2 Indian-origin Singaporeans booked for organising illegal public assemblies of foreign workers
France, a secular nation, is experiencing a surprising rise in Catholic baptisms, with 10,384 adults baptised this Easter—a 46% increase from last year. The surge, linked to post-COVID reflections and a search for community, is notable given France's low weekly church attendance. Many new converts come from non-religious backgrounds, highlighting a shift in spiritual interest.
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New Indian Express
2 hours ago
- New Indian Express
Raging for a greener future: How Punjab's soil turned her into an activist
PUNJAB: After living as a dutiful housewife for 25 long years, something suddenly stirred in Samita Kaur (now 51) in 2020. Back when the world was reeling under the Covid-19 pandemic and the farmers were holding protests on the outskirts of the national capital against the three contentious farm laws (later repealed), Samita was fighting her own battle. She had spent years looking after her ailing in-laws and playing the role of a nurturer at home. But she had made up her mind to walk out of a marriage that she felt was suppressing her. And she didn't care how society would react. 'Divorce, in my opinion, shouldn't be seen as a taboo. It can be seen as a positive step, too,' she muses. Ask her why she suddenly decided to part ways with her husband, and pat comes her reply: 'I wanted to set an example for our children. I had to tell them that they must not compromise on their principles. That they shouldn't be okay with violence. To stand up against atrocities and look adversities in the eye. It's unfortunate that our society often pressurises a woman to stay in a marriage for the sake of their children. It is time for all to realise that in order to safeguard our children, it is sometimes important to walk away. My marriage ended because I was being degraded and abused in front of my kids.' But it wasn't as easy as it sounds now. Samita barely had a small set of clothes and little money when she walked away from her husband. But she soldiered on. Luckily, there was a happy ending. 'The broken relationship between my husband and me has now turned into a friendship that we are taking forward for our children. It just shows that something positive always comes out of everything. When you have seen the worst in life, you stop fearing anything. And you start treating tomorrow as just another day.' And it was those testing times that made her realise who would always have her back. 'My children, father, friends and our extended family were my biggest support system. It's during those tough times that you realise how superficial money is. It comes and goes. All that matters is who stands with you.'
Time of India
10 hours ago
- Time of India
Office Para Dalhousie
Once the most politically charged precinct east of Suez, Kolkata's Dalhousie Square — now officially BBD Bag — is a living relic. It was the cradle of modern Indian governance, the workshop of the British East India Company, and the epicentre of Bengal's revolutionary fervour. Tired of too many ads? go ad free now As the steel girders of the Mahakaran metro station pierce the subsoil of this historic heartland, and scaffolding wraps Writers' Buildings in a veil of future promise, the Square is slowly shifting its silhouette — from a colonial memoryscape to a dynamic urban commons. At the crossroads of nostalgia and necessity, Dalhousie Square stands at a unique moment in time. It is steeped in layered narratives — from the administrative architecture of the British Empire to revolutionary blood spilled in the name of freedom. Now, the future demands that it evolve into a space that not only honours its past but actively engages the civic life of contemporary Kolkata. "Dalhousie Square is not just a cluster of colonial-era buildings — it is the treasury of governance memories for all of modern south Asia," says Alapan Bandyopadhyay, former Bengal chief secretary and the current chairman of the Bengal Heritage Commission. Bandyopadhyay's relationship with the precinct is intimate. He spent long years working in the Writers' Buildings, the city's oldest and most symbolic secretariat. Its most iconic structure, the red-brick Writers' Buildings, is currently undergoing long-overdue restoration. Once the domain of the Company's "writers" — junior clerks — the edifice morphed into Bengal's administrative core through the 19th and 20th centuries. And yet, in its silent grandeur, it remained a watchtower of colonial nostalgia and an unwilling witness to post-Independence inertia. Tired of too many ads? go ad free now "Heritage must not remain fossilised in nostalgia," Bandyopadhyay insists. "The challenge is to reimagine this historical heart of Kolkata as a dynamic, democratic, and sustainable public space — a cultural and administrative commons where history coexists with contemporary urban life." For decades, Dalhousie Square served as the office para — the de facto central business district (CBD) of Kolkata. While the centrality of this function persists, the precinct today battles dilapidation, traffic chaos, visual clutter, and urban disconnection. The area that once housed India's first reserve bank (Currency Building, 1770), Asia's first hotel (Spence's, 1830), first elevator (Raj Bhawan, 1892), first telegraph line (1854), world's first fingerprint bureau (1897), and now, Asia's first underwater Metro, is being forced to ask itself difficult questions: What is the future of a CBD that still operates on 19th-century blueprints? Can nostalgia become an asset in urban revitalisation? "There is an urgent need to bring pedestrian friendliness, restore architectural harmony, declutter signage, and reactivate historic spaces for civic engagement," says urban planner Dipankar Sinha, former DG (Town Planning) of KMC. "We don't need to turn Dalhousie into a tourist trap, but we must make it a civic spectacle." Bandyopadhyay sees the opportunity as transformative. "In the years ahead, I envision Dalhousie Square as a seamless confluence of preservation and progress," he explains. "Restored heritage structures should house public institutions, museums, think tanks, cultural hubs, and quiet courtyards for civic interaction." If the future is subterranean, Dalhousie is already digging in. The Mahakaran metro station, being built just south of the Writers' Buildings, symbolises not just physical connectivity, but philosophical renewal. Kolkata's first under-river metro is not only an engineering feat but also a metaphor for linking eras — past, present, and future. And while the future promises a cleaned-up square, enhanced public transport, and restored facades, it must also reckon with the emotional landscape that Dalhousie inhabits in the hearts of its citizens. Kolkata has long been called the Capital of Nostalgia, and nowhere is this truer than at Dalhousie. Every forgotten corner here has hosted the arc of empire, revolution, and resistance. The square is more than a site of colonial governance; it was also the theatre of resistance. In 1930, three young revolutionaries — Benoy, Badal, and Dinesh — stormed the Writers' Buildings to assassinate a top British official. Their sacrifice lent BBD Bag its present name. Even earlier, the Rodda Arms Heist of 1914, in which Bengali nationalists stole German Mauser pistols in broad daylight, unfolded in the same alleys. In 1930, C A Tegart, then police commissioner, narrowly escaped an assassination attempt right here. The resistance embedded in Dalhousie's stones still whispers beneath the city's postcolonial calm. Today, a red sign for AG Bengal on the Treasury Building — the former site of Spence's Hotel — sits jarringly over intricate friezes. The room where C V Raman once worked lies unmarked. Even President Rajendra Prasad walked these corridors, now largely anonymous to passersby. Dalhousie's heritage is not just something to be protected; it's a brand, a potential urban identity. "Dalhousie has been left with memories," said Chandranath Chattopadhyay, a cultural commentator. "But that can be a compliment. If only we could reimagine these neighbourhoods, get the world to gawk at their romance, stay in our hotels, carry our stories home—we could turn memory into momentum." Dalhousie's future is more than architectural — it is psychological. For a city battling modernity on uncertain terms, Dalhousie offers a unique roadmap: how to remain old without becoming obsolete, said P K Mishra, an archaeologist who worked for long at Dalhousie. Making of Dalhousie Dalhousie Square's story begins with Job Charnock of the British East India Company, who set up a kuthi (factory) near the Hooghly banks in 1690. From this foothold, the Company built Fort William, established St Anne's Church, and gradually acquired the villages of Sutanuti, Govindapur, and Kalikata — laying the foundation of modern Calcutta British historian H E A Cotton described Dalhousie as the "pivot of the settlement" in 'Calcutta Old and New' (1909), noting its role as the nerve centre of governance, commerce, and communication. Over the years, the square became home to a stunning array of 'firsts' — Asia's first hotel (Spence's), elevator (Raj Bhawan), telegraph line, fingerprint bureau, and more The area also witnessed pivotal moments of political resistance: the Rodda Arms Heist, the Benoy-Badal-Dinesh attack on Writers' Buildings, and multiple assassination attempts on British officials Also known as BBD Bag, the square is undergoing a crucial transformation. As the past is restored and the future built underground, Dalhousie remains the beating heart of a city that remembers — and dreams|
Indian Express
a day ago
- Indian Express
Artist Jayasri Burman on how her love for the the Ganga flows through her canvas
By Jayasri Burman I was still a child when the river Ganga became an indelible part of how I perceived the world. Growing up in Kolkata, visiting the ghats of the river with my family for Mahalaya was an annual ritual. We would offer prayers for our departed ancestors and my father would bathe in the river. Though I participated in the rituals with sincerity, what truly captivated me was the array of activities on the banks. Any ghat we visited across Kolkata — whether Bagbazar, Nimtala or Dakshineswar — it was like a theatre stage, with so many scenes unfolding. If at one end people would be performing aarti, at another they would be mixing black rice and banana to be offered to the river for their ancestors. There would be mourning widows casting their precious shakha-pola bangles into the holy river and another side had people oiling themselves, performing surya pranam exercises. I think it was my admiration for the Ganga that led to the presence of water as an element in my art. Even as a six-seven year old, I would often have a river in my drawings, flowing from the mountains. I still have some of those drawings. Later, of course, the thought-process became more layered, enriched with mythological references merged with my own fantastical imaginations. The river transformed into a mother figure for me. I found it mystical and mysterious how one river could hold such ability to empower and evoke such enduring faith. In many ways, I am still looking for answers. Tracing its course — spanning over 2,500 km from the Himalayas to central India and Bangladesh — you realise how it has been a source of fertility and joy across the region. Even in mythology, she marries King Shantanu and goes on to drown her eight sons for their moksha. This represents the selfless spirit of motherhood, her willingness to suppress her emotional attachment to her children. Over the years, I developed a primordial relationship with the river. I made a conscious effort to pay my obeisance at different ghats, planning trips to places such as Haridwar, Rishikesh, Varanasi and across West Bengal. At every place devotion to her brings people together, yet what we encounter as pilgrims differs. If in Rishikesh the serene waters invite quiet contemplation, in Varanasi the burning ghats flicker with fire at night. There are sadhus with faces smeared with bhasma, vendors selling bead necklaces. Draped in saris with no adornment except the streak of sindoor on their heads, women selling shiv lingams appear to be manifestation of Durga herself. As my admiration for the Ganga deepened, I found myself immersed in the rich mythology, literature and history that detail it. In 2021, when during Covid we saw dead bodies floating in the Ganga, my desire to paint its determination and resilience grew manifold. Though a passage for the dead, the river remained pristine. I began to explore the countless stories that its waters carry, imbibing them into my own imagined landscapes, using creative liberties that I have as an artist. If as Nandini, in my depiction she is seated graciously on a Kamadhenu-like cow in conversation with ducks and hybrid humans, as Adhishree she takes the form of a mermaid in a lotus pond. Kumudini portrays her under a floral umbrella, and as Panchaya Kanya she sits on an elephant, calmly controlling the flow of water with her hands. A series of drawings dedicated to Haridwar have abstract lines come together to create figurative forms and weave narratives of life around it. In the 22-foot bronze sculpture, Jahnavi I — where we see mother Ganga with a lotus headgear, standing on a crocodile and holding a baby girl who morphs into a bird — the river becomes the universe itself, urging people to safeguard the Earth, represented by the child who embodies our shared future. We'll face the consequences of our actions in the years to come. The sculpture's features and form were also inspired by my time learning traditional sculpting techniques from potters at Kumartuli, located near the Hooghly River (a distributary of the Ganga). The lessons I gained there, much like the wisdom imparted by the Ganga, are lifelong. As a river of unwavering faith, the Ganga inspires me with her unbounding resilience. As told to Vandana Kalra
