The change of life across two different centuries!

 For those of us who were born in the years immediately post World War 2, the pace of life and change in our society are akin to having been on a helter skelter.

 Some examples;

If you were born prior to the start of the National Health Service in July 1948, it meant that your parents were having to pay something like 5 shillings (25p in today's money) for hospital treatment for the birth of their child. Thanks to a Welshman from Tredegar, Aneurin "Nye" Bevan we had the miracle of the National Health Service introduced which meant that your health care was free at the point of need.

This year sees the 75th birthday of the greatest institution Western society has ever known and yet unbelievably, it is under attack by grasping capitalism with their puerile attempts to privatise it. The fact remains that the population is living longer, getting older and requiring increased health care and this needs financial aid from the state without profit being the prime aim.

Looking back over my life thusfar, it brings to mind the differences in society and the lives of the citizens therein.

• In the immediate post war tenement housing we only had outside toilets with torn up bits of newspapers stuck on a nail inside instead of loo rolls.
• Tin baths in front of the range/fire. Today we can have power showers, jacuzzi baths and for most of the Western World instant hot water which is clean.
• Telephones  were rare and only relatively wealthy families had one in the house. There were red telephone kiosks for the general public at strategic points in almost every town. Now you can have a little thing in your pocket which you could call someone on the opposite side of the world on and additionally see them at the same time. You can use it to make films, take pictures, watch television/films on and give you directions too!
• We only two real radio stations in the U.K. (both run by the BBC) with wireless sets and a variety of valves which had to heat up in them prior to listening to anything - The Light Programme and the Home Service;

• Very few people had television, but those that did (predominantly the wealthy in the home counties of England) had to wait until June of 1946 for the resumption of the BBC Television programmes after the war. There was only one channel for entertainment and obviously only in black and white with limited broadcasting time and it wasn't until 1952 that television was broadcast to Scotland. BBC2 didn't air until 1964 (by which time I'd joined up and was serving in the RAF) and my parents still didn't have one. ITV came into being in 1955, but as usual the regions were much later and ITV only came to Scotland in the Central Belt in 1957 and later still, 1960 for the Highlands/Grampian regions. Today we have literally hundreds of stations (a lot of which are absolute dross) nonetheless, you can view this multitude of channels on flat screens that are verging on cinemas in your own room.

The post war diet was still based on ration books and food coupon issues;

• The use of ration books in which the shopkeeper had to sign for what you'd purchased only ended in 1950. Restrictions were only gradually lifted for example; flour in 1948, clothes in 1949, canned and dried fruit in 1950 with of all things, chocolate biscuits, treacle, syrup and jelly with petrol and soap then too. 

• Needless to say that with most work being physically demanding and limited facilities for cleaning and personal hygiene and only very basic soap the vast majority of the population may have been a tad smelly.

In truth then I recognise that there has been some improvements to life in general, but not all of the changes have been for the better in terms of quality of life as a human being!

Imperialism and the "British Empire" are dead - Get over it !

I've been listening to an "Audible" sort of podcast by Writer, Broadcaster and Barrister Afua Hirsch on the topic headlined.

In this relatively brief but truthfully accurate and hard-hitting series of interviews to such diverse characters as Actress and film star Dame Diana Rigg, Poet Benjamin Zephaniah and Broadcaster Anita Rani, the "British Empire" is exposed for its flaws and logically but inexorably consigned to the dustbin of history!

British Empire

The British Empire was composed of the dominions, colonies, protectorates, mandates, and other territories ruled or administered by the United Kingdom and its predecessor states. It began with the overseas possessions and trading posts established by England between the late 16th and early 18th centuries. At its height it was the largest empire in history and, for over a century, was the foremost global power. By 1913 the British Empire held sway over 412 million people, 23 per cent of the world population at the time, and by 1920 it covered 35,500,000 km²or 24 percent of the Earth's total land area. As a result, its constitutional, legal, linguistic, and cultural legacy is widespread. At the peak of its power, it was described as "the empire on which the sun never sets", as the sun was always shining on at least one of its territories.

The death of the British Empire as such, was exacerbated by the second world war, but in truth was probably a  lingering and not entirely painless death from the 1920's.

 Economics, was probably the root cause of this terminal illness, in addition to outmoded attitudes by those, and by the way I definitely include the Scots in these attitudes towards "Johnny Foreigner".

The question is?  Does "Brexit" exemplify "Imperialism" and despite the reality of the 21st century global politics the "Dis-United Kingdom" still think it has a role to play on the world stage??

If you have "Audible" on your Kindle, have a listen to this short but accurate summary of the death of Empire.

The pomposity of a "Londoner" in respect of tattoos and Israel

More Delhi reminiscences; 

"I hate tattoos" Thus proclaimed a rather pompous woman from London who's now offended two of us, a career in the diplomatic corps is undoubtedly her forte. Actually she asked if I'd had it done, and when I said yes, the response was the comment at the opening. I pointed out that life was too short to use hate as an emotion but she prevaricated to reiterate her hatred for them. I took this opportunity to point out that I was unlikely to lose much sleep over her hatred of them since it was my arm it was decorating and not hers. The same pompous woman had the temerity to tell Laiah in a very early conversation that she hated Israel, despite knowing that Laiah is Jewish! We're now convinced that she was stood up at the altar in her wedding dress by an Israeli tattooist, which can be the only logical explanation for her somewhat belligerent dislike of the country and my arm art work.

Still it is Friday and the weekend beckons, though no travelling for me! The heat is beginning to sap me physically, and by midday I'm not worth a brass farthing. I may go sight-seeing in Delhi this weekend as there are still places I haven't seen, and I should really as they're on the doorstep so to speak (well a rickshaw away!) 

The morning started at Mother Teresa's with a mass with Father Julian coming in to do it. He's a nice guy and the day had started well, for the most part it went that way, till near the end when I'd normally be leaving the hospice. 

Lunch at the hospice was behind schedule today and in the interim there was an incident which wouldn't have happened if they'd been eating as they'd normally be doing at that time. One of the stronger boys bit one of the weaker ones on the arm, breaking the skin on the kid. It all happened so quick no-one was near enough to stop it, but I was near enough to see it and dive in on top of him. Dinner was obviously not soon enough for his appetite. So much for a vegetarian diet! 

Namaste for now. 

Football penalty flops

 No I'm not referring to Tottenham Hotspur, even although they'd qualify for the description! I'm referring to myself and one of the hospice helpers, when we had a penalty shoot-out in the yard this morning. Neither of us could kick a barn door if we held the handle. I saved all of his and he saved all of mine, not that they were exactly rockets since it was a leather ball and we both had cheap sandals on! Other than that it was another good day at the hospice, which I'm enjoying more as each day passes. Maybe enjoying is not the right word, but it is not as harrowing as I thought it would be on Monday. I still have to watch closely for any aggravation between the strong ones (and there are some who, whatever else they may have wrong with them are built like the proverbial brick "outhouses") and the weaker ones. The fact that they do stop whenever I whistle piercingly at them and shout "Nehi" in an authoritative voice seems to be enough. The afternoon saw me at yet another tattooist, this time not in a van but in a beauty parlour of all places, for the two latest editions to the Tom Walker body art (?) collection. It took some time but they are done and look very good according to all who've seen them thus far. One of the new arrivals this last weekend had taken to sleeping on our lounge floor since her room-mate snored too loudly for her to sleep. Since I start about two hours earlier than the rest I'm normally in the lounge for a coffee and a nicotine injection just after 6 a.m. This morning to my horror an enormous cockroach made it's way across the lounge floor, I tried to stamp on it but missed and it scurried under one of the settees. She asked me what that was, and I lied and said it was a wee ant. However, after I'd gone there was some shrieking which woke everyone else in the flat, as she undoubtedly saw the 2.5 inch long potential resident! His present state of life is as yet unknown, but I'm willing to bet that he's joined "Roland" in the big rubbish heap in the sky. Namaste from a very hot Delhi (33 dec C)

"Sweeny Todd" takes on a new role at the Hospice !!

 For everyone concerned that I've taken up the use of a "cut-throat" razor, with my shaky hands forget it! 

The guys at Mother Teresa's have more stubble than a spaghetti western, so I've put my old Braun razor to use having ensured I could charge it on site! I could, at least while the power was working! Thus equipped I've started giving the patients a shave, and those that have enough (and there's plenty of them) are all getting the sort of "Goatee" that I could only dream of. It is going down well with the troops and the smiles on their faces at this menial bit of pampering is worth countless rupees. 

That aspect of the day is after the routine chores are out of the way though and first thing is sluicing down the floors to get rid of whatever! Then squee-geeing the excess down the drain. Next up is the hanging out on the roof, of the blankets and their "Dhobi/Clothes" All this domestic stuff takes up a couple of hours, then taking a couple of them for a walk either by hand or in one of the only two ancient wheelchairs the men's ward has. 

Here is a paradox about India (of which paradoxes there are too many to count). The home when I'm up on the roof with their blankets being hung out, is situated next to a veritable mansion with an almost unsightly display of ostentatious wealth. On the one hand the Order is lucky to have had such generous benefactors, and for those who'll be here till their dying day (all of them I guess) it is a really nice place to be in, were it not for the fact that there is a bunk room which must hold about thirty men. The same will be the case for the women on the opposite side of the corridor. 

Sister Maria gives me a warning not to give them too many hugs as some of the guys are sexually aware and although it doesn't seem like a fair suggestion to ignore their need for contact, she assures me that my very being here is more than enough and that they're enjoying the change of face and language! 

After my stint as a barber, the sisters and some of their helpers release a baby owl which we'd ended up with yesterday. It had been in the ward where the helpers sleep, in a sort of home- made cage with food and water to give it a break from whatever had been frightening it. This simple act again reinforces the kindness and generosity which is endemic in the order and is having an effect on my cynical old psyche, which can only be for the better I guess. 

After my lunch duties as a boiled egg-placer on their plates with rice and spinach (which I tried to do with some nouvelle cuisine panache), it is time to head back to base and a fag as I'm gasping! As we pass the "Qutub Minar" on the dual carriageway there is a pachyderm (Elephant) with its trunk duly painted, lumbering presumably to a wedding somewhere and a camel at the front and one bringing up the rear! I know I've seen it all before but it still amazes me when it happens. 

I truly LOVE India and its people !  Namaste

Heaven and Hell in a weekend

 The weekend has been organised to travel to Amritsar to see the "Golden Temple" and yes the roof is gold (approx. 570kgs of it). 

However to get to the Temple we have to get up at what seems the middle of the night to catch the train for an 8 hour ride since we can't get on the Shatabdi Express, and the crowds (even at that ungodly hour) is amazing as they jostle each other to get onto whatever train they're catching. 

After what seems like version of the "Eton Wall Game" with thousands on each side we do get onto the train and settle down for the journey. We'd already bought provisions for the journey based on our colleagues experience on the previous weekend, thus avoiding "Delhi Belly" and having to use the toilets (?) on the train. 

In fact I had to use them for a cigarette break as there seemed to be no smoking permitted in the carriages, with that in mind I used the "Indian Style" Loo, figuring that the stench in there would overwhelm anything created by a Marlboro. The ploy worked and I was a relatively happy bunny during the 8 hours. During the journey there was a constant stream of vendors trying to sell Chai (Tea) or Fine Coffee and assorted foodstuffs which ranged from a "Bread Omelette" whatever that is, to sweets, chocolates biscuits etc etc; When we eventually got to Amritsar it was on time and enough for us to go to drop our bags off, register (I didn't have my passport nor the visa, but bluffed my way with my free bus pass). 

It just didn't look like a passport but the clerk wasn't unduly concerned, being more concerned that since I'd a room to myself he'd half to charge me 800Rps (about a tenner). That done we hired a taxi to take us to the border with Pakistan for the nightly pantomime of the changing of the guard. In fact it is quite a scene, with both sets of guards marching with steps that the "Tiller Girls" in their heyday would have been proud of! 

There is much tooing and froing between the sets of border guards but basically anything the one side can do, the other side can do with as much dramatic effect as the other. This includes shouting out the respective orders by the guard commander, the two men were giving it much "tenor" with the first command of "Guard" being drawn out till there was nothing left in their lungs (about 50 seconds). 

Anyway the (Indian side was jam-packed and rather sadly the Pakistan side had roughly about a tenth of the number) which was somewhat sad as the whole thing is a metaphor for their respective countries antipathy for each other. You (as a neutral) just wished the opposite side of the border had been a bit fuller, if only because it looked a wee bit sad! 

If I'd anything to do with the other side I'd be bussing them there for nothing just to hold up my end of the panto! 

Sunday a.m. We get up in darkness to walk the 500 metres or so to the entrance of the Golden Temple complex, so that we can view it in dawn's morning light! My shoes are deposited in a room specifically for that purpose, and I have to go barefoot and with a natty bandana tied covering my head via the feet washing trough which is constantly being cleaned out. Even at this early hour there's a queue of thousands to traverse the "bridge" to the temple itself. 

Men are stripping off to their Sikh underwear (1 Item of the 5 K's) and bathing in the enormous pool in which the temple stands. I couldn't help notice that there is enormous carp which also swim languidly beside them. The noticeable feature (apart from the magnificent architecture) is the genuine spiritual devotion the Sikh's have. 

All of these people are not doing this to go through the motions, there is a dignified and devoutly religious feel about their every action. 

Laiah & Shanta went in the early afternoon to the "Silver Temple" which is Hindu, but my aching old bones have done enough this weekend and I'm "Cream Crackered", so I stroll round the perimeter of the Golden Temple's complex gardens and they're really beautiful and cool from the sun which now has my skin like a camel's, and since I'm breaking in the camel's teeth for him, it comes as no surprise that my skin is equally dried and wrinkled. 

I'm meeting the girls at the station at 4pm for the Shatabdi Express at 5pm back to Delhi so meander back to the station surprisingly easily considering I don't know where it is except in general terms. 

There are open air barbers outside the station so another cut-throat razor shave is in order, it's only 10 rupees, but in the return for a new blade in the razor he gets the 30 I'm used to paying in Delhi. It's still a bargain. Because he's had a tip, he gives me a spare chair in the shade and a cup of "Chai". Whilst taking this piece of largesse on his part, there's a stooshie out by the main gate into the station. It transpires that a couple of army men are shouting the odds (in civvies!) about police brutality towards them, and are succeeding in agitating the crowd who've gathered. No sooner done that Punjab's finest "Old Bill" appear and get stuck into them without much discussion, wielding canes that would bring tears to a glass eye should they catch your back! 

The Punjab "polis" don't take prisoners and they're all big laddies, this has the crowd and a nosey, freshly shaven Scot in hasty retreat should they fail to realise who has the canes. The whole episode was over and done with in about 5 minutes except for the soldier being tended to by medics for some form of ringing in his ears (what a surprise when you've been clocked on the head by a five foot long split cane!) 

The journey back to Delhi was duly completed on time at 11pm and we got back to the base at half past the hour. A big surprise for me was the fact that my new assignment at Mother Teresa's Home for the destitute and dying means I have to leave at 7am; so no time for any pussy-footing around with unpacking, it'll have to wait until morning or afternoon when I get back. My first day at the home is something I don't feel like sharing on the internet, I'm working with them in the men's area. God love them there's about 40 guys in the area with a nun, a couple of helpers and me ! I have no medical experience, but Sister Maria (a young German nun) keeps me busy. She was also taken aback when I spoke to her in German. My role is just to help wherever I can and to sweep, squeegee, hug, talk and generally show the guys that I care and I do! 

Enough already as Laiah would say with her Jewish humour, I can feel myself getting emotional just writing about their plight. They're all humans and this order treats them with dignity! The Mother Superior says I can use the chapel any time since I'm Catholic (she doesn't know about the lapsed bit), and I think I may do since it has all been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster; but I can and will keep with these guys since the look in their eyes makes you feel humble just being with them. 

Namaste!

"Tears for Souvenirs" by this "Diddy"

 I didn't post yesterday as it was fairly innocuous except I ended up at an Orthopaedic Consultants with what turns out to be (according to the x-ray) severe arthritis in my shoulder, since everywhere else is riddled with it why worry? The pain-killers have numbed it anyway. 

Today though was my last day with the students, as there is to be a wholesale strategic rethink on how their programme is to be structured and there is nothing we can do to stop the march of progress (?). Nonetheless we had a full turn out and a productive afternoon, punctuated with a farewell gift from the programme manager, group photos and hugs all round at the end of the afternoon. I cannot tell a lie there was genuine sadness on my part to parting with a group, that in a short time I've come to regard as friends. It did bring a welling up in my eye and voice as I bid them farewell. Laiah was there too since with my arm in a sling I couldn't write on the board. 

 Next week I'm going to work at "Mother Teresa's" for a month and in some respects this will be more of what I'd anticipated from voluntary work in Delhi. I'll be working with the men in the home for the destitute and dying, so I anticipate some emotional straining of the sinews. 

 Tomorrow Laiah, Shanta and I are going to Amritsar for the weekend, most of which will be on trains (packed to capacity I imagine), but the chance to see the famed temple is too much to miss out on. Namaste.