THIS ABOVE ALL
I am not a sycophant
Khushwant Singh

Some weeks ago, I wrote a piece on the Prime Ministers of India, explaining why I rated Manmohan Singh the best. It drew a lot of criticism from readers. Most of the letters criticising me for bias were published. The Editor was right in doing so. I was expecting some hostile reaction and took it in my stride. But some also accused me of being a sycophant. That hurt.

I detest sycophants, cronies and name-droppers. They are a curse on Indian society. They try to get close to men and women in power to promote themselves. We call them todies, chaaploos, and face-flatterers. So let me tell my readers that I have not been anywhere near the Prime Minister’s house or office, never spoken to him on the phone, nor ever asked for any favour for myself, my relatives or friends.

Likewise, I have never called on Sonia or Rahul Gandhi; nor any chief minister, minister, governor or senior official. Not even once. The charge against me of being a sycophant is probably false and malicious. It would be very foolish of anyone in his late 90s to harbour worldly ambitions. I am no fool.

However, I admit I enjoy the pervading impression that I am close to the Prime Minister’s family. For this I am grateful to my one and only one grandchild Naina Dayal. She was a favourite pupil of the Prime Minister’s daughter, Prof Upinder Tankha, in her student years in St. Stephen’s College, where she is now a teacher. From her association with Upinder, she got to know her mother Gursharan Kaur. So I got to know the Prime Minister’s wife.

Mrs Gursharan Kaur was happy that I spent so many years writing on Sikh history and translating Gurbani

From the word go, she and I hit it off. Though she rued the fact that I was an agnostic, she was happy that at the same time I spent so many years writing on Sikh history and translating Gurbani. She came to my book launches and presided over three. She proved to be as good a crowd-puller as any star from Bollywood.

She will be presiding over the launch of my last novel Sunset Club on November 30 in Hotel Le Meridien. At times she offloads some of the flowers given to her by people who call on the Prime Minister. So periodically my granddaughter Naina, my neighbour Reeta Devi Varma, and I receive a lot of them. I make it a point to keep them on a table in the centre of my sitting room so that my visitors can see them and ask: "Where did you get all these lilies, roses and carnations?" And I reply casually: "See the card attached to the bouquet." It reads: "From the Prime Minister’s home". So the rumour spreads. It is a childish thing to do; I can be very childish at times.

Exploring jungles

Chiranjit Parmar was born in Mandi (Himachal Pradesh) in 1939. His future career was determined while he was in his nursery class. On his way to school and back, he would stray from the road into the jungle to look for wild berries and fruit, which were edible but not available in the bazaar. So he decided to become a horticulturist. After finishing school, he joined Punjab Agricultural University and got an M.Sc. degree.

Then he went on to the University of Udaipur and got his doctorate. For a while he worked in his own state university, and then in the universities of Liberia (West Africa), Sweden and Japan. He took premature retirement and joined an Indo-Italian company, which introduced Himalayan yew whose leaves are believed to combat cancer.

Dr Parmar is a widely travelled horticulturist and has been to 30 foreign countries. In 1982 he published a compendium of his research entitled Wild Fruits of the Sub-Himalayan Region, in which he dealt with 26 varieties of edible fruit growing in the mountain wilderness. He has recently produced a CD. He presented one to me. I learn something about a subject of which I knew nothing. I feel enriched.

Sweet life

My friend, who believes in avoiding doctors, nursing homes and hospitals at all costs, had to undergo emergency treatment for diabetes. He lost weight and became very weak, but still protesting the whole idea of prolonged treatment, he muttered: "When God gave man blood sugar, there must be a reason for putting it there". "Oh, there was", said his doctor. "God gave you that diabetes so I could send my children to college."

(Contributed by Reeten Ganguly, Tezpur)