Margaret’s Birthday
ByMargaret loves trains. So rather than fly to Bombay, now called Mumbai, we took the Rajdhani Express. Her first birthday present was from the delightful ticket clerk at Delhi station who looked quizzically at her age on our ticket forms, 59 on the way out and 60 on the return train. Then the penny dropped, “Ah birthday on our train,” he beamed. “I’ll give her a present from Indian Railways – 30% concession.”
This was not a jaunt for pleasure but a working trip to see rural projects and deliver a workshop. But travelling on Indian Railways is always fun. Afternoon tea, complete with hot samosas, cashew nuts, lovely sandwiches and chocolate bars was served by the smiling staff as soon as we jerked out of Delhi station, right on time. Our bedding was delivered to the compartment as the long shadows of the setting sun spilled over the green fields and agricultural workers led bullocks back to their villages. Set up on little tables with table cloths an evening meal of soup, chicken curry and ice cream arrived about nine.
Gently woken by the steward bringing early morning chai we pulled into teaming Mumbai. Our friend Dillip met us at the door of the carriage and we headed off through the bustling morning rush hour.
Laughter therapy was in full swing when we arrived at the rural charity. To our amazement, there in the circle of laughing children was Nina. She waved delightedly for us to join the group. We had met her in an ashram near Bhopal about a year ago and here she was the director of this charity. Margaret was soon laughing and dancing with the children in the warm sunshine. It was wonderful to see these poor and destitute children, who were also disabled, being so well educated and cared for and obviously enjoying themselves so much.
Back in Bombay news soon filtered out to the fifty odd delegates at our management workshop that Margaret’s birthday was imminent. Conspiratorial whispers wafted softly along the corridors and Margaret’s addiction to chocolate was discovered. On the last day a procession led by Mrs Tehmi Shroff, the indomitable 80 year old Director, brought in a huge chocolate birthday cake. There was enough for all the delegates, the staff and the people cared for by the institute.
Tehmi suggested that we might just catch the last few races at the Royal West India Turf Club. Her son was a trainer and a couple of his horses were running. Watching the horses thundering past the finish line was a treat for Margaret who loves horse racing. In the fragrant Bombay evening Tehmi invited us for a light supper at the Willingdon Club, something of a colonial institution.
Grand Victorian architecture dominates central Mumbai. Bristling with ornate gothic spires the massive main railway station, once called the Victoria Terminus, pulsates with millions of travelling people. Around the old city modern gleaming office blocks reach for the skies. The impressive new Sea Link bridge connects the outer suburbs with downtown Bombay cutting out the gridlocked streets. Further out, New Bombay, is urgently growing to accommodate the thirty million inhabitants who commute in on overcrowded trains. We spent the whole day marvelling at the city and enjoying the spectacle. That evening, the day before Margaret’s birthday we dined at the Taj Palace Hotel with glorious views of the floodlit Gateway to India.
On her birthday Margaret opened the family presents secretly brought from Delhi. Birthday greetings flooded in from family, friends in the UK and Indian friends and colleagues to make this a very happy day. A visit to the house where Ghandi conducted meetings and fasted to stop riots made us ponder the state of modern India with its industrial and economic progress and the still huge divide between rich and poor.
The birthday week almost over she enjoyed a birthday meal of Indian Railways Chicken curry on the overnight express back to Delhi.
More surprises were in store. Next day at a major National Trust conference the Chairperson, sitting next to Margaret on the platform, presented her with a card and a traditional Phad, an Indian narrative textile painting.
Sharing her birthday with so many wonderful friends and well wishers made the occasion one to remember.
