The time when Papa was thrown by a horse . . .

In the U.K, like in many other places, we are navigating our way through another lockdown. There have been some noticeable differences from our first lockdown experience. For one thing, the frenzy of freshly baked sourdough and/or banana bread pictures popping up on my instagram feed has significantly lost momentum! I also think we have managed to (just about) avoid a repeat of that “buy-ALL-the-toilet-roll-you-can-see” mayhem that was going on in the springtime last year. It got me to thinking of how much adapting we are having to do and of how adaptable we are capable of being. This ability to change (however reluctantly) has been, is and will be the key to our success and survival. Darwinism aside, this adaptability reminded me of a story that Papa told me about when he first came to England from India in the late 1950s.

My Papa’s voyage to the U.K was on the “SS Strathnaver” which he boarded at Mumbai. He shared the journey with about 1000 other people. Their trip should have taken 2 weeks but, because of issues at the Suez Canal, the Strathnaver had to “go the long route". During this time, Papa was declared champion of the ship’s on board “Deck Tennis” championships . . . something he always tells me when he mentions this story and so I cannot possibly leave it out! (Just FYI - Deck Tennis was a sport commonly played on deck of cargo and passenger ships. It involved no racket or ball but used a donut shaped ring which was thrown over a net between teams. It was a sort of hybrid between tennis/badminton and volleyball.)

Anyway, back to the story . . . around 3.5 weeks later the ship finally docked at Tilsbury in the U.K. There were no mobile phones, faxes, emails, video calls or text capabilities in those days and so Papa’s first priority was to send a cable home to his father to let him know he had reached safely. The sense of separation from India, from everything he knew and loved was immense. PitaJi (my paternal grandpa) had saved up for Papa’s ticket and put him on the ship as a way of literally gifting Papa what he hoped would be the chance to build a better life… an exciting but daunting prospect, especially as there was great trepidation as to how accepted he might be in this new country.

Thankfully, there were two people very happily waiting to greet him the moment he stepped off the Strathnaver. He was met by both of his older brothers (they will feature in other posts) who had made the same journey earlier. They promised to teach Papa everything he needed to know to get through his days as uneventfully as possible. “Uneventfully” seems a strange word to use but, whilst there were many, many kind and welcoming people to immigrants like my family, there were also many people who were not. Overt and casual racism were everywhere and were directed at a huge variety of targets. Just finding first lodgings proved to be a huge challenge as most Landlords stipulated “no coloureds or Irish.” The ones that were actually open to having an Indian lodger, demanded specific assurances that there would be “no curries” cooked in the lodgings because of the “awful smell.”

The food adjustment was a particularly big one and not helped by the fact that his mother was an outstanding cook. Papa’s parents were strict Hindu vegetarians. This means all dairy products are allowed but eggs, fish and meat are not. However, Papa and his siblings were allowed (if they wanted) to occasionally eat eggs or meat if offered at someone else’s home. Apparently one of their neighbours in Lucknow (shoutout to Lala Lal Chand and his family), sometimes cooked lamb at home and so Papa would eat a little lamb curry when invited to join them. He didn’t know it at the time but this flexibility ended up being quite useful for him as he began to acclimatise to the new foods of England.

All the spices, sunshine fruits, huge variety of vegetables were quickly replaced by foods with far simpler flavours. Papa’s eldest brother quickly advised him to start eating eggs regularly and told him that “fried egg, chips and buttered bread” was a very popular meal which was cheap, filling and tasty. As a result, Papa ate that exact meal at the same cafe, near his college, pretty much every day for about 6 months! When everything around you is foreign and you are having to absorb new information, expectations and behaviours all day long, having consistency in some things is very reassuring . . . so this was his fried egg comfort blanket.

However, there is only so much egg, chips and buttered bread a person can eat . . . especially when they are longingly watching other people tucking into all sorts of other (probably) yummy food. Papa began mentally processing what steps were needed to instigate a culinary change in his life and he approached this with the methodical thought process of the research scientist he was to become:

Observations: What food had he seen other people eat at the cafe? What seemed to be the three most popular orders? What made those orders popular? Was it price/quantity/component parts/taste?

Conclusion: There was a clear winner. A roast beef Sunday lunch. It looked delicious, there were numerous component parts (all the trimmings) and so this showed value for money and everyone seemed to love it. Most importantly, it would mark a big step in terms of cultural assimilation.

Conveniently ignoring the fact that beef is a definite No-No for Hindus, he pushed ahead with his plan. Decision made, he decided to spend a couple of days practising how to pronounce his new order correctly so that he would be ready for his bovine debut. “Rooooassssst Beef and YorkShIRE Pudding” . . . with him pronouncing the “Shire” part very specifically as if a Hobbit-in-Training. He still pronounces it like that now (he has not become a Hobbit though).

Sunday came. This was the day! Papa was psyched up and reached the cafe all ready to place his new order. He approached the counter, took a deep breath and then the lady behind the counter, did what she had begun to do some months before, which was to shout out, “fried egg, chips and two buttered breads!” to the kitchen the moment she saw Papa’s face! Dammit! She was too speedy and, dammit, he was too polite to ask her to cancel it! This combination of her excellent customer service plus his polite, resignation to just accepting that status quo went on for a few more Sundays.

Finally, with a renewed sense of determination, Papa decided un oeuf was un oeuf (see what I did there?). Another Sunday came. Today was the day. Papa knew eggs-actly where he had been going wrong. He walked through the canteen door and immediately put his hand up as if making a “Stop” sign. He walked up to the counter and, heart thumping, Papa slowly and deliberately placed the new order he had been practising for weeks. The lady behind the counter, realising that she was witnessing a momentous step, was almost as excited as Papa. Their conversation went something like this:

Cafe Lady: “Do you want cabbage, carrots & peas with that, Love?”

Papa: “Yes please. Thank you very much."

Cafe Lady: “Do you want roast, boiled or mashed potatoes with that, Love?”

Papa: “Roast potatoes, please. Thank you very much.”

Cafe Lady: “And do you want gravy, Love?”

Papa: “Yes please. Thank you very much.”

Cafe Lady: “And horseradish too, Love?”

Now what happened next was a series of words flashing through Papa’s brain at warp speed. This isn’t a quote of course but what you will read next is my guess at Papa’s internal monologue. To make it as authentic and experiential as possible, before you read it, please jog on the spot for 5 mins until you feel your pulse gently thudding and you have a slightly clammy forehead . . . only once your heart is racing and you have begun to sweat lightly will you be ready to read on:

Papa’s Brain to Papa: “What? What? Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat???? Did she say Horse??! Horse??? Horse something ? Horse? Err, are you okay? Your heart is pounding.”

Papa back to Papa’s Brain: “I feel a bit hot. Oooooof it’s quite warm isn’t it? I don’t know if I feel too well.”

Papa’s Brain to Papa: “She said Horse. Definitely she said Horse. Oh God!!! Did she say Horse?!?!”

Papa back to Papa’s Brain: “No. She can’t have. I have prepared, practiced and rehearsed this for weeks. There has never been a horse. Where the hell has this horse come from??? Nobody told me anything about a Horse?!”

Papa’s Brain to Papa: “Okay, okay. Keep calm. We can handle this. Stop sweating man! Take a deep breath, you know what you have got to do.”

And with that Papa then heard his own voice say, “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll just have the fried egg and chips today, after all.”

Heart still racing, he had never been so happy to see a fried egg again so soon.

Some weeks later though, this equine confusion got cleared up and Papa enjoyed his first Sunday lunch and, although it may seem small to you/me, for Papa it felt like a significant step towards embracing change, a new country and a new culture. He doesn’t eat beef anymore but a British Sunday lunch with all the trimmings is still one of his favourite meals and I am happy to report that he is now able to enjoy them without breaking into a hot sweat or having palpitations. And for those of you who haven't realised, the photo I have used is clearly not of a horse. Those strange looking things are horseradishes.

I am proud to say that Papa very successfully built his better life and from the giddy heights of Deck Tennis Champion, he gained his PhD, became a Fellow of the Royal Society of Chemists, Fellow of the Institute of Materials, Fellow of the Technology of Surface Coatings and a lot more of that sort of thing. He has had an amazing career in industry as a research scientist and, without realising it, he displays most of the qualities that an eccentric scientist can have. All of these things are obvious achievements to be celebrated and proud of . . . but this story is actually a reminder to all of us right where we are in the here and now. This is a reminder to acknowledge and celebrate our smaller achievements in these challenging times. These small changes, combined with an unwavering focus on a positive outcome can lay the foundations for great, great things ahead.

So, whatever challenges you might be experiencing at the moment and however chaotic and uncertain things around you might seem, please take a minute to find and celebrate your small wins and the various adjustments you have made, are making and will make. In some years' time you will realise that they weren’t that small after all.