By: Ganesh Saili
‘After me, who will own this place? No one knows?’ The philosopher in Kishore Kumar Kaya shows himself from time to time. He is a humble man with a spiritual bent of mind, who just happens to own Mussoorie’s iconic Savoy Hotel.
The last owner, Anand Jauhar, and I were good friends. Years ago, I was alongside him, just outside the landing of the bar, when a youngster approached him to ask, ‘Sir! Are you the manager?’
‘I’m not!’ quipped Nandu, adding, ‘But the way things are going, I will soon be!’ Of course, we knew that Nandu and Mr Sethi, the manager, did not see eye to eye on most matters.
On another occasion, we were aboard the night train to Delhi. It stopped briefly in Haridwar; we stepped out to stretch our legs on the platform. Just then, an out-of-breath bureaucrat in a tearing hurry, with a huffing-and-puffing turbaned peon in tow, approached Nandu, who was wearing his usual navy-blue pullover. ‘Are you the conductor?’ he asked.
Pic courtesy: author’s collection
‘I’m not,’ said Nandu. “But the way things are going, I will soon be!’
‘My apologies!’ said the fellow, heading off with his peon in search of the missing conductor.
Several years later, my friend (a celebrated author) and I arrived at a hotel. Some guests were having a bash to celebrate the reunion of old batchmates when the flustered manager strolled in and proceeded to introduce him to the guests gathered in the lobby, saying, ‘This is the famous author, Mark Tully.’ Now, Mark Tully, an ex-correspondent of the BBC, had been in the news after the publication of his book, ‘India Unplugged’ – which was making headlines.
My friend, the author, took it in his stride; he just smiled, shook hands and let the moment pass.
Pic courtesy: Tulika Singh Roy
In August 1997, the National Administrative Academy celebrated fifty years of Indian Independence. Many guests had been invited, which included a few firangis – among them some from ICS. Amongst them, wearing a red cummerbund, was Roger Pierce, who had spent many years in Sindh. His sister, Phillipa Pierce, a well-known children’s author, had been in touch with our friend the author. She had written to him, saying her brother was going to be in Mussoorie. Pierce was a wonderful fellow, chugging along in his eighties, very gifted but possessed of a wicked sense of humour. He went home and told his sister, Phillipa, that her author friend’s life was in grave danger. She wrote to ask: ‘Is your life in danger? Roger tells me that you go around with a burly bodyguard.’
Now I have been called many names, but ‘burly bodyguard’ was a whole new role for me to get used to. I’ll concede that my bald pate might be considered menacing, but the ‘Laughing Buddha’ belly around my midriff tends to negate that perception.
Yes! In Landour, everyone you meet is a celebrity or at least a has-been celebrity. The other day I was invited to lunch by a caboodle of bureaucrats. I like you had no idea what I was doing. There was once a time when I was of help in propping up the bar, or in ‘juicing up’ the proceedings. But in my present shape, I would rather give it a pass.
I arrived at the venue ahead of schedule. Our host, when he eventually turned up, was in a bit of a flap. He laid the blame for the delay on the weekend traffic snarls. Gasping like a drowning man surfacing for air, he mumbled introductions. I kept a wary eye on him as he waddled towards me to blurt: ‘This is the famous photographer Mr Saili – who has illustrated Jim Corbett’s books!’
Though it would have been an honour, but it was most untrue. While I have on occasion illustrated a few of my author friend’s many books, to illustrate Jim Corbett’s books? Not a fat chance.
The fact is that when the famous hunter and writer ‘Jim’ Corbett was laid to rest in Nyeri, Kenya, in 1955, I was barely seven years old. And cameras? My career in photography was decades away!
Rest in peace, Carpet Sahib.
Ganesh Saili, born and home-grown in the hills, belongs to those select few whose words are illustrated by their pictures. As the author of two dozen books, some translated into twenty languages, his work has found renown worldwide.
