Tuesday 26 February 2013

Lucknow (2), La Martinière College and the Indian 'Mutiny' 1857: Uttar Pradesh Part 6

A Posh Indian School, the End of the East India Company and a Train Journey to Agra


India
Uttar Pradesh
I heard the unmistakable sound of a mosquito during the night. It was zizzing right beside my ear, as they always do, and I made a grab for it, as I always do. I have yet to catch one.

In the morning I was smearing anti-histamine cream on a couple of bites when Lynne drew the curtains. Monkeys were swinging in the tree outside and chasing each other over the building opposite; it is worth the odd itch to start a morning like that.

When Sanjay arrived we headed south to Constantia, once the country pile of Claude Martin and now the home of La Martinière College.

La Martinière College
Born in Lyons in 1725, Martin first joined the army of the Compagnie des Indes as a common soldier but later accepted service in the army of the British East India Company, rising to the rank of Major-General. His organisational abilities led him to be recruited by the Nawab of Awadh and he arrived at the time Asaf-ud-Daula was moving the capital to Lucknow. He became a confidant of Asaf-ud-Daula, using his architectural skills to build much of the new capital and his business skills to amass a huge fortune.

Martin was a complex man. He never returned to France, though he kept his French citizenship all his life, and he never married though he had long term relationships with several mistresses. His only child, a daughter, died in infancy and is buried in an ornate tomb inside the entrance to La Martinière College. Wikipedia claims the tomb is of his favourite mistress, Boulone, a woman thirty years his junior whom he allegedly bought when she was nine years old. Boulone died forty years after Martin, so it is unlikely the tomb was built for her, but maybe she lies there with her daughter.

The tomb of Claude Martin's daughter, La Martinière College, Lucknow

Martin was a soldier, administrator, art collector and philanthropist. In his will, he divided his fortune between the poor and the foundation of schools in Lucknow, Calcutta and his home town of Lyons. Legal wrangling meant La Martinière Boys’ School in Lucknow did not open until 1845, 45 years after Martin’s death, and the girls’ school 24 years later. He made no stipulation concerning the race of the students, but in the 1850s the 150 boys were all European or Eurasian. Today there are over 4000 students, including some boarders, overwhelmingly the sons of the wealthier citizens of the Lucknow area.  The school has carefully maintained the ethos of an English public school and boasts many illustrious old boys including politicians, Bollywood stars and industrialists.

Constantia, La Martinière College, Lucknow

We arrived just before break and from the reaction of the pupils – or lack of it - they are used to strange foreigners wandering round their school. All smartly dressed in blazers, white shirts and ties they largely ignored us, though one boy approached carrying a large bag of sweets, said it was his birthday and offered us a chocolate éclair – the school is obviously doing something right.

La Martinière College is expensive by Indian standards but the single classroom we looked  into - which may not be typical - was basic; bench seats, old wooden desks, no air-conditioning and chalk and blackboard the only equipment on view.

The library, too looked small for a school of its size and standing. We met the librarian who was keen to raise money for improvements and we bought two coffee mugs bearing the school crest.

The Chapel, La Martinière College, Lucknow
Many schools, including the one I attended, have memorials to old boys who died in two world wars, but La Martinière may be unique in having a memorial to students who participated in a military engagement while still being at school. I will come to the events of 1857 shortly, but the boys (and staff) of the college played their part in the defence of the British Residency.

Roll of Honour of the staff and students at La Martinière College
who defended the British Residency, Lucknow 1857

And if that does not make the school unique, having their founder's grave in the crypt below the chapel, surely does. Claude Martin shares this quiet spot with a small flock of bats.

The tomb of Claude Martin
La Martinière College, Lucknow
Constantia is now within the city boundary but was built as a country house and a landmark was constructed to help visitors find it. We have become so used to the metaphorical use of ‘landmark’ that we (by which I mean I) have almost forgotten that it has a literal meaning.

Landmark, La Martinière College, Lucknow

Dilkusha Gardens are two hundred metres from the school and it was here that the Wajid Ali Shah, the last Nawab of Awadh wound up the British by exercising his troops. In 1847 he had ascended the throne of a very different Awadh from the one Claude Martin had known. A treaty of 1801 had given the British East India Company half the kingdom in return for military assistance. As part of the treaty the Nawab had accepted that his government must be reformed for the benefit of the people. Wajid Ali Shah assumed power with an ultimatum on this issue already hanging over his head.


The remains of Wajid Ali Shah's military buildings, Dilkusha, Lucknow

The new Nawab liked to rattle his sabre but was more interested in dance, music and courtesans than in politics. The British lost patience with Wajid Ali Khan in 1856 and assumed direct rule of Awadh. The ex-Nawab spent the rest of his life in exile devoting himself to the arts.

His parade ground is now a garden dotted with the remains of his military buildings. The largest ruin, though, is of the Dilkusha Kothi. Built in 1800, it is a country house designed by the British Resident, Major Gore Ouseley, in the English baroque style and intended as a hunting lodge and summer residence for the Nawabs. Like nearby Constantia, it was shelled in the rebellion of 1857, but unlike Constantia, it was never restored and for many years was left to rot.

Dilkisha Kothi, Lucknow
The design is reputedly based on Seaton Delavel Hall, Northumberland
Back in town we visited the British Residency, the focal point of the events of 1857 – known, in my schooldays, as the 'Indian Mutiny'. This term is rarely used today, partly because of its colonialist overtones and partly because it was much more than a mutiny. The Indian government prefers 'First Indian War of Independence' but the ‘first’ upsets many in Kerala and Punjab who would make that claim for earlier risings in their states. Sanjay further pointed out that the events were confined to the Gangetic plain of northern India, that there was as yet no all-India consciousness and the word 'independence' had little meaning to the common people. I will use 'Indian Rebellion' which is, I hope, politically neutral.

The Gates to the former British Residency, Lucknow

The rebellion did, however, start with a mutiny among Indian soldiers in the army of the East India Company. When I was twelve we were told the cause was the introduction of new greased cartridges that needed to have the top bitten off before insertion into a musket. The truth is, as always, more complex; the rebellion resulted from a build-up of resentment over time not a single issue. The cartridges, though, provided the spark, and it is a measure of how bad things were that Hindu soldiers believed the cartridges were greased with beef fat, and Muslim soldiers believed it was pork fat.

After the initial mutiny, there were risings all along the Ganges from Calcutta to Delhi, including in Awadh, which was fertile ground after the recent removal of the Nawab.

The first British Commissioner in Awadh – as opposed to ‘Resident’ – was the tactless and inept Coverley Jackson. Six weeks before the rebellion broke out he was replaced by Sir Henry Lawrence who attempted to calm the situation while preparing the British Residency for the possibility of a siege.

That possibility became reality on the 30th of June 1857. The Residency building was the centre of a complex covering some 13ha, but at the start they also tried to defend some detached outbuildings amounting in total to some 24ha. Inside were 855 British officers and men, 712 Indian soldiers who had remained loyal to the company, 153 civilian volunteers and 1280 non-combatants, mainly women and children. Outside were 8000 Indian soldiers and the retainers of several local landowners.

The Residency Annex looks relatively unscathed and now houses the 1857 Memorial Museum which among other exhibits has a model of the complex as it was at the time and a diorama of the siege.

The Residency Annex, Lucknow
The Residency itself, once three storeys high and with two turrets, is a ruin after being heavily shelled. Women and children were sheltered in the relative safety of the basement but Sir Henry Lawrence was fatally injured while sitting in the library on the 2nd of July, the third day of the siege.

The former British Residency, Lucknow

He was taken to the house of Dr Fayrer, the residency surgeon and died two days later. He appointed Major Banks as the Civil Commissioner but he was killed within a week by a sniper and Colonel John Inglis, the military commander, took overall control.

The remains of Dr Fayrer's house, Lucknow

The attackers attempted to storm the residency and to gain entry by mining but the defenders held out. Surrender was unthinkable; a similar but much briefer siege in Cawnpore in June ended in surrender and a promise of safe passage. The promise was not kept and women and children were massacred along with the defenders.

By late September only 300 British soldiers, 300 Indian soldiers and 550 non-combatants remained. The 25th of September saw the arrival of a relieving force led by Sir Henry Havelock. Unfortunately he lost a significant number of men fighting his way in and they were not strong enough to get everybody out. The siege continued.

The treasury building, which had only been completed in 1851 became an ordnance factory; predictably, little remains.

The Treasury, former British Residency, Lucknow
The loyal Indian soldiers held the Baillie Guard Post where there is now a memorial to them.
 
Memorial to the Indian soldiers who remained loyal to the British
former British Residency, Lucknow


St Mary’s church was razed,.....
The remains of St Mary's Church
former British Residency, Lucknow
....but many of the defenders were buried in the churchyard,.....
St Mary's churchyard and memorial
former British Residency, Lucknow
 ...including Sir Henry Lawrence with his rather double edged epitaph.

The grave of Sir Henry Lawrence who 'tried to do his duty',
former British Residency, Lucknow
With the rebellion beginning to falter, the siege was eventually lifted on the 18th of November and the Residency was abandoned.

The aftermath of the rebellion was brutal. The British ‘army of retribution’ stamped out the insurrection, but it did nothing to address the original causes. The Rebellion brought about the end of the Mughal Empire, but it also finished off the East India Company, which was dissolved in 1858 transferring its ruling powers to the crown. Queen Victoria became Empress of India and so began the British Raj.

These events are important to Indians because although they started the Raj, they also contained the seeds of its destruction. My précis of the events has been entirely from the British point of view because, ironically, that is the only information that is available – even in Lucknow today.

We returned to our hotel via a long detour to see the 43ha Ambedkar Memorial Park. Largely constructed of red Rajasthan sandstone, the park is dedicated to the memory of Dr B R Ambedkar, the father of the Indian constitution, though it is actually a vanity project of Mayawati Kumari, chief minister of Uttar Pradesh, on and off, between 1995 and 2012. She spent 7 billion rupees on a project that has been described as ‘world class’ by some and ‘politicised stone work’ by others. Sanjay was ambivalent and we could not judge if it works as a park as it was not open at the time – but it certainly looked odd.


Dr B R Ambedkar Memorial Park, Lucknow

After showing us the dubious wonders of the park Sanjay had finished for the day.

We lunched, again at Coffee Day, and spent the afternoon shopping; the RE department at our former place of employment had requested a Hindu god or two - there are several thousand to choose from - and we are always on the lookout for spices which are a touch fresher than at home, and a touch cheaper, too.

Much of the next morning passed in similar style though many shops were closed - everybody we spoke to denied it was a holiday. We found a Sikh-run bakery that was open and bought supplies for our train trip and then tried to photograph a cow walking the wrong way up the outside lane of a city centre street, but with limited success. The picture below, in which the cow is (just) visible among the traffic, is a reminder that nine of the world’s ten most polluted cities* are not in China as I would have expected but on the Indian subcontinent. Delhi has the world’s worst air quality, while Lucknow ranks tenth. It was time to cough and move on.


Cow and traffic, Lucknow

We reached the station in plenty of time for our train and found our way to the appropriate coach which was classified as 'second class air conditioned' though it only had ceiling fans. It looked tatty but the seats were comfortable enough and we left on time for our scheduled seven hour journey to Agra.

Lucknow North East Railway Station

We pottered along pleasantly and after four hours we were only twenty minutes behind schedule. Then we had a long stop at a red signal.

We fell into conversation with Sashi, the guide of a small Turkish group in the same carriage. 'Maybe we have spoken before,’ he said, telling us that he used to work for Barclays call centre. He had given it up to be a tour guide which was, he said, better paid though the hours were irregular. It was his wedding anniversary and he would rather have been at home than accompanying tourists to Agra. When he eventually arrived back in Delhi, he was going straight out again with a party of 32 British tourists.

As the sun set, our progress involved stopping, re-starting, crawling through the gloom and stopping again in an irregular cycle. IST officially stands for Indian Standard Time, Sashi informed us, but on the railways it is Indian Stretchable Time, and our only option was to be patient.

We sat for an hour at a dark and deserted station. On the side of the embankment someone had painted in English in large red letters the word 'ABANDONED'.  I understood how the station felt.

Eventually we moved on, finishing the journey with an hour at barely more than walking pace. Sashi offered his assistance if there was no one at the station to meet us, but we had every faith in whoever had been deputed to be there.

We arrived not at 8.30 as scheduled but at 11.30, but Solanky was there with a driver waiting to transfer us to our hotel. Well done them.

* Pollution measured in terms of particulates in the atmosphere

Sunday 24 February 2013

Lucknow (1), City of Nawabs: Uttar Pradesh Part 5

Imambaras, Gully Cricket and the Food of Nawabs

Morning in Lucknow


India
Uttar Pradesh
The evening's biryani and vegetable jalfrezi weighed heavily on Lynne's already delicate stomach so she heard the thunderstorm in the night and the dawn call to prayer from the mosque. I slept through both.

In the morning the air was fresh and clean, the sky clear and Lucknow was looking a far pleasanter prospect.

Lucknow, with 7 million inhabitants is the capital of the large and densely populated state of Uttar Pradesh

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast before Sanjay arrived to show us the city.

The Bara Imambara

A short drive brought us to the outer gate of the Bara Imambara. An imambara is a hall used by Shia Muslims for the annual commemoration of the martyrdom of Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet; ‘bara’ just means ‘big’.

Outer gate, Bara Imambara, Lucknow

The Bara Imambara was built by Asaf-ud-Daula, Nawab of Awadh in 1784. As the Moghul Empire weakened, Awadh, in central Uttar Pradesh, was one of several statelets that achieved de facto independence. Sa'adat Khan set himself up as the first Nawab in 1722 and Asaf-ud-Daula, the fourth of the dynasty, moved the capital from Faizabad to Lucknow in 1775.

Inner gate, Bara Imambara, Lucknow

Awadh is noted for its fertility but drought in the early 1780s brought the danger of famine and the building of the Bara Imambara was a ‘workfare’ project for otherwise unemployed farmers and labourers. There is a story that the peasants were paid for building during the day while the nobles spent their nights dismantling their work to make the job last longer. There are many reasons for doubting this story, not least the feeling that even if Asaf-ud-Daula’s generosity was legendary, the same was not necessarily true of the rest of Awadh’s aristocracy.

The Bara Imambara, Lucknow

The Asafi Mosque

The outer and inner gates and the imambara are magnificent, between then the Asafi mosque may be even better.

The Asafi Mosque, Bara Imambara, Lucknow

The Tomb of Asaf-ud-Daula and the Labyrinth

The tomb of Asaf-ud-Daula is inside the imambara hall, allegedly the world’s largest unsupported brick roof.

Imambara hall and tomb of Asaf-ud-Daula, Bara Imambara, Lucknow

On that roof, which is easily reached by a set of stone stairs, is a labyrinth.

Rooftop labyrinth, Bara Imambara, Lucknow

Navigating with assurance, Sanjay led us through the twists and turns to emerge on the balcony of the hall where we amused ourselves with the acoustics which, like the Whispering Gallery at St Paul's, allow conversations over large distances in quiet voices.

On the balcony of the Imambara hall, Lucknow

Diving back into the labyrinth we re-emerged for the best views over the imambara complex and the city of Lucknow.

Looking over the Imambara complex and the city beyond

The Rumi Darwaza

Imambaras are an extreme example of the Number 9 Bus Phenomenon. I waited sixty-two years for the first to turn up and the second came along twenty minutes later. But first we had to pass under the Rumi Darwaza, one of the city gates. Also built in 1784 by Asaf-ud-Daula it is (very loosely) modelled on the 'Sublime Porte' in Istanbul and is regarded as one of the finest examples of Awadhi - as opposed to Moghul - architecture. The word 'Rumi' means 'Roman'. The Sublime Porte is actually Ottoman, but a thousand years earlier Istanbul had been the capital of the eastern Roman Empire, so anything from Istanbul must be Roman – obviously, duh.

The Rumi Darwaza, Lucknow

The Chhota Imambara

The second imambara, the Chhota Imambara (sometimes called the Husseinabad Imambara) is a little way down the road. It was built in 1838 by the ninth Nawab of Awadh, Muhammad Ali Shah as a tomb for himself and his mother.

The Chhota Imambara, Lucknow

It is a beautiful building, light and almost lacy, standing at the end of a long narrow pool. Supposed replicas of the Taj Mahal stand to right and left of the pool, housing the tombs of other family members, but they are not good replicas and the ensemble looks ill-matched.

The Chhota Imambara and its mosque

As we walked towards the imambara a mongoose ran across our path, swiftly followed by a second one. Photographs? No chance, they are far too quick for me.

Besides the Nawab's tomb….

The tomb of Muhammad Ali Shah, Chhota Imambara, Lucknow

… the imambara contains his crown, his throne….

The throne of Muhammad Ali Shah, Chhota Imambara, Lucknow

…and any number of chandeliers - he was quite taken by them and built up a fine collection, mostly imported from Belgium. There is also a painted European style portrait. On it, he is labelled ‘King of Oudh’, the title by which the British, with the Anglophone's usual assured handling of foreign languages, knew the Nawabs of Awadh.

Several chandeliers, Chhota Imambara, Lucknow

The River Gomti and the Laundry

A Nawab must have clean clothes, so we drove to the banks of the River Gomti to inspect the city's laundries. Dirty clothes lie in piles….

Piles of dirty clothes by the River Gomti, Lucknow

…. while the dhobi wallahs stand up to their thighs in the river slapping clothing against stones.

Dhobi Wallahs in the River Gomti, Lucknow

Further over some of the clean washing had been hung up to dry while the rest was laid out on the litter-strewn grass. We never cease to wonder how it is that clothes washed in dirty water and dried on dusty ground can be clean, yet somehow the whites gleam and coloureds glow.

Washing drying on the dusty, litter-strewn ground, River Gomti, Lucknow

Gully Circket by the Laundry

There is open ground around the dhobi area and this being India every space was filled with lads playing 'gully’ cricket. Half a dozen games seemed to be going on, their outfields overlapping in a cheerful confusion of fielders.

Gully cricket by the River Gomti, Lucknow

Lucknow Market

Satisfied with our inspection we next went to the market.

Nimish

At the entrance a man with a barrow was selling what looked like cream sprinkled with pistachios and coated with silver leaf. Sanjay called it ‘butter cream’ and suggested we should try it. Very soon we had a disposable bowl of pressed leaves, a wooden spoon and a dollop of butter cream. With an already upset stomach Lynne approached it warily, but it was sweet and lovely and slipped down so easily that we had no problem finishing the bowl.

Selling nimish, Lucknow market

[In Rick Stein's India, shown on television a few months later, he called it nimish and bought his from the same vendor - or at least one on the same spot. I am indebted to his website for the ingredients which, beneath the pistachios and silver leaf, are double cream, icing sugar, rose water and saffron. The silver has no culinary purpose, but the food of Lucknow is the food of Nawabs so it must look opulent.],

Eating nimish, Lucknow market

The Many and Various Market Stalls

We walked on through the narrow streets of the market....

Lucknow market

...passing shops selling wool, perfume,...

Perfume shop, Lucknow market

...kites...

Kite shop, Lucknow market

..and dozens of other things banal and exotic.

Selling water pipes, Lucknow market

We watched a man printing a border pattern on a piece of cloth, hand stamping it with a wooden block. With apparent ease he was, time after time, banging the block down in precisely the right spot to make the pattern smooth and continuous.

Hand stamping a pattern, Lucknow market

We marvelled at his skill and also, though for different reasons, at the electrics. Fires in Indian markets are regularly reported in the press - and looking at the wiring no one should be surprised.

A tangle of wires, Lucknow market

Shami Kebabs

Eventually we reached the shami kebab stall in the centre of the market. We think of kebabs, and skewers come immediately to mind, but no skewers are involved with these patties of minced lamb.

I had been unimpressed so far with the food on this trip. All Indian cooking uses spices in great quantity and variety, but with less skilful chefs everything blurs together to produce a monotonous bludgeon of flavour. When spicing is skilfully done the spices trip tidily across the palate and introduce themselves one by one. So it was with the shami kebabs. They would have been perfect if only the meat had any texture, but it was so soft you could almost suck it through a straw. [The stall is a Lucknow institution and Rick Stein ate here too. He filmed the preparation of the kebabs and has a recipe on his website. He also tells how shami kebabs were, allegedly, invented for a toothless Nawab, hence the texture.]

Shami kebabs, Lucknow market

The Qaiser Bagh, Nawabs Tombs and Impromptu Cricket

After our break in the laundry and the market it was time to return to the Nawabs.

Asaf-ud-Daula's father had made the fateful decision to accept a 'British Resident' in Awadh. The East India Company's resident first offered protection, then advice and then more advice until gradually, after many years, he became the true ruler - while always deferring to the Nawab in public. The frustration this caused came to boiling point in 1857, a date which will feature in the next post.

Asaf-ud-Daula, died in 1797, and was succeeded by his son Wazir Ali Khan. Wazir Ali Khan proved to be too independently minded for British tastes and was removed from power in 1798, the pretext being that he was not actually the son of Asaf-ud-Daula. The pretext may actually have been true, Asaf-ud-Daula preferred the company of young men and there are doubts that his marriage was ever consummated.

Asaf-ud-Daula's brother was crowned Sa'adat Ali Khan II by Sir Peter Shore, the East India Company's Governor General of India, and became the Wazir Nawab of Awadh, or King of Oudh, if you prefer.

Tomb of Sa'adat Ali Khan II, Lucknow

Although compliant to British desires, he was regarded as a good ruler and an indefatigable builder, being responsible for most of the buildings between the Qaiser Bagh and Dilkusha (see next post). He and his queen are buried in twin tombs in the Qaiser Bagh built by their son, Ghazi-ud-din.

Disinterested guardian, tomb of Sa'adat Ali Khan II, Lucknow

The Qaiser Bagh is a pleasant garden, but the tombs have a sad and neglected air, their guardians showing no inclination to open them up for visitors. Like any green space in an Indian city the Qaiser Bagh was hosting any number of impromptu games of cricket. Centre picture, in front of the tomb of the queen, players cluster round after a batsman has been out, while on the right the fielder in another game is about to throw the ball in and on the left two fielders in yet another game move in as the ball is bowled.

Three games of cricket outside the tomb of Sa'adat Ali Khan's queen

Sa'adat Ali Khan died at the age of 48 and was succeeded by his son Ghazi-ud-din who ruled for thirteen years before being succeeded by his son, Nasir-ud-din. The new monarch was more interested in wine, women and astrology than government and was murdered in 1827. The widow of Ghazi-ud-din tried to put a man called Muna Jan on the throne, but was opposed by the rest of the Awadh royal family and, perhaps more importantly, the British.

A palace used to sit just over the road from the tomb of Sa'adat Ali Khan. Only a library and wedding hall remain, and it was in this hall that the British kidnapped the widow and Muna Jan.

Wedding hall, scene of the 1827 kidnapping

Instead, Muhammad Ali Shah, a brother of Ghazi-ud-din, was put on the throne. He was an able ruler though he died only five years later. He did, though, have time to build himself a fine tomb, the Chhota Imambara, which we had seen earlier in the morning.

Lunch in Coffee Day and an Afternoon Walk

It had been a long morning by the time Sanjay dropped us back at the hotel, his day's work over. We did not linger in the hotel but walked up to the Coffee Day café at the end of the street. Offering air-conditioning, comfortable chairs and reasonable coffee, it was a good place for a lunchtime snack. It was also, we discovered the place to see and by seen for a predominantly well-off youthful clientele.

Lynne's chocolate brownie was probably better than my chicken sandwich which was under spiced (and this in India!), but the young staff were helpful and friendly and it proved a pleasant place to sit and wile away an hour.

We took a walk in the afternoon, starting with St Joseph's Catholic cathedral. It is certainly a striking building but after giving it due and careful consideration I came to the conclusion it is dire.

St Joseph, Cathedral, Lucknow

There is always plenty to see walking about any Indian city. At one point we found ourselves engulfed by a horde of children leaving a posh school. All with immaculate uniforms they set off home on foot or bicycle, in parental cars or crammed into crowded tuk-tuks. And wherever we went there were always dozens of bicycle rickshaw drivers keen to offer us a lift.

An Excellant Gosht Mughlai at the Royal Café

In the evening we went to the Royal Café, a restaurant not far away in Hazratganj that had been recommended by Sanjay. It was a good choice. Lynne was not up to eating but watched as I ordered Gosht Mughlai (Mughal style mutton - ie goat). Apart from the shami kebab (which was only a snack) I had not eaten a really good meal since the garlic chicken in Delhi over a week before, nor had I eaten any meat; these facts may or may not be connected. As with the shami kebabs the spicing was expertly done but the big chunks of tender, flavoursome meat meant this also had texture. It was as good as the garlic chicken, which made it the joint best meal of the trip so far.

Having done so well with the main course, I ventured a dessert. Lynne described it as an upside down trifle. I would describe as a delight, and anyway I am not sure whether a trifle actually has an upside.

Upside down trifle? Royal Café, Lucknow
I have no excuse for the demonic grin.

And Finally...

Lucknow has its share of persistent beggars, but on the way back Lynne dropped a 2 rupee coin into the cup of an old man who was sitting quietly and patiently in hope rather than expectation. He looked up, smiled and said, 'Thank you, very kind.'

We passed a toy shop selling games, action figures and model vehicles. What drew out eye was not the stock but the soldier making a purchase, a sub-machine gun slung over his shoulder.