H.Kishie Singh is based in Chandigarh and has been a motoring correspondent for newspapers like The Statesman, New Delhi and The Tribune.His column ‘Good Motoring’, for The Tribune ran for over 27 years. He has been also been the contributing editor for magazines like Car & Bike, Auto Motor & Sport and Auto India. His latest book Good Motoring was published recently and has co-authored a book with The Dalai Lama, Ruskin Bond, Khuswant Singh and others, called The Whispering Deodars.


Sunday, 30 August 2020

DELHI BELLY

Having been born, bread and educated in Shimla, now Shimla, I had many opportunities to visit some of India’s most beautiful hill stations the British built and left behind for us to rape and ruin.

Dagshai, Sabathu, Mashobra, Kasauli, Sanawar, Dalhousie, Mussoorie, Landsdowne, Dharamshala. Then there are names like McLeod Ganj, Forsyth Ganj and Boileau Ganj.

One thing they all had in common was a Church. All were magnificent buildings, replicas of what they had back in Old Blighty. After all whether The East India Company or The Empire, the credo was For God, King and Country. 

The Church served the community well. It looked after the flock and was responsible for all weddings and funerals.

As such, invariably there was a cemetery attached to the Church.

I visited many of the Churches. They were beautiful and dignified in their grandeur.

I was fascinated by the cemeteries and was curious about their purpose. The highly polished head stones, sometimes with carved marble angels and saints were beautiful. They were set in well tended grassy lawns. Cobbled stoned paved walkways were laid out in between the tombs.

The cemeteries, along with the Churches were set in sylvan surroundings atop heavily forested hill tops with Deodar trees, most dating back to around the mid nineteenth century. In those days it would have been easy to find a hill top with Deodar trees, the cedrus deodora.

These trees stretch from the Hindukush Mountain range in Afghanistan in the Western Himalaya to the Gandaki in Nepal and beyond to Sikkim and West Bengal. This is one of the most heavily forested areas in the world.

Which is why all the hill stations are so well situated with Natures abundant bounty standing as silent sentinels.

It is easy to understand why all the hill stations the British built in the Himalaya are considered to be the best examples of hill architecture, built entirely with wood- the cedrus deodora!

It was a history lesson walking through these cemeteries. It was also a geography and botany lesson finding out the names of the trees and flowers.

Yes! There were beautiful flowerbeds carefully placed dotting the manicured lawns of the cemetery.

Also reading the epitaphs from the tomb stones was an education.

“’ Bye Tommy.

Missed by your Mummy, Daddy and Noisy, your faithful dog.”

This one I remember very well because I named my dog Noisy!

Another point in common. Many of the dead were youngsters, in their late 20’s or early 30’s. And so many of them had O.B.E after their names. I had no idea what that meant. So, naturally I turned to my Father for an explanation. My Father was a cornucopia of information, knowledge and humour.  

One day while out for a walk we took a break.

There were beautiful walks in and around Shimla in those days. Motorcars were banned. You walked! That simple! Along the way there were benches with wooden slats supported by wrought iron side frames for one to relax and enjoy the scenery.

As we were sitting quietly, I popped the question to my Father.

I told him that I had visited a number of Churches and cemeteries. On many a tombstone after the person’s name the letters O.B.E. were written. What did it mean?

It’s a long story he said. Britain being an Island Nation was not exposed to European influences.

They had been at war with France for a couple of hundred years. Anything French was abhorrent to them.

Being an agrarian nation they had plenty of cattle, sheep and pigs. Along with barley, wheat, potatoes and beet. This provided a very wholesome meal. They boiled everything to cook it.

Unlike the French, Germans and other continental nations they did not experiment with their food.

Boil it, eat it, and add salt to taste! They had not tried any of the spices that had made India famous. They were quite content with the bland fare that they ate. They knew nothing else.

It was good simple wholesome food. Easy to cook and easy to digest! I don’t think anyone in the British Isles ever had an upset tummy!

Then they came to India! The land of numerous spices and chillies of every colour and every potency!

Indian cuisine hit them where it hurt most, in the gut!

The Indian cooks knew no other way of cooking without using spices.

In no time the recent arrival to India would be suffering from diarrhoea. It was said an Englishman would taste his food twice. Once when he ate it and again when it came out!

This would lead to severe dehydration, a very serious condition especially in a hot tropical country.

So medication was the answer. This the patient could not keep down. The result was vomiting.

Now, here was a patient fading fast, vomiting at one end and diarrhoea at the other end.

Sad to say, the patient did not survive! After the funeral and the burial the family would erect a headstone on the grave. The epitaph would have the name of the disease followed by O.B.E. The date of birth and death was also mentioned.

“Yes Dad,” I asked patiently, “what does it mean?”

Answered my Father with a serious look on his face, “O.B.E. stands for Open at Both Ends!”

And that friends is the genesis of Delhi Belly!

 

Another interesting epitaph;

Here lye the bones

Of Christopher Beps,

He came down the stairs

Without using the steps!

 

Another modern day epitaph;

Here rests Emily White,

She signalled left,

Then turned right!

 

The Brits may have lost their Empire but not their sense of humour!

 

Submitted by:

H. Kishie Singh

98140-11567