Behold The Raj Today

 

1947, that fated hour when the bankrupt Raj handed over to Asian Subcontinent. All yours, as it were, and you can't help but be moved by Sandhurst's Indian Army room, I assume it still exists. But, curiously, the Raj lives on as evidenced by its former units, not least cavalry:

Is there a moral in this? Of course there is, but in the meanwhile...

Eyes right!

LSP

Shattered

 

What! I looked at the phone and it looked at me, broken and shattered like a mute parable of the state of our nation. Seriously, what isn't broken right about now. Our governance, borders, elections, finance, and all that it is to come together as a country; who we are as a nation?

Shattered glass aside, I went into the T Mobile shop to get a fix for the phone I'd foolishly dropped the night before, "I need a new phone, this one's glass is shattered like the state of Union itself."

Bonnie Blue

Of course they could have got right on it but here's the thing, I was invisible to their system, off grid. No kidding, no IMEI, no social, no name, no nothing, the manager wasn't even allowed, by the system, to access my account. "What do you actually do?" he asked, "That," I replied, "is a very good question."

We looked at each other in a moment of understanding. "Look, man, all I want to do is sell you a phone, at the right price." I thought for a moment, "Yes, that's what I want too, we think as one." And we did.

Sure, it took a while, but in that time we talked of late antiquity, the ruins of Rome in the 6th century, Detroit, architecture as a reflection of the soul of a nation and how we're sadly wanting in that regard, and so much more besides.

Probyn

As time went interminably call-center on I amused myself by marching about the store and saluting, Brit style, various icons, images of phones. "Eyes Left!" Quite the drill movement, to say nothing of about turn on the march and let me tell you, all were impressed. As in open order, right dress! Ahem.

Militarist gymnastics over I checked out with a brand new nicely discounted phone, and learned that the manager of the shop's cousin(?) was a Captain and that his store associate had just left Ft. Hood after 4 years of service. 

She told me, "I cried when I left." She loved Ft. Hood and the Army and has serious disabilities to contend with. "I will pray for you," I offered, and meant it wholeheartedly. 

What a good store. I love these people and wish them well. By the left.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Behold The Glory Of The Raj

Richard Wellesley famously said that India needed to be governed from a palace instead of a country house. That happened and the President of India lives there today. 

US President @realDonaldTrump's cavalcade arrives at Rashtrapati Bhavan for ceremonial reception@POTUS @PMOIndia @IndianEmbassyUS @USAmbIndia @PressSec@robertcobrien@Scavino45#TrumpIndiaVisit

Watch #TrumpIndiaVisit on DD India LIVE: https://t.co/FIqrREvyOE pic.twitter.com/Uw2tyuOx1Q

— DD India (@DDIndialive) February 25, 2020

President Trump and America's First Lady were welcomed to Rashtrapati Bhavan by a ceremonial guard of honor and a 21 gun salute. The spirit of the Raj loomed large and you have to wonder at the thing; the Mall, Rotten Row, an Edwardian Baroque Blenheim Palace (?) and the Cotswolds all supersized and rolled in with India to fit the dignity of their Imperial Majesties and Viceroy.

So 45 was welcomed by Lancers, yes they still exist, Gurkhas and a formation made up of members from the three services. Stirring, at least for me, at every level. But was anything missing?

US President @realDonaldTrump greeted with 21- GUN in an honourable welcome at Rashtrapati Bhavan@POTUS @PMOIndia @IndianEmbassyUS @USAmbIndia @PressSec@robertcobrien@Scavino45

Watch #TrumpIndiaVisit on DD India LIVE: https://t.co/FIqrREvyOE pic.twitter.com/8bztoQ5Bwz

— DD India (@DDIndialive) February 25, 2020

Yes, surely Trump and the First Lady would've looked better in uniform and in a carriage, more in keeping with their cavalry escort than the Beast, awesome as that is. Also, and it's a big also, the Viceroy wasn't there because there isn't one.

Too bad, Great Britain, for not realizing the Commonwealth vision that could have been and might still be. In the meanwhile, well done President Trump and Melania for flying the flag and keeping America great. Well done India too, for such a welcome.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Apropos of Awesome

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

Cooking With LSP, Just Throw it in The Pot

One of the many benefits of Easter is that you get leftover lamb. What do you do with all that lamb? Cut it up and throw it in the pot with diced onions and garlic, and fry it in olive oil and butter. 

Add some curry powder, tomato and chili powder. Don't be shy, chuck it in. After all, this isn't a fancy pants Ivy League curry, or a Druid Hill, Trump 2016, I went to Emory curry. No, it's just a rough and ready, throw-it-in-the-pot, take it as you find it curry.

Let it simmer, as you drink a cold beer. I like Fosters, which reminds me of England, even though it's from Australia.

Perhaps you roll out some dough and make naan bread in an iron skillet, perhaps not, there's no "rule." And then, simmer over, serve with rice and eat that scoff like a warrior.

Cheers,

LSP

The Ballad of East and West

This one's for LL. The Ballad of East and West, by Kipling.


Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border side,
And he has lifted the Colonel's mare that is the Colonel's pride:
He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day,
And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away.
Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that led a troop of the Guides:
``Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?''
Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan, the son of the Ressaldar,
``If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know where his pickets are.
At dusk he harries the Abazai---at dawn he is into Borair,
But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare,
So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly,
By the favour of God ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tonuge of Jagai,
But if he be passed the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then,
For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain is sown with Kamal's men.
There is rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between,
And ye may hear a breech-bolt snick where never a man is seen.''

Read the whole thing here, if you like.

It ends like this:

Oh, East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,

Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgement Seat;

But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,

When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!

Chesterton hated Kipling and I like Chesterton lot. I also like Kipling.

Rumours that I charge about on a horse around the Compound with a saber may or may not be true.

LSP