The Railways, OK; What else?

If the Indian Railways are claimed to be a part of the Anglo-Indian heritage, it must be admitted that in the early years, the Community did receive preferential treatment, which actually translated into jobs. In the typical administrative scheme that the Brits adopted, the oft-lamented “divide and rule” policy, the Anglo-Indian employee played a dual role: as a link between the Brits and the local population, as well as a buffer between the two. Very few Anglo-Indians occupied top positions in the Railway during the years of British rule, though they perceived themselves the backbone of the work-force, not just because most of the rolling stock was handled by them. The backlash came not immediately after Independence, but the Anglo-Indian was, from that time onward, just another competitor for the post.

Whether or not this “all men are equal” policy was really implemented is for you, dear reader, to contemplate, but the exodus (to imagined greener pastures) began then, in earnest. Erstwhile Anglo-Indians have found gainful employment in the railway networks of the countries to which they migrated, but very few, if any, have made it to the upper echelons. I may well be very wrong here, so it is up to you, my readers, to educate me and point out my shortcomings, whatever they may be.

There were happier times, however, in the run up to national freedom and for about thirty years after that. Those times belonged to the club, or as we Anglos liked to call it, the Institute. Even here, the policy of discrimination was observed, for the Brits most often had their own Clubs, which were definitely out-of-bounds for lower-category staff. The Anglo-Indian Institutes—and there were quite a few of them doing pretty well in the smaller cities and towns—were, at best, semi-exclusive, but the average Indian always preferred to stay away. Some of the well-known Institutes in the South of India included Madras (now Chennai), Madura (now Madurai), Erode, Villupuram, Podanur and Arkonam (now Arrakonam); not forgetting the good old GOC, or Golden Rock, and Trichy. Again, I will state that my knowledge of Railway Colonies and Institutes in other parts of India is minimal; this can be a dangerous thing, so I must confine myself to my home state. Further, if any of you, my readers, can contribute regarding the famed Colonies of “Anglo-India”, I will most certainly include them in my Blog and acknowledge all written offerings too.

My visits to the Institute in Trichy (then Trichinopoly, now Tiruchchirapalli) began in the mid-1960s. It was during the Christmas holidays—the school term ran from January to December in those days—that the Institute really came alive. And the kids were always part and parcel of the festivities, which always began with a programme for children, every year proving riotous. Apart from the running races for different- age categories, there was the sack race, the three-legged race, the lime-and-spoon race and the mucky bun-and-treacle competition. I participated with enthusiasm in the sports events for quite a few years, but the dance hall beckoned unremittingly. I guess it must have been the same for any young chap in any of the above-mentioned places, and I’m sure the lasses were not left out too.

I must confess that I knew next to nothing about the other Institutes, but Trichy was bounteous enough. When I was completing school, the Institute had its own billiard room, a card room and a great number of chairs and tables for the numerous whist drives that were conducted. I did not get to use the facilities, but I did pick up on the game of whist, which, anyway, was not everyone’s cup of tea. At the regular Dances, there would be Bingo (or Tombolo, as it is also called) and the competition for the “Most Popular Lady”. This sometimes included some kind of gamesmanship, for the more well-to-do guys would buy up heaps of tokens, or buttons, or cards, to present to the belle they had chosen.

The Christmas season for the adults began in earnest on the 26th, with a Social, which served as a starter. This was followed on the 27th with a Whist Drive and Dance. On the 29th the same routine continued, but everyone was waiting for the Grand New Year’s Ball on the 31st.The Dances were always well attended and the merriment went on till the early hours of the morning. Trichy’s own Band, The Gaylords, was always in attendance and they played their hearts out, urged on by the Emcee of all Emcees—George Evers. Of course, for variety, we sometimes had the band from Madura—The Surfers—and they brought in the more recent music of those times, especially CCR. We certainly couldn’t ask for anything more.

The season never ended in those days. February brought up the “Valentines Day Ball”. This was followed by the “May Queen” and then the “June Rose”. Independence was celebrated with a bang, often with two bands in attendance. Then came the Dances organized by the past students of Trichy’s two most famous Anglo-Indian Schools. After that, Christmas was not too far away again.

I attended every dance that Trichy had to offer in those days. I learned early that to get a chance, you had to be off the blocks in a flash. My close friend Daryl, and I, would arrive at the Institute before the scheduled start of the session and I’m sure you can guess why. The rest of the evening was just swell, because we loved to dance—what better way to spend a not-very-long evening twirling the girl of your choice around the dance-floor!

All gone, dear reader, gone for good. Even the boarded floors have been scrapped. But not forgotten—never to be forgotten. And with the abandonment (or cold neglect) of the Institutes, a way of life passed on into the void.

Am I, too, then, an ineffectual angel?