[went to England in
1960]
I was disappointed by Buckingham Palace. I was expecting
something spectacular. The kings, queens, and emperors of ancient India lived
in magnificent palaces and I could not imagine how the Queen of the British
Empire could live in such an insignificant building.
When I saw Tom and his mother entering the kitchen with
their shoes on I thought it was unhygienic.
Later I saw dogs sleeping in kitchens. In my village the
kitchen is the most sacred place in the house; it is where the ancestors live.
Nobody is allowed to enter it without having a bath and putting clean clothes
on. Dogs are not kept as pets and when a stray dog came into our kitchen my
mother said all the food, including the clay pots, was polluted and had to be
thrown away.
His secretary brought us coffee. While drinking it he said,
‘We have employed Indian architects before, but never black architects. We
don’t want to offend our South African clients.’ Later on, when I moved around
London, I saw notices in estate agents windows: ‘No blacks, no Irish, no
children, no dogs.’
I was amazed that educated professional people could have
such views and express them openly. The architect was honored by the Government
for his contribution to religious architecture.
I never saw the famous architect. He was guarded by his
secretary who was in her fifties and unmarried. She was extremely bossy and
ordered everybody about. ‘That’s the trouble with old spinsters’. Tony used to
say. Indian women were always kind and affectionate, particularly to men and
those younger than themselves. …….This office was also managed by a middle-aged
spinster who was bossy. I thought all the architects’ offices in London had
secretaries who were bossy spinsters.
I knew I was being paid less than English architects doing
the same work. Other Indian architects working in London told me of their
experiences, which were similar to mine.
When I was a boy I was told that Muslims ate beef; so a
villager would never knowingly sell a cow to a Muslim.
It was a strange experience to live in a block of flats and
not know the neighbours….. Sometimes I met people in the lift and wished them
‘Good morning’ ….but that was all. Tom told me it was the English custom to
respect another person’s privacy. In my village, life was intimate and
everybody knew each other. The doors were never closed. Neighbours came in and
out without warning and were always welcomed.
….it was difficult for me to understand the British mind. Travelling….by
train I watched people hiding their faces behind newspapers. They rarely talked
to each other….
I found that many did not even look after their own parents
who were old and helpless. In India it is the duty of the children to look
after their parents and old relatives. While serving a meal my mother always
gave food to the old relatives and children first and ate whatever was left
over. The old never felt isolated. They lived with their families and
contributed to the happiness of the house.
I had come to England to study modern architecture but I had
found nothing but apathy. People were more interested in antiquities and old
buildings. Architects lacked vision and new ideas and the public showed little
interest in their environment….ugly buildings went up everywhere.
…….Amsterdam …..I wished him ‘Good morning’ and smiled back.
It was a refreshing change from England where I seldom saw people smiling. When
I looked at somebody in England and smiled I usually received a frown back.
Had he really meant to invite me? I thought of my experience
in England where people often said things they did not mean.
I soon discovered that the Germans liked England and the
English language. I did not hear any adverse comment about England. I could not
understand why there was a kind of campaign against Germany in England.
There were long conversations in German. I noticed an air of
formality mixed with the friendship, which I had not seen in England.
When I reached Florence I understood why the officer had
given me special attention. In Italy architects were highly respected.
….train to Rome. It was like being in India again. The
compartments were crowded with friendly passengers, talking, laughing,
gesticulating, and sharing food with each other.
….Italian. I soon learned a few useful phrases and I found
it came more naturally to me than German.
Rome …..a fundamental difference between temples and
churches. The inside of a temple is simple, without carvings and paintings. The
deity is the sole attraction. The external walls are carved with figures
depicting all aspects of life, and crowds of pilgrims go round looking at them
after worshipping the deity. In contrast, the interior of St Peter’s was like a
museum, richly decorated with stone carvings and paintings of religious scenes.
In India the pilgrims are all worshippers. In St Peter’s the constant stream of
sightseers who had not come to worship disturbed the atmosphere of peace. ……I
noticed office workers waving at me from the balconies….my friend …..said,
‘Italians think it is lucky to see an Indian; it is such a rare sight for
them.’ In England people hid their curiosity. It was not considered polite to
ask questions, I was told.
While looking at museums and churches I saw many English
tourists. They looked clumsy beside the graceful Italians.
…..a room of my own in Leeds. ….I felt alone and
lonely…..suspended in a space where I thought people were hostile to strangers.
I missed my village and my parents and their love. For the first time I realized
what love really meant. I received so much of it in my village that I had taken
it for granted. The expression of love is natural in India.
In my village people turn up at any time of the day or night
and are always welcomed. Problems are discussed openly with each other and
there is always someone to listen and sympathize. This helps to reduce tension
and mental anxiety.
The babies in my village are massaged every day with a
mixture of turmeric paste and castor oil and bathed in a bowl of water, warmed
in the sun. The turmeric paste keeps the skin soft and protects it from heat
and infection. Men and women used it regularly but now it is considered
old-fashioned.
The non-British staff worked hard but were made to feel like
beggars, with no right to expect justice. I found the incidents disturbing
because in India it is taken for granted that the British are just, honest and
fair.
When he was interviewed for a trainee course in financial
management the interviewing officer explained to him that white workers would
not like to work under a coloured officer…. ….he saw white officers of his
rank, who came after him, promoted to positions of responsibility while he was
passed over. ….It became apparent to him that he could not expect justice and
fair play in the civil service. There were two nations and he belonged to the
wrong one.
There is a saying in my village, ‘If the protector becomes
the oppressor, even God cannot help.’
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