The Tribune - Spectrum

ART & LITERATURE
'ART AND SOUL
BOOKS
MUSINGS
TIME OFF
YOUR OPTION
ENTERTAINMENT
BOLLYWOOD BHELPURI
TELEVISION
WIDE ANGLE
FITNESS
GARDEN LIFE
NATURE
SUGAR 'N' SPICE
CONSUMER ALERT
TRAVEL
INTERACTIVE FEATURES
CAPTION CONTEST
FEEDBACK

Sunday, April 6, 2003
Interview

Meet the author
“My book is a quest for the true as opposed to the mythical Tibet”
Humra Quraishi

Patrick FrenchPATRICK French, a 36-year-old British writer, has been travelling in India and is, at present, in New Delhi for the launch of his latest book Tibet, Tibet (Harper Collins). He is the author of Liberty or Death: India’s Journey to Independence and Division, for which he won the Sunday Times’ Young Writer of the Year Award, and Younghusband: The Last Great Imperial Adventurer, for which he won the Somerset Maugham Award and the Royal Society of Literature Heinemann Prize. But what left me impressed — that is impressed before I’d met him or read any of his books — was the fact that the interview with him had to be shifted from a Saturday to another day. "Why?" I asked Amritha, the lady who was handling his meets with the Press, and she told me that on Saturday evening he was holding a birthday party for his young son, Tenzin.

Rather too spontaneously I muttered, "French seems a good father alright!" And it was with this impression of him that I landed in the middle of the next week to interview him and sure enough while he sat giving this interview, in the background played Tenzin with his younger brother Abraham. And as the interview progressed he came across as candid and immensely forthright, telling me incidents from his life which most would think twice before recounting. Excerpts from the interview with Patrick French:

You took to full-time writing rather early in life — at 36 you are already into writing your fifth book, a biography of V.S. Naipaul. Comment.

I’m no prodigy. When I was 15 years or so I was sure that I would be a writer. I took to full-time writing at the age of 23 and though the first five years were very difficult financially, but then today I live as a full-time writer.

You are married and have three children. How do you balance your personal life with the demands of writing, especially since most writers are emotional and lead turbulent lives?

 
When I write I get completely immersed in it and then I am free for some months before I start work on the next book so that way I do take out time for the family. And maybe I am emotionally turbulent and all this emotional calm that you say you are seeing and commenting on is just deceptive.

You come to India often and you seem well-versed with the life here and there’s a perception that you could be writing a book on India.

Maybe yes. In fact, there have been certain changes in India in the last decade, changes in the society and on the political scene, which is throwing up political figures likes Mayawati and Modi. The days of the Congress seem over and the reality is that it’s these figures — Mayawati and Modi — who represent the future. What I find a shame here is that even the most corrupt so-called VVIPS have chamchas hovering all around them, as though in awe of them, and I find this very unfortunate.

The very mention of Modi brings to mind the images of the Gujarat carnage. Comment.

Gujarat was a major disaster that was allowed to happen and the response to it was feeble. But here I would also like to point out that one cannot generalise anything on the basis of what took place in Gujarat and I am saying this because for the last few months I have been travelling in Kerala and I didn’t witness any communal tension between Hindus and Muslims.

Coming to your latest book Tibet Tibet how do you explain the passion with which you have written this book?

My involvement with Tibet had started in the early 1980s, when I was about 16. I was provoked by an encounter with the Dalai Lama, whose style and exoticism caught my eye. For the last 20 years I have been interacting with the Tibetan refugees and this book is part memoir, part travel book, part history; it is a quest for the true, as opposed to the mythical, Tibet. I wanted to focus on the people and their plight. In fact, in 1987 whilst I was living in a room at Tsechokling monastery, below McLeodganj,

I met a man who was attached to the monastery but was not a monk and his name was Thubten Ngodup and 11 years later, during a demonstration in New Delhi’s Jantar Mantar, Ngodup made his choice — by his own free will he ran to a hut where the cleaning fluids of the banners were kept and poured gasoline over his body. With a spark and a roar he burst from the hut and ran into the square, blazing. Ngodup’s death shook me. There was something about its directness and logic that was hard to put away from my mind.

Why do you think that in India there’s little or no sympathy for the Tibetan cause?

To be fair to India, it has housed these Tibetan refugees numbering over 80,000, and if it had been the UK, they would have sent back. Perhaps, India and Indians have so many other problems to deal with that the refugee problem doesn’t really stand out.

You have been travelling frequently to McLeodganj as a foreigner. Have you faced any problems living there? Did you face problems with men from intelligence agencies keeping track of foreigners?

None whatsoever. Perhaps the only problem I faced it was in reaching there, and when I had to travel through Punjab during the days of the agitation for Khalistan. Of course intelligence persons are there but they have never bothered me. But they question the new refugees coming from Tibet and yes, sometimes Chinese spies are spotted there.

It is said that a dialogue between Beijing and Dalai Lama might come about soon.

Not much is likely to come out of it. Beijing would want a complete surrender by the Dalai Lama and that means give up the idea of a democratic Tibet and that of a Greater Tibet and also the idea of an autonomous and independent Tibet.

Many Tibet observers have begun to ask who will fill the vacuum after Dalai Lama.

They have installed Samdhong Rimpoche as the prime minister of the Tibetans in exile.

How would you describe the Dalai Lama?

There’s an extraordinary aura and personal charisma about him. He uses his charm whilst reflecting on many serious questions. He knows how to relate to foreigners. In Dharamsala he is different, more like a father figure to his people. The Dalai Lama is hard to read: opaque, intuitive, wise, flippant, childlike, canny and disarming. After watching him for nearly 20 years I still felt some uncertainty about what motivated him, and what his real political strategy was for Tibet.