Hope—for the “hopeless”

For far too long, the AngloIndian community has been hyphenated, disjointed, and broken, just like the “dash” between the two words that, in combination, define us. As we continue to bicker amongst ourselves, the world at large sees the advantage, pounces upon it, and produces a pandemic of “scholarly” dissertations as to who, what, why, where, and when, is an AngloIndian an Anglo-Indian. Even my computer is so used to the hyphenated definition of AngloIndian that it immediately underlines, in serrated red, the mistake I have committed. But, then, enough is enough.

The reason for this outburst, dear Reader, is the recent occurrence of the “World Anglo-Indian Day”, on 2nd August, 2025. I hear that it has been celebrated for 90 years now. I’ve still got 17 years to reach that magical figure, but I can surely state that I hadn’t heard of such a commemoration, the world over, for more than the last 10 years that have passed. You may deem me an ostrich, but I still think I am “an honourable man”.

I really have no quarrel with any celebration of any kind. I like a quiet Christmas, a sober New Year, a meaningful birthday—and these can extend to the family, but national holidays, religious holidays and similar others, are best “celebrated”, by me, in the comforting confines of my own home. Call me old-fashioned, call me out-dated, call me what-you-will, I have been programmed to listen to the sounds of silence, especially in my dotage.

Yes, I am aware that the AngloIndian community has appropriated that special day of the year. No one gave it to us, so we took it. I guess it is fair enough to hold on to something, even if it just a day in the calendar year that is probably celebrated by a sizable minority of this micro-miniscule community that finds itself in every corner of the world. To be blatantly and unapologetically dismissed by the Union Government for dwindling to a paltry and pathetic and plagiarized number of souls (the figure 296 still rankles me), we find that if we do not take, we will not be allowed to have. So much for “sabke saath”.

Now, let’s look at the lighter side. Do you know, dear Reader, what a “pangolin” is? If you don’t, please look it up. The “pangolin” has a special day earmarked for it in the international calendar. So, too, does the pig, the rhino, the sparrow, the seal, and a host of other living creatures, cutely categorizable as—in the words of the poet WB Yeats: “fish, flesh, or fowl”. But what actually caught my attention was the fact that there is also a “World Mutt Day”! We may have heard of a daft person being called a mutt, but the real meaning of the word “mutt” is: “a steadfast and sweet mixed-breed dog that is sometimes overlooked.” Even in the dog world, my dear Readers, there is discrimination—not by the dogs themselves, but by that other, more superficially superior species known as “homo sapiens”, or in simpler terms, “humans”. Do you recognize the connection?

The Native American Indians, who were the original owners of the North American continent, found themselves systematically ghettoed in confined spaces, conveniently called “reserves”. Before that time, the various tribes would gather for a POWWOW, an annual celebration of religious, or social, or even strategic significance. The Anglo-Indian has adopted the practice. The triennial “Reunion”, (the next one to be hosted by a city in South India) is actually a coming together of all the Anglo-Indian tribes—from Australia, New Zealand, the US, Canada, Britain, and so many other places. But where are the native AngloIndians? Most cannot afford such a luxury, while even the Anglo-Indians have their own preferences—the Grand Ball, or the Social Nite, usually being picked over all the other programmes.

I think I need to make some clarifications here. Right at the beginning, I referred to “AngloIndians”. These, I would like to categorize as Citizens of India. We may be down, but we are not out. We are no longer (or, at least, should not be) a hyphenated community, but totally integrated into the multitudinous fabric of Indian society. We may stand out, but we are never completely rejected by the mother of us all—Bharat Mata. She gave us life, and like all true mothers, she will never abandon one of her own. The politics may change, but the soul of Mother India is unchanged, unchanging, for ever and ever, Amen.

For the Anglo-Indian, I have only a bit of advice (if I may). You made a conscious choice: you need to stand by that commitment. Retain your roots, by all means, remember the country of your origin in song and dance and the fine arts, but don’t remain undecided any longer. The legendary Frank Anthony was right when he proclaimed that the more you honour and respect and serve YOUR country, the more your country will embrace and accept you. I am going to alter the old saying, if only to serve my purpose: “You can take an Anglo-Indian out of India, but you can never take the Indian out of the AngloIndian.”

India is the country—by choice—of the AngloIndians. We a salute one flag only, we sing only one national anthem, we believe in the brotherhood of all Indians, irrespective of caste, creed, colour, or conviction.

Day-dreaming, did I hear you say?

Even America woke up to the words: “I have a dream”.