An English Girl's Indian Childhood during the Raj

Studying Indian history in India, one gets a picture of British rule in India being truly awful in many ways. Yes, the British built railroads, but the railroads had more to do with themselves and their trade than with Indians. And yes, the British were also responsible for developing the country's post and telegraph systems but those systems probably served their own interests more than they served Indian interests. For the average Indian, British rule meant much higher taxation than Indian emperors and kings used to levy. It meant the existence of some roads to travel to places most Indians never travelled to. It also meant widespread starvation and deprivation. And for the country as a whole, it meant the redirection of not only national resources to a foreign land but also the theft of tangible pieces of history and culture to another country. As far as India is concerned, the less said about the theft / annexation of Indian treasures, the better.

The strange thing is that this isn't a view shared by the British in general. Some time ago, I read a book called 'The Sun in the Morning' by M M Kaye (the author of 'The Far Pavilions') about the early years of her childhood which she spent primarily in Shimla and Shahjahanabad (in Old Delhi). In it, she repeatedly speaks of thinking of India as her country, and that in itself is understandable since she was then a child who lived in India and did not really think of England with its grey skies as 'home'. Her father, she says in the book, reminded her that India belonged to Indians but she didn't really understand that --- to her, India was her country.

What surprised me though was that she also repeatedly seemed to speak of the sacrifices the British made to serve not in India but to serve India. While it can hardly be denied that the British who worked in India did have to make sacrifices being separated from their native land and, in some cases, from their families, it seemed very strange to me that the tone of the book suggested that those sacrifices had been made not for the benefit of the British Empire but for the benefit of India.

Having always looked at the Raj from the perspective of an Indian, it seemed stunning to me that the author, writing as an old lady, could somehow think that Englishmen serving English interests in India was analogous to Englishmen serving India. She says that they --- or perhaps she specified that it was some of them, I don't remember --- loved India. And while I don't dispute that some of them probably did, as interesting as I found her book, I could not find it in myself to be sympathetic to the British for all the sacrifices they had to make to enrich themselves at India's expense.

That being said, I loved getting a glimpse into what life was like during the Raj. Most of all, I enjoyed the author's descriptions of what is now the national capital region. To her, Okhla was a 'picnic' spot no one ever went to that was infested with crocodiles. Today, it is an area no one would ever want to go to because it is jam packed with traffic and ugly concrete buildings. The Taj Mahal was a monument which was rarely visited by anyone --- she was a child in the days before the Age of Tourism. And when she visited the site where the foundations of New Delhi were being laid, she thought it was the most desolate spot in which anyone could build a city --- today, it is where most of the country's Central Government buildings stand.

The Last Flicker in the Lamp of Mughal Architecture

Safdarjung's Tomb.

Safdarjung's Tomb is a strange place. It's not an important monument, so it's not very crowded.

The average person on the road where it stands has no idea what on Earth it is, let alone where it is. They'll give you directions to the locality Safdarjung, to Safdarjung Enclave, and, if you ask, to Lodhi road. But God help you if you ask for the Tomb: all you'll probably get is a blank stare. You'll be asked what it is, and be informed by the helpful that the road you're standing on is not Aurobindo Road but Arvind Road. And that's despite the fact the the Tomb's entrance is bang on the main road, at the T-junction of Lodhi Road and Aurobindo Road.

Inside, the lawns aren't particularly well maintained; there are over 300 sq m of them. Nor is anything else as well maintained as it is in other more well known monuments. The good thing though is that there are few people around because it isn't, well, iconic.

The Tomb is that of Mirza Muqim Abu'l Mansur Khan who was the Viceroy of Oudh under Muhammad Shah and was later his Prime Minister. It was built by his son Shuja ud Daula in 1753, and marble to build a part of Safdarjung's tomb was taken from the nearby tomb of Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khana, one of Akbar's nine gems, which had been built around 1598. 

Safdarjung's tomb is widely described as 'the last flicker in the lamp of Mughal architecture at Delhi'. It may well be that. While it certainly doesn't have the grandeur of Humayun's Tomb, (or many other structures), it is impressive in its own right. In fact, it has the garden-tomb layout which Humayun's Tomb inspired.

Walking around it, it's all too easy to develop a sense of having history come crashing down on one. And then again, when one walks into it, one can almost feel as though one is invading someone's privacy.

There are areas inside the complex which have been locked. Others which are inaccessible to visitors. But for the most part, visitors can look around with little interference. Sometimes, as good as that sounds, it is hardly ideal. There are no safety warnings and there are places where you could quite easily break a leg if you were to fail to watch your step.