This article contains images of dead bodies In the weeks before the British left colonial India in the summer of 1947, Ken Miln fished as he always did on the Hooghly river outside Calcutta. He was 11 years old and in a dinghy with boatmen, concentrating on hooking a big catch. Dead bodies floated past. Using the butt of his fishing rod, he pushed one away.

That may sound awful but we got that used to seeing bodies, not only in the river but on the streets.”

Ken with a catch from the river

“In Calcutta and in the bazaar, the place at times was littered with bodies - children's bodies, too. So a dead body, although an awful thing, didn't really terrify me.” Ken's parents were from Dundee and were known as jute wallahs. They ran the jute mills around Calcutta, where stems from jute plants were processed ready to be turned into rope or woven into sacking. They'd been living in India since 1923. Home was in a compound with other British families, surrounded by three high walls. The remaining side led directly to the Hooghly river.

Ken's parents

Just outside the compound was a bazaar, with its fresh fish and food stalls, fakirs (religious people), and sound of loud Bengali music. Elephants and water buffaloes would drink from the Hooghly. Ken was told not to go down to the river, but from an early age spent most of his time there. He would also take part in daily baat sessions - conversations with his family's Muslim and Hindu servants. They would then sit on the back verandah gossiping, and reminiscing about life in their home towns. The first words Ken spoke were Hindi - taught by his beloved nanny, or ayah, called Bhutia. “My first memory was the smell of Bhutia. Her cotton sari usually had the smell of mustard oil, which most Bengalis spread over their body. I grew up with that smell. It eased me," he says.

Ken with Bhutia (seated)

Every other day, Ken ventured outside the compound to the bazaar. He would visit the stalls with local Bengali boys. Close by, there was an ornate mosque and two Hindu temples. “I can't recall any animosity,” he says.

Ken with local children