We Indians are inordinately proud of our history and never miss a chance to hold forth about our glorious culture and heritage. India is not just a country or nation — it is a civilisation; this is what we are taught and this is what we wear on our sleeves, often not so lightly when we talk to the rest of the world.

As evidence, we point to the scores, nay hundreds and thousands, of wonderful monuments that dot the land and speak of our collective history.
Yet, these monuments are poorly maintained. Most lie in benign neglect or are in disrepair. During a recent tour of the western Maharashtra coast, I saw fine old Portuguese forts from the 16th century in a miserable state. One Mumbai businessman had audaciously built a bungalow in one of them, incorporating the gateway as well as other features of the fort.
The various agencies charged with looking after our monuments simply do not have the resources, the skills or the interest. The “Honey loves Sunny” graffiti engraved on solid stone is a reminder of our lackadaisical attitude. And our usual reaction upon seeing this kind of vandalisation is to blame and curse the government.
However, is it only the government that is at fault? Or are we, as citizens, completely devoid of any respect for our history, old and new? Do we really care about our heritage? Researchers often find state archives in a poor way; but shockingly, even the private sector is no better, as I found out recently.
While researching for a book I went to a studio in an old part of Mumbai. The board proudly claimed the studio had opened in 1940. I was looking for pictures from 1972. The owner was a friendly sort and vaguely recalled the event whose pictures I wanted. But he was apologetic: “Sorry sir, I simply do not have those photographs”. He seemed embarrassed and when I persisted he informed me that some years ago all the negatives that they had stored from 1940s onwards were found to have been eaten up by white ants. There was no hope of saving them and a decision was taken to throw them all. It was a shame, he agreed, but there was nothing he could do.
Cursing my luck, I went to another studio, an even older one. This particular establishment was well known for its portraits of prominent citizens of what was then called Bombay, taken as far back as in the 1930s.
The story here was even more heart-rending. Apparently, some five years ago, the young, US-educated scion of the family had taken over the company and put into practice new efficiency and profit-enhancing measures. He took stock of inventory, personnel and space and one day announced that all the negatives and plates from 1935 onwards had to be disposed off to generate more working area for his expansion plans. This they did by burning the whole lot.
I am sure there are readers who will react just the way I did; with shock. The manager who told me this was in tears.
This kind of attitude is par for the course. For one thing we do not understand is that the recent is as much history as the ancient. The world over, memorabilia — pictures, postcards, leaflets and such like — of the 20th century are invaluable, not only as collectibles but also as social history. Auction houses routinely sell such things for huge prices. Collectors will pay top dollar for old pictures.
Why blame these studio owners alone? They at least have the excuse of not having the wherewithal to store and manage their archives. Others are no better. The shoddy condition of film prints in the vaults of many film producers is nothing short of a scandal.
Some of the biggest and oldest film companies (I won’t give names here) have lost classics because the celluloid has been ruined. Without the negatives it is well nigh impossible to make new prints and many an international film festival has turned down the prints offered to them because they are of a low quality. The last remaining print of India’s first talkie, Alam Ara, was destroyed in a fire in the National Film Archives of India in Pune in 2003. That is carelessness of the highest degree.
Doordarshan, I understand, has taped over old videos of performances by great artistes including Begum Akhtar.
Our corporate sector is no better. They have the money, but not the inclination or even the knowledge. Company archives in most cases are a shambles; one senior manager of an organisation with a fine pedigree told me that their policy was to throw out old literature (photos, brochures, files etc) every January as part of spring cleaning.
The only breed that looks after old things are collectors. The more serious ones will invest in storage systems to look after photographs, posters, films and records. But there is a limit to how much they can do.
The state takes hardly any interest in preserving modern history — in our race to become another Shanghai, Mumbai has not yet bothered to even make a museum of its textile industry.
Why should this matter? Because all this is part of our patrimony. Future generations will grow up without any record or knowledge of the social history of India. They will get to know their past and heritage by reading it on Wikipedia. Even today, a historian who wants to study India and would like to access old newspapers and magazines is better off accessing an international university or museum which has lovingly stored and guarded such material from around the world.
Our own understanding of history comes from what we read in school or what we picked up from comic books. The other reason is that we expect the government to do everything. Why spend good money on silly things like creating an air-conditioned room to store film prints? With this attitude it is not surprising that our contemporary history is in danger of being lost. And without such history, we will always remain a poorer people, even if we end up becoming an economic or military superpower.

Sidharth Bhatia is a senior journalist and commentator on current affairs based in Mumbai