There he was, on Peshawar's train station pavement, wearing a blazer, straw panama, grey slacks, some sort of dam tie and, to cap it off, an umbrella, furled. Take note, natives, here am I.
And they did, by saluting sharply. The Raj, you see, had returned. Perhaps you think this some kind of made up, ha-ha joke. Think again. No, early 1980s.
Lord Curzon forever,
LSP
