The triumphs and travails of Indians in UK
By Reeta Sharma

I WAS visiting England after a gap of six years but it seemed like yesterday. Nothing had changed. Not even the upholstery at the Heathrow airport. Astonished, I wondered how they managed to keep it in shape although lakhs of people use it everyday. Back home in India, dust remains a permanent feature in our daily routine. I feel the cool European weather keeps the environment clean and healthy.

It was nearly midnight, yet Heathrow was as fresh as ever, reverberating with unending activity as if to show that it never sleeps. The place always throws me into a make-believe world of fantasy — where there are no ills, no woes, no poverty (for everyone appears to be well dressed and well fed), no inequality (for everyone can manage to shuttle in and out of the flights).

Once out of Heathrow, I saw that hardly any new construction had taken place. The old and familiar roads were still there, sparkling clean. The traffic is controlled. Rules and laws are obeyed. No one intimidates you by bulldozing his vehicle or overtaking your car impatiently.

The morning in Southall began on a happy note, with all my Punjabi friends calling up. They seemed desperate to speak to me in Punjabi. Angrezi bol-bol ke jabare vi thak gaye ne (our jaws are tired of speaking in English), they told me laughingly. I was booked for breakfast, lunch and dinner for both Saturday and Sunday. They all swim in a sea of nostalgia, while I was dubbed as ‘wattan di hawa (the breeze of their motherland). Six years ago I had found their children alien, distant, belonging to some unknown planet. Like Heathrow, even they had not changed. They were the same — alien, distant, belonging to some unknown planet.

Some of my snooty, high-flying friends living in posh areas of England tend to look down upon others living in Southall. But I have a special corner in my heart for them. Can you imagine that Indians dominate nearly 70 per cent of the Southall area? This has come about only due to their hard work. They are the ones who actually paved the way for the snooty ones to follow. Today most of the Punjabi delicacies, including ‘saag, makki-di-roti, mattar-paneer, karhi-chawal, baingan da bhartha, allo gobhi and mooli de paranthe, are easily available in innumerable dhabas of the Southall-Broadway market. In fact our restaurants in India fail to match the typical flavour that you can relish in Southall.

Fortunately, the old, too, are not very neglected and lonely unlike the British, and have created a mini-Punjab in Southall. You can find them in groups sitting and chatting on benches in various parks. At times you even relish a warm and nostalgic conversation going on amongst them. Playing cards is another pastime for them. However, their grand-children are in a dilemma, desperately trying to break away from their traditional, orthodox, conservative and unfashionable grandparents.

Thanks to the elderly Punjabis, Gujaratis and Bengalis, Indians are the most respected community in England today. It is heartening to discover from the Indian Embassy that there are 192 elected Indian councillors and mayors in England. I felt proud to know that there are as many as four Indian MPs in the House of Commons in Great Britain.

Of these, from Southhall, we have our very own Punjabi Pyara Singh Khabra. Another Punjabi from the constituency of Bradford is Marsha Singh. Then Keith Waz from Goa represents Leicester, and Dr Ashok Kumar is the MP from Cleveland East. What is amazing about Dr Ashok is that the constituency he represents does not have even 1 per cent of the Indian population.

The House of Lords, again, was represented by Indians like Lord Megh Nath Desaie and Lord (Mrs) Sheela Fletcher till 1996. Presently, we have Lord Swraj Paul representing the Labour Party. Conservatives, on the other hand, have reposed their confidence in Lord R.K. Bagri, while the Liberal Democratic Party has crowned Lord Navneet Dholkia as its representative.

Indians’ hold on the economy of England is incredible. In the past 15 years, as per a survey, hundreds of Indians in this country have become billionaires. The stories of these people from "rags to riches" are not only revealing but also touching. Raj Sareen of Manchester is one such person. Born and brought up in Kapurthala by his mother single-handedly, Raj is one of the seven brothers and sisters. He came to England with only £ 12 in his pocket, leaving a secure job of a medical representative at Shimla.

It was perseverance, entrepreneurship, dignity of labour and untiring investment which enabled this man to own a chain of warehouses in London and southern and northern islands. Today, well-entrenched in Manchester, Raj holds innumerable titles of various organisations and associations. Whether it is a mandir or a gurdwara, Raj Sareen is part of them all. Helping the needy is the only other passion with him.

Commenting on business in Manchester, Sareen revealed: "Nearly 40 per cent of the business here is owned by Indians alone in wholesale, imports, manufacturing and exports. It’s amazing that we Indians who, unfortunately, do not enjoy and experience dignity of labour in India, turn out to be the best workers here in England".

Then there is Jessu Bhai J.H. Tanna, who had to sell his empire to eventually take employment in old age. This Gujarati, extremely gentle and warm, my host in Manchester, is another symbol of dignity of labour. The loss of his empire has certainly not frustrated him. He and his august wife, Meera Ben, are unbelievably contented people. Their home generates peace of the soul. They pampered me with their typical Gujarati hospitality.

My grandmother, whom I call ‘Amma’, has been telling me for years that "life does not always remain a bed of noses and that dukh-sukh, dhup-chaon, raat-savera are all intertwined". How true it is. In England, too, while there is a rosy side to the lives of Indians, a bitter truth, on the other hand, is also there.

There are people from our country who have not only killed their wives for dowry or insurance money but have also become chronic alcoholics and drug addicts. Their numbers are as alarmingly high as of those who have earned fame and name.

However, the third generation of Indians are neither Indians in the emotional and traditional sense, nor British. The racist English society does not accept them. They mentally and physically desperately try to avoid the tag of being Indians.

There are some parents who have taken conscious and laborious steps to keep their children rooted to their origin. But in an extremely industrialised society, their efforts are like a drop in the ocean. Nevertheless, for the peace and prosperity of their coming generations, this is the only route where there is light at the end of the tunnel.