preserved as best as personal industry would allow. You Can Also Check: Noida AQI | Weather in Noida | Bank Holidays in Noida | Public Holidays in Noida | Gold Rates Today in Noida | Silver Rates Today in Noida Though the earliest entry in official records dates to 1916, the school building in Wrightganj was constructed in 1821 as a British tehsil office, former principals told TOI. A section of it was converted into a residential school in 1881, and that gave it the name Tehsil or Town School. On Aug 15, 1947, hours after Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru's address to the nation, Shri Murlidhar took charge as the school's first principal in free India. Shri Murlidhar led the school till Feb 15, 1949. Fourteen principals followed after him, the registers show. The information is neatly written on their pages that begin in 1918 and end in 1948, covering one of the most eventful phases of recent history. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Could This NEW Collagen Blend Finally Reduce Your Cellulite? Vitauthority Learn More Undo "Since the beginning, only classes 6, 7, 8 and 9 were taught at the school. It was probably sometime after Independence that it was renamed as Purv Madhyamik Vidyalaya," says Jagdish Sharan Sharma, the school's principal from 1998 to 2012. "UP Board was established in 1921. Before that, there were only schools till Class 8. In the Meerut division and western UP region, the school in Wrightganj is probably the oldest. Students from across other districts also came to study there," says Dharmendra Sharma, district inspector of schools, Ghaziabad. The school exists today but now operates from a new building, to which it moved in 2001, just about 200m away from the British-era one. Its current principal Layik Ahmed, who took the post in 2013, said he and his predecessors have, over the years, "tried to preserve as much of this building as possible". "The old registers were preserved and maintained. If the old building can be preserved, it can be turned into a heritage building or a museum. My father also studied in the school during the 1950s. It holds much historical value," he says. But there are no specific preservation plans for the heritage building. "We will see if anything can be done to preserve it," said OP Yadav, the local basic shiksha adhikari (BSA). The school building, it appears, isn't the only one to carry the weight of history. Named after a British collector, Wrightganj itself is a town noted in The Imperial Gazetteer of India for its role in the 1857 revolt, though the early 20th century book doesn't detail why. Stay updated with the latest local news from your city on Times of India (TOI). Check upcoming bank holidays , public holidays , and current gold rates and silver prices in your area.
