The Machinery of Memory

In the annals of Indian industry, the name Kirloskar carries undeniable weight. It conjures up images of mechanical ingenuity and the entrepreneurial grit that helped shape Maharashtra’s industrial landscape. But lurking in its shadow is another name - Jambhekar, less celebrated, yet equally vital in the saga of India’s industrial and social evolution. Pragya Jambhekar’s Yantrikachya Sawalya (loosely translated as In the Shadows of Machinery) seeks to redress this historical oversight, unearthing the overlooked contributions of four key members of the Jambhekar family whose lives were deeply intertwined with the political and industrial currents of their time.

At its core, the book is an expansive family biography, yet it defies the narrow confines of the genre. It is part industrial history, part political chronicle and part intimate portrait of individuals whose stories might otherwise have been lost to time. Jambhekar’s narrative unfolds across the last two decades of the nineteenth century and into the tumultuous years of India’s independence movement, painting a compelling picture of a family that was not only embedded in the rise of Indian industry but also played a role in the nation’s socio-political transformation.

The book’s principal protagonist, Shambhorao Jambhekar, was the lesser-known but indispensable partner in the early success of the Kirloskar Group. Trained as an engineer at Mumbai’s VJTI College, he was at the forefront of the firm’s growth during its formative years in Sangli, where Laxmanrao Kirloskar and his associates set up operations after being displaced by the plague epidemic. His journey - marked by persistence, technical ingenuity and a profound sense of social responsibility - makes for a riveting read. Jambhekar does not romanticize his subject but presents him as a pragmatic entrepreneur who navigated the precarious industrial environment of pre-independence India with foresight and resilience.

Shambhorao’s wife, Gangabai, was a formidable figure in her own right. A skilled midwife, she provided maternal care at a time when such services were scarce, performing over 3,500 deliveries without the aid of modern medical facilities. Her story, often eclipsed by the industrial exploits of her male counterparts, offers a poignant glimpse into the unsung labour of women who shaped their communities in quiet but indelible ways.

Then there is Ramakrishna Jambhekar, Shambhorao’s son, who took a radically different path. Fired by the revolutionary fervour of his time, he abandoned his studies at Fergusson College to join Gandhi’s Sabarmati Ashram before aligning himself with the Communist Party of India in 1929. His years of imprisonment under British rule, his labour activism and his role in negotiating a factory strike at Kirloskar’s - where he stood on one side as the workers’ representative and his father on the other as management - add a dramatic layer to the book.

Perhaps the most intriguing of the four protagonists is Suhasini Jambhekar Chattopadhyay, a pioneering communist and the first woman to join the Communist Party of India. Her political activism took her from India to Russia and later to Hungary, where she witnessed the global leftist movements firsthand. She moved through spaces traditionally dominated by men, challenging not just colonial rule but also the gendered norms that sought to confine women’s roles in both political and industrial spheres.

What elevates this book beyond a standard historical account is the meticulous research and personal investment of its author. As the fourth-generation descendant of Shambhorao’s elder brother, Pragya Jambhekar is not merely a chronicler but a custodian of family memory. Her prose is crisp and evocative, balancing historical rigor with storytelling flair. She unearths long-forgotten letters and rare photographs.

The book also shines in its ability to juxtapose micro and macro histories. Through the lives of the Jambhekars, it illuminates broader themes: the tension between industry and labour, the intersection of entrepreneurship and nationalism and the often-overlooked role of women in both spheres. Anecdotes - such as Pandit Nehru’s visit to Kirloskarwadi or Ramakrishna’s encounters with Mao and Zhou Enlai in Beijing - serve as portals into the larger political and industrial crosscurrents that shaped twentieth-century India.

Yantrikachya Sawalya ultimately is a reclamation project. It reminds us that history is often written by the victors, by the famous names that endure, while others equally instrumental, fade into obscurity. By bringing the Jambhekar family’s contributions to light, the book compels us to reconsider whose names deserve to be etched into the grand narrative of India’s industrial and political history.

(The author is Chairman of Saraswat Bank.)