THIS ABOVE ALL
Nehru, Edwina and I
Khushwant Singh

Now that everyone is talking about the affair between our first Prime Minister and the last Vicereine of India, Lady Edwina Mountbatten, I can pitch in with my own little information on the subject. I was posted in London as India’s Press Attache when Panditji came to attend the Commonwealth Prime Ministers’ conference. All members of the Indian House staff, including High Commissioner Krishna Menon, were at Heathrow to receive him.

It was a chilly winter night. Panditji’s plane landed around midnight. Krishna Menon asked me to ask Panditji if he wanted me to escort him to the hotel. Panditji snubbed me: "Don’t be silly! Go home and sleep". Panditji did not go to his hotel, but to the residence of Lady Mountbatten. While he was still at the half-opened door with Lady Mountbatten in her nightgown, a press photographer, whom I am sure had been tipped off by Krishna Menon, took their picture.

It was on the front page of The Daily Herald the next morning with the caption: "Lady Mountbatten’s Midnight Caller." Panditji was furious. Krishna Menon passed on the blame to me. Thereafter, whenever I asked him a simple question, he snapped back at me.

Nehru was a great visionary and a founding-father of India’s secular, Socialist democracy

He wanted to visit a bookstore. I asked him what kind of bookstore would he like to visit, as London had many specialising on books on the Orient. He snapped: "A bookstore where they sell books." So we found ourselves in a large bookstore on Oxford Street. Panditji asked for all books written by Bernard Shaw, who had died a week earlier, and was much in the news. I could not help asking: "Sir, do you get time to read books?" He looked me up and down and snapped: "Of course not." That taught me to keep my mouth shut.

On his last night in London he was again spotted with Lady Mountbatten dining in a Greek restaurant in Soho. The owner recognised him and sent for press photographers. Their picture was in all the papers the next day. I was summoned and roundly ticked off for no fault of mine. I was sure I would never be attached to Panditji again.

But the experience did not change my opinion of him as a great visionary and a founding-father of India’s secular, Socialist democracy.

Every time I am introduced to a new delicacy imported from a foreign country, I say to myself, surely, we can grow it, or make it in India. For some years, amongst fruits I relish is kiwi, which comes all the way from New Zealand. I was told it is being grown in Himachal. Why is the indigenous product not available in the market? Now there are imported grapes and apples available at prices competitive with our own home-grown fruit.

Last year some friend gave me a packet of wasabi peas from Japan. They are obviously cooked in horseradish sauce, tickle one’s palate and send a whiff of the pungent sauce up one’s nostrils. They go very well with my evening drink. Why hasn’t an Indian firm thought of making them?

Then there is a new variety of biscuits with a taste of salt and sugar. Very tasty but imported. The latest foreign invader is canned orange juice from South Korea. We have good orange juices made in India. The Korean is tastier.

In a competitive market customers look for the best and the cheapest. Patriotism takes a second place. I have no doubt in my mind if Indian entrepreneurs decided to stake their money in producing top quality edibles, they would make handsome profits. Take the example of Haldi Ram. Ten years ago I had not heard of this firm making Indian salties and sweets. Now they are all over the country with a chain of factories and eateries in almost every major metropolis.

Things people have actually said in US courts. Attorney: "Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn’t know about it until the next morning?" Witness: "Did you actually pass the bar exam?" Attorney: "The youngest son, the 20-year-old; how old is he?" Witness: "He’s 20, much like your IQ." Attorney: "Were you present when your picture was taken?" Witness: "Are you shitting me?" Attorney: "How was your first marriage terminated?" Witness: "By death." Attorney: "And by whose death was it terminated?" Witness: "Take a guess." Attorney: "Do you recall the time that you examined the body?" Witness: "The autopsy started around 8.30 pm." Attorney: "And Mr Denton was dead at the time?" Witness: "If not, he was by the time I finished."

Question: Why do so many Indians defecate along railway lines?

Answer: Because they think locomotion accelerates the motion.

(Contributed by K.J.S. Ahluwalia, Amritsar)

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