Colonialism comes full circle

Much as I would like to claim a relationship with Rishi Sunak, he is not my cousin; not even 36 times removed. But like practically every other Indian, one is immensely proud that he has become the PM of Great Britain. While we rightly talk about colonialism coming full circle, let me take up another little story. 

I grew up in a mixed neighbourhood. Many of our neighbours were Anglo-Indians, and festivals like Diwali and Christmas were remarkably interchangeable. As children, we celebrated whatever we could celebrate and enjoyed every moment of it. In each other’s households, we learnt a little of who Jesus was, and my friends, perhaps, learnt a little of who we worshipped. Jesus, Rama, Krishna and Guru Nanak were a part of the pantheon that moved seamlessly from one organised religion to the other. My friends rang temple bells with us, took large helpings of prasad, and we knelt at Midnight Mass. My parents put up a Christmas tree every year — and this was well before Christmas became yet another commercialised festival. 

Given their mixed parentage, mostly a mix of Anglo-Saxon and Indian, the skin colours of my Anglo-Indian friends varied from freckled-European to brown-Indian. As we grew older and the simplicity of childhood slowly eroded, we learnt a little more about the Anglo-Indian community. We also learnt of how racist colonials (and Indians), would refer to them as ‘eight annas to the rupee’ or worse. This was based on the old rupee that was divided into 16 annas and this derogatory term was used to indicate the level of Anglo-Saxon ancestry. 

As we grew older still, many of these old friends moved overseas in search of better opportunities. Many had family in those countries and, expectedly, looked on them for some sort of support till they found their feet. Almost all took this big leap with very little money in their pockets — those were years when you were allowed only a few paltry dollars or pounds for overseas travel. How one was expected to fend for oneself was not the foreign exchange department’s concern.

Many of those young men and women who had left India were rudely turned away by their white-looking relatives. They would be told, ‘We don’t want our neighbours to think that we are Indians’, or, ‘We don’t want it known that we have “darkie” relatives’. Somehow, almost all of those who left with hope, and very little else, have done rather well for themselves, and more often than not, surpassed those who shut their doors to them. 

Well, one would like to hear what they would have to say now.