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V Gangadhar

The Queen's a-visiting!

The people of Bombay are eating their hearts out. Queen Elizabeth II, now on an official visit to India, visited New Delhi, Madras and Fort Cochin, but not India's premier city. There are already talks on retaliation. Shiv Sena chief Bal Thackeray, I am told, is planning a visit to UK. He will visit Dover, St Mary Mead, Kittering and Durham, but skip London!

Bombayites can understand the queen visiting New Delhi and Madras. But Cochin? I mean, it is not a state capital, tourist site, industrial metropolis and the Malayalam film industry had no base there. Reports said that the queen's visit was arranged because Britain had offered economic aid to Cochin under the Overseas Development Authority programme. Big deal, scoff the Bombayites. How much can Britain afford to spend on aid, when our own prime minister has called it a "'third rate nation"?

I, for one, differ from my brethren in Bombay. In fact, I am happy that the queen visited Cochin. Some of my happiest, youthful years were spent in Cochin, which was then part of the former Madras presidency. I have nothing but pleasant memories of the place.

I wish the queen had visited the local collector's bungalow, which was our home for nearly three years. It was not strictly not a bungalow, but a fortress during the reign of the Portuguese. A massive stone structure, it nestled close to the Arabian sea. In fact, the waves were constantly dashing against the outer walls.

Amongst the relics left behind were two small cannons. The huge balcony almost jutted into the sea. On silent, moonlit nights, I sat there and dreamt of Vasco da Gama and other historical figures. The old peons who worked for us said that the bungalow was often haunted by 'foreign' ghosts, but we never came across any.

The queen, I am sure, must have visited the church where Vasco da Gama lies buried. The huge church was just two minutes away from the collector's bungalow. Adjoining it was the famous parade ground, which was used to stage local cricket matches and national football tournaments. I never missed any of these.

The Cochin Club of those days was dominated by Englishmen and Europeans and did not encourage Indians. But they had an exciting cricket team which, though low an averages, was high in providing entertainment. As a 12-year-old school boy, I was enthralled by the pace bowling of Peacock and Hutton and the big hitting of Hickey, whose huge sixes often landed on the roofs of the houses which surrounded the club.

The Cochin Club was led by a strong, silent, opening batsman, White, who had represented the 'Europeans' in the major cricket tournaments in Madras. During their practice session, I used to field with the them and it was my boyhood ambition to play, not for India, but for Cochin Club and open the bowling with Peacock!

Most of our neighbours were Englishmen who held important posts in firms which had British-sounding names -- Pierce Leslie, Gordon Woodroffe, Volkart Brothers and so on. They had huge American cars, mostly Buicks and Studebakers, and their children were wheeled around in bright prams by the local ayahs.

Christmas was gala time. The homes were brightly illuminated and the club festivities went on throughout the night. The foreigners never mixed socially with us. But many of them visited our home because they had some work with my father who was the senior civil servant in the area. "Oh, most of them are quite nice," father used to remark. "They know times have changed and that they no longer ruled India."

The British queen, of course, visited the fishermen's colonies which came under the British aid programme. One cannot dissociate fish from Cochin. Those famous Chinese fishing nets were located close to our bungalow, but the catch was never high. On the other hand, the boats which went into the sea for fishing, came back loaded.

I watched, fascinated, as the fish was unloaded on the shore and sold to the wholesalers. They were remarkably fresh, but in those days, I had not been initiated into the pleasures of eating fish. The odour was often strong, and we had to close our noses!

Fish was not the only attraction of the backwaters. Sometimes, fishermen in small boats waited patiently, holding harpoons in their hands. They were out to get the porpoises which often leapt out of the water and performed somersaults. But they were hard to catch and, during our stay in Fort Cochin, I never saw even a single propose harpooned.

I went to the local Santa Cruz High School were the headmaster, Krishna Mallaya excelled in teaching English. Kasinathan, dressed in dhoti, coat and tie, was a maths genius. The school did not have a cricket team, but fielded a strong football 11. The annual match against the hated rival school, St John Britto, was bitterly fought and raised passions similar to the Mohun Began vs East Bengal tie. During my three years at the school, we always emerged winners.

Football was the most popular sport in Cochin. The parade ground was the venue of an all India tournament. My favourites were the Cannanore teams -- Spirited Youths and Lucky Star. The latter had a great goalkeeper, Purushottaman, who played for Caltex, a glamorous Bombay clothing firm during the 1950's.

Leaving school was sad, but there were fresh adventures ahead. Like the hour long boat ride from Cochin to Ernakulam, where my college was located. Oh, it was a wonderful experience. I had just discovered the existence of girls. But then, boys and girls were totally segregated and seldom talked to one another. I would gazed fondly at my favourite girls and daydream of a time when the boat would sink I would become a hero by single-handedly rescuing them from the swirling waters. That was one dream that remained a dream.

Cochin broadened my outlook. We mingled freely with the local Christians, celebrated Christmas with them. The XL hotel, which was close to our home, baked splendid cakes. My best friend was Edgar Morris, who wore immaculate shorts, shoes and socks and tucked in his shirt. On most evenings, I and Edgar took long walks along the beach, breathing the fresh, salty sea air and dreaming of our future.

Cochin was a dream. We spent three years and they were not enough. Queen Elizabeth spent only five hours. She does not know what she has missed!

Collage: Dominic Xavier