Tuesday, 30 September 2025

English: The Glorious Mongrel That Conquered the World (and Why OMG Isn’t NASA)”

English: The Glorious Mongrel That Conquered the World

(and Why OMG Isn’t NASA)

Language, that most mercurial of human inventions, is forever evolving — slippery, inventive, and gloriously impure. Many years ago, my late friend Frank F. Moore — “Tio Franco” to his circle in Denton, Texas. He was a scientist with Poco Graphite in Denton, Texas, a man trained to measure carbon structures rather than turn phrases — put it more pithily, bluntness he declared: “English is a mongrel language.” He passed away in 2017, but the quip lingers, echoing in my mind every time I stumble upon the quirks of acronyms, initialisms, and our Indianised flourishes.

At first blush, the phrase may sound ungenerous, as though our lingua franca were some scruffy street-dog skulking about alleyways. But in truth, his description was spot on. English is a mongrel of the noblest sort: resilient, resourceful, and gloriously unashamed of its mixed heritage.

A Patchwork Parentage

English has never been shy of borrowing, pilfering, or adopting wholesale from every tongue it encountered. Its patchwork parentage is a veritable museum of world history:

Latin and Greek: scholarly gravitas — philosophy, radius, auditorium.
The Saxons and Norsemen: bread-and-butter words — sky, bread, winter, house.
The Norman French: aristocratic sheen — judge, court, beef, mutton.
India: hundreds of contributions beyond bungalow, curry, and pyjamas:

Animals & Nature: cheetah (Sanskrit chitraka), mongoose (Marathi muṅgūs), jackal (Persian via India), banyan (Gujarati vāṇiyo).
Food & Drink: curry (Tamil kari), chutney, toddy (tadi), punch (Hindi panch), ginger, mango (Tamil maangai).
Everyday Life: pyjamas (Hindi pae jama), shawl (Urdu shal), khaki (Urdu khākī), verandah (Hindi via Portuguese).
Other Curiosities: loot (Hindi lut), thug (Hindi/Marathi thag), jungle (Hindi jangal), pundit (Sanskrit pandita), guru.
Seafaring Culture: catamaran (Tamil kaṭṭumaram).

The Americas, meanwhile, added tomato, chocolate, hurricane, and barbecue.

If words were dowries, English has been married a dozen times over. And the beauty is, it makes no attempt to hide its mixed parentage. Where the French wring their hands over la pureté de la langue française, English cheerfully shrugs and says: “Come along, old chap, you’re one of us now.”

A Linguistic Masala

English has absorbed India’s exotic ingredients and everyday mundanity alike — verandah, khaki, cheetah, catamaran — producing a global thali of words.

Acronyms vs Initialisms

Consider BBC, NASA, OMG, WHO, ISRO — do we know the difference?

Initialism: You read each letter separately

BBC → Bee Bee See
USA → You Ess Ay
OMG → Oh Em Gee
WHO → Double You Aitch Oh
ISRO is also an initialism — launching satellites, not words.

Acronym: Pronounced as a word

NASA → Nassa
FIFA → Fee-fah
SIM → Sim
WHO → sometimes Who

The Indian Quirk

In India, BCCI is often called an acronym, SIM cards are “filled,” showcasing Indian English’s flexibility and inventive charm.

The Larger Lesson & Closing Thought

English is gloriously inconsistent yet forgiving. It thrives on promiscuity, welcomes newcomers, and remains the most successful mongrel language in history. Text OMG, read NASA bulletins, admire ISRO, and order tandoori chicken — all in English.

In memory of Frank F. Moore (“Tio Franco”), who first reminded me that English is, and will always be, a glorious mongrel.

The Indian English Mosaic — Where English Found New Life

When English crossed the seas to India, it did not remain the Queen’s tongue for long. It began listening to other languages — Tamil, Hindi, Bengali, Urdu, Malayalam — and soon started speaking in a rhythm and idiom entirely its own. English in India is no longer a foreign import; it is a naturalised citizen, a living, evolving presence that reflects the multilingual soul of the subcontinent.

Once, while speaking with my Irish–American friend Frank F. Moore, I said I was “looking for something concrete.” He looked puzzled. For him, concrete meant cement and gravel — but for me, an Indian, it also meant definite, pucca, confirmed. This is how Indian English lives — by taking British words and bending them to Indian realities.

In Indian cities and small towns alike, English has found new idioms, new lives, and new humour. It is the lingua franca of officialdom and cinema, cricket commentary and everyday speech — an English that thinks in many languages at once.

Everyday Conversations — When British English Meets Indian English

A popular online exchange between a British man and an Indian girl went viral for good reason — it showed how the same language wears two very different cultural costumes. Here are a few of the delightful contrasts that reveal how Indian English has carved its own rhythm and meaning.

British English	Indian English	Context / Note
Blister	Shoe bite	Used when new shoes hurt the heel — everyday Indian usage.
School lunch	Tiffin	“Tiffin” refers to a packed lunch or a light meal, from South-Asian colonial slang.
Meat	Non-veg	Menu distinction between veg and non-veg; entirely Indian in origin.
Yoghurt	Curd	Home-made fermented milk, a daily staple in most Indian homes.
One hundred thousand	One lakh	Part of the Indian numbering system. We write it as 1,00,000.
One million / ten lakh	Ten lakh / One crore	Indian English often uses “lakh” for 100,000 and “crore” for 10,000,000. Commas are placed differently: 1,00,000 = 1 lakh, 10,00,000 = 10 lakh, 1,00,00,000 = 1 crore, and figures can go much higher.
Bring forward	Prepone	A uniquely Indian innovation — the opposite of postpone.
I’ve arrived	I’ve reached	Preferred phrasing when informing someone of one’s arrival.
Out of town	Out of station	Railway-era idiom that lives on in offices and government circles.
I’m killing time	I’m doing timepass	Cheerful colloquialism for idling or casual chatter.
Warehouse	Godown	From Anglo-Indian usage; still common in business English.

These examples show not incorrect English but a living dialect — expressive, inventive, and tuned to the rhythms of Indian life. The numbering system alone demonstrates a distinctive Indian logic, where commas and terms like lakh and crore help us navigate extremely large figures effortlessly.

Regional Flavours and Variations

Indian English is not a monolith; it wears different regional accents, idioms, and vocabulary across the subcontinent. The influence of local languages, culture, and history gives each region its own flavour:

South India: Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Pondicherry — retains many colonial English terms; pronunciation influenced by Dravidian phonetics; formal and literary expressions survive.
North and West India: Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati influences; some words borrowed directly from local languages; syntax sometimes mirrors Hindi grammar.
East and North-East India: Bengali, Assamese, and other languages influence tone and vocabulary; retains British pronunciation patterns more strongly.

Anglo-Indian English — The Forgotten Bridge

Another fascinating layer of Indian English is Anglo-Indian English, historically spoken in Madras, Calcutta, Bangalore, and other cantonment towns. This variant arose among the Eurasian community during colonial times and served as a bridge between British and Indian cultures.

Examples include:

“She’s gone for a small walk.” — charmingly formal, yet intimate.
Use of older British idioms, preserved long after the British left.
Vocabulary often blends British English with local Indian syntax.

Today, echoes of Anglo-Indian English survive in South Indian speech, in writing, and in popular cinema, giving modern Indian English its soft, polite, and rhythmically distinct tone.

When Words Take a Detour — The Curious Case of Stepney

Some English words in India live double lives. Take Stepney. Literally, it is a spare tyre — but in slang, it also refers to a mistress kept apart from one’s wife. The origin? Stepney is a town in East London historically famous for spare wheels. Only in India did it evolve its cheeky second meaning.

Puncture — A Flat Tyre and More

Similarly, in Indian English, a puncture is not just the act of puncturing; it has become the default term for a flat tyre, the shop where it is repaired, and even the mechanic’s domain. For example:

“There’s a puncture shop near the signal; they’ll fix your Stepney in ten minutes.”

Indian roads are littered with linguistic surprises like this — words that British English speakers recognise, but whose Indian meaning has subtly shifted.

The Car Still Speaks British — Motoring English in India

Indian English retains many colonial-era motoring terms, often with unique Indian usage:

Term	Indian English Usage	Note
Steering Wheel	Steering Wheel	Standard usage
Dicky	Boot	British “dicky” = car boot/ trunk
Bonnet	Hood	Classic British term retained
Stepney	Spare tyre / mistress	Double life of a word
Puncture	Flat tyre / repair shop	Common Indian English usage
Roundana	Roundabout	South Indian local slang
Petrol	Petrol	Retained British usage
Indicator	Blinker	British/Indian retention

Indian English Slang and Local Colour

Indian English is wonderfully inventive, full of slang, idioms, and cultural resonances:

Pucca / Pukka: confirmed, solid, reliable.
Funda: concept or principle.
Co-brother: brother-in-law, often son’s father-in-law.
Hotel: restaurant, not lodging.
Timepass: idling, casual fun.
Batchmate: school or college peer.

OC — A Tamil Nadu Special

OC (short for On Company) is a uniquely Tamil Nadu / South Indian English term used to indicate that something is free of cost — whether a service, a gift, or an item provided without payment. The term traces back to colonial times when letters bearing OC were sent free of postage by the East India Company.

Today, people in Tamil Nadu still use the term OC casually. For example:

"Don’t pay for the sweets; they are OC."
"This ticket was OC — got it as a gift from a friend."

Key Notes:

Exclusive to Tamil Nadu and some adjoining regions — rare elsewhere in India.
Originates from the colonial postal abbreviation On Company.
Widely understood in everyday Tamil Nadu English, especially for gifts, freebies, or complimentary items.
Demonstrates how colonial and local histories merge into regional English variants.

Indian English doesn’t borrow from its mother tongues; it converses with them. Each word carries the weight of centuries of cultural contact, humour, and colonial history, making the language rich, playful, and unmistakably Indian.

Butler English — A Colonial Relic

Another fascinating, though now rare, variety connected to India’s English history is Butler English — historically also called Bearer English or Kitchen English. It developed during the British colonial era, especially in the Madras Presidency, as an occupational dialect used between British masters and Indian household staff. ([Wikipedia])

Note: Butler English was historically used by domestic staff in British households, simplifying grammar and vocabulary for functional communication. I remember hearing it frequently in my childhood, though today it is rare, surviving only occasionally in certain pockets. ([Read more])

Butler English was not “bad English”; rather, it was a practical adaptation of English for everyday communication, with structural features resembling pidgins. Key characteristics include:

Simplified grammar and reduced inflections;
Omission of auxiliary verbs such as is or have;
Use of been as a past tense marker;
Concise vocabulary suited to household and social contexts. ([Wikipedia])

Illustrative examples of Butler English phrases include:

“One master call for come India … eh England. I say not coming. That master very liking me.” — a snippet showing how meaning was conveyed through simplified constructions. ([Wikipedia])

Key Notes on Butler English:

Originated in the Madras Presidency during British colonial rule, primarily for domestic and social communication.
Shares features with pidgins — simplified grammar, reduced forms, and functional vocabulary.
Illustrates a style distinct from modern Indian English, reflecting colonial occupational roots.
Rarely used today; survives only in isolated pockets or through historical memory and anecdotes.
Highlights English’s adaptability and flexibility across social and cultural contexts.

English in the Indian Imagination

English came to India as a visitor, but it stayed as a member of the household. It absorbed, adapted, and evolved. It listens to Tamil prayers, sings Hindi songs, debates Urdu poetry, and orders dosa at the local café — all in the same sentence. It has learned to eat with its hands, dance to the beat of Indian streets, and still keep the Queen’s grammar at bay when needed.

Truly, Indian English is not a deviation. It is a triumphant hybrid, a living testament to how a language can survive, thrive, and flourish by embracing multiplicity rather than purity.

Closing Thought

The next time someone tosses “OMG” or “NASA” into the conversation, you may gently enlighten them: both are abbreviations, but only one is an acronym. And if you wish to impress further, point out that WHO is both — a rare double agent in the world of words.

Yes, English is a mongrel. But it is also the most successful mongrel in history — resourceful, resilient, and utterly unashamed of its eclectic parentage. And perhaps that is why, when the story of human civilisation is told in centuries to come, it will most likely be told — in English.

In memory of Frank F. Moore (“Tio Franco”), who first reminded me that English is, and will always be, a glorious mongrel.

#EnglishLanguage #Linguistics #WordNerd #Etymology #IndianEnglish #GlobalEnglish #LanguageMongrel #MongrelMeansGlory #FlexibleEnglish #AcronymsVsInitialisms #OMG #NASA #ISRO #WordCulture #LanguageTrivia #EnglishIsFun #LanguageHistory #ColonialLegacy #ButlerEnglish #IndianSlang #GlobalThaliOfWords

© Dhinakar Rajaram, 2025 — Bibliotheque Series: Science, Memory and the Indian Gaze. All rights reserved. The term “mongrel” is used here to celebrate English’s remarkable adaptability, eclectic heritage, and global reach — it is a term of admiration, not insult. No part of this blog may be reproduced or used without proper attribution.

Thursday, 18 September 2025

Pamban’s Subaqueous Diurnal: On the ‘Undersea River’ of the Palk Strait

Stand upon the storied Pamban Bridge — that elegant steel span linking Rameswaram Island with the Tamil littoral — and one may observe a marvel most unsuspected: beneath, the waters surge not with random caprice but with the gravitas of a river, flowing one way for half the year and then, like Janus turning his twin visages, reversing course for the next. Locals, with their penchant for evocative metaphor, have dubbed it an “undersea river.” Oceanographers, with their charts and instruments, term it more prosaically the seasonally reversing current of the Palk Strait.

The Phenomenon Explained:

The narrow channel between India and Sri Lanka is the meeting ground of two mighty seasonal regimes: the South-West and North-East monsoons. Between March and September, the current flows northward — an aqueous conveyor belt carrying warmth and suspended silt. Come October, the wheel turns; the North-East monsoon asserts dominion, and the flow reverses, coursing southward until February’s end. This biannual oscillation is no poetic fancy; hydrographic measurements register velocities approaching 0.8 to 1.0 metres per second in the Pamban Pass.

A History of Observation:

Though fishermen and ferrymen had long known of these reversals, it was under the British hydrographer James Rennell in the late eighteenth century that the first systematic surveys were undertaken. Admiralty charts recorded the quixotic currents, and Victorian travellers waxed lyrical about “a tide that runs like a river in the sea.” In modern times, oceanographic satellites and reanalysis datasets — OSCAR, HYCOM, and the Copernicus Marine Service — have confirmed the cyclic nature of this aqueous ballet.

Why It Matters:

This “undersea river” is no mere curiosity. Its bi-directional flow modulates salinity, affects sediment transport, and influences the fragile geomorphology of Adam’s Bridge — that chain of shoals linking Dhanushkodi with Talaimannar. Marine life, too, responds to this ebb and flow; plankton blooms and fish migrations are subtly choreographed by this hidden conductor. Even the fate of harbours and fisheries along Tamil Nadu’s Coromandel coast is tethered to this hydrodynamic see-saw.

The Science behind the Spectacle:

Oceanographers classify these as seasonally reversing monsoon currents, a singular hallmark of the Indian Ocean. Unlike the Gulf Stream, steady in its northward march, or the Kuroshio, constant in its eastward sweep, the East India Coastal Current pirouettes with the monsoons. In the lexicon of the learned, it exemplifies mare clausum in miniature — a semi-enclosed sea where atmospheric whimsy dictates hydrographic choreography.

Key findings:

The currents in the Palk Strait / Pamban Channel / Gulf of Mannar are strongly influenced by the Indian monsoon and reverse seasonally: broadly, northward flow during March–September and southward flow during October–February/March.
Measured current speeds in the Pamban Pass can reach 0.8–1.0 m s⁻¹. These flows are visibly perceptible from Pamban Bridge.
First systematic hydrographic recordings were during the British Era (James Rennell, Admiralty surveys).
Popular term “undersea river” is metaphorical; scientifically it is a seasonally reversing coastal current.

Epilogue:

Thus, what to the naked eye from Pamban Bridge appears a quaint curiosity — water flowing like a river beneath the sea — is in fact a grand manifestation of monsoon’s might. Here is India’s littoral geography at its most theatrical: the ocean itself bowing to the subcontinent’s atmospheric rhythms. Sic transit gloria mundi — the tide turns, and with it, the world in miniature.

References:

Schott, F.A. & McCreary, J.P. (2001). The monsoon circulation of the Indian Ocean. Progress in Oceanography.
Vinayachandran, P.N. et al. (2005). Indian Ocean circulation and seasonal reversal along the east coast. Deep Sea Research.
Rao, R.R. et al. (2011). Sea level and currents in the Indo–Sri Lanka channel. Continental Shelf Research.
Rennell, J. (1781). Chart of the Palk Strait and adjacent seas. Admiralty archives.

#PalkStrait #OceanCurrents #Monsoon #MarineScience #Hydrodynamics #ClimateSystems #PambanBridge #Rameswaram #AdamsBridge #TamilNadu #SriLanka #IndianOcean #JamesRennell #ColonialHydrography #MaritimeHistory #Indology #UnderseaRiver #OceanMysteries #GeographyFacts #NatureWonders #BlogspotIndia

Thursday, 4 September 2025

Whispers of Steam: The Forgotten Metre-Gauge Railways of Sindh

Rust, Steam, and Memory: The Metre-Gauge Railways of Sindh

Rust, Steam, and Memory

The Metre-Gauge Railways of Sindh

In the sun-scorched expanse of Sindh, where the horizon shimmers like molten brass and the air quivers with heat, there once coursed a veritable artery of human ingenuity: the metre-gauge steam railway that threaded Hyderabad, Mirpur Khas, Nawabshah, and thence to Jodhpur. Conceived under the meticulous gaze of the British Raj and realised through the cooperative largesse of princely states, this network bore witness to the romance of steam, the cadence of pistons, and the quiet dignity of human labour negotiating with iron and fire. Today, the rails are silent, their songs reduced to echoes in the imagination, their engines corroding in open-air mausoleums, yet the poetry they once exuded lingers — indelible and haunting.

Prelude to Iron: Sir Charles Napier and the Conquest of Sindh

General Sir Charles James Napier (1782–1853) — Image credit: Unknown artist, Cheshire Military Museum.

History of the railways in Sindh cannot be complete without mention of General Sir Charles James Napier, GCB — the British conqueror of Sindh and its first British administrator. Born in 1782, Napier had already distinguished himself in the Peninsular War before arriving in India under the aegis of the East India Company. In 1843, his forces defeated the Talpur Amirs at Miani and Hyderabad in Sindh, bringing the province of Sindh under British control.

As Governor of Sindh (1843 – 1847), Napier’s administration was marked by both reform and controversy. Yet even amidst his military and civic labours, Napier displayed unusual foresight: he advocated the laying of a railway line through Sindh as early as 1842, foreseeing its potential as a strategic corridor linking the Indus delta with the north-western frontier. Though he would not live to see its realisation, his vision anticipated the later Scinde Railway (1858–1861), which ultimately connected Karachi with Kotri — the province’s first iron artery.

Napier’s tenure thus forms the prologue to Sindh’s railway chronicle — the moment when conquest began to yield to the logistics of empire. The tracks that later stitched Hyderabad, Mirpur Khas, and Nawabshah to the desert rim were laid upon administrative and strategic foundations he had first conceived. When the first locomotive hissed upon the Sindh plains a decade after his death in 1853, it fulfilled a prophecy of progress that Napier had already envisioned.

Foundations of Ambition: Iron, Steam, and Empire

The enterprise began in the late nineteenth century, with the Victorian proclivity for order, precision, and the ostentatious demonstration of capability. In 1892, the British laid a broad-gauge line from Hyderabad to Shadipalli — modest in ambition yet pregnant with latent possibilities. By 1900, the metre-gauge metals stretched eastward to Jodhpur, binding the princely state into the latticework of imperial India. The Jodhpur Government, exercising sagacious calculation, proffered to extend a through metre-gauge connection westwards into Sindh, contingent upon the conversion of the Hyderabad–Shadipalli section. Acceptance followed, and on 20 October 1900, the through route opened — an exemplar of ars et ingenium in railway construction, and a sinew of the Sind Mail that carried correspondence, passengers, and the spirit of an empire between Bombay and Karachi.

To the north, the Mirpur Khas–Nawabshah line unfolded with deliberate, almost ceremonious, stages of construction: Mirpur Khas–Jhudo in 1909, extended to Khadro by 1912, reaching Pithoro Junction in 1935, and completed to Nawabshah Junction by 1939. Each kilometre laid was both a conduit for commerce and a testament to the meticulous foresight of engineers whose hands wrought permanence from steel and stone. Mirpur Khas, perched at the confluence of these lines, emerged as a fulcrum of operational significance — a place where engines rested, rakes were marshalled, and the faint perfume of coal smoke mingled with the arid Sindh breeze.

Cartographic Impression — The Metre-Gauge Arteries and the Pithoro–Jhudo Loop of Sindh and Jodhpur

This stylised heritage map delineates the historic Hyderabad–Mirpur Khas–Nawabshah–Jodhpur metre-gauge network, conceived and executed under the British Raj in concert with the Jodhpur State Railways. The principal arteries — from Hyderabad to Shadipalli (1892), thence eastward to Jodhpur (1900), and northward through Jhudo, Khadro, Pithoro and onward to Nawabshah (1939) — are represented in sepia and rust tones evocative of their age. Notably, the Pithoro Junction–Jhudo Junction horseshoe loop via Jamrao (c.1909–1935) is now highlighted, illustrating the engineering audacity and aesthetic flourish of the metre-gauge system. Minor halts and sidings appear as faint annotations, reflecting the once-lively rhythm of goods and passenger exchange.

The alignment shown conforms to the official boundaries recognised by the Republic of India. Any depiction of adjoining territories is solely illustrative of historic railway continuity and does not purport to define present-day political frontiers. The design thus remains faithful to Indian cartographic law whilst evoking the geographical imagination of the early twentieth-century subcontinent.

In this quiet cartouche, one perceives not mere geography but memory itself — the slow respiration of steam, the cadence of pistons, and the spectral path of the Sind Mail that once bound Bombay to Karachi through these sun-scorched plains. The horseshoe loop, in particular, evokes both the grandeur and meticulous calculation of engineers whose vision carved rhythm and poetry into the desert sands.

A reader may now trace, at leisure, the iron veins of Sindh — hover upon each station to summon the memories of steam, sand, and enterprise.

Interactive Map — Metre-Gauge Railways of Sindh and Jodhpur

For illustrative heritage reference only — alignments approximate to archival cartography.
© Dhinakar Rajaram, 2026
Bibliothèque Series — Memory, Steam, and the Indian Gaze

The Zenith of Steam: Locomotives, Loops, and Labour

At its apogee, the metre-gauge network sprawled over 517 kilometres — a lattice of iron sinews linking desert and town alike. The YD 2-8-2 locomotives, stout-hearted and enduring, laboured through the plains, their boilers hissing, pistons thumping, wheels churning with solemn diligence. Mirpur Khas, in particular, resounded with activity: the careful choreography of shunting, the rhythmic clicking of block instruments, the urgent whistle of signalmen — all forming a theatre of operational precision that would have delighted any disciple of praxis et disciplina.

And yet, it was not merely function that inspired admiration. The 180-degree horseshoe loop between Pithoro Junction and Jamrao Junction, spanning nearly 190 kilometres, was a triumph of audacity and aesthetic flourish. More spectacle than necessity, it nevertheless exemplified the Victorian and Edwardian appetite for grandeur — for engineering as artifice, and for an exhibition of the Empire’s mastery over terrain and metallurgy.

Tumult, Partition, and the Slow Death of Steam

The cataclysm of 1947 altered the course of the metre-gauge arteries irrevocably. Hyderabad–Khokhrapar, Mirpur Khas–Nawabshah, and Pithoro–Jamrao were absorbed into Pakistan Railways, yet their fortunes were already declining. The 1971 Indo-Pakistani War severed cross-border continuity; Munabao–Khokhrapar was uprooted, consigning the Thar Express to thirty-five years of dormancy. The inexorable advance of diesel traction, coupled with broad-gauge conversions elsewhere, rendered the venerable metre-gauge increasingly obsolete. Steam locomotives, once the sinews of regional commerce, endured a noble, if doomed, procession, until the final whistle sounded in 2005.

The Metre-Gauge Arteries of Sindh — Station Registry

A collation of principal stations from the Hyderabad–Jodhpur route, the Mirpur Khas–Nawabshah branch, and the celebrated Pithoro–Jhudo horseshoe loop.
Verified against official gazetteers and the Hyderabad–Khokhrapar Branch Line archival data.

I. Hyderabad – Jodhpur (Metre-Gauge Main Line)

No.	Station	Remarks
1	Hyderabad Junction	Southern terminus of the branch; junction with main system
2	Tando Jam	Early suburban stop near Hyderabad
3	Tando Allahyar	Market town and agricultural hub
4	Sultanabad	Intermediate station before Mirpur Khas
5	Mirpur Khas Junction	Operational hub of Sindh’s metre-gauge system
6	Jamrao Junction	Junction for the Pithoro–Jhudo horseshoe loop
7	Shadipalli	Historic gauge-conversion point (1892)
8	Pithoro Junction	Northern return of the loop; access to Nawabshah line
9	Dhoro Naro	Desert wayside station
10	Chhor / New Chhor	Historic cantonment halt on the desert fringe
11	Vasar Bah	Small halt; near border alignment
12	Hatala Halt	Minor desert stop before terminus
13	Khokhrapar	Historic frontier terminus near Indo–Pak border
14	Munabao (India)	Cross-border link to Jodhpur under pre-1947 through services
15	Jodhpur	Eastern terminus of the Jodhpur State Railway

II. Mirpur Khas – Nawabshah Metre-Gauge Branch

No.	Station	Historical Note
1	Mirpur Khas Junction	Origin of the northern branch
2	Khadro	Reached by 1912; key goods exchange
3	Shahpur Chakar	Important junction town on branch
4	Jam Sahib	Feeder point to regional estates
5	Nawabshah Junction	Northern terminus linking to Main Line 1

III. The Pithoro – Jhudo Horseshoe Loop (The Mirpur Khas Loop)

Constructed between 1909 and 1935, this audacious 180-degree alignment represented both engineering pragmatism and imperial flourish — an arc de fer across the Sindh sands.

• Mirpur Khas Junction — Origin of the loop; operational pivot
• Jamrao Junction — Divergence point; engine-exchange and marshalling yard
• Naukot — Intermediate halt amid desert flats
• Jhudo Junction — Southern vertex of the 180° loop
• Pithoro Junction — Northern return; rejoins the Hyderabad–Nawabshah corridor

Sources: Pakistan Railways Timetables (pre-2005), IRFCA Archives, Wikipedia (Hyderabad–Khokhrapar Branch Line), and contemporary railway cartography.
Data reconstructed for heritage reference — not for operational use.

Mirpur Khas and Nawabshah: Mausoleums of Memory

Mirpur Khas Junction now stands as a silent obelisk to a vanished age. Rust creeps insidiously over ironwork, tenders are void of coal, timber warps under the unrelenting sun, and coaches sag in melancholic repose. Yet imagination resurrects the theatre of activity: pilot engines turning upon their pins, goods rakes marshalled with solemn grace, the rhythmic tapping of block instruments, and the whistle of signalmen calling a cadence older than memory itself.

The northern line to Nawabshah, once a vital artery connecting the hinterland to Main Line 1, epitomises both the grandeur and fragility of the metre-gauge enterprise. What was a conduit of trade and communication now lies largely abandoned — a corridor of memory where rust et silence preside over the spoils of time.

The Thar Express: Twilight and Resurrection

Yet all is not extinguished. In 2006, the Thar Express was resurrected, linking Karachi with Jodhpur via Khokhrapar and Munabao. Pakistan’s conversion of the remaining metre-gauge section to broad gauge permitted through travel, preserving continuity yet consigning the era of steam to the annals of memory. Here, practicality and sentiment intersected: progress necessitated adaptation, even as it sounded the elegiac knell for the romance of coal-fired locomotion.

Historical Addendum: The Hyderabad–Badin Branch Line

The Hyderabad (Sindh) – Badin Branch Line — though a broad-gauge artery rather than metre-gauge — occupies a distinct niche in the rail heritage of Sindh. This 109-kilometre line, inaugurated on 15 August 1904 by the North Western State Railway, extended from Hyderabad Junction, Sindh southward to Badin, linking the fertile deltaic plains of southern Sindh with the main Karachi–Peshawar corridor.

Originally designed to facilitate both freight and passenger traffic, the line quickly became vital for the transport of rice, cotton, sugarcane, and other agricultural produce from the Badin district. Its stations — including Tando Muhammad Khan, Matli, Talhar, and Peeru Lishari — punctuated an otherwise arid landscape, forming a rhythmic chain of commerce and community life.

World War I interrupted its operations: the track was dismantled in 1917 as rails were requisitioned for the war effort. Yet the line’s strategic and economic value was undeniable, prompting its reconstruction and reopening in 1922. Thereafter, it endured as an indispensable branch of the North Western Railway and, after Partition, of Pakistan Railways.

For decades, the celebrated Badin Express served the route, ferrying traders, labourers, and travellers between Badin and Hyderabad. But as highways proliferated and revenues dwindled, the service declined. The branch was briefly revived in 2008 through local and federal initiatives, yet by 2020 it was finally closed to traffic, and in subsequent years the alignment was classified as abandoned.

Principal Stations (north to south)

• Hyderabad Junction, Sindh — Connection with main line 1
• Zeal Pak
• Husri
• Kathar
• Norai Sharif
• Ganja Takkar
• Tando Muhammad Khan
• Nizam Sama Halt
• Matli
• Hakamani Halt
• Talhar
• Peeru Lishari
• Yousaf Shah Halt
• Badin — Terminus and district headquarters

Timeline: 1904 – Opened | 1917 – Dismantled | 1922 – Rebuilt | 2008 – Partial Revival | 2020 – Closed to Service

A quiet epilogue to Sindh’s railway saga — a line of enterprise that rose, fell, and now lingers only in memory and dust.

Epilogue: Poetry of Rust and Steam

The metre-gauge railway of Sindh now survives in relics, photographs, and the collective imagination. Locomotives preserved in museums stand as stoic testaments to human ingenuity, while along the Mirpur Khas–Nawabshah corridor, rusted rails and sun-bleached timbers whisper of the cadence of pistons, the hiss of boilers, and the ghostly music of a lost world.

Carpe diem, yet memento mori: all things mortal, even iron and fire, are ephemeral. And yet, in the melancholy decay of the rails, in the quiet dignity of abandoned sidings, the metre-gauge steam railways of Sindh continue to speak — of ambition, perseverance, and the enduring poetry of human enterprise.

Glossary of Terms and Phrases

Metre-Gauge (MG): A track gauge of 1,000 mm (3 ft 3 ⅜ in) once prevalent in the Indian subcontinent, favoured for economy and adaptability across the Thar’s undulating terrain.
Broad-Gauge (BG): The 1,676 mm (5 ft 6 in) standard adopted for India’s national network; its introduction gradually rendered metre-gauge lines redundant.
Loop Line: A subsidiary track diverging from a main artery and returning to it — the Pithoro–Jhudo Horseshoe Loop being a classic example of both geometry and grace.
Junction: A station at which two or more routes converge or diverge, often housing locomotive sheds, signalling cabins, and yards of sidings.
Thar Express: The Indo–Pak service linking Karachi and Jodhpur via Khokhrapar and Munabao — revived in 2006 after four decades of silence.
Ars et Ingenium: Latin for “art and ingenuity,” a Victorian epithet celebrating mechanical artistry and discipline.
Arc de Fer: French for “arch of iron,” a figurative description of the Pithoro–Jhudo loop’s sweeping desert curve.
Praxis et Disciplina: Latin phrase meaning “practice and discipline” — a nod to the methodical ethos of British engineering in the subcontinent.

References and Suggestive Readings

Hyderabad–Khokhrapar Branch Line — Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyderabad–Khokhrapar_Branch_Line
Imperial Gazetteer of India (1909–1931 editions) — Volumes covering Sindh, Hyderabad, and Rajputana Railways.
Indian Railways Fan Club Association (IRFCA) Archives — Metre-Gauge and Steam Heritage compilations, 1980–2005.
Pakistan Railways Historical Timetables (Pre-1965 & Pre-2005 Editions) — Official working and public timetables of the metre-gauge era.
Hughes, Hugh. Indian Locomotives: Part 3 – Metre Gauge 1872–1940. Continental Railway Circle, 1990.
Railway Gazette (London) — Annual Reports of the Jodhpur–Bikaner and State Railways, 1890–1935.
Government of India, Ministry of Railways. Indian Railways Year Book (various issues).
Steam in the Desert — Sindh’s Vanishing Metre Gauge (Documentary, 1982). Archival footage: https://youtu.be/QPrbS6iTyeU

Compiled and annotated by Dhinakar Rajaram for the Bibliothèque Series — Memory, Steam, and the Indian Gaze.

...

Step aboard a vanishing age of hiss and smoke — witness Sindh’s 1982 metre-gauge steam odyssey, preserved only on YouTube:

https://youtu.be/QPrbS6iTyeU

All text, concepts, and visual material on this page are the intellectual property of the author, unless otherwise credited. No portion of this work may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, or adapted — in whole or in part — without express prior written consent of the copyright holder. Citations and academic references may be used fairly provided due credit is accorded to the original author and source. Unauthorised duplication, extraction, or commercial use of the content is a violation of applicable copyright and moral rights legislation under Indian and international law.

Published as part of the Bibliothèque Series, exploring intersections of memory, machinery, and the Indian gaze upon history and science.

#WhispersOfSteam #SindhRailways #MetreGauge #SteamAge #IndustrialArchaeology #RustAndMemory #BibliothequeSeries #DhinakarRajaram #IndianGaze #HeritageRails #VintageMechanics #ColonialEngineering

Wednesday, 3 September 2025

An edible enterprise where Tamil Nadu’s culinary canon moonlights as corporate hierarchy.

🍲 From Madras to Kanyakumari: Tamil Nadu’s Culinary Corporate Hierarchy

The corporate world, with its sterile jargon of “synergy,” “deliverables,” and “stakeholders,” often forgets that hierarchies existed long before PowerPoint. In truth, every Tamil dining hall has long operated as a functioning corporation — its organisational chart etched not in Excel sheets, but upon banana leaves.

Thus, let us traverse from Madras to Kanyakumari, mapping Tamil Nadu’s glorious vegetarian repertoire into exalted corporate designations, each morsel invested with Tharoorian grandiloquence.

👑 Executive Apex

Filter Coffee – Chief Executive Officer (Madras)
Potent, aromatic, galvanising — the caffeinated sovereign propelling the organisational juggernaut.
Banana Leaf Meal – Chairperson, Board of Trustees (Pan-Tamil)
Encyclopaedic, holistic, and rooted in tradition — delivering end-to-end employee experience with cultural rootedness.

🏛 C-Suite

Curd Rice – Chief Wellness & Mindfulness Officer
A serenely cooling denouement, pacifying inflammations and restoring equipoise.
Payasam – Chief Happiness Officer (Kumbakonam, Palakkad influence)
The dulcet morale-booster, ensuring every shareholder departs smiling.
Puliyodarai – Chief Communications Strategist (Srirangam/Thanjavur)
Tangy, piquant, unforgettable — stamping itself indelibly upon the collective palate.

📊 Vice Presidents & Directors

Sambar – Director of Synergy & Integration (Madras kitchens)
A confluence of stakeholders (vegetables, lentils, condiments) orchestrated into cohesion.
Avial – Director of Diversity & Inclusion (Kongu belt & Travancore fringes)
Multifarious vegetables in creamy unity, celebrating harmonious heterogeneity.
Kuzhambu – Director of Strategic Planning (Delta heartlands)
The gravitas-laden anchor, adaptable to infinite contexts.
Rasam – Director of Crisis Response (Tirunelveli pepper trail)
A peppery elixir, reviving the jaded in moments of enervation.
Pongal – Director of Fiscal Prudence (Margazhi & temple kitchens)
Stability and balance incarnate, with the occasional cashew dividend.

🛠 Middle Management

Upma – Operations Manager (Madras households)
Maligned for banality, yet steadfastly efficacious.
Vatha Kuzhambu – Risk Manager (Delta kitchens)
Pungent, potent, and cautionary — managing exposure with spice.
Kootu – Compliance Officer (Everyday ubiquity)
Bland yet necessary, keeping the system honest.
Poriyal – Performance Appraisal Officer (Kongu crispness)
Crisp, clear, and to the point.
Mor Kuzhambu – Conflict Resolution Officer (Western districts)
Cooling tempers with buttermilk diplomacy.
Sodhi – Innovation Catalyst (Tirunelveli specialty)
A lighter cousin of kuzhambu, experimental yet rooted.

👥 Team Leaders

Dosa – Brand Strategist (Madras tiffin icons)
Diaphanous, elongated, endlessly versatile.
Uttapam – Product Innovation Lead (Kanchipuram–Tanjore belt)
A foundational platform with toppings as modular add-ons.
Chettinad Kuruma – Strategic Alliance Head (Chettinad fiery kitchens)
Fiery and flamboyant, cultivating collaborations.
Kuzhi Paniyaram – Team Engagement Officer (Kongu–Chettinad snacks)
Bite-sized bursts of enthusiasm at every huddle.
Ragi Kali – Sustainability Head (Madurai, Tirunelveli, rural hearths)
Hardy, wholesome, eco-conscious.
Kambu Koozh – Labour Welfare Officer (Dry-zone Kancheepuram to Salem)
Nourishing, egalitarian, rooted in agrarian ethics.

👨‍💻 Associates & Probationers

Idli – Probationary Associate (Madras to Madurai ubiquity)
Soft-spoken, reliable, universally acceptable.
Kanchipuram Idli – Heritage Preservation Associate (Temple-town)
Retaining gravitas in its seasoning.
Thengai Sadam (Coconut Rice) – Communications Associate (Coastal kitchens)
Gentle, fragrant, persuasive.
Lemon Rice – Event Executive (Railway lunch-boxes & temples)
Bright, zesty, leaving an impression.
Milagai Podi – Audit & Vigilance Associate (Every canteen flask)
Fiery powder ensuring accountability with every dip.

🎓 Interns

Vada – Security Intern (Madras sabha canteens)
Crunchy, circular, guarding against monotony.
Thayir Pachadi – Counsellor Intern (Banana leaf companions)
Cooling tempers and sharp tongues alike.
Vegetable Biryani (Tamil-style, not Hyderabadi interloper) – Change Management Intern
Ambitious, layered, and occasionally misunderstood.
Jigarthanda – Brand Intern (Madurai’s quixotic concoction)
Quirky, ambitious, and eternally photogenic.

🌸 Epilogue: Bureaucracy on a Banana Leaf

From Madras to Kanyakumari, the Tamil culinary canon provides not just nourishment, but a veritable MBA curriculum in disguise. Where the corporate world preaches “stakeholder synergy” and “conflict resolution,” the banana leaf had already perfected these arts centuries ago.

So, the next time your HR department drones about “optimisation,” console yourself with a steaming tumbler of filter kaapi, and remember: your company’s hierarchy has always been present, plated lovingly, on a banana leaf.

Tuesday, 30 September 2025