In the early 1980s, after sightseeing in Udaipur, we packed our bags to go home to New Delhi, about 700 km away. At the station, we searched for an “unreserved” coach on the train. We scrambled into the compartment making our way through several men, women and children sprawled all over, most with their legs resting on the opposite seat, trying to be as comfortable as possible preparing for the nine-hour journey.
Too busy trying to get a seat for ourselves, we hardly noticed a young foreigner couple, already ensconced next to a window, going through a Lonely Planet guide, exclaiming as they recognised various sights they had just seen. Is this train always so crowded, they wanted to know.
Every traveller on an Indian train wants to know even small details of fellow travellers. Foreigners especially are the centre of attention. But here, the fellow passengers knew very little English and soon, everyone got tired of speaking to the couple in sign language.
The train started off, the stations were few and far between and it wasn’t long before we started making desultory conversation with the couple, who told us that they lived in Notting Hill, a neighbourhood of London, and were touring India taking in as many sights and cities as they could during their short holiday.
They had taken out a board of Scrabble, and were surprised when we offered to join them. Only English words must be used, they emphasised displaying a dictionary which would be the ultimate arbiter. Though playing against the English and that too from London would be a major challenge, we timidly agreed.
The beginning was tough, they obviously knew how to maximise points. The train sped on, the four of us oblivious to the delightful scenery, the broad expanses of the Aravalli range, the picturesque sand dunes, glimpses of wildlife and scattered settlements. The man sat smugly with his letter set perched neatly, while I nervously cradled mine on my lap concentrating, both of us determined to win. Was he getting desperate? He spelt the word “bitten” with a single “t” whereupon I challenged him. The dictionary confirmed I was correct and after this, there was no looking back. Some deft moves and I won!
It was delightful beating a Londoner in a game of English language skills. Victory was sweet indeed that even 40-odd years after the trip, I remember the game so vividly.
India is the second-largest English-speaking country after the U.S. English has helped unify the Subcontinent, as a common tongue for administration and education. And Indians take special delight in proving themselves better than the English in their own language.
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