Horse Cents

Sorry, Sir, Could I Use Mastercard Instead?

Photographs copyright: DAVID McMAHON

In late 2006 we found ourselves in India unexpectedly, on a completely unplanned trip. I was only in Calcutta for little over a week, but managed to devote some carefully chosen hours to photographing the city where I was born.

It was the third week of October and while the humidity was still high, the early-morning mists were just rolling in, heralding the onset of cooler weather.

I was shooting a series of dawn shots along the Strand, by the banks of the Hooghly River, when I decided to make my way to the racecourse nearby.

The Royal Calcutta Turf Club was one of my father’s favourite weekend haunts and to honour his memory, I was compelled to walk across the road to shoot some scenes from a venue he knew so well. I shot the grandstand, the straight, the wooden rails, the final bend – and then I noticed that a couple of racehorses had completed trackwork and were being walked by their handlers towards the Hastings stables.

In the distance was the Victoria Memorial, one of the greatest symbols of this 300-year-old city. (You can view some of my other photographs of the wonderful building here.)

Would I be able to shoot the VM (as the splendid marble edifice is popularly known) over the saddle of one of the racehorses? One short sprint later, I was able to convince the horse’s handler that I was not daft (Mrs Authorblog might not agree) and that all I wanted was an unusual photograph.

All of sixty seconds later, I was done. But the handler was in no hurry. I thanked him a second time and put the lens cap back on my camera. Then I realised he wanted a tip. I rapidly computed the value of the rupees in my wallet and realised he would get an infinitely good deal because I had no small-denomination notes.

Money changed hands. Honour was restored. Handler and racehorse departed towards the stables.

Dad, if you were alive, you would smile at this closing line – but let’s just say I was the second generation of our clan to lose money on the thoroughbreds here at the Calcutta racecourse.


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C Is For Chariot

You Think You Can Take Me For A Ride?

Photographs copyright: DAVID McMAHON

The next time you're stuck for transport, this is the chariot I'd recommend. I saw this opposite the Victoria Memorial in Calcutta when I was there in October 2006. Yes, I know you're going to ask me the logical question - did Mrs Authorblog and I take a ride in it?

Er, the answer is no. It was early morning and Mrs Authorblog wasn't with me as I meandered around the city with my camera. And besides, I couldn't see the owner/operator of the carriage, or the horse that would normally be tethered to the shaft.

Yes, I can anticipate your next question too. You want to know if there was evidence that the horse had been in the vicinity? Yep. Did I step in it? Nope, because I'm older and wiser now. Well, older, anyway. Y'know.

Which makes a change from the time I stepped in moose dung in Muskoka. But that's another story - and you can read all about my adventure/misadventure at Bear The Brunt Of It. Luckily I was on my own at the time, else I would have been given the third degree. Or maybe even the turd degree.

Bronze Meddle

The Strange Truth About The Shiny Cherubs

Photographs copyright: DAVID McMAHON

The photograph of this bronze cherub is a follow-up to my post yesterday, Victoria Across, a photo feature about the Victoria Memorial in Calcutta. Take a close look at the photo (above) of a bronze cherub in the grounds of the museum and tourist attraction. Notice anything strange about the shot?

Yes, you're right. The area around the cheeks of the cherub are shiny, but the rest of the face is dull and the bronze has turned black with age and exposure. Strange, isn't it? It's not just one cherub. There are quite a few of them in one area, and each cherub shows exactly the same symptoms.

I was about ten years old when I first spotted this strange fact. It was during a school excursion and I was completely intrigued by the sight. What on earth would cause a certain portion of the bronze to remain shiny while the rest of the cherub was in stark contrast? There had to be a very specific explanation. Well, read on ....

I watched the cherubs very carefully for the next half an hour or so. Then I saw a group of adult tourists approaching. I watched as they began to admire the cherubs. And then the answer became patently clear to me as I watched what they did next.

Allow me to digress for a second. Children are very special in Indian culture and when grown-ups greet a child, a very common and acceptable gesture is for the adult to reach out with thumb and fingers spread and caress the cheeks of the child. The adult's thumb caresses the right cheek, while the fingers are spread across the left cheek.

Yep, that's what I saw all those years ago. The group admired the beauty of the cherubs and one by one they stretched out their hands to - you guessed it - lovingly and tenderly rub the cheeks of each cherub.

So the next time you visit the Victoria Memorial, you'll know exactly what causes this phenomenon. It's so cheeky, but so true.

Victoria Across

Calcutta's Answer To The Taj Mahal

Photographs copyright: DAVID McMAHON

With this week's Photo Hunt theme being "old-fashioned" it is my very great privilege to take you on a tour of the Victoria Memorial in Calcutta (now Kolkata). This shot (above) was taken in late October 2006, shortly after 7.30 in the morning, before the sun had burnt off the mist that shrouds the city like a veil of antique lace. There is an ethereal beauty to this extraordinary landmark of the city where I was born and I have to admit I had a lump in my throat when I pressed the shutter to capture this scene.


The Victoria Memorial is a white marble building that was built between 1906 and 1921. Mate, there are palaces around the world that aren't as majestic as this place. The huge angel atop the central dome is called the Angel of Victory. It's made of bronze and has ball bearings beneath its pedestal because it serves as a graceful weather vane. Yes, it still turns, despite its massive weight.


This is part of the ornate gateway (above) leading into the parkland that surrounds the Victoria Memorial. It was built to honour Queen Victoria, who was the Empress of India until her death in 1901. Calcuttans refer to it as the "VM" and the bus conductors - in that wonderful quirky telegraphic language of theirs - call it "Toria Moria".


This shot (above) was taken inside the grounds, as I walked across the vast moats that surround the expanse of parkland. When I was very little, my Dad (who knew everything about everything) told me that the moats were not just decorative and that they were designed in keeping with the foundations of the building.


This was the last shot (above) I took in the sequence that morning. I had walked back to a friend's car. I mopped my brow in the humidity and sank into the back seat of his Mercedes, my camera bag at my feet. "Finished?" he asked me. I nodded. I was done - and I was exhausted. He started the car but before he could move, I yelled out to him not to put it into drive. He looked at me as if I was mad. I reached for my camera, took the lens cap off and shot this final frame of the Victoria Memorial reflected in his wing mirror.