Tag Archives: india

Somewhere snooty in Ooty (Ootacamund in south India)

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ABOUT TWENTY-FIVE years ago, we spent a short holiday in the southern hill station at Ootacamund (Udhagamandalam) in India’s Tamil Nadu state. Often called ‘Ooty’, the town is the home of one of India’s most prestigious colonial-style clubs, the Ootacamund Club, which was founded in 1841. It was there that my in-laws arranged for us to stay for a few nights. Our bedroom with a working wood fireplace was comfortable enough. It reminded me of rooms in old-fashioned hotels in which I had stayed in with my parents in the English countryside in the late 1950s.

When we stayed at the club in 2000, it seemed to be quite a ‘snobby’ or ‘snooty’ place. We were travelling with our then five-year old daughter. Apart from our bedroom, there were only two parts of the club that she was permitted to enter. One was a lobby, and the other was a children’s dining room. The latter was depressing to say the least. Because we did not want to abandon our daughter, we saw little else of the inside of the club.  The rest of the club house could only be entered by adults wearing appropriate clothing. For men in 2000, this included a jacket, shirt, proper shoes (not trainers or sandals) and tie. It seemed crazy to enforce such rules as we were the only people staying in, or using, the club  during the off-season. I wonder if these rules have been relaxed at least a little since our visit.

It was not my first visit to Ooty. My wife and I had spent part of our honeymoon there after our marriage in Bangalore in January 1994. That time, my father-in-law had arranged for us to stay in the St Margarets guest house that belonged to the company in which he had worked, ITC. Our stay at St Margarets was not without small problems, but the place suited me much more than the hallowed Ooty Club.

Footpaths in the Painted City: a journey of discovery

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HERE IS A BOOK which I have found fascinating. It is “Footpaths in the Painted City” by Sadia Shephard. It was published in 2008. The American born author’s father was an American Protestant, and her mother a Muslim from Pakistan. Her mother’s mother, Nana, converted to Islam when she married in Pakistan. However, early in the book, Sadia reveals how she discovered that Nana was born Jewish in pre-independence India.

What made the book especially interesting is that Nana was born into a Beni Israel family. Nobody is sure of the origins of the Beni Israel Jews, who reside mainly in the western Indian state of Maharashtra. It is commonly said that they are the descendants of Jewish people who left Israel after the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, and made their way by land and sea to the western coast of the Indian Subcontinent. They have adhered to all the rituals followed by members of other Jewish communities for many centuries. Until some European traveller in India recognised their adherence to Jewish religious ways of life during the nineteenth century, it is said that the Beni Israel community were unaware that they were Jews.

In her book, Sadia tries to discover more about Nana’s life story and the Beni Israel community into which she was born. To do this, the author travelled to both Pakistan and India. Her account of her time in India, investigating what remains of the country’s Beni Israel communities is fascinating and gives the reader a good idea of what a young lady experienced while living on her own for several months in India.

I have greatly enjoyed reading this engaging and moving book, and can recommend it to anyone interested in Judaism in India, the Beni Israel community, family history, travel, and any combination of these.

A coffee house in the Indian city of Bangalore (Bengaluru)

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GOING THROUGH SOME old photographs today, I came across a few taken in the India Coffee House that used to be on Bangalore’s MG Road. Here is what I wrote about the place in my book “Coracles and Crocodiles: 101 Tales of India”:

“When I first visited Bangalore in 1994, there was a coffee house on Mahatma Gandhi (‘MG’) Road close to the now derelict Srungar Shopping Complex. This venerable, popular ‘hole in the wall’ was a branch of the Indian Coffee House (‘ICH’) chain. In both appearance and atmosphere, it reminded me of some of the older coffee houses I had seen Belgrade and Sarajevo in Yugoslavia (when it still existed).

At the ICH, customers sat at old wooden tables on wooden benches with hard, upright backrests. Old Coffee Board (‘ICB’) posters hung on the walls. The waiters were dressed in white jackets and trousers held up by extremely wide red and gold belts – like cummerbunds – with huge metal buckles that bore the logo of the ICB. These gentlemen wore white turbans with red and gold ribbons on their heads. In addition to (in my humble opinion) rather average quality, but low-priced South Indian filter coffee, a variety of snacks and cold drinks were also on the menu.

During the British occupation of India, admission to most coffee houses was restricted to European clients. In the late 1890s, the idea of establishing an ICH chain of coffee houses for Indian customers began to be considered. In 1936, the ICB opened the first ICH in Bombay’s Churchgate area. By the 1940s, there were at least 50 branches all over what was then British India. In the mid-1950s, the ICHs were closed by the Coffee Board. The Communist leader AK Gopalan (1904-1977) and the Coffee Board workers managed to get the Board to hand over the ICH outlets to them, and they formed a series of Indian Coffee Workers’ Co-operatives. The cooperative in Bangalore was formed in August 1957. There are now several branches in the city. The MG Road branch, which opened in 1959, closed in 2009 … “

DISCOVER more about this and many other things I have experienced in India by reading my book, which is available from Amazon:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/CORACLES…/dp/B0DJZ6DMYB

Your comments about this introduction to a new book about India would be very welcome

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I am at present writing a book about my recent travels in India. I would be most grateful if you would read through this draft of my opening paragraph, and send me your observations about it. Would you want to read further? The paragraph is beneath this photograph taken in Jaipur.

Early one morning in February 2025, our British Airways Boeing 777 jet began moving away from the oddly designed, apparently ‘eco-friendly’, Terminal Two at Bangalore’s International Airport. As the aeroplane taxied smoothly towards the runway, I watched the parched airport terrain and its assortment of buildings, some painted with red and white checkerboard patterns, slipping past. Then with a certain suddenness heralded by an increase in the noise of our jet engines, we accelerated along the runway. Soon, we became detached from the soil of India. As the aircraft rose higher and higher, random memories flashed through my mind. These included eating laal maas on a rooftop in Jaisalmer; a distraught restaurant owner in Jodhpur; a Dutch cemetery on the Coromandel Coast; hawkers wandering up and down a railway carriage in West Bengal; riding through Bangalore in a Jesus autorickshaw; blessing a newly married couple in Pondicherry; tasting homemade nolen gur in Murshidabad; attending an aarti on the Ganges; eating ravioli in Auroville; the ghost of Tipu Sultan; and much more. After flying over the west coast of India, all these experiences and a whole host of others that we had enjoyed during our 88 day stay in India (between November 2024 and February 2025) became, like the Indian coastline over which we flew, distant memories which I hope will remain etched permanently in my mind. In the pages of this book, I will revive these and a whole host of other reminiscences and explore them in detail. I want my readers to enjoy and understand what we experienced during our almost three month long stay in India.

A book about the Gujaratis by Salil Tripathi

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WITH ABOUT SIX hundred and forty pages of text, this book published in 2024 covers a lot of ground. Much of what Tripathi writes about Gujarat and the Gujaratis is fascinating. However, the author’s definition of who is a Gujarati may differ from that of many others. His definition of a Gujarati is anyone whose mother tongue is Gujarati. Thus, he includes groups such as the Parsis, the Bohras, and the Khojas. None of those groups, all of whom have Gujarati as their mother tongue, would usually describe themselves as Gujaratis, even if they reside in Gujarat. Although Kachchhis generally speak Kachchhi amongst themselves, most speak Gujarati as well, but most of them would disagree with Tripathi’s calling them ‘Gujaratis’. By using his definition of a Gujarati, the author was able to include many people, who would not have described themselves as Gujarati, in his book.

 

The book is a mine of information about people that the author describes as being Gujaratis. Much of this information is fascinating, but there were occasional passages that I  felt should have been shortened or omitted. Although Tripathi deals a lot with some of the sadder aspects of life in Gujarat, he also injects humour into his text. However,  he notes that Gujaratis are proud of Mahatma Gandhi, a Gujarati, but in recent years, they seem to be forgetting what he stood for.

 

I am glad that I read this book, but would advise those planning to read it that it is more of an encyclopaedia than a portrait of the Gujaratis. Tripathi covers a great deal, but I felt that at the end of it, my understanding of the soul of Gujarat and its people had only increased by a small amount.

Gone forever: a wonderful bookshop in Bangalore (Bengaluru)

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HERE IS A BRIEF excerpt from my book “CORACLES AND CROCODILES: 101 TALES OF INDIA”. It comes from a chapter on the booksellers in Bangalore (Bengaluru), and is about a remarkable bookshop that, sadly, no longer exists. Here is the extract from my book:

“Premier, one of the most fantastic bookshops that has ever existed, is also no more. It closed some years ago when its owner, Mr Shanbag, retired. I felt almost as if I had suffered a bereavement when I arrived where the shop used to be located on the short stretch of Museum Road between MG Road and Church Street, and found that it was no longer there. I still mourn its passing.

From the outside, Premier could have been mistaken for a newsagent. A rack of magazines stood by the shop’s entrance. When you stepped inside, you felt as if you had entered a book-lover’s Aladdin’s Cave.  Mr Shanbag, who was related to the founder of Strand Bookstall in Bombay, used to sit by the entrance, hidden behind the piles of books and bits of paper cluttering up his tiny desk. The rectangular shop’s walls were lined with books stacked one upon each other, from floor to ceiling. A central divider was covered in books. Two narrow corridors ran along the length of the shop allowing customers and staff to penetrate the dingy depths of the establishment. Deep inside the shop there was a narrow, book-lined passageway connecting the two main corridors. This was so narrow that most adults, and obese children, needed to progress sideways along this claustrophobic book lined chasm.

In most bookshops, customers can pick a book from a shelf, browse it, and then replace it if necessary. This was not the case at Premier.  Only the foolhardy or a newcomer to the shop would attempt to take a book from the tall, precariously stacked piles on Premier’s bookshelves. A 19th century French composer, Alkan, was killed when he was crushed by books collapsing on him in his library. A possible injury awaited any customer who attempted to withdraw a book from Premier’s hazardously stacked shelves. One could say that the books were stacked perilously. One careless move would initiate an avalanche of literature – both fiction and non-fiction. This often happened. Shanbag would raise an eyebrow, and then he or one of his assistants would restore ‘order’ in the shelves.

You may well wonder how customers ever managed to browse in Premier. It was simple. All that was necessary was to ask Shanbag or one of his helpers to retrieve the book for you. If you were unable to see the book that you desired amongst the huge number of volumes stacked in the shop, Shanbag would be able to tell you instantly whether he had it in stock, without resorting to a computer or any form of catalogue. He knew exactly what he had in his shop, and where a book was located if he stocked it. And when you had made your selection, he would prepare a bill, and then knock 20% off the final total if you paid in cash.

A remarkable thing about Shanbag was his great understanding of his regular customers’ reading habits. He could remember what each customer had bought previously …”

You can find out more about Premier as well as many aspects of life in India in my book/Kindle, which is available from Amazon stores such as: https://www.amazon.co.uk/CORACLES-CROCODILES-101-TALES-INDIA/dp/B0DJZ6DMYB/

An artist from India in a park in London

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THE SERPENTINE NORTH (Sackler) Gallery (in London’s Hyde Park) is hosting a wonderful exhibition until 27 July 2025. It is displaying paintings and drawings created by Arpita Singh (née Dutta), who was born in Baranagar (now in West Bengal, India) in 1937. Between 1954 and 1959, she studied for a Diploma in Fine Arts at the Delhi Polytechnic in New Delhi. In 1962, she married the artist Paramjit Singh, and they live in New Delhi.

The works on display at the Serpentine were created from 1971 onwards. All of them were both intriguing and enjoyable to see. Even without knowing what the artist intended, I got the feeling that, apart from some abstract works, the images Singh creates are full of messages, stories, symbolism, allusions to feminism, and social comment. Though full of meanings, Singh’s works are subtle – their messages, which are left for the viewer to interpret, are not ‘full on’, but add to the visual enjoyment of the images. Her colourful paintings often lack the conventional European way of depicting perspective. In many of the paintings and drawings, the elements of the composition seem to be floating on the canvas or paper. Some of the pictures look like collages, but on closer examination what appeared to have been stuck on was in fact painted on the artwork.

The colourful artworks on display at the Serpentine are well worth seeing. It is a special show not only because it is her first solo exhibition outside India but also because Singh’s work is so satisfying to see.

Overcharging by Uber taxi cabs in Chennai

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WHENEVER WE HAVE HIRED Uber cabs in Bangalore, Bombay, Calcutta, and Hyderabad, we have always paid the amount quoted on the Uber app when making the booking: no more and no less. During a recent visit to Chennai (Madras) in January 2025, we ordered several Uber cabs, and each time experienced the same thing.

The first Uber cab we ordered arrived, and the driver asked us how much we had been quoted. When we told him, he said he would take us only if we paid an amount he mentioned, which was greatly in excess of the fare quoted on the app. On subsequent occasions, we ordered Uber cabs using the app and each time the driver telephoned us before he arrived. Each driver wanted to know the price of the fare on the app. And each time we told the driver the amount, he replied that he would only pick us up if we agreed to pay the higher fare he quoted. We were most surprised by this, but a friend in Chennai seemed to think that there was nothing unusual about what we were experiencing.

I suppose the Uber drivers in Chennai are charging a surcharge to cover what the Uber company deducts from them as a commission.

The man who helped make English a language of India

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THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY (1800-1859) was a genius, a reformer, a historian, an impressive and persuasive orator, a voracious reader, and a politician (Whig party). He was actively involved in abolishing the slave trade, emancipating the Roman Catholics and the Jewish people in Britain, and extending the right to vote. Yet despite his liberal views and actions, he was what many people might consider ‘politically incorrect’ by today’s standards. For example, even though he promoted the rights of Jewish people, he was quite anti-Semitic. As far as voting was concerned, he wanted to expand the electorate but only to those whose education was above a certain standard.

Macaulay spent several years in India, working for the East India Company and the British Government. He was disdainful of the long tradition of Hindu literature, customs, and knowledge. He felt that the way forward for the Indian Subcontinent lay in providing the Indians with what he considered to be the superior knowledge of Western (European) science, philosophy, and other aspects of life. To this end, he encouraged the teaching of English to Indians so that they could ‘enjoy’ the benefits of Western ‘civilisation’.. It is largely due to his efforts in promoting teaching of English, and other subjects in English, that today English is a flourishing language ( a ‘lingua franca’) in India and other parts of the Subcontinent..

An Indian academic Zareer Masani (1947-2024) has written a superbly detailed biography of Macaulay. Called “Macaulay”, this biography skilfully recounts the life of this fascinating man. It is a scholarly but highly readable account of a brilliant man who achieved a great deal and whose life was not free of contradictory traits. With regard to Macaulay’s encouragement of the use of English in India, Masani wrote that Macaulay was much admired by BR Ambedkar, who was born a Dalit and worked to improve the lot of Dalits. He was also the author of the Constitution of Independent India. Ambedkar, who admired Macaulay, benefitted from Macaulay’s encouragement of Western education as opposed to the revival of Indian nationalist traditions. Without Western education, which Macaulay insisted was to be made available to all Indians regardless of their religion or caste, BR Ambedkar, coming from humble background, might never have had the excellent educational opportunities he enjoyed.

I can strongly recommend this book. It was a joy to read.

Revolt in two colonies of Portugal in western India

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THE TOWN OF SILVASSA is just under 100 miles north of Colaba in Bombay. Known to the Portuguese as ‘Paço de Arcos’, it was the administrative capital of their colony of Dadra and Nagar Haveli, now an Indian Union Territory. Dadra is a small district, roughly circular in shape. It is separated from the larger Nagar Haveli by a small stretch of what is now the Indian State of Gujarat. Between about 1780 and 1954, these two landlocked territories were colonies of Portugal.

During the period when Portugal ruled Dadra and Nagar Haveli, the indigenous people living there were exploited mercilessly and treated harshly by the Portuguese and wealthy local landlords. Neelesh Kulkarni has recently (2024) published a book, “Uprising: The Liberation of Dadra and Nagar Haveli” which describes the struggle to free the two tiny colonies from Portuguese rule, and their eventual incorporation into the Republic of India. His account is not only based on published sources but also interviews with surviving freedom fighters and members of other fighter’s families.

After 1947, when most of what is now India became independent, Portuguese colonies on the Indian Subcontinent remained territorial possessions of Portugal. Kulkarni relates how at least two groups of freedom fighters struggled to evict the Portuguese from Dadra and Nagar Haveli. The Indian government, under the leadership of Jawaharlal Nehru, who had professed to the world to adhere to the principle of non-violence, was unwilling to send troops into the two rebellious Portuguese territories, yet did nothing to hinder the activities of the rebels. The book shows how the rebels planned their attacks on the Portuguese police and militia, collected funds, accumulated weaponry, recruited fighters and trained them.

Being landlocked and separated from their coastal colonies (Daman being the closest) by land, which after 1947 was Indian sovereign territory, made it difficult for the Portuguese to send military aid to their people in Dadra and Nagar Haveli. The Indian government was unwilling to allow military supplies to pass from Daman and Goa through India to the beleaguered landlocked Portuguese colonies. Using guerilla tactics and aided by the Warli tribal people, who had suffered much at the hands of the Portuguese, the Portuguese were eventually driven out of Dadra and Nagar Haveli. At times the situation was hair-raising, and there was a large possibility that the better armed Portuguese might have suppressed the rebellion.

I began reading Kulkarni’s book while waiting at a departure gate in Bangalore’s international airport, and finished its 220 exciting pages several hours later during a flight to London. His book about a relatively unknown freedom struggle in an obscure colony of Portugal is not only well-researched and interesting, but it is also written like a fast-paced thriller. I am really glad that I bought a copy, and will treasure it amongst my slowly growing collection of books about Gujarat and its history.