What makes Uniqueness

My first sentence last week was that the Anglo Indian is “unique”. That statement needs justification, and I intend to do just that, this time around.

The community, my community, is the only linguistic, religious, and cultural entity in the world to be defined in the Constitutional records of any country. It is a matter of pride, and gratitude, that Mother India has enshrined that definition. Article 366(2) accurately identifies “who” is an Anglo Indian, and there can be no dispute regarding its scope and limitations. That Article still stands, though the others—Article 331, 333, and 336 have been peremptorily scrapped. So, while the Anglo Indian is denied reservation using trumped-up statistics, he/she remains a citizen of India, by all rights and purposes. Isn’t that unique, my dear Reader? He/She is a victim of circumstance—with a right to vote, but with no chance of being voted for. A double distinction, don’t you think? Unique, at any rate! Furthermore, since the English language is also part of the definition of Anglo Indian, it is indeed unique that English is one of the most predominant languages used by the country. Politics apart, every “neta” wants his children enrolled in the most prestigious English-medium schools across the country, and to hell with the politics that says he can’t. Unique, I repeat. The language of one of the tiniest recognised minority communities in India is the lingua franca of the nation, though, as they say, there’s many a slip between the cup and the lip. Indian English is as bad as Anglo Indian English, but at least it’s recognisable. As someone rightly said: “English is the Goddess Saraswati’s gift to the nation”.

In the early years of nation building, and much before that time, too, the Anglo Indian has been in the forefront. Take, for example, that gargantuan enterprise known as the Indian Railways. No one, not even the most powerful politician can deny the contribution of the community towards providing a life-line for the entire country. All over India, in the big cities and in the remotest areas, the Anglo railwayman gave everything to his job. In a way, the job defined him, whether he was a khalasi, a fireman, an engine driver, a guard, or a telegraphist. It was also his way of expressing his love for his country, because the entire network was a part of his bigger family. And what a family! What a lifestyle!

What a fall, now!!

The Railway life was preserved for as long as the steam engine ruled the roost. The colony in which the worker lived was self- contained, self- sufficient, and self-satisfying. It had a church somewhere in the vicinity, it had its Institute, complete with boarded floors for dancing, and moderate play areas for sport. All the year round there were activities to keep everyone interested and the Christmas-season celebrations were events to die for. I was—and still am—close to being the last generation that lived the “Anglo” way of life; though I’ve done pretty well for myself, I’m guessing that any of my kind, who lived and loved and listened to that way of living, will never trade it for riches and glory. In that way, and in many more ways, I too, am unique.

I’ve only just started down this road, dear Readers. There’s much more to come in the future. That’s because “uniqueness” has staying power. The embers can still burst into flame.