Sunday 23 March 2014

INDIA, 1943-1944

I've never been to India and, to be honest, I've never been all that inclined to go to India, either. That's not India's fault, by the way, it's really just that I've never fancied it.

I know that I like Indian food, and I know that the Indian cricket team is supposed to be very impressive to watch, two things - I imagine - which would be those which are most likely to make me venture there if anything would, but I don't really think that either of them are enough to make me want to catch that plane.

Basically the idea of the place terrifies me, especially as I'm someone who can suffer culture shock in a relatively conservative place like California over something as harmless as how a light switch operates, and who spent two weeks in Egypt a few years ago basically walking about in total terror of having to engage with anything outside our little "tourism bubble" that might require me to interact in a situation where I could get something terribly "wrong…"

It's a shame really because in terms of art, culture and design, India has given such a lot to the world, but it remains somewhere I'm not all that fussed about seeing, at least not unless I have a fully versed and capable guide to deal with every potential little problem which might occur and, to be frank, I hardly think that I'm ever likely to be in a position to afford that level of molly-coddling...

Of course, those mad mop tops, The Beatles obviously spent some time there during their mid-era Sgt Pepper phase and seemed impressed, and lots of people we know seem to have been on holiday there and been rather impressed too, and a fair amount of jobs seem to have been relocated there over the years, but somehow the idea of the place and the diseases I could catch or the places I could manage to get lost in far outweighs my intrigue, despite the many telephone calls I receive from that strange and mysterious land sometimes referred to as the "sub-continent" which seem eager to sell me something or other.

I'm never entirely sure what, by the way, because the calls seldom get that far...

Think of Denholm Elliott playing Dr Marcus Brody in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade"("You know Marcus, he got lost once in his own museum…") and then imagine someone not quite as capable of coping and you'll be approaching the ballpark of my own incompetence.

Anyway, during the war, as the pictures on this page of his photograph album shows, my father was stationed in India, both in Bombay and Bangalore.

Very brave of him, I feel.

That page also mentions that he spent some time in Scotland.

I have actually been to Scotland… So, if you want to talk some more about terrifying and strange places, I could, at least, discuss my adventures in Edinburgh during two weekends attending the Fringe Festival, or the four days spent staying near Fort William, or even that day trip to Tignabruich when I was nowt but a new potato, but I suspect that you might just suspect that I'd be taking the McMichael if I did that.

Still, perhaps I do need to get braver and think about exploring more of the world. Maybe I need taking in hand by someone far more adventurous than I am to get shown the ropes of what life is like in the big wide world.

Mind you, knowing my luck, those ropes you're showing me will turn out to be some kind of deadly venomous snake after all...

1 comment:

  1. I have been to India and it was a huge sensory experience and culture shock. Back in your dad's day it must have been even more so. Almost makes me wish that I lived in those more interesting times. No, it does make me wish.

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