STATION 2
Welcome to Marktplatz, Heidelberg’s central square and the second stop on our path. As you stand here, please consider:
What kind of baggage does a city carry from its history? And what, within this, might be the baggage of a museum like the Völkerkundemuseum here in Heidelberg?
STATION 2
The red purse on the left brings about the smell of cinnamon and the miswak. The pillow bag looks like something Arabic. It brings about memories of my visit to Salah El Din Castle in Cairo
My grandmothers use those small bags to keep children’s milk teeth, it could be quite frightening to see teeth stored there
The object on the right-hand side reminds me of Victorian-era fashion. Given how many aspects of South Asian life were ‘transferred’/taken from that region and appropriated by the British, I would not be surprised if there is a connection between purses like these and Western aesthetics.
I remembered my grandmother’s hands. She always gave me handwoven knits and pouches like right photos. When I was younger, I didn’t really like those handmade items. But now, I sometimes find myself using them. Maybe it’s because I’ve come to develop more imagination about the surroundings.
This brass or copper hanging pouch, suspended from two chains and adorned with intricate patterns, evokes something ceremonial and sacred.
The Bag That Hung at Dida’s Door
It reminds me of the small brass pouch that hung from a nail beside my grandmother’s bed—a pouch that no one dared touch without permission. It wasn’t used for shopping or storage. It held other things: the key to the puja room, camphor, the first tulsi leaf of the day, folded rupee notes for offerings, and sometimes a torn photo of her mother.
When I was a child, I thought it was magical—how something so small could carry so much. Dida said it was not the object but what it knew. That little pouch had heard prayers whispered in the morning and curses muttered after power cuts. It had seen her laugh, fast, cry, survive.
Now, seeing this object behind glass, I think of how many doors it must have hung beside. How many hands reached into it gently. I wonder if this one too carries stories folded inside, waiting to be remembered.
Cloth pouches were perfect for loose change! I still carry some of these wherever I go because they look adorable :”)
They would also smell very nice even after many years of using them!
When I started collecting antiques, my teacher gave me a small purse with two old copper coins in it. The structure was just like the one on the upper left but without colouring.
Drawstring pouches are what the inherited silver toerings and bracelets are passed down in. Now there is a plastic box keeping each ring and bracelet safe, but together they are still enclosed in a drawstring pouch.
STATION 2
When I started collecting antiques, my teacher gave me a small purse with two old copper coins in it. The structure was just like the one on the upper left but without colouring.
Drawstring pouches are what the inherited silver toerings and bracelets are passed down in. Now there is a plastic box keeping each ring and bracelet safe, but together they are still enclosed in a drawstring pouch.
The upper left one reminds me of my grandmother’s kitchen. She had a few similar baskets. Some of them had handles that allowed them to hang from the ceiling. She often grabbed them down from the ropes and fetched things. She also kept her bracelet in one of them. Others were used for washing, shopping, etc. We made them ourselves along with straw hats and bamboo ware. Hence, it reminds me of the scene where a group of females, young and old, sit in the courtyard and make these out of straws, bamboo, or reed.
The metal clutch/ bag looks exactly like a clutch i had bought from a flea market in Mumbai. The market is called Chor Bazar that often carry many of these bags along with old record players, furniture, vinyl records, clocks etc. I think i bought the bag for around 150 Rupees and i used it as a bad that i wore to more formal events. One of my friends also bought a similar clutch/ bag for her sister and got her sisters name engraved on it by a man who did that at the chor bazar. I unfortunately lost the bag while moving from Mumbai to Germany.
I’m not sure if I have seen these exact kinds of potlis filled with spices, but whenever I think of spices, I can feel the smell of lal mirch or red chilli powder — it’s slightly sharp and very distinct scent that can sting in your nose if you inhale it too close to the spice. And that red chilli scent somehow also makes me think again of my grandparents home where sometimes red chillies would be crushed physically to make the powder. Thinking about spices makes me think either this, or brings to my mind the scent of garam masala, perhaps because I like its scent and so whenever I’m cooking, I would often just take a slight sniff of garam masala from its small container.
Not really.
My naniji (grandmother) and so also my mom and my aunt collect these purses not with the intention of taking them out rather to divide their cash savings in different places. These purses then are tucked away in different parts of the wardrobe, sometimes even different rooms.