Once home to a bustling population of Armenian traders, Armanitola—the Armenian Quarter of Old Dhaka is a fine repository of history and culture, reinforcing the strong bond between Bengal and Armenia
By Raul Dias
I’m pretty sure that I must have made quite a spectacle of myself that sweltering summer afternoon in Dhaka, waving a soiled 100 Taka note in front of scores of bewildered noses walking past me. Even my pithy attempt at mouthing a few Bengali words, seemed to fall on deaf ears. But finally—after almost giving up any remaining hope—my phone’s wavering GPS decided to kick into action. And thus, I found myself standing in front of a structure I had been staring at every time I coughed up a 100 Taka note over my previous two days in Bangladesh.
To put it all into context, I had made the trek down the dusty alleyways of Old Dhaka with the sole aim of visiting the rather unusual Tara Masjid. For the iconic and ironically named “Star Mosque” finds a place of glory for itself on the ‘tails’ side of a 100 Taka bank note. All this thanks to its four domes that are decorated in the rare Chini Tikri (Chinese art) porcelain tile mosaic work in star motifs.
But little did I know then that that wonderful thing called serendipity had something entirely different planned out for me…
The Other Armani!
Unbeknownst to me, I had meandered my way into Old Dhaka’s Armenian quarter. Called Armanitola, the small neighbourhood on the shores of the turgid Buriganga river was once the nerve center of Armenian life in East Bengal. For this was where jute and leather traders from the South Caucasian country in Eurasia decided to set up both shop and home.
And just a mere 300 meters south of Tara Masjid, is what is believed to be the ‘Ground Zero’ of this unique quarter. Simply called the Armenian Church, the Armenian Apostolic Church of the Holy Resurrection was built in 1781 by the traders on a plot of land that they had earlier used as a cemetery.
This edifice, with its hexagonal, crucifix-topped steeple and generous narthex reminded me not just of St. Peter’s Armenian Apostolic Church in my home city of Mumbai, but also of the similarly-structured Armenian Holy Church of Nazareth in nearby Kolkata. But besides Mumbai, Kolkata and other places in West Bengal like Saidabad, even a few other Indian cities like Chennai once had a thriving Armenian population and grand churches to cater to the growing congregation that had been settling in India since the 16th century.
Blast from the past
It is weeks after I return from Bangladesh, as I leaf through a copy of the Anne Basil authored Armenian Settlements in India at Mumbai’s Asiatic Library, do I realise that there was not one, but two separate waves of an Armenian exodus to India (which Bangladesh was a part of then). The first of which was in 1645 with the aforementioned merchants arriving in Bengal, purely for trading purposes. Interestingly, the book even references an agreement of 1688 between the English East India Company and Armenian merchants that reads “whenever forty or more of the Armenian nation shall become inhabitants in any of the garrisons, cities or towns belonging to the Company in the East Indies, the said Armenians shall not only have and enjoy the free use and exercise of their religion, but there shall also be allotted to them a parcel of ground to erect a church thereon…”
It was the second exodus, however, that is the most poignant. As it was in the wake of the 1915 East Anatolia Armenian genocide of more than a million people by Turkish forces. In fact, Basil even speaks of “hundreds of children of uprooted families…found shelter and a roof and received sufficient education…” at the Armenian College and Philanthropic Academy in Kolkata, that is to this day very much functional and a source of pride for the city’s small Armenian diaspora.
Sentinels of Solemnity
Back at the church at Armanitola, Hafiz, the old watchman who had let me in earlier tells me the story of the last Armenian in Bangladesh. All this in broken English bolstered by his wild gesticulating, of course! Apparently, up until 2014 Mikel Housep Martirossian the Dhaka-born son of an Armenian jute trader was not just the caretaker of the Armenian Church but also its sole congregant who would say his daily prayers sitting quietly in the first pew. After a stroke five years ago, he moved to Canada at the behest of his children who live there and was never heard of again.
But there is some hope for the Church, I am told. The Armenian Embassy in Dhaka that looks after its upkeep has hinted at the possibility of getting down a new warden for the church from Armenia. Till then, it’s up to Hafiz to keep the fires burning. Quite literally, as he lights the altar candles daily at 7pm.
As I leave the church gates, I make sure to squeeze a small tip into Hafiz’s wrinkled palm. And yes, it was one of those same 100 Taka notes that started it all!
(This article first appeared in the 22nd February 2020 issue of the Mint Lounge newspaper, India on page 17 https://www.livemint.com/mint-lounge/features/the-stars-of-dhaka-s-armanitola-11582468772877.html)
By Raul Dias
I’m pretty sure that I must have made quite a spectacle of myself that sweltering summer afternoon in Dhaka, waving a soiled 100 Taka note in front of scores of bewildered noses walking past me. Even my pithy attempt at mouthing a few Bengali words, seemed to fall on deaf ears. But finally—after almost giving up any remaining hope—my phone’s wavering GPS decided to kick into action. And thus, I found myself standing in front of a structure I had been staring at every time I coughed up a 100 Taka note over my previous two days in Bangladesh.
To put it all into context, I had made the trek down the dusty alleyways of Old Dhaka with the sole aim of visiting the rather unusual Tara Masjid. For the iconic and ironically named “Star Mosque” finds a place of glory for itself on the ‘tails’ side of a 100 Taka bank note. All this thanks to its four domes that are decorated in the rare Chini Tikri (Chinese art) porcelain tile mosaic work in star motifs.
But little did I know then that that wonderful thing called serendipity had something entirely different planned out for me…
The Other Armani!
Unbeknownst to me, I had meandered my way into Old Dhaka’s Armenian quarter. Called Armanitola, the small neighbourhood on the shores of the turgid Buriganga river was once the nerve center of Armenian life in East Bengal. For this was where jute and leather traders from the South Caucasian country in Eurasia decided to set up both shop and home.
And just a mere 300 meters south of Tara Masjid, is what is believed to be the ‘Ground Zero’ of this unique quarter. Simply called the Armenian Church, the Armenian Apostolic Church of the Holy Resurrection was built in 1781 by the traders on a plot of land that they had earlier used as a cemetery.
This edifice, with its hexagonal, crucifix-topped steeple and generous narthex reminded me not just of St. Peter’s Armenian Apostolic Church in my home city of Mumbai, but also of the similarly-structured Armenian Holy Church of Nazareth in nearby Kolkata. But besides Mumbai, Kolkata and other places in West Bengal like Saidabad, even a few other Indian cities like Chennai once had a thriving Armenian population and grand churches to cater to the growing congregation that had been settling in India since the 16th century.
Blast from the past
It is weeks after I return from Bangladesh, as I leaf through a copy of the Anne Basil authored Armenian Settlements in India at Mumbai’s Asiatic Library, do I realise that there was not one, but two separate waves of an Armenian exodus to India (which Bangladesh was a part of then). The first of which was in 1645 with the aforementioned merchants arriving in Bengal, purely for trading purposes. Interestingly, the book even references an agreement of 1688 between the English East India Company and Armenian merchants that reads “whenever forty or more of the Armenian nation shall become inhabitants in any of the garrisons, cities or towns belonging to the Company in the East Indies, the said Armenians shall not only have and enjoy the free use and exercise of their religion, but there shall also be allotted to them a parcel of ground to erect a church thereon…”
It was the second exodus, however, that is the most poignant. As it was in the wake of the 1915 East Anatolia Armenian genocide of more than a million people by Turkish forces. In fact, Basil even speaks of “hundreds of children of uprooted families…found shelter and a roof and received sufficient education…” at the Armenian College and Philanthropic Academy in Kolkata, that is to this day very much functional and a source of pride for the city’s small Armenian diaspora.
Sentinels of Solemnity
Back at the church at Armanitola, Hafiz, the old watchman who had let me in earlier tells me the story of the last Armenian in Bangladesh. All this in broken English bolstered by his wild gesticulating, of course! Apparently, up until 2014 Mikel Housep Martirossian the Dhaka-born son of an Armenian jute trader was not just the caretaker of the Armenian Church but also its sole congregant who would say his daily prayers sitting quietly in the first pew. After a stroke five years ago, he moved to Canada at the behest of his children who live there and was never heard of again.
But there is some hope for the Church, I am told. The Armenian Embassy in Dhaka that looks after its upkeep has hinted at the possibility of getting down a new warden for the church from Armenia. Till then, it’s up to Hafiz to keep the fires burning. Quite literally, as he lights the altar candles daily at 7pm.
As I leave the church gates, I make sure to squeeze a small tip into Hafiz’s wrinkled palm. And yes, it was one of those same 100 Taka notes that started it all!
(This article first appeared in the 22nd February 2020 issue of the Mint Lounge newspaper, India on page 17 https://www.livemint.com/mint-lounge/features/the-stars-of-dhaka-s-armanitola-11582468772877.html)
No comments:
Post a Comment