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.

The "Wind" is getting up !

Chana Masala

Gobi Aloo

Alas dear friends, it isn't a change in barometric pressure which causing this phenomena, rather it is the preponderance of pulses in my all too familiar diet of veggie food. To be eating Indian food 3 times a day is on one level a joy, on another it is a trial for an inveterate carnivore such as yours truly. In the spirit of honesty I can divulge that I'm enjoying the Indian version of "veggie food" better than any effort I've seen passed off in the UK. The downside is the effect all these vegetables are having on my digestive system.

There are fewer more embarrassing things than having to stifle the side effects of such a high dose of plant life, especially whilst in the company of sari clad, graceful women. I assume they have a similar problem since meat is non-existent in the Hindu diet, yet they manage to pass muster rather than wind. Anyway enough of the toilet humour!

Today was fairly innocuous especially after the bottom squeaking events of yesterdays drive to work! 

Laiah has a day off since her pupils are sitting Hindi exams so she gets to sample the delights of my work-place. My cover is well and truly blown now, since everyone else here works in appalling circumstances in the slums and mine is palatial! That said, the fact that she came to the class with me meant that the young men were suitably quiet, with only questions about how old was she and did she have a boy-friend? This prompted me to say that he was 6ft 5ins tall and weighed 14 stones, this figment of my imagination was enough to quell their post-pubescent queries.

The day went well and I did make them work for their corn so to speak. Embarrassingly my mobile phone went off in class. The upshot was that I had to stump up my fine, which I'd threatened to impose if anyone had a mobile phone switched on during lesson time. They were magnanimous in telling me not to, but the rule is the same for me as it is for them (except my fine is larger), and the deed was done! I may regret the vast sum of 19 rupees (nearly 25p), but the fine will bring us in some "Khana" tomorrow for our "Tiffin/Tea" break.

A wee observation; as I was coming through the alley to the office, I had to step round a tiny old woman (She must have been in her 80's), sitting cross legged on the concrete path and having a 40 wink break from watching her Grandkids. Her husband does a variety of wee jobs round about and he too must be nearer 90 than 70! My heart tells me to empty my wallet and let her get a break from her toils, but perhaps nearer the time when I'm coming home. Life can be hard sometimes, but the wee soul just made me think how lucky we are in Scotland to have a safety net which is conspicuous by it's absence here in "Mother India".

Where are my "Rosary Beads" when I need them?

 Dear readers, 

Verily my bottom was squeaking so tightly at lunchtime today, I swear that even WD40 wouldn't have helped! 

I was being driven to work in abnormally heavy traffic on the main road when we came to an almighty traffic jam, the like of which I'd not encountered even in Delhi! 

No big deal I hear you say; and normally you'd be right and I'd agree (having become yoga like in my approach to the vagaries of Delhi traffic).

 The point of this was, that we were stuck in this jam next to a car that burst into flames. the initial flames were slightly alarming and our mini extinguisher wouldn't have dented the flames so to speak. These flames became an inferno in a matter of seconds (the car's occupants had done a runner by this time), and the first thing that crossed both Kewal and my minds simultaneously but in different languages was "Shit what if the tank blows" as it had every potential for so doing. If it was a CNG car then it is just as bad, in either event I am beginning to feel very, very afraid with a vision of a loud bang and then infinity with my body parts and those of several hundred round about us being scattered over the flyover and underpass some 100 yards away. 

 The "frigging" traffic lights are at red still and the jam is not moving an inch! Despite everyone blasting their horns at the people in front, the punters who're crossing the road show no sign of letting us or anyone else through and now my rear end is the same temperature as the flaming car not 6 feet from my window. By now people are beginning to make a dart for it on foot or driving their cars up onto the pavement and barging all and sundry out of the road to get as far away as possible from the potential explosion, yet Kewal and I are stuck like a couple of turkeys with no exit and too close in anyone's language. 

 As if by a message from some ancient Hindu god, whether Ganesh, Shiva or anyone else in the pantheon of Hindu gods, the lights change to green and we set off (everyone that is) like the start of the Le Mans 24 hour race to get as much distance between us and the raging inferno/potential bomb as quickly as humanly possible. I'd calmed down to a frenzy by the time we got to the school, but in total frankness I'd had a scare which I could have done without and hope never to repeat. I didn't hear any explosion, so assume that either the fire brigade had got there (I doubt that with the volume of traffic) or that the tank was empty and the whole thing just burnt out. I'll know better tomorrow when I pass by again. 

The rest of the day was insignificant by comparison, so I'll brush over that. Namaste from a very relieved part time teacher in Delhi.

The "Teacher" is back on his own

 I have a late start from now on and that means a long lie in if I want! The reality is I still get up at the same time, and in any event the ladies are all doing Yoga in our living room at 6.30 a.m. I would have joined the class but hey ho an old war wound (2 artificial knees) prevent my joining in. The women tell me they enjoy it and that it is doing them good. I'll take their word for it as the prospect of the "Lotus Position" on a marble floor has all the desirability of a Cactus enema. 

I went to the centre this afternoon not knowing if I'd have any students since the time had been changed, but to my delight the first one in was the class stud Deepak, he's a really good looking young man who has the girls eating out of his hand, but every now and then you'll find him trying a flanker!

 Despite this I can't help but like him. He'd come in because he thought I'd be lonely if no-one came because of the time change (a possibility). Shortly thereafter, 3 of the girls also came in, one of whom is on a fast, as today is a special feast day for Shiva. Next thing another of the guys turned up. I'm really touched by this as it took effort on their part to do it! Such kindness is the norm in India and it is touching as I don't think it would happen in some of our schools. 

I've decided to dive further into the Ganges and get myself a working Indian outfit with the long shirt, white cotton trousers and a waistcoat! If the suit is anything to go by then this will be pretty cheap, mind you where am I going to wear it in Stonehaven? Maybe when I go to the carry-out for a "Ruby Murray". 

Going to breakfast this morning at the office, I was watched intently by a monkey which meandered out from one of the gardens, he was quite large and it leaves me thinking where does he doss down at night as we're in the city centre? I forgot to mention that when I was at Gandhi's burial plot on Saturday as I stepped out of the rickshaw I almost stood in the basket in which a snake charmer had his cobra ready to perform for any unsuspecting balloon like me. The thought of destroying his source of income was bad enough, the thought that the cobra might have been slightly pee'd off with me standing on him is another matter altogether, anyway I moved to the left somewhat sharpish so as not to offend either party. 

 Namaste Doste

Paying respect to "Mahatma" Gandhi and being stroked on the chin by a transvestite !

 Saturday morning and the living is easy! A lie in with a leisurely read at the papers and omelette and toast with "Chai" to wash it down is the order of the day! It's going to be another scorcher (well for me at any rate!) Fully fuelled for whatever I choose to do, my conscience gives me a dunt and reminds me that there is still so much else to see in Delhi and behaving like a sloth who's constipated is not the answer, so I jump in a rickshaw and head to Gandhi's burial spot. 

Not realising that the journey is likely to be anything like it turned out was a error of judgement on my part! It took all my patience (I know I don't have much but what I have got) not to get out the rickshaw and clock the policeman who held us up at a junction for 20 mins while he let all the rest of the main and side roads through. Still Mother India and all that! The ride was almost 2 hours and a chiropractor would go down well now after the journey! The plot itself is in a sunken garden with an eternal flame burning and the devotees passing by the tomb are dignified as you'd expect for someone for whom over a billion and a quarter people still regard as almost God like. No chance of any British politician being buried in such a fashion. Next up I went to the Lodhi Gardens, described as the lungs of Delhi and with the vehicles on the road no wonder they need so many parks. This one is about the size of all the parks in Aberdeen combined, still it was shady in parts and I'd now become the owner of a cricket hat to keep the sun at bay. 

 This is another wee step into some metamorphous on my part, eating veggie stuff, liking cricket and drinking chai. Disconcerting or what? Maybe I'm becoming the archetypal "Brown Englishman" that the colonials were trying to make the Indians. I've broken the journey home up by stopping off in Connaught Place for some Chinese food and a Kingfisher beer since I've missed lunch at the base. I think the real reason I needed the beer was that on the way to Connaught Place a "Trannie" leant into the rickshaw and stroked my chin departing back along the line before he could interpret the words "Feck Off" and get a shave! The driver was bemused by this and to a certain extent I was too since, in all my 62 years I've never been approached by anyone gay, much less a man in a sari. 

P.S. that is not a plea for any gay attention in case there is any doubt. This kaleidoscope of senses in Delhi continues to fascinate me, despite the obvious signs of poverty and begging which I have to force myself to turn a "Nelson's eye" to. 

 Namaste from Delhi

"Bubbling" as Barbara bows out ! More Delhi memories

 There were some wet eyes this morning in the class as Barbara bowed out of her assignment. The kids had got her a cake with a candle on it, and some pepsi and lemonade with crisps etc; and we cut the lesson short so that we could all gather in the classroom and they could say farewell. They'd also bought her some presents and it was a wee bit emotional. The assistant Director also went out and bought her a gift which was really nice as they haven't really seen eye to eye! Photographs with mobile phones were the order of the day and two with a proper camera for posterity. There is a mini-crisis for my ongoing placement at the Habitat Learning Centre, in that they want me to change my times of work there to the afternoon. For me this is no big deal but it does mean that the kids I've had each day, may not get there in the afternoon and that is a pity! 

It does mean that I may get a whole new or part new bunch and have to start from scratch. That is a bit frustrating but I'm only the unpaid hired help, and the progress Barbs and I have made with our group may well stagnate. I hope not for their sakes, as they'd warm your heart with their attitude and happy faces (even a cynical old prat like me!). As she flies out tonight at midnight for a 20 hour flight back to Detroit with a 6 hour stopover in New York it is going to be a long day/night for her! So farewell to her and I hope she enjoys her new life in Orlando where she's going to work for the Disney corporation!

She's worked with a clown for a fortnight so Mickey Mouse should be a doddle! 

For me it is a relatively quiet weekend in Delhi again, and the girls are organised for the movies etc. Next weekend will be enough as we have a train journey of 8 hours to do, and I'll have a better description of the train and it's facilities (?) after it, certainly if the buses are anything to go by, it will be an eye opener. I've had to get my daughter Fe to send a stroppy message to BT (how unlike me to pen something sarcastic and stroppy to a contractor?) as the plonkers have disconnected my mobile phone, as the usage seems high to them! Why did I bother telling them I was coming out here, if they're not going to pay any attention to it and cut me off? It's left me a bit isolated pro tempore but if it isn't back on in 24 hours then they'll have broken their side of the contract and I've no compunction in getting someone else, and indeed it appears I can get a fairly cheap mobile here after all and pay up front for air-time with inbound calls free with Air Tel of India.

Namaste

Scotrail eat your heart out ! Back a decade to Delhi

 Today is Barbara's 2nd last day as she goes back to Detroit tomorrow night. She's been a big help and in some respects I'll miss her help and advice. In the afternoon she and I went to a golf driving range and knocked a couple of buckets of balls and with the hire of a driver it came to almost 2$, such extravagance! 

As an aside when we were being driven back from the Habitat learning centre we had to overtake two camels and two elephants at lunchtime, in fact they were making better progress than the cars. 

Last night the girls and I were organising a couple of trips! One to Goa in March (towards the end of month) and to Amritsar to the Golden Temple in a weeks time. The girls (having the technical ability, booked and paid for the flights online). The train was another matter, and the trains this weekend are sold out with a waiting list of too many to contemplate. The only answer is for me to go down to the station myself and see what can be done about the following weekend. 

Being me I decide to avoid the "tourist" booth in the main station and go with the Sikh driver to the Indian ticket office, it was a hoot! The place was heaving to the gills with Indian guys and a single solitary pale face (but he did have a sense of humour and a tattoo with Mother India in Sanskrit on his upper arm), this latter aspect was enough to get by and eventually I got 3 returns (not in the class I'd have liked for me and the girls Laiah and Shanta), and the train we are booked on takes an hour more than the express we'd wanted for the outbound journey, on the plus side we are booked on the express on the return journey. I bet Scotrail would sell their souls for the queues and waiting lists for every seat on their trains! 

Shanta has booked us a hotel room at 450 rupees each a night (9$) and it has a rooftop restaurant with cushions outside on the roof and a view of the Golden Temple! The older women would have a heart attack if they thought they had to pay less than 120$. As an aside the "Trout with the Pout" is leaving and has given bad feedback from which the rest of us are quite taken aback, since we are all really entering into the way of life of Delhi. 

Namaste from 30 deg C and wall to wall sunshine.

Britain is unravelling and the Monarchy is heading for the dustbin of history!

The headline above will undoubtedly lose me some "friends" on social media, but in truth, the fact remains that the "United" Kingdom which is no more united than is having, joint membership to the Orange Order and the Ancient Order of Hibernian !

These two "Orders" are as diametrically opposite as it is physically possible to be ! 

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Then there was the "United Kingdom" which with the advent of Brexit is now more "Untied" than "United".

Pre Brexit

Post Brexit

Notwithstanding the inbuilt desire in Scotland for some form of self governance, this removal from the E.U. via England's majority for Brexit this was metaphorically speaking the "cat among the pigeons". 

The referendum for Brexit in Scotland was a substantial vote of 62-38% in favour of remaining, whereas the overall UK figure was 51.9-48.1% for leaving. The disparity could hardly be more stark and the end result has been an unprecedented rise in support for Independence. 

There were a couple of areas in Scotland for which the rise in support did not reflect the nationwide movement. Predominantly the North East of Scotland in which the fishing industries dominate. This was to prove a false dawn as they found out that Boris Johnson's word was not his bond!

Who'd have thought that Trawler Skippers could be such gullible twerps ?

Boris "selling" the Peterhead Fishing Industry a "Sprat" for a mackerel. The fact remains that the loss of EU markets has dealt the Fishing Industry, if not a mortal blow, then a wound that will fester for a long time to come.

I am genuinely captivated with a book by Gavin Esler (see below) which has summarised the status of Britain to a tee! Not that this summary white-washes Scotland by any means, but it does give clarity and objectivity to the debate around the unravelling of the UK. In the interests of economics I got my copy via Kindle for a mere British Pound (£); and is probably the best £1 I've spent ever.

The Monarchy

This is the part at which my ex-RAF colleagues and I diverge and probably by 180 degrees.

The line of succession of the House of Windsor (a.k.a. Saxe-Coburg-Gotha);

The name Saxe-Coburg-Gotha came into the British Royal Family in 1840 
with the marriage of Queen Victoria to Prince Albert, Duke of Saxe-Coburg & Gotha. 

Queen Victoria herself was the last monarch of the House of Hanover.
The House of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha as a British dynasty was short-lived. 
It encompassed the reign of King Edward VII, who reigned for nine years 
at the beginning of the modern age in the early years of the twentieth century, 
and the first seven years of his son, King George V, 
who replaced the German-sounding title with that of Windsor in 1917
during the First World War. 

From the outset let me make clear that E II R or Queen Elizabeth 
the second of England should be in fact Queen Elizabeth the first of Scotland, 

Actually, I hold her in high esteem since during her reign of approaching 70 years, 
she has at all times remained above and aloof from, Westminster Politics. 

Despite the attempts of certain political party leaders to inveigle her into their webs. 
Cameron in 2014 springs to mind.

However the same cannot be said for her eldest son Charles, whose infamous 
"Black Spider Letters" show that he most assuredly does not keep 
himself and his opinion out of the political arena. 

Now it transpires that William and his wife Kate too, seem to be 
being sucked into the morass of British politics. 

In the case of Scotland, they publicly view the country as some 
sort of tartan holiday arena where according to William they feel an 
affinity with the people! 

Personally I feel this is patronising baloney since the idea 
that they (William & Kate) had to scrape by using food banks and 
on a financial pittance like so many across the British Isles is risible.

The University of St Andrews is the only real connection both of them 
have with the Scots and of course their free issue titles 
"The Earl and Countess of Strathearn" and William is of course 
"Lord High Commissioner for the Church of Scotland".

High Commissioner of an institution which is haemorrhaging participants 
quicker than Boris Johnson does sexual partners is hardly inspiring in 
terms of becoming the Monarch of a Dis-United Kingdom. 

The future of the former UK will be decided by the future voting public, 
and if the youth have anything to do with it, then the idea of a 
non tax paying monarchy for whom wealth is an essential part of the 
pantomime is according to statistics is a non-runner.

A singing Sikh and 3 "Transvestites"

 Last night the girls and I had a superb Chinese meal in Connaught Place at a restaurant called Zen. The food was super and my street credibility was on an upward trajectory so far as the Indian guys were concerned as I was in the company of 4 beautiful young girls. The fact that I'm almost old enough to be their Grandad didn't seem to catch on with the guys. 

I'll let their minds keep that thought though! 

 Sunday morning and after a lazy coffee and a swatch at the Sunday papers plus the usual quota of nicotine I decide to get cleaned up and head out to the city centre again and see some more of the sights! 

I hail a rickshaw for another spine shattering, but ultimately practical ride into "Old Delhi" having picked the Red Fort to start with. Old Delhi is if anything, even more densely inhabited than New Delhi, and I have to admit the overwhelming odour of sewage and other waste allied to being jammed tightly between other vehicles all trying to the general area of "Kashmiri Gate", is affecting the Long Island Ice Teas I had last night in Zen. But enough of my digestive tracts, between the driver and I we decide that enough is enough and we about face and head back to the Red Fort. The Red Fort is an impressive edifice, but nowhere close to the one in Agra! I suspect due to the number of people who visit it en masse at the weekends. Whole families are using the gardens (?) as picnic areas and as a result the Fort has seen better days. 

Still though it is worth a visit, but wouldn't be top of my must see places in Mother India. The fact that it is very large in area means I'm hungry (no breakfast per se), by the time I get round, so in typical "Walker fashion" I go in with the locals to their cafe area and although somewhat pale by comparison, I'm fully accepted by them and not stared at by the locals. The other big plus is the fact that the locals have cheaper rates for everything, so my token lunch (it's that time already) is less than $2. My tattoo and the limited Hindi I now have is enough to ensure I'm not as bothered as some of the other nationals who're thronging the site! On that basis I decided to walk a bit before getting another rickshaw to Connaught Place, as I know I'll be able to use a loo there and I'm not going so native as to pee in the street(a fairly common sight). 

Whilst we're struggling through the traffic we come to a grinding halt in a jam, only to be assailed (as others were too!) by a group of transvestites demanding money for them not to curse you. I've seen this on Paul Merton's visit to India so the 6ft 2in sari wearing man with a couple of days stubble can take a hike, as can his mates who're equally ugly, even for men. Her (?) curse aside I should have offered him/her a loan of my electric razor as he/she is in dire need of it. I'll need to watch that none of my appendages drop off as a result of the curse. 

Connaught Place is where we were last night at the restaurant so I'm totally familiar with it and as such can wander at leisure, stopping for a cheese sandwich in something like Harrods or should it be Horrids from "Still Game". The process for buying something as cheap (?) as cheese sandwich is convoluted to say the least involving 3 separate paper transactions, (no wonder the Amazonian rainforest is in danger). I'm tackled by a shoeshine man offering to make my shoes shine like leather, that would be fine if I wasn't wearing suede shoes! From yesterday I'm stopped by the same guy asking if I want my ears unwaxed, I reminded him we'd met yesterday and he's asked me then. The intervening 24 hours had not seen an undue build up of wax in my "wing nuts" so his kind offer of a very cheap job was rejected. To cap off my day I'm taken back in quick order to Hauz Khas by a singing Sikh rickshaw driver, in the absence of anything other than noise pollution and honking horns it makes a nice change, so he got a tip for his efforts and he had me back at the apartments in enough time to avoid the inevitable accident I'd have had if we'd been caught in traffic! It's old firm day today so "C'mon the Hoops" and namaste from Delhi.

"O Tempore, O Mores" - 21st century and Cicero's Latin is still relevant !

 The Latin expression above is attributed to Cicero in the first century B.C. and generally means Oh what times and Oh what customs or in simplistic terms "Oh the times we live in ".

Marcus Tullius Cicero was born on January 3, 106 B.C.E. and was murdered on December 7, 43 B.C.E. His life coincided with the decline and fall of the Roman Republic, and he was an important actor in many of the significant political events of his time! He wasn't truly wealthy, nor was he particularly intelligent, but he was a devious schemer !  

Remind you of anyone in the 21st century political arena?

• Someone who is always trying to get his sticky mitts on money (especially someone else's).
• Cicero was a prolific writer but not necessarily with original philosophical ideas.
•  Who in todays government was an alleged journalist for the Telegraph under Max Hastings (who by the way thought he was as phoney as a nine bob note!).
• Who has been showing an immoral attitude towards women?
• Who has an indeterminate number of children?

Far be it from me to suggest that anyone might be slain as his political ambitions come to be uncovered as duplicitous, devious and designed for his personal benefit.

"O Tempore" indeed !

Political Anomalies in a Dystopian Britain

The political events of the past month in the UK as a whole, have created a morass and one which prompted a political and philosophical debate in Ashgrove, with Bunty's Honours degree in the topic being of paramount importance (and relevance).

We both struggle to understand why in today's society, there is the glaring anomaly of traditional socialist constituencies voting Tory and in particular this brand of Toryism!  

Hartlepool being a glaringly obvious example of this !

It would be too easy to just suggest that the electorate had become disenchanted with Starmer's version of Labour since the Tories have had such an elongated time in charge of Government policy and finances and it was not the Labour Party that were in control of national finances and budgets. 

The most ludicrous comment I have ever heard in my entire life on this topic was from a native of Hartlepool on LBC saying that the Tories had given them 9 foodbanks but Labour hadn't given them any ! 

Sweet mother of Jesus what has he between his wing nut lugs?

In Scotland, with our First Minister has been consistently showing the leadership that has propelled her and the SNP to a fourth term in office and this under the form of proportional representation that is deliberately constructed to avoid a landslide of whatever hue. This leadership too, had to fight the vagaries of a committee of enquiry based on unsubstantiated allegations of having misled Holyrood over the actions or otherwise of her predecessor.

1.        Why then do we have a young voter in the East End of Glasgow (hardly Bearsden) on the radio this morning purporting to vote Tory, bearing in mind we have two principal alternatives to the abhorrent party rejected totally up here since 1955 ?

2.       Why do we have a whole group of working class or indeed even unemployed, voters in Scotland who would gladly sacrifice their political principles on the basis that potentially their football team utilise the Union Jack/Butchers Apron in their support? 

3.        Why did we have the diabolical scenario of died in the wool socialists and right wing Scots Tories tactically voting for their hated adversaries merely to stop the rising tide towards Independence?

For the answer to these anomalies, Bunty and I have come to the conclusion that not just in the U.K. just now but across the globe generally there is a drift to the right and a haemorrhaging of care in society. 

In the U.K. but predominantly in England, this rise of the right is appearing to manifest itself in a form of xenophobia with the populace ire being directed towards "immigrants". This patently manifested itself in "Brexit". Scotland is by nature a "left of centre" country yet we too have inexplicable anomalies in voting patterns.

However that does not wholly explain the transfer of votes from left to right wing in political terms, and why people who are very, very far from being archetypal Tories in terms of income and wealth status are flocking to vote for the Boris Johnson version of Toryism..

Could it then be; A fundamental need for people to feel superior to someone else irrespective of how irrational it is in real terms?  

Think of the rise of the Third Reich in the 30's!  Not all Germans were fundamentally Nazi in outlook, but a combination of the global economic collapse and the Wall Street Crash allied to crippling reparations from WW1 had a domino effect on the population of an entire country.

This financial catastrophe had the German people looking for someone to blame, and the right wing of the new Weimar pointed to the Jews, Catholics, gypsies, homosexuals and anyone perceived to be less of a human than the "ruling" elite.

Back to the U.K. then !

Under this Tory Government (and earlier ones too!) we've had over a decade of "austerity" in which the cuts occasioned by their austerity programme have all been aimed not at the rich, but at those who depend on social security,  PIP benefits, working tax credits, incapacity benefit, unemployment benefit, job seekers allowance, housing benefit, universal credit etc;

Then ally all those perceived drains on the national economic purse to the equally illogical perception amongst the alleged "working class" (who are working themselves but for a pittance) that immigrants are flooding the straits of Dover in dinghy's to allegedly milk the system and you have a mirror of the situation in the Weimar Republic after the Wall Street Crash. Someone to blame after all !

Toss into the equation Covid and the pandemic and you have a truly poisonous brew. 

No mention whatsoever about the alleged corruption of Government contracts in which the coterie of Johnson's cabinet colleagues were dispensing multi billion pound contracts without tender !

Fortunately Scotland had sufficient support for the SNP to overcome the diabolical tactical voting and a proportional representation system (D'Hondt) which specifically is meant to ensure no party overwhelms the system.  Had the Holyrood election been held under the "First Past the Post" system as in Westminster, The SNP would have had 109 seats out of 129. Now that truly would have been a mandate for not just a referendum but a declaration of Independence !!

A final thought on this whole farrago is that Democracy will win out in the end and despite the Mainstream Media attempts to muddy the waters, Scotland will be a nation again and we are not despite what my colleagues and friends down south may or may not think a mere region of England

SAOR ALBA !

A Delhi Vista on my own !

 My sight-seeing tour of Delhi starts with the rickshaw ride to the India Gate a 1st World War memorial for less than a dollar. The journey takes about an half hour and although comfortable isn't a word I'd use to describe the ride in a rickshaw, it does the job since it can weave in and out of the traffic like someone (other than John Sargeant) on "Celebrity Come Dancing"! 

Next I head to Houma Yun's Tomb where out of a Delhi population of almost 14 million, my name is called out as I go through the turnstile (having paid full whack despite saying in Hindi that I'm Indian), the locals get in for 4% of the cost of foreigners. It's Barbara from Detroit, and she too is doing her own thing this weekend. However, she's staying in hotels and getting pampered too. The odds of meeting someone you know with that size of population must be pretty high. 

Next stop on this mini weekend break since Amritsar was cancelled, is the Rhashtrapati Bhavan or parliament buildings and the President's official residence! All of which are down the road from where I'd started (India Gate), but the road is about a couple of Kilometres long and my knees feel as though they're due to seize! 

With a combination of my knees and my stomach thinking my throat has been cut, I decide to call it a day with a portion of meat to be washed down with a large coke (such simple pleasures are all I need just now!) Another rickshaw back to the area we live in and the driver is trying his hardest to get me into an emporium on the way back. Thanks but no thanks I tell him as I'm totally dog tired and just need to get back to base! He's a nice guy so I give him the 20 rupee tip as opposed his lost commission! 

Namaste

Cox & Kings tour? I don't think so Shanta, Laiah and I are not so extravagant

 Three of the mature American/Canadian/English women are planning to visit Jaipur this weekend and you can't help overhear the organising since it is done at the dinner table. It sounds like another Cox & Kings tour in terms of expense with 6,000 rupee ($120) taxis and hotel rooms to match! 

I'm not a gambler, but I'm willing to bet the kids and I get the whole weekend cheaper in Amritsar than their hotel for one night and we've a 6hr train journey each way with 2 nights hotel to boot. We're going to see the Golden Temple and then go up to the border with Pakistan to see the changing of the guard, leaving on Friday afternoon and returning on Sunday evening. Everyone is out this afternoon at a festival and craft fair, but since I need some WD40 on my knee joints, I elected to go to the local market and get measured for a tailor made suit (like Nehru's) the whole thing is costing me less than the taxi the women will pay for, so I get a suit for round about 80 GBP. Last night we had a thunderstorm which was the mother of all thunderstorms and rain to match, even in Nigeria this would have been a talking point. Some of the females slept through it, but initially I thought the equipment working on the Delhi Metro system close by had collapsed the noise was so loud. 

Barbara surprised even me in the class today as she's bought the successful student a watch and a belt for his success and had written him a congratulatory card. What's the odds on some more having a job interview before she leaves? Sorry to hear your weather is so crap, but if it's any consolation my tan is coming along nicely! 

Just a fairly routine day on Thursday, the teaching went reasonably well and the girls and I had an invite for drinks and snacks at the house next door to their apartment While down at the market in the afternoon, I was tempted by an offer on shirts;

Buy one get two free and a free gift.

As you all know I have an inexplicable penchant for shirts so found resistance futile, the free gift turned out to be a leather belt. I couldn't have bought the belt in Markies for the price of the whole deal, so you've guessed it, I now have another 3 shirts.

Since the girls and I were going for drinks to Mr Yethandra Jafa and his wife Mamta's in the evening I also bought a bottle for them. I didn't try to hide it since it was a gift for them not for my consumption! You'd have thought I tried to kill a cow from the reaction of one of the deputies. This did annoy me as I'm not a child and know the rules with regards to alcohol in the flats. If I had intended drinking in a corner quietly, I sure as hell wouldn't have left it on the dining room table in front of all and sundry. Somewhat chastened by the verbal assault he got about treating people like adults (since the Boss knew I was doing it), everything is back on an even keel today (Friday)

The trip to Amritsar is cancelled since we can't get seats on the train, so since the matronly types are off elsewhere (to 4 star hotels) this means there are only a few of us left in the flats. This will mean we can go out on the town for a bit of sight seeing (and there is plenty to see in Delhi), and get a fancy meal somewhere in the posh end of town. Shit I may even have a vodka or three!

Yesterday while having my now bi-daily shave with a cut-throat razor, a guy who was totally out of his box on whatever, started giving the barber a hard time about something which I couldn't make out since the whole thing was conducted in Hindi, but I did hear the word Police and the barber pointing to me. I'm guessing he told the balooka I was a chief constable or something suitably impressive, as the potential blackguard backed off calling me officer. The truth is I wouldn't have clocked him anyway as he was totally out of his skull and had a wee kid in tow (who started crying because his father was a moron). They'd come from the tents (made from tarpaulin) across the road and if I had to live there I guess I too might have been legless!

Delhi is a kaleidoscope of noise, traffic, dusty streets and the occasional elephant, and has a population more than 3 times the whole of Scotland. Your senses are put through a high speed mixer every day and by the time we finish dinner in the evening there isn't really much you either can or want to do! Last night though was a very pleasant interlude with company outside the volunteers (except the girls and they are refreshingly good company) in another house!

I can't believe it is a quarter way through my period here already, but it is and Barbara leaves next week so I'll be back on my own with the students and will have to do more preparation for lessons than the winging style I'd thought would get me by!

Namaste Mera Dostes

The "Boy" done good ! More Delhi memories !

 Our young student who had the interview for a job yesterday has been successful, and everyone in the class is delighted for him! Although in one respect I'll be sorry that he's leaving, as he is (as they all are!) a charming young man with a reasonable command of English. Barbara set them all homework which made them do complete sentences using various synonyms. They had to use at least 12, and if they didn't hand it in after this last weekend I'd said they had to do 24 by the next day. 

Needless to say they had all accomplished their targets by this morning. (Rotten teacher!!) On the plus side they've all started to come in early which the Director is overwhelmed with. In case we forget how hard the Indians work, Guldeep is earning about $200 a month for working 8 hours a day, 6 days a week selling lap-top computers for Samsung. In the afternoon all the females went out to see temples/mosques. Hindu, Sikh and Muslim respectively, I ended up doing some shopping for good quality notebooks for these students, and at Barbara's insistence some cookies! She can't get the giving part out of her head (Bless her!), but in reality it isn't helpful for future volunteers as the staff at CCS had made so clear at the outset.

Random memories omitted from earlier posts;

• 5 people on a motorcycle
• motorised rickshaws with up to 7 people crammed inside
• no sign of road rage by anyone, in traffic that defies description
• camel driven carts in Agra
• more Royal Enfield motorcycles than you can shake a stick at
• generosity/kindness when you have little or nothing
• lorries whose load looks anything but secure
• monkeys galore in Agra & Fatehpur Sikri (one though an unfortunate victim of the roads)
• every meal being like going to an Indian restaurant with mates (well half of them!)
• the dhobi-wallah (laundryman) has to put hot cinders into his iron to work it, and he does this with his bare hands, since he has no electric iron for his ironing

This coming weekend the youngsters are going to Amritsar to see the Golden Temple (The Sikh equivalent of the Vatican), so I'm off with them! The others seem to be planning a visit to another hotel, in Delhi this time. Why put in for this volunteering if you can't let a weekend go without some form of luxury?

We've all been divided into teams and have a topic each relating to Indian culture, which we have to give a talk on next Monday. Our teams topic is #Dowries and arranged marriages#. On the topic of female emancipation (?) there's been a big stooshie in the papers for the last 3 weeks as a group of religious males took it upon themselves to beat up some women who'd gone to the pub in Mangalore! The women concerned weren't even single fished! What chance of this in Union Street?