Why does man want to return to the ruins of the past, the memories of Papa and of McCluskieganj, the smell of his accursed forebears in his very breath? These thoughts raced through Robin’s mind. His father had struggled a lot to establish himself in Hong Kong, yet he never belonged there in spirit. To this day Dennis, as always, lived in McCluskieganj. ‘This is a matter of one’s roots! When they weaken, every moment becomes a burden,’ Dennis had said. Robin felt that his father held on to his roots through his memories and he was his fellow companion. Did he not try like Dennis to clutch at these memories as well? Was it not a collective effort? Memory and reality continued to play hide-and-seek with him. Dennis’s dreamy voice always echoed in Robin’s ears. ‘Hey, Robin!’ Dennis would say, ‘Even in those days, people referred to
McCluskieganj as “Little London”. What was so special about the place? It may have been a riddle for outsiders, but the answer was simple: this village was perhaps the only one in the world that had been established as a settlement for the Anglo-Indians. Yet it is sad that after so much fanfare, the sleepy little place is called “Ghost Town.” Possibly because the Anglo-Indian community had itself become an ill-fated ghost community of late.’
‘What brought about such a turn of fate?’ Robin asked Dennis. ‘I am coming to the point son,’ said Dennis. ‘First try to understand the matter.’ Dennis would once again delve into the history of his village. ‘The state of Bihar in India whose southern part is essentially tribal, is known as the Chhota Nagpur area. Why the Anglo-Indian community chose to settle here in the 1930s is an old story.’ Robin was enraptured by his father’s story; to him there was none to rival his father as a storyteller. Dennis responded with a smile: ‘In those days, it was rumoured among the gullible tribals that the soil of McCluskieganj had been sent to London to be tested for its suitability for the Anglo-Indians. Mr McCluskie’s father was an Irishman who worked in the railway service. While posted in Benares, he fell in love with a Brahmin girl and married her, despite loud protestations from all around…’
Mr Ernest Timothy McCluskie had since childhood seen the anguish of the Anglo-Indian community. So, he had wanted to do something for them, especially after the Simon Commission had clarified that the British would not do anything for them.
Mr McCluskie, who was already a member of the Bengal Legislative Council and had a well-established real estate business, decided that he would find a permanent place for his community that needed an Indian identity. It took about four years for him to realize his dream.
There were Anglo-Indian settlements in Bandra in Bombay, in Whitefield in Bangalore and in Calcutta’s Elliot Road, but few could accept that Anglo-Indians would ever settle in a village. Mr McCluskie had a point to prove, that his Anglo-Indian community could live in a village, just like thousands of Indians did. The start was good and this lasted for about twenty years, but afterwards the society hurtled towards a break-up. Many Anglo-Indian families went abroad, and soon this village, came to be known as ‘Ghost Town’.
Dennis said, ‘For this we were to blame. We tried to connect with the rural way of life but could not. We were a graft that did not take root. A Utopia is at best a fantasy, never a reality; for an idea to succeed, it must be rooted in pragmatism.’
Robin wanted Dennis to go even further back in time and describe to him his grandmother, his great-grandmother and so on before those sepia-toned photographs receded into oblivion.
While other children were being told fairy tales, Dennis had related stories from his treasure trove to Robin. These stories went as far back as 1498. How the great Portuguese traveller, Vasco da Gama had arrived in a port in Kerala. Vasco da Gama had heard stories of the absurd wealth of India. He brought many sorrows which were revealed much later. But it was his arrival that showed the path, to India, to other European trading communities as well. The result was a jostling for the Indian trade market. Two years on, the great Portuguese general, Pedro Cabaral, also arrived. He entered into business with the Rajah of Cochin. This business grew rapidly because of his proximity to the king. Dennis told Robin, ‘During the next one hundred and sixty-two years, the Portuguese did much by way of consolidating their influence on the Indian business scene. Cabaral succeeded in convincing the royal family that he and the Portuguese shared a kindred spirit with them. However, the underlying element was obviously one of subterfuge. Thanks to the machinations of Vasco da Gama, Pedro Cabaral and Afonso de Albuquerque, whose plan was to start a line of Portuguese Indians, the continuity of this race in India was ensured. These Portuguese Indians were called Luzo-Indians. Albuquerque let his government know that the Portuguese should be encouraged to marry Indian women.
‘Taking their cue from the Portuguese, the English, the Dutch and the French too turned their attention towards the East for trade and commerce. The British were the last to come and, routing them all, stayed to rule India the longest. As a result, the interaction between the Englishman and the Indian women had increased leading to a repetition of the problem of half-breeds. These half-breeds thought it wise to join the mainstream of the British Indian populace. They went to the extent of acquiring British names and a British lifestyle. Yet, ironically, fear always stalked the community. Lord Curzon had once remarked, “The Lord had made us, he made the Indians and we made the
Anglo-Indians.”’
Dennis said, ‘Robin, this had been the cause of frustration for the Anglo-Indians. It was the touch of their colour that became their curse. They were neither here nor there, neither English nor Indian. They were half and half, just eight annas, blacky-white, chichis, always incomplete. Their skins were fair, their hair blonde, their language English, but the blood that flowed through their veins was Indian. They were British from without and Indian from within. Yet the Indians never accepted them as one of them, just as the British treated them as pariahs—a community relegated to the dustbin, throwaways. Still India gave them shelter and mentioned in her constitution, the definition of Anglo-Indians. A person whose father or any any other male progenitors in the male line is or was of European descent but who is domiciled within the territory of India and is or was born within such territory of parents habitually residents therein and not established there for temporary purposes only before India’s independence. Mr McCluskie proved that the Anglo-Indian community could carve a niche for itself.’