UNDERDOG MILLION HEIRS

Alistair Browne (AB) was a white man – British. Chirag Din (CD) was his Muslim peon. Jailor Jaimie (JJ) was a robust Anglo-Indian, and Ummed Kumar (UK), though not from that country, preferred to be called a Hindustani. The time – July 1947, the town Kanpur; then known as Cawnpore, the Manchester of the East, for its vast industry.

AB was a manager in the British India Corporation Ltd (BIC) that produced the finest cotton and woollen fabrics with world-renowned brand names like Lalimli and Elgin. JJ, with his walrus moustache and khaki shorts, instilled the fear of the devil in the jail inmates. But he ensured that they had proper food, water, clothing and hygiene. UK’s family were auctioneers. They auctioned everything that the British families, the mills and the army found superfluous.

The foursome stepped out of Sutherland House, the BIC headquarters, not far from the jail, into AB’s Morris Cowley, and drove down to the Cavalry Ground in the Cantonments. They went to bet at the last United Provinces Derby. AB suggested that they put their money on the Million Heiress (pronounced airiss), as it was the dark horse with heavier odds. JJ also supported the underdog. UK was perplexed. Why the hell did the English use an H, if it was silent? Why was a light coloured pony called a dark horse? And why call a horse a dog? The English language was a nightmare to him. Oh God, another horse!

The Million Heiress came from behind to win by a nose. What a lead. The foursome basked in their winnings. AB lit his briar pipe, JJ his cheroot, UK his Charminar, and CD his bidi. They drove back to AB’s red brick cottage in the Lalimli Mills compound in a haze of smoke. Smoke spewed from the mills’ chimneys too. Smoke was then a good omen, a sign of progress and prosperity. CD served cha in the garden with its petunias, pansies, birds and bees, shrubs and trees. They talked of India’s impending independence.

AB: You Indians are going to be free in a month’s time. That Gandy guy is a sweet old codger. He has led you to freedom, but he won’t be able to keep you free.
UK: Mahatma Gandhi is the father of the Nation. We will always abide by his principles.
JJ: I have my doubts. The jail is a microcosm of society. I have seen how, under the slightest duress, the ugliest side of the Indian psyche emerges.
AB: It’s true. Now you have a common “enemy” in the British. Once we are gone you will fight among yourselves over caste and creed.
CD: Sahabji, we Muslims and Hindus have fought together for Independence.
JJ: You accuse the British of divide and rule, and there is some truth in it. But it is the British who have kept the Babri Masjid in Ayodhya locked. God help us the day the locks are removed.
AB: If not religion you Indians will fight over caste. We employed all castes in the mills, including your so-called “untouchables”. But no upper caste wants to work in the spinning section.
UK: Why?
AB: Because when the thread breaks the worker sometimes uses his own spittle to join the loose ends together. Catch any high caste touching that.
JJ: By the way UK I hear that you have been blessed with your first-born. Boy or girl?
UK: I was happy either way. It’s a boy.
AB: What have you named him?
UK: To commemorate our impending independence I have named him Bharat Bhushan.

Cut to the year 2009

Petunias and pansies grew around AB’s grave “back home” in Birmingham, England. There were no flowers in his erstwhile cottage in the BIC compound. Nor was there any smoke belching out from Lalimli’s chimneys. Marwari businessmen got the BIC for a song after the British left, and milked it dry, aided and abetted by militant trade unionists. A left jab and right hook floored the BIC. Sarkari babus siphoned off whatever remained.

JJ’s son had joined the Indian army, became a brigadier and won a Mahavir Chakra in the 1965 war. CD’s grandson was down to selling pouches of paan masala on the footpath outside Lalimli. The fabric had changed. Kanpur was now infamous for producing carcinogenic and unhygienic paan masala. Mahatma Gandhi had been assassinated, and then forgotten, but not his specs that were auctioned for millions to a liquor baron! The Babri Masjid had been unlocked and demolished. As Madame Defarge had predicted in “The Tale of Two Cities”, the blood red river of communal hatred now flowed unabated.

The Cavalry Ground was now cordoned off by the Armoured Regiment, and “free” Indians found their movements severely restricted in the Cantonments. The imperial Indian army still considered civilians a second class “native’ populace. Sutherland House had been demolished to make way for a high rise. But the brown babus were one-up on the gora sahibs. Since the DM and DIGs’ sprawling bungalows were next door, a high rise would be an invasion of their privacy, the new memsahib’s kitty parties and the babalogs playing.

UK had tried to inculcate patriotic fervour, social concern and business ethics in his son Bharat Bhushan (BB). But BB felt terribly out of place in “free” India. One was free to cheat, lie, rob electricity, evade taxes, file false cases or bribe one’s way to success; to shit and spit anywhere; to drive rashly and abuse the “other” who was not of one’s caste, creed or class. BB wondered if this was the freedom for which Gandhiji had sacrificed his life?

BB’s family decided to give their ancestral property to a builder for development, but got caught in a quagmire of disputes. In order to browbeat BB into submission the builders got false criminal charges filed against him, and had him jailed. But BB was prepared for it.

Conditions in jail were inhuman. Two hand pumps for 350 prisoners, and no running water. 250 inmates in a barrack meant for 100. Filthy abuse and filthier living conditions. Bribery and corruption at every step. Money makes the mare go. You want bidis, charas, smack, special food, better living conditions – just pay for it. Would JJ have approved?

Lars, a German prisoner, was comfortable in the hospital barrack. He got special food in a hot casserole, smoked expensive foreign cigarettes, and strutted around as Lord of the Rings; even poking fun at the policemen on duty. Free Indians are still in awe of the white skin, even if he is a prisoner. Small wonder then that Leo Tolstoy had written to Mahatma Gandhi that it was impossible for a handful of white traders to enslave India until or unless the Indians were willing to be enslaved. The slavish mentality to gora and phoren continues.

While in jail BB heard about Slumdog Millionaire winning Oscars for showcasing India’s poverty. And India applauded! 62 years after Independence, Indians were still enslaved to the white man. But they had not learnt from their erstwhile masters. BB was in jail because of bribery and corruption in the police and judiciary. There was no enforcement of the law of perjury. But in England, Jeffrey Archer, renowned author and Member of Parliament, had been sentenced to rigorous imprisonment. His crime – swearing a false affidavit. Had that law been implemented in India there would be more Indians in jail than outside it! When BB came out on bail he read that parliamentary elections had been announced. He also saw the Lead India 09 campaign advocated by a leading newspaper. It drew attention to the number of MPs who had criminal or corruption cases pending against them.

BB resolved to lead from the front, even if he was the dark horse or the underdog. If his father had put his money on the Million Heiress, the time had now come for BB to place his trust in the millions of heirs to Mahatma Gandhi’s legacy of Satyagrah and Ahimsa. Yes he would lead India in its second struggle for freedom from communalism, casteism, corruption and criminalisation during this parliamentary election. Jayho for the slumdog, but Jai Hind for the underdog.
* The writer is a Kanpur based Gandhian social activist, whose family has been in Kanpur for 150 years. He recently experienced 6 days in jail.
MARCH 2009