the sun never sets on the british empire

Should I be ashamed of being a colonial at heart? Or should i be proud of the Lutyen's Delhi bungalow up-bringing, the high standard of education, the intimacy with the ayahs of my childhood - she's really clean you know!
Should I be afraid to admit that when the Raj was over, there were the higher echelons of Indian civil servants to take their place, to produce and reproduce the inequalities that we all lived with, happily and unquestioningly, a bunch of brown sahibs playing squash in the Gymkhana?
Should I be proud of the grandfather who threw bombs at the British, got imprisoned; the grandmother who disguised herself in a burkha to carry tiffin to her lover under the watchful eyes of many subedars?
Should I be thankful to the other grandfather whose indifference to the oppressor gave me, in legacy, a sunny childhood, in a colony of many low hedges and no walls, a place that now comes to mind when I wait for night buses on Abbey Road; the assurance that my mother only had to say the word and the maid-servant would leave her children in the servant's quarter, bawling or shitting, and come change my dress;
A childhood full of the firm belief that I am superior to many that I interact with daily, because I know the meaning of 'extempore', sing in the choir in carmel convent school, and am going to go to vilayt/bilayt one day, as the only logical conclusion to my tale of extraordinary-ness in this ordinary, suffering, dusty country.

Comments

Thetis said…
I love the queen!
Anonymous said…
Bravo!

I suppose that having started with my wrong foot, it is rather awkward, and to some extent even prideswallowingly painful, to post any comment that might seem or be conciliatory. But, hey, maybe I do have my right foot exactly where it belongs – just as you guessed – and maybe this soundly accounts for all lack of reason or rhyme. Taken all in all for what this unnecessary, and maybe unwelcome, comment is truly worth, I trust you will arrive at “I read your post and I liked it” and discard the rest. So, again,

Bravo!

PS. I forgot the anonymity bit. You may vituperate me at anaragmb0@yahoo.com
suhail arif said…
and i may say that
"i read your post and i liked it"

really,
tk cr
wendigo said…
thetis - no one else seems to, though.

winegod - thanks, i think.

suhail - welcome, kya haal chal, and thanks.
Ink Spill said…
Amazing how we came to live four floors from each other from such disparate existences (which were incidentally, ten kilometres apart in a place thousands of miles away from here!) Worlds are not geographical, are they?

Carpe Diem Word Verification: Jhptos
suhail arif said…
suhail z fine..
saw ur other blog,nice too
Devesh said…
Thats the Irony!!!
Gald U recognised it...and as they say...
"Jindigi jeene ke 2 tarrikke hote hein..."
Sorabh Raina said…
hi

i really like the way u write
wendigo said…
true inks. the ungeographical-ness is strange indeed. jhptos, in fact.

thanks sorabh

devesh, aapka comment kuch samajh nahin aaya. unless it was about inky's comment.
heretic said…
Just read this and realized how different your life would be from the billion others in thsi country. Gee, I've finally met (partially untrue as the statement may be) bhurra sahib.

You'd be surprised by the family of the collector that stays in the flat below ours.

I'd be grateful to the first grandfather for the spirit he bestowed, but instinct tells me the other grandfather would be extremely beneficial to my financial wellbeing. ;-)

PS: just in case you thought I was being flippant, one grandpop of mine worked as an Education Secty for the Kingdom of Travancore, while the other fervently hated the Brits, but still ended up a Director in General Motors India. :-)) And no, both didn't leave enough money for me to be based in the honeyed lands of Bilayat.
Kaj said…
hey... i totally get this one.. I never realised just how much impact the Irish nuns had one (cjmite product), or how I took the architecture of Delhi for granted, or the luxury of having things taken care of.. and now that I live in London I deal with this juxtapose of having grown up in a young country with an english hangover...

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