Musical Island of leisure...

Just for the Love of it
(Popular Music in Penang 1930-1960s)
by: Paul Augustin and James Lochhead

The picturesque outlay of the book, resembling a coffee table

book with plenty of pictures and trivia information. 

From top: Penang Road, Jimmy Boyle and Runnymede

Swingtette, Ruby Rozells (aka Catherine Tejummal), Bashir Ahmad

and Syed Agil. 

When you are at the lowest rung of the social ladder and have the burning desire to unshackle the chains of poverty, the arts and leisure industry is last on your priority list. All you are interested in is the particular time tested fast-track way to wealth, hoping that that would be the panacea of all of their problems. 

Furthermore, with an ancestor who singlehandedly squandered his family wealth in a single generation by over-indulging in partying, fun, leisure and merrymaking, going anywhere near this industry was a no-no when we were growing up. In not so many words, the words of Animals' 'House of the Rising Sun' pretty much sums up our situation - "♫..it had been a ruin of many a poor boy and Lord I know I am one! ♫🎶".
As you grow older, you realise that the arts and music are equally important in making a complete person.

I can go on and on saying nice things about this book, but I do not know where to start.
In a nutshell, the authors talk about three pillars of the leisure industry in Penang - radio wave transmission, the cinemas and the entertainment parks, the various musicians and bands that had their genesis in this tropical colonial meeting point and a melting pot of many cultures.

I have to confess that despite professing to be a true blue Penangite, I am still ignorant of the many names dropped in this book. From the look of it, it appears like Penang seem to have churned many musicians and artists. In that aspect, St Xavier's Institution can be proud of the many students who led this path.

Penang, developed as a port town, attracted many cultures and soon became a melting pot for amalgamating all these cultures, East and West. Everyone brought in their own brand of music, which fascinated the local populace who tried to integrate these 'new' influences into theirs. These new sounds became music to everyone's ears. An exciting example is boria. It is said to have been brought in by Shia traders from Persia. It was initially performed as a religious presentation on Awal Muharram. Over time, it fascinated local people. It evolved into a social production involving social themes to be performed all year round. Pretty soon, clubs were organising their own shows for competitions!

It is difficult to fathom a conservative society like ours had many public dances, ronggeng being one. Many versions of ronggeng were there. Some were flirtatious, like the Thai style where the dancers imitate pinching their partners. There was a time when you could pay a small token for a short dance. Some ladies actually earned money or a living by dancing.
Before the silver screen hits the theatres, bangsawan was the primary source of acted storytelling. The Chinese and the Peranakan also held similar performances. With the introduction of movies and cinemas, their popularity waned. Their actors, too, were soon absorbed into the local movie industry.
In the 30s, all through the 60s, amusement parks played an essential role in providing temporary relief to the mind of the natives. Besides being a meeting place for the like-minded, it also provided wholesome family entertainment for connoisseurs of ethnic music, dancing, wrestling, boxing, gambling, fashion shows and even striptease.

The darling of Penang, P Ramlee, born
4A Caunter Hall, schooled at PFS

The British had their own watering holes on the island - E&O Hotel, Runnymede, Springtide, Green Parrot, Chusan, etcetera. They try to relive their home country atmosphere by having the local boys play tunes of hits of the times. This became an avenue for many young musically inclined Penang boys to dive head down into a music career.

Access to musical instruments and material were limited those days. Many aspiring musicians built their own guitars to play and self-taught themselves! Talk about talent. The Penang musicians of yesteryear were part-timers and all held day jobs as civil servants, teachers, etcetera. There was an incident when Jimmy Boyle (whose daytime job is teaching) performed as a guest musician in Bangkok. The musicians there were impressed. And somebody said, "and this guy is just a teacher is Penang!"

Amusement parks were a great attraction in Penang from the 30s all through the 60s. It encouraged the mixing of Penangites and helped promote various cultural arts, encouraged new artistic talents, and provided wholesome family entertainment. There were avenues for ethnic performances, bangsawan theatres (Chinese, Malay and Peranakan), gambling, boxing, wrestling and striptease shows.
My close friend lived in Thorpe Road, and an old theatre featuring Hong Kong movies stood in Khoo Sian Wee Road. I used to wonder who these people were. In fact, these two people were instrumental in introducing wireless service in Penang through the Penang Wireless Society. Their popularity skyrocketed the sales of wireless devices. They were transmitted from a single storey house in Perak Road. Despite their rudimentary set-up by today's standards, they even managed live performances! The premises were left unharmed during WW2, so the Japanese used it for their propaganda needs. Western songs were banned, but the intelligent locals composed local lyrics to the western tunes, which they listened illegally. Illegally because all radio devices were mandated to be 'programmed' by appointed dealers to prevent them from receiving foreign transmissions.

When the British returned to postWW2 Malaya, they found natives with a new mindset. Slowly economic situation improves.

A different era, different attire, different outlook, different social mores! 

Most of the posh watering joints were exclusively reserved for the colonial masters. However, in 1951, ownership of E&O changed hands to the Choong family. Admittance was open to all.
The 1950s and 1960s can be said to be the golden era of music and musicians of Penang. The prestigious Municipal Band was a nidus for many aspiring musicians. Movie cinemas also held musical performances and singing competitions to promote their shows, e.g. Elvis Presley, Cliff Richards, etcetera. Rediffusion waves filled the air with live music. Open live performances in parks, school halls and community halls were the order of the day. Everybody wanted to hold a guitar and be a Beatle or a Shadow!

Even though the British were known to be open to freedom of expression, it was only for their own kind. In the early years of introducing movies in Malaya, the colonial masters were sceptical of letting the natives view them. They were worried that the admiration that they garnered from their subjects would be tarnished by the depiction of white men as drunkards, skirt-chasers, fornicators, robbers and liars! It was viewed as bad for the business of colonialism.

Boria performances had their own drama. They sometimes become the tool of different minded politicians and their gangs.

Radio Malaya Penang branch takes the credit for introducing many radio personalities to the forefront. Malaya was introduced to Ahmad Merican, Zainal Alam, Jimmy Boyle, Ahmad Daud, etc. Radio RAAF Butterworth also play a pivotal role in satisfying the musical needs of many hip Penangites.
The book further introduces readers to many long-forgotten stars of the bygone era - Joe Rozells (made his own Hawaiian guitar), David Ng (piano prodigy,) Albert Yeoh, Larry Rodrigues, Peter Pregas (a true blue Sabahan later), Ahmad Nawab, Ooi Eow Jin, The talented Rajamoneys and many more. There is a salutation to the many bands who used Penang as their playground. The irony of it all is that, all in not, most of the musicians were part-timers and had their day jobs. They played music just for the fun of it (the title of the book!). The book, I loved it.

As if putting the cherry on the icing, the book comes with a complimentary CD with 24 locally composed pieces. What more can you ask for... A dreamy, nostalgic trip down memory lane!

Did you know that David Arumugam started off as David Thiagarajan? The change was that he was becoming famous, and Thiagarajan was difficult to pronounce. Furthermore, there was another famous Arumugam then -R.Arumugam, the Spiderman!

Lost in thin air?

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)

Many Australian movies which dealt with mysteries of the nature have been hits at the box office. And this 1975 flick is one of them. We are advised to be outdoors but these unanswered questions tells us that there are many mysteries of Mother Nature lurk among us. The aboriginal cultures had a mutual respectful relationship with nature which unfortunately, modern thinking man tend to take for granted. The appreciation of the splendour and greatness of things on Earth is slowly on the decline evidenced by the resurfacing of many of its age old landscapes and pillage of its resources.

This Ozzie flick generated many interests over the years. It story was based on a 1967 book. Even though it is supposed to a fiction, it has become a source of many discussions and arguments on the possible explanation of the reported mysterious loss of the teenage school girls at a park on Valentines' Day of 1900.

The film starts with in a all girls boarding school. The shots in soft lens to the sounds of melodious soft flute music and giggly school girls caressing each others' hair reciting silly lovey-dovey poems may just be an opening scene of a B-grade soft porn but it is not but it just add on to the mystery of the unexplained disappearance of three school girls later in the story.

Somebody even researched and found that 14th February in 1900 was not Saturday as described but instead a Wednesday.

19 girls with 2 teachers went on a picnic to The Hanging Rock. Cooped in a regimental environment, the girls find liberation as they are transported in a carriage receiving catcalls and admirers. At he picnic site, 4 girls, with the permission of the teachers, went out to venture up the rocks. They never returned. Two boys who happened to be camping there are also somehow also get embroiled in their disappearance.

Extensive investigations and search parties never found them but one of the girls was later found alive but had absolutely no recollection of the turn of events.

In midst of all these, the headmistress also has her own issues with finances. One of the students who is an orphan has problems keeping up with the fees and in suspended.

This film, when shown in an international arena, had one director throw water over the screen to express his disappointment with the inconclusive and unconventional ending. Many questions are left unanswered which precisely got the people talking. Some even toyed the idea of alien abduction!

Over at our local level in the twenty first century, we are angered by desecration of our mountains by certain mischevious youthful acts of visitors. Even though, direct correlation between dastardly acts and natural catastrophe are laughable if one tries to, nevertheless, respect for the unknown is of paramount importance as Mother Nature has the bad habit of giving a smack on your head when you are cocky! Respect begets respect!

Entertaining experimental comedy

The Party 1968
Director: Blake Edwards

Can you imagine, 99% of percent of the show was shot in a party? Hence, the title. Maybe, in 1968, it would have been quite alright to feature an Indian as a bumbling misfit with an exotic aura behind him but still somewhat a sub-human to showbiz but it would not politically correct in this early 21st century. Globalisation had spread Indian diaspora the world over that Indian delicacies have became national cuisines of some Western countries!

This film is bring together, yet again, the genius pair of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards after their many successes after the 1963 Pink Panther blockbuster comedy. Here, a brown faced Peter Sellers acts as Hrundi V. Bakshi, a bumbling minor side actor, who is a walking disaster in the set. He earns the ire of the director who curses him and told him point blank that he would not get any acting part in Hollywood and he would make sure of that! He contacts his contemporary of this Bakshi character but his name get included in a big shot producer's party list!

Hrundi V. Bakshi

Bakshi is actually a tame guy who gets into trouble because of his failing vision (he refuses to wear glasses!) and get too hard to be chummy with the showbiz, unsuccessfully.

A good proportion of the movie is without speech as Bakshi struggles through the maze and latest gizmos of a modern penthouse at a party and tries to fit into high society. At the end of the day, the whole venue becomes one big circus with a baby elephant and suds of detergent filling the whole flat, creating absolute pandemonium.

Maybe at a philosophical level, the film is trying to portray the hypocritical nature of the people in showbiz look who do not say what they mean and do things with with ulterior motives. As any good Hollywood worth its salt, the loser gets the pretty French actress who equally feels out of place like him. An entertaining experimental movie to watch.

As if too much time to pass..

Kingsman: The Secret Service (2014)

When a virus enters a body, the body core temperature increases to kill off the invading offender. In that tussle, either the host or the virus dies. So when the world becomes over-populated, Mother nature tries to maintain equilibrium. She causes global warming and significant catastrophes. In that manner, people are killed, and homeostasis is preserved. That is the basis of a mad internet billionaire developing a SIM card which he distributes free to everyone. He preselects a set of people for his new world, and he then activates the SIM card for the rest of the world to whack the living daylight out of each other and virtually self destruct each other. In the end, the mad man plans to start a human civilisation all over again.

The storyline sounds outlandish. Well, it is cartoonish too. It reminds you of the 1996 flop 'Mars Attack!'

Kingsman is a brand of a custom-made man clothing line which also has a band of suave secret agents who are work tirelessly to save the world. In one of the endeavours in the Middle East, one agent is killed in the crossfire. His widow, who is crossed with his loss refuse to have anything to do with her husband's employer.

17 years later, she is an abusive relationship, and the son of the agent is a delinquent. When the son is incarcerated for car theft, he uses a particular phone to get his get-out-of-jail-free card. That slowly snowballs into his excellent self being recruited as a secret agent candidate of Kingsman Secret Service.

They came in contact with a mad billionaire (Valentine, Samuel L Jackson) and deadly double amputee sidekick with killer blades! With an array of head busting armamentarium guns and ala-John Steed type dangerous umbrella, the Kingsman's men and lady save the world.

Just another mindless time pass movie...

Forgive, forget and move on...

Senyap (The Look of Silence, Indonesian, documentary; 2014)

Director: Joshua Oppenheimer

This well deserved multiple award winning documentary film is actually a follow-up to 2012 'The Act of Killing' by the same director. Both documentaries look at Indonesia's marred history with the handling with supposed communist sympathisers in 1965/66 era. An estimated one million people perished then.

In the former film, the narration was from the perpetrators who carried out the so-called justice of the rulers of the land. In the sequelae, the approach is from the victim's perspective. Adi, an optician, had an elder brother who was killed during those tumultuous times. Adi himself was born about 3 years after the episode. Adi, a father himself of 2 young kids, tries to subtly interview the past militia men who carried out the murders under the guise of offering free optical consultation.
The presentation managed to draw in the emotional aspect of the interviewer (i.e. Adi) through slow long shots and concentrating on facial mannerisms and expressions. The slow laid back photography showing much of the village landscape and the villagers' houses accentuates the nostalgic, pensive and sometimes surreal mood. Adi's parents, a demented almost blind old man and a old lady who attends to her husband's every need live all by themselves in the memory of their past. Adi's father, because of his medical condition, is oblivious to what is happening and has no recollection of his son, his killing or that matter, his own age! Adi's mother, even though bitter about the whole episode, would not rekindle the past but let it be bygones.

What Adi cannot stomach is the fact that his brother's killers are still walking around without an iota of guilt amongst them. Some are even holding important reputable posts and command respect from the community.

Oppenheimer leads another crew to interview two men who had actually killed Ady's brother personally. They go on to describe the gory details of their actions, slowly disembowelling and mutilating his genitals. These perpetrators did not exhibit any remorse of their action. They, in fact, feel proud for being there to protect the country from the tyranny of communism. They took great pride in demonstrating their prowess in slaughtering communist insurgents 50 years previously. To them, communism is godless belief and it was bad. They were told by their leaders that the communists were bad, so they must be bad. Asked on the morality of their acts, they just shudder and were emphatic that what they did was correct at that time.

The irony of all is that the ex-vigilantes are now pious family people who utter godly words in their every sentence. There was an ex-member who genuinely felt remorseful of the whole event and took the courage to apologise unabashedly to the grieved family. The majority of them were quite defensive and refuse to admit any wrong doings on their part.

As it had been often told, we, the human race, are a bunch of rash unthinking species. At the drop of provocation, with the element of doubt when we feel our comfort zone is threatened, we recoil into defensive mode. The devil in us take charge and the worst of the primal animal behaviour surfaces. As always when the climax of violence and destruction is complete, only then our godly inner eyes open. We come to our senses, we try to clear the slate, forgive, forget and move on. We console ourselves that we are weak and we err and to forgive is divine that revenge would leave everyone dead! 

Should I stay or should I go?

Migrating to Australia, good meh?
Authors: Ken And Michael Soong.

In the typical conceited Malaysian fashion complacent with his comfort zone and would not lift his finger to help his helpless neighbour, most of my friends who saw the title of the book were quick and forthcoming with their unsolicited advice, went on a with unpunctuated liberal last words. "You don't need read a book to know that, come here, I'll tell you!" they said.

Sure, it is easy to go on a rant on the merits and demerits of migration, the push and pull factors, of political and economic refuge. Sure, our forefathers took the bold step of giving up they had, which is what they never had, as times were bad then. It was a question of whether staying for a saviour to turn up to save the day, to become a statistic or plunge into the pit of uncertainty. Those were different times with different needs. We have come a long way from living to survive to living to prosper.

This book, in my view, gives a balanced view of what a potential migrant should consider before deciding to bade adieu to to this tropical shores.
The Soongs urge their readers to consider a few pitfalls and potential headache areas. Are you willing to able to accept your offspring embracing the Western culture, giving up your ancestral tongue and cultures? Are you willing to be treated like how Malaysians look at their foreign workers? No matter how much can be said, racism is still part and parcel of humankind. When a citizen who is cushy with laid back lifestyle suddenly sees how the competitive immigrants grab all available opportunities, tempers are bound to be stirred. The 'rustbelt' schools with uninitiated students, facilities and fatigued teachers cannot be the reason for Malaysian to forgo everything they have here to experience the piece of the Australian pie. One has to be in the right neighbourhood to enjoy good schools, neighbours and piece of mind. Schoolyard bullying is a rampant problem down under. They go on giving survival tips to potential migrants to blend in to this welfare state system and even succeed in life. Many examples of successful migration stories are laid out.

At the end of the day, we should ask ourselves why do we want to give up everything that we have here and start all anew. If it is for the betterment of our young one, how can they be at peace and pave themselves along the right path when they see their elders go through hell on our daily basis to bring food on the table? Success and good life can be achieved anywhere if we put our mind and soul into it.

Should I stay or should I go - The Clash

The sad tale of riches to rags!

Thanks to RS for opening my eyes to show me that there are many more things unknown to me...
The fascinating tale of Maharaja Daleep Singh who relinquished the Koh-i-Noor to become the most prominent fixture in Queen Victoria’s court. But his Indian past came back to haunt him, writes Ammar Ali Qureshi –

A young Maharajah Daleep Singh

Maharaja Ranjit Singh is arguably the most remarkable figure in Punjab’s history. His son and last ruler of the Sikh Empire, Daleep Singh, is perhaps the most tragic. Ranjit succeeded his father as head of a small confederacy at the age of ten and, owing to his military genius, became the ruler of Punjab when he was twenty-one. He turned the tide of history by taking the battle to the land of the invaders on the western front, and conquered them; His empire, which lasted for fifty years from 1799 to 1849, stretched from the southern districts of Punjab to Afghanistan in the west Kashmir (which also included Ladakh and Gilgit and Baltistan) in the north-east, and up to Sutlej (which flows through Indian states of Punjab, Haryana and Himachal Pardesh) in the east. Ranjit’s greatest achievement, however, was not military but political conquest, as he was able to unite Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs under one banner. Ranjit Singh died in 1839 and in just ten years a combination of treacherous and intriguing courtiers, incompetent rulers, and an assertive and aggressive but leaderless army brought the empire of an exceptional man to a humiliating end. Within four years of Ranjit’s death, his three successors were murdered; Daleep Singh, born in Lahore in 1838 to Ranjit’s youngest wife Maharani Jind Kaur, became the boy-king at the age of five in 1843 with his ambitious mother as the regent.

Daleep Singh as country gentleman

Following Ranjit’s death and during the rule of his weak successors, the Punjab Khalsa army emerged as the kingmaker, the most powerful player in the state which dictated its demands through its delegates known as Panchayats or Committees of Five. Maharani Jind Kaur and her scheming courtiers were wary of the army’s power and devised a plan to tame it by provoking it to invade British territory across the Sutlej, in the hope that it would be cut down to size by the British or its energies would be exhausted in the campaigns of conquest. It turned out to be a major miscalculation as the British coveted Punjab and considered Lahore Durbar an obstacle in their expansion plans. The invasion gave them the impetus to move eastward, defeating the Khalsa army, after fiercely fought battles, in the First Anglo-Sikh War in 1846. The Maharani was removed from the guardianship of her son, imprisoned initially in Punjab and later banished to Benares in present-day Uttar Pradesh, from where she escaped to Nepal and lived there virtually as a prisoner till 1861. Daleep Singh was placed under the guardianship of the Council of Regency, controlled by a British Resident, till his eventual dethronement when Punjab was annexed in 1849.

Victoria and Koh-i-Noor 

The Anglo-Sikh wars of 1846 and 1849 were the fiercest and deadliest that the British encountered in India. So grave was the situation that the British Governor General, Sir Henry Hardinge, had to come to the aid of the British Commander in Chief, Sir Hugh Gough, and served under him. On the Punjab Khalsa army side, it was a lack of efficient leadership which resulted in defeat, although they were able to inflict colossal losses on the British. The rank and file of the Khalsa army put up the bravest and steadiest of fights against the British. However, their military generals were political figures, appointed by the ruling family, who lacked military expertise, indulged in double-dealing, and were traitors within the gates. –

In 1845, the Sikh Generals crossed the Sutlej but deliberately did not attack Ferozepur, the forward British base. The battles were fought at Mudki, Ferozeshah, Aliwal, and Sabraon – all of them fiercely contested by both sides. Each of these battles might have been a defeat for the British if the traitorous Punjabi military commanders had not left the field. The same story was repeated in 1849 in the battles of Ramnagar, Chilianwala and Gujrat – as the Sikh soldiers fought fearlessly but were let down by their commanders. “No troops could have fought better,” observed military historian G.B Malleson, “than the Sikhs fought, no army could have been worse led. Had a guiding mind directed the movements of the Sikh army, nothing could have saved the exhausted British.”

Maharani Bamba, Daleep Singh’s wife

The conditions of surrender in 1849 required Daleep to renounce his title to the sovereignty of Punjab, ordered confiscation of state property, and demanded the surrender of the spectacular and sparkling Koh-i-Noor diamond to Queen Victoria. Daleep, in return, was granted a pension, provided he remained “obedient to the British Government”.

All of the Kingdom’s property, including the Koh-i-noor and other jewels, now belonged to the British

Rajmohan Gandhi writes about the end of Lahore Durbar in his recently published history of Punjab: “On 29 March 1849, a ten-year-old Dalip Singh was told to sign a document. Writing his name in Roman letters, the boy-king renounced, on his behalf and on behalf of all heirs and successors, every ‘right, title or claim’ to Punjab. All of the Kingdom’s property, including the Koh-i-noor and other jewels, now belonged to the British. The Sikh kingdom gone, all of Punjab was annexed to British India. The proclamation of annexation read out that day was received by those present with silence”.

Daleep Singh statue at Thetford, Suffolk

The real plan was to convert Daleep to Christianity

In 1850, Daleep was moved to Fatehgarh, a center of Christian missionaries located on the bank of the Ganges in present-day Uttar Pradesh, and placed under the guardianship of a Scottish army doctor, Dr. John Login. Previously tutored in Persian and Gurmukhi, Daleep was taught English in addition to Persian and made to read the Bible. Ostensibly, he had been removed from Punjab due to fear of further rebellion, but the real plan was to convert Daleep to Christianity and exile him to England. In 1853 Daleep converted to Christianity, which as the British Governor General wrote rendered Daleep politically irrelevant to the Sikhs, and sailed to England a year later, receiving a twenty-one gun salute at Malta and Gibraltar after a brief stopover in Egypt. He arrived in London in the summer of 1854 and very soon was invited by Buckingham Palace. The first meeting between the fifteen-year old Indian prince and thirty five-year old Queen Victoria, who would continue to have profound influence on his subsequent life, went very well and Daleep became an instant favourite of the British monarch. She described him as ‘extremely handsome’ and possessing ‘a graceful and dignified manner’. She was so impressed that she commissioned her favourite artist to paint his portrait. Prince Albert, her husband, had a special coat of arms designed for him. He partied with the crème de la crème of Victorian Britain and seduced a string of society beauties Although Victoria never visited India, she was drawn to all things Indian and enjoyed the company of the English-speaking young Maharajah. She remained a friend and a supporter to his last day as their relationship weathered many storms in the next four decades. Daleep was regularly invited to all social events at Buckingham Palace and was addressed as “Your Serene Highness”. He partied with the crème de la crème of Victorian Britain and seduced a string of society beauties. Her Majesty even tried her hand at match-making and suggested the exiled Raja of Coorg’s daughter, who was also her god-daughter, as a suitable match to Daleep, who politely declined saying that he wanted to wait till the age of twenty-one or twenty-two before he got married. Interestingly, Daleep, a few years later, introduced the exiled princess to an English widower, whom she married.

Maharani Jind Kaur, Daleep Singh’s mother. 

As an infant in Punjab, Daleep loved falconry and learned to hunt and shoot. In England, he took to the countryside and indulged in his passion of game-shooting. He travelled through Europe in 1857 and it was in Geneva when he first came to know about the Indian revolt and mutiny in Meerut. Daleep was unwilling to condemn it and when the British foreign secretary complained about his attitude to the queen, she answered that a young Indian prince, barred from his ancestral throne and forced to live in Britain, should not be expected to denounce Indians. Back in 1849 Daleep had been coerced to hand over the Koh-i-Noor to the British Governor General in India. One day when he was having his usual conversations with Queen Victoria at Buckingham Palace she showed him the famous diamond. Daleep took it towards the window and examined it intensely for more than half an hour without uttering a word. Her Majesty’s staff displayed anxiety as they thought he might throw it out of the window but Daleep came back to the queen and handed it back to her with the words: ‘It is to me, Madam, the greatest pleasure thus to have the opportunity, as a loyal subject, of myself tendering to my sovereign the Koh-i-Noor.

Princess Bamba Sutherland in traditional dress after her move to Lahore

Daleep enjoyed the life of an English country gentleman and acquired, through a British government loan, a sprawling 17,000 acre estate at Elveden, Suffolk, located in the north-east of London. He loved his Elveden estate and converted it into an Indian-style palace, the interiors done up in Mughal and Indian décor and equipped with expensive carpets, ceramics and glassware. Elveden had a huge aviary which housed his rare collection of birds and a number of cheetahs, leopards and monkeys were kept in a menagerie. Turning Elveden into one of the best sporting venues in the country, Daleep reveled in hosting parties for Victorian aristocracy where the Prince of Wales was a regular guest for shooting games. In 1861, Daleep travelled to India and brought his mother to Britain. He was not permitted to visit Punjab and had an emotional reunion with his mother, meeting her after nearly 14 years, in Calcutta, which was then the capital of British India. Maharani Jind was perceived by the British as a bad influence and an intriguer by disposition. Back in London, she was not allowed to live with Daleep and was lodged up in Kensington in west London. Her residence was a source of wonder for her London neighbors who would often stop to have a look at the basement, where her Indian cooks would be busy preparing her food, and sniff the pungent smells of Indian curry! Maharani Jind Kaur had wanted her ashes to be interred at the Maharaja Ranjit Singh memorial in Lahore British suspicions about Maharani Jind were not unfounded; she informed Daleep about the supposed prophecy of the tenth Sikh guru regarding an exiled prince who would come back to rule Punjab. This prophecy would bother Daleep’s mind a lot in years to come. Maharani was in poor health, nearly blind, and suddenly died in 1863. Daleep again travelled to India to cremate her in Bombay as he was not allowed to visit Punjab, although his mother had wanted her ashes to be interred at Maharaja Ranjit Singh memorial in Lahore.

Princess Bamba’s grave at the ‘gora kabristan’ in Lahore

On his way back, he stopped at Cairo and married, in June 1864, a missionary school teacher, Bamba Muller, an illegitimate daughter of an Ethiopian Coptic slave and Ludwig Muller who was a German businessman. Bamba lived with him in Elveden and gave birth to seven children – two of whom died in infancy. His five children – two sons and three daughters-lived like royalty in the sprawling mansion. Both sons – Victor and Fredrick – went to Eton and Cambridge and gained commission in the British army. His three daughters – Bamba, Sophia and Catherine studied at Oxford.

Daleep Singh’s life can be divided into four distinct phases: boy-king, dethronement and banishment outside Punjab, exile to England and life as an English country gentleman, and a rebel who plotted but did not succeed in reclaiming his throne. The last phase of his life started around 1880 when he read for the first time about the circumstances leading to his dethronement and conditions attached with annexation. Swayed by feelings of resentment and revenge and spurred on by the prophecy of the tenth guru, Daleep entered into a long battle with the British government, arguing about the illegality of the annexation of Punjab and demanded that he be reinstated as the Maharaja. Victoria offered him peerage in the House of Lords but he declined although he was facing financial problems and his health had begun to deteriorate. He read; he schemed; he failed. British spies kept a close eye on him and intercepted his mail to foil his plans. Having resigned the stipend given to him by the British government, Daleep, along with his family, boarded the ship, in 1886, and informed the government that he was going to India to reclaim his throne. He was detained at Aden in Yemen where he re-embraced the Sikh faith. Daleep sent his family back to England but himself went to Paris.

Elveden Hall, home of Raja Daleep Singh 

He lived in Paris for six years, dreaming and planning to return to India

Conspiring with Russian and Irish revolutionaries in Paris, he escaped to Russia but could not get an audience with the Czar although he wrote on his file that he could be used at some later stage. Fate had not yet finished her sport with Daleep. His Russian patron suddenly passed away and with him died any chances of winning over any Russian support for his plan to enter Punjab through the Khyber Pass. His wife expired in England while he was in Russia but in Paris he had acquired an English mistress, Ada Wetherhill, whom he married on his return to Paris and had two daughters with – Alexandra and Ada Irene Helene. By then his health had started deteriorating as his financial position became weaker by the day. His son tried to bring about reconciliation between him and Queen Victoria, who met him in France, in 1891, and pardoned him as he wept through the meeting.

Duleep Singh’s grave at Elveden 

Daleep was born in a royal palace in Lahore and brought up by a legion of servants and courtiers. He inherited the most powerful and rich of the Indian states, which was many times larger than Britain. But in October 1893, Daleep passed away in a small hotel room in Paris, alone and penniless. His dead body was taken back to Elveden where he was buried, next to his first wife and youngest son, in the church’s graveyard. His daughter settled in Lahore and married the Principal of the King Edward Medical College Princess Bamba Sofia, his eldest daughter, went to India in 1924 and took her grandmother’s ashes from Bombay to Lahore to be interred there as per her wish. Bamba settled in Lahore, married the Principal of King Edward Medical College, Mr Sutherland, and died in Lahore in 1957 – ten years after partition. Daleep’s one son and three daughters married but surprisingly none of them had any children – bringing Ranjit’s lineage to an end after two generations although his name continues to inspire many.

The author’s ancestors served as chief Qazis of Punjab during the reigns of Ranjit Singh and his successors till the fall of the Lahore Durbar in 1849.