The Sibbals

Success is in their blood

Sibal family.

This is a story that has its origins in Dingah village of Gujarat district in Pakistan, when 18-year-old Hira Lal Sibal married 14-year-old Kailash Rani of Bhimbar which is now a part of PoK. Mr Sibal went on to practice in the Punjab High Court in Lahore where his five children were born. Partition forced them out of their home in Lahore. Mr Sibal is nostalgic when he says, “We shifted from Lahore to Jalandhar, hoping that we would be able to return to our home after conditions improved. But that was not to be, so we moved to Shimla, and then when the Punjab and Haryana High Court shifted to Chandigarh in 1955, we did too”.

Sibal’s reputation as an advocate specialising in civil, criminal and election law is well-founded. He has been Advocate-General four times and was elected as the first non-official president of the Chandigarh Club, Rotary Club. He has been president of the High Court Bar Association twice.

Mr Sibal’s eldest son, V.K. Sibal, qualified for the IAS and opted for a UN deputation with the FAO. He is presently a judge with the Punjab Human Rights Commission. J.K. Sibal also qualified for the IAS and was assigned the MP cadre. After 18 years, he quit to return to legal practice in Chandigarh and is presently an advocate of repute.

Kanwal Sibal qualified for the IFS and rose to become India’s Foreign Secretary. He has recently been appointed Ambassador to Russia. The youngest Kapil Sibal also qualified for the IAS but chose the legal profession and went on to become a reputed Supreme Court advocate before he joined the Congress and is now a minister. Mr Sibal’s only daughter Asha is married to the former MD of Metalbox and former Chairman of BATA.

Mr Sibal’s wife, Kailash Rani, keeps a beautiful home and garden in Sector 5, Chandigarh. She has a photographic memory and follows a disciplined schedule, “Discipline is the quality I passed on to my children”, she says. Excerpts from an interview given to Bilawal and Punam Khaira Sidhu:

You must be a very proud father. What inspired your children to join the civil services ?

V.K. Sibal qualified for the IAS and set the trend for the others. I am indeed very proud of all of them as they are all good humans.

Were all of your son’s good at studies and academically inclined at an early age?

Yes, they all excelled in academics. I rarely had to tell them to study. They were all very motivated youngsters, who I knew would succeed in whatever they chose to do.

What schools did they go to?

They have studied at various schools and colleges in Shimla, Chandigarh and Ludhiana as we shifted from Shimla to Chandigarh. The youngest, Kapil, studied in St Johns and then moved on to St Stephens College in Delhi.

What were your sons interests/hobbies?

V.K. was an avid reader. There is hardly a book or an author he has not read. J.K. and Kanwal excelled in debates etc while Kapil was an all-rounder excelling in sports, dramatics and a cinema enthusiast.

Was there a lot of sibling rivalry?

Yes, but it was healthy and that is why each has tried to set the bar.

What are the qualities you ascribe to their success?

My wife and I tried to imbibe the qualities of discipline, honesty and perseverence in all of them.

How much has Chandigarh changed since you first moved here?

The changes have been dramatic. Chandigarh was a city of barely one lakh population and today it is over 10 lakh. It is dirty, polluted and crowded. The civic infrastructure and law and order set-up is under tremendous pressure.

What improvements would you like to see in the city?

Planned development of the periphery and satellite cities of Mohali and Panchkula can ease the pressure on Chandigarh. Each resident also needs to be aware of his civic responsibility to keep the city beautiful.

What is your message for the youth?

Work with sincerity and honesty to achieve your goals. Let it be like an obsession and you will achieve great results. As for the rest, destiny also determines your fate.

To a grandfather with love

REMEMBRANCE
To a grandfather with love
Punam Khaira Sidhu

He was an immaculate dresser, this graduate Civil Engineer from Kings College, London. He lay now calm and serene, at the end of life’s journey, dressed in his favourite suit and tie. His silver beard was neatly tucked into place by his devoted grieving family. His wife Satwant, a doctor, who had nursed him tirelessly in his last days, his daughters Jyoti, Guddi and Nina, their husbands, his sons, KPS Gill and Birendar and their wives and his grandchildren who stood huddled close to the pyre unwilling as it were to let go of the man of steel who had formed the backbone of their family for almost a century. He was 94.

As a young girl preparing for the Civil Services exams I thought I knew all there was about the Punjab river waters dispute. But that was until I had a talk with R.S. Gill. In 1947, as an OSD, he had dealt with the claims of Punjab on Pakistan before the Arbitration Tribunal was set up. The depth of his knowledge, his insights into the politics of the dispute, was a talk I will never forget. It was also a valuable first lesson in the machinations of bureaucracy and politics.

His achievements were prodigious by any standards. He had served as Chairman of the Punjab and J&K State Electricity Boards. He had worked on the Bhakra Dam project, the Beas project for the Pong Dam, the Upper Sind hydel project and the Jhelum hydel project and finally the Ranjit Sagar Dam. He was a consultant with various engineering colleges, IITs and projects as far as Kuwait and Libya.

But above all he was a much loved and respected man both within his family and for those outside like us. After my grandfather passed away, Rachpal Singh Gill was to our family the only grandfather we knew.

If he had to be described in one word it would be the Punjabi word “Syana” and the English word “sterling”. In addition to being wise, he was mature and farsighted. Perhaps that is why whenever anyone had a problem, he or she, consulted him. And he always found time for everyone. He was a stickler for discipline adhering religiously to his schedule. The timing for his meals, his bath, his walk, was strictly implemented. The only other person in my acquaintance who is such a sticker for discipline is Khushwant Singh, another prodigiously talented man. R.S. Gill was also a keen chess player. He was a keen observer of human nature with an unfailing memory for names and details.

The last time we visited him in hospital was when his pacemaker needed a change. He returned from hospital to make a full recovery until the final accident. An almirah under fabrication sat balanced precariously. He was taking a look at it when if fell onto him. He was in pain — multiple fractures including one on the neck of the femur. So back to the PGI it was. For his family who nursed him so lovingly, it was painful to see him suffer.

Yesterday there was an official party. But we were committed to visiting him in hospital. We missed the party to visit him and spend time with him. He held my husband’s hand and told him that he had read about his organisation’s work which was doing a fine job. He remembered my sons’ names and enquired about each of them. When I told him that we would pray for him, he said, “a grandchild’s prayers are always answered but, child, I don’t have the strength to fight this time.” I have never dared hug him when he was well, but I asked if I could hug him there in the hospital bed. “Of course”, he said. So carefully avoiding the tubes and all, I did hug him.

The news came the next morning that he had passed away. At night we were grateful for those precious moments with him. Goodbye Gill Uncle, we’ll miss you. To the grieving family we can only say we all stand with you in your hour of grief for the wonderful man we have all loved and lost.

Nank The Guru: Mala Dayal

Distinctive strokes
Punam Khaira Sidhu

Nanak: The Guru
by Mala Dayal. Illustrations by Arpana Caur. Rupa. Pages 48. Rs 195.

AS a parent of one teenager and one tweenie (pre-teen), I am often concerned by their lack of interest in reading books. Television and video games dominate their leisure time. If this generation is to be weaned away from their plasma screens and I-pods, the subject has to be a visual treat strong enough to grab their eyeballs and the text has be pithy and brief. Mala Dayal, the author who has been involved with developing, selecting, editing and writing material for children for over 30 years, has clearly imbibed this lesson well because, in this collaboration with Arpana Caur, the artist, she achieves near perfection. The Ardas offered by every Sikh is to invoke Lord’s blessings to bless him with the strength and the will to read and listen to the scriptures, "Bani padhan te sunan da bal bakhsho", which is indeed a fine introduction to the Guru’s legacy for a child.

In the space of 48 pages, most of the Janamsakhis associated with Guru Nanak Devji’s life find a place in this book in a language that is simple and lucid, yet conveys the essence of the Guru’s life and teachings through its simplicity. The prose is used as an effective medium for the Guru’s message. The teachings of Guru Nanak, the first Guru of the Sikhs who laid the foundation of the fine traditions of langar and exhorted people to rise above caste and material considerations because they were all children of one God, are as relevant today as they were when He composed the Japji Sahib, Asa di Var and Mul Mantra beneath the early morning sky in Kartarpur in the 1500s. This is a book a child or an adult can read in one sitting, yet gain a pleasing insight into the life of a visionary and a leader of men of all faiths. The author puts it succinctly through the saying "Baba Nanak Shah Fakir, Hindu ka Guru, Musalman ka Pir".

Mala Dayal, who is publisher Ravi Dayal’s wife, has dedicated the book to her father, the celebrated author Khushwant Singh, for whom this was a surprise Baisakhi gift this year. Caur’s painting of the Guru Granth Sahib, protecting her grandfather and carrying his belongings in a sack from Pakistan in her "Partition Series" has always been a personal favourite. The visuals in this book are in Caur’s trademark style of stocky figures with their strong folk motif underpinnings, the colours rich and textured to complement the elegant pared down text. The mala and khadava of the Guru have been used as a leitmotif throughout.

When I first browsed through Roopinder Singh’s Guru Nanak—His Life and Teachings, also by Rupa, my immediate reaction was: "Here’s a Collectors Edition at paperback prices". I remember buying several copies for NRI friends and family, who look forward to books, which will introduce their children to the Gurus and indeed to the Sikh faith and maryada. Mala Dayal’s Guru Nanak is another book in the same genre, though for a younger audience. It has evocative illustrations. As a parent, it is my sincere hope that this collaboration of author and artist will not stop at this single volume.

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Passage to England

Passage to England

Punam Khaira Sidhu on the Queen’s country and its sights, the attitudes and lifestyle of the Britons and the Asian immigrants

Victoria and Albert Museum

The London Underground

Hyde Park, a must-see on every tourist’s itinerary

WHEN we took off from New Delhi, it was with a head full of Noddy-inspired images, envisioning England as a country of villages with rose briars on gates, gnarled apple trees and green meadows with fluffy sheep. When we landed in Manchester, it was anticlimactic. There were lots of Indians and the Metropolis was just like Bangalore or Gurgaon except that it was cleaner, and much colder.

It was September and the country was experiencing an Indian summer. The sun did not set until 9 pm and the British, who are huge sun worshippers, were out all day in the briefest of shorts armed with large tubes of sun block. The houses did not have ceiling fans: with global warming raising temperatures around the globe the British Isles are a huge market for Indian fan manufacturers to explore.

Britain is a welfare state. The State steps in with free medical care through the National Health Service (NHS), free and compulsory education, free or subsidised council housing, benefits for unemployment, heating bills, child support and disabilities etc. The British public transport system is robust with buses, trams and trains. In the cities, the identically constructed semi-detached and terraced houses, made familiar in the Granada studios’ popular TV soap, The East-Enders, are occupied largely by the middle classes. Each area has its own market, surgery, school and pub. Residential areas in the UK are very stratified. You are where you live and are immediately slotted by your residential postal code. While students live near the cheaper City Centre, the more affluent live in country homes with gardens. That’s where you can see the rose briars and green meadows.

Welfare state notwithstanding, the Thatcher years have seen a cutback on the State’s role and deficit and there is no permanent employment only, continuous employability. Multi-skilling is the new mantra. The British are unfailingly polite and correct. Every telephone query is prefaced with a "How may I help you?" They are also very fair in their dealings regardless of the fact that Asians have swamped their tiny isle and pose a substantial burden on the welfare state. But Britons are reserved and most personal interaction is within segregated community groups. Chicken tikka may be a national favourite but notwithstanding professional achievements immigrants can only be second-best citizens.

University education is expensive and students work to support their education. Students stack shelves in stores, work at data entry and in restaurants cooking naans or noodles late into the night. Immigrant Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis and Chinese abound in the UK. Bangladeshi’s in fact are the backbone of the couture garment trade in the UK of which Petticoat Lane on the outskirts of London is an example.

The first generation Asians were relatively unskilled and poorly educated but they worked hard to put the second generation through university and into professions. Almost every Asian is a success story in his/her own measure. My friends in the UK IRS told me that Asian immigrants are also responsible for widening the cash trades in this credit card economy. Hence, whether it is the weekly grocery market, homemade goodies, or repair jobs, the Asians will do them and hope the taxman does not find their trail. Most Asians also moonlight ie do more than one job in their spare time.

Pubs in the UK serve bitter, lager and the Irish draught beer, Guinness, along with delicious home cooked samples of British cuisine such as Yorkshire pudding and rhubarb, steak and kidney pie and a large variety of sausages with the omnipresent fries flavoured with barbeque sauce and vinegar. Lunch is called dinner while dinner is called supper.

Football is religion in the UK. Britons have deep-seated club loyalties and the devout sport the club uniforms and sing the club anthem with fervour. Arsenal, Manchester United, Chelsea and Liverpool top the present rankings.

Rupert Murdoch’s Sun with its Page 3 topless model, is the tabloid with the largest circulation. Other tabloids include the Daily Mirror, Star and Daily Mail. The broadsheets, the Sunday Observer, Telegraph, Independent and Guardian still command a loyal readership.

The National Lottery with a top prize of millions of pounds has a draw every Wednesday and Saturday. A ticket costs a pound and can be picked up at almost all commercial establishments. The average Briton is tolerant of the royalty, but obsesses over the colourful Beckhams and loves business pashas like Sir Richard Branson of Virgin Atlantic fame who create jobs and wealth. Stores like Debenhams and Marks and Spencer stock quality at value for money prices and their blue cross sales are sellouts. Stella McCartney and John Galliano are the homegrown stars on the couture horizon.

Heritage is big business in the UK and large homes have opened their grounds to the public for a price. Heritage buildings are protected by strict conservation laws, which do not allow even a pin to be put on the fa`E7ade without invoking a penalty. We had the temerity, albeit in complete ignorance, to put a DTH antenna on the fa`E7ade of Brian Redhead Court, a 100-year-old building which housed our student flats, to get our daily fix of Zee TV. There was consternation and a show-cause and we were almost evicted.

Third generation Asians who know which fork to use are the Britons who meld effortlessly. But for the others being away from home seems to intensify their need to stay in touch with their cultural identity in what borders on paranoia. On festivals and weddings the fervour has to be seen to be believed: remember Bend it like Beckham. There are several gurdwaras and mandirs. Most are run by devout faithfuls but power politics does prevail. They also provide a hub for social activities and help-groups.

We battled homesickness constantly, especially through the cold days of winter snow and sleet. The sight of banks of daffodils did nothing for our spirits unlike a squashed marigold that a visitor brought along with parshad from India. I remember inhaling the fragrance of India in that little blossom.

The neighbours calling to borrow jamun for curd, the smell of mango blossoms, jalebis, endless cups of tea with hot pakoras: we missed them all. Staying in the UK was a great experience but as I have said earlier it is not in the Queen’s country but in your country of origin that you are King.

The Story of Gur

The delectable story of gur
Punam Khaira Sidhu

Sugarcane is crushed in small mills run on electricity

EVEN as we celebrated Lohri, the table in my home groaned under the weight of gur ki gachak, gur ki reori, and gur ki chikki. As my sons bit into the delicious confectionery laden with poppy seeds and groundnuts, they queried: "What’s this stuff made up of mom?" "Jaggery or gur," I pronounced. To which the next query shot at me was, "What’s gur?"

India produces 240 to 260 million tonnes of sugarcane, out of which about 50 per cent sugarcane is crushed in 400 large sugar factories, producing 11 to 12 million tonnes of white sulphitation sugar. These giant sugar factories use vacuum pan boiling system and sulphitation process, which is carried out by sophisticated machinery and equipment. Jaggery, which accounts for half of the sugar eaten in India, is made from the remaining 50 per cent of the sugarcane grown in India.

A dark, unrefined sugar, gur or jaggery is used not only in India but in the entire subcontinent. The finished product can have a solid fudge-like consistency, or can be made into a powdery substance called shakkar. It is used to make candies, and when crushed, used as a sweetener for tea, halwa, pickles, etc. Jaggery, which has a distinctive taste, sweetens and flavours the rich coconut milk and tapioca drink from Burma, moh let saung, and Sri Lanka’s famous Vattalappam. In Thailand, it is not just used for confections but also to add a touch of sweetness to hot curries.

Making gur is a family ritual in villages of Punjab. And my earliest memories of gur-making are framed in nostalgia. A huge pair of bullocks turned the mills that crushed the cane, and the juice from sugarcane was boiled down with several people helping to stir steadily thickening syrup. Sitting around the warmth of the fire and eating the hot fudgy gur underneath a starlit sky was sheer magic. Molten jaggery is cooled before it is shaped into small cakes Back to the present I was determined that my city-bred boys should experience the magic of jaggery-making. We drove down on the Chandigarh-Patiala road to find villagers making gur. The story of gur starts in fields where sugarcane is planted. Harvesting of the sugarcane starts after Dasehra. The harvested sugarcane stalks are crushed in small mills run on electricity. The juice collected is transferred to a large settling tank. A long-handled jharni is used to clean and separate the impurities. Then the juice is transferred to a boiling pan or karaha which is arranged on a tunnel-type furnace and the juice is boiled in it. The clarification process goes on while boiling. Herbal clarificants and soda bicarbonate are sprinkled in the boiling pan frequently as and when required and dirt accumulated on the surface is frequently removed by scumming. This indigenous process requires experience and skill for maximum recovery of jaggery. The thick slurry of cane is constantly stirred so that it may not settle or form a crust on the surface. As the water evaporates from the juice, sugar crystals are formed in the thick syrup. The molten jaggery is then ready to be transferred to a large shallow wooden tray. Here it is partly cooled and set before khurpis are used to make small cakes, which are dried in the sun on plastic sheets. Gur is not just the healthier alternative to sugar but studies undertaken suggest the potential of jaggery as a protective agent for workers in dusty and smoky environments. What about the dust and smoke pollution in our cities? We could do with a protective agent too. Add gur to your diet — Gur wale chawal, gur da halwa or just plain gur ki churi — and experience the benefits of a healthier alternative to refined sugar. I’ve made a beginning by gifting gur from the family farm to friends and relatives instead of sweets in winter. Like the European tradition of the ubiquitous cheese board that finds a place on every table, start a gur board. Plain gur, gur flavoured with kaju badam, or digestive gur flavoured with ajwain (caraway) and saunf (aniseed), take your pick.

Mulk Raj Anand's Short Stories

A teller of tales
Punam Khaira Sidhu

A Pair of Mustachios
by Mulk Raj Anand, Orient Paperbacks. Pages 110, Rs 95.

THINK Indian writers writing in English and the two enduring names from the 1930s whose books are still in print are Mulk Raj Anand and R.K. Narayan. Their works have been translated into several languages.

Born in Peshawar in 1905, Mulk Raj Anand's was educated in Lahore, London and Cambridge. He lived in England for several years. What could also be of interest to readers is that Mulk Raj Anand held the prestigious Tagore Chair at Panjab University, Chandigarh.

At the age of 30, he began his most prolific period. He wrote the Untouchable (1935), followed by Coolie (1936), Two Leaves and a Bud (1937) and then the adventures of Lalu Singh, a young Sikh during World War I, in the trilogy: The Village (1939), Across the Black Waters (1940), and The Sword and the Sickle (1942). It was a richly productive literary period for him. A book a year was no mean feat. The Private Life of an Indian Prince (1953), Confessions of a Lover (1972) and The Bubble (1988) were his other well-known works.

A Pair of Mustachios is a collection of cameos, each dedicated to Anand's friends and acquaintances. The stories are drenched in the sun and soil of the Indian landscape of the 1930s and 1940s. The tale from which this collection derives its name is the story of Azam Khan, a descendant of Afghan nobility, and Seth Ramanand "a lentil-eating bania". It's a vivid pen picture of the class system under siege. Khan, who lives off pawning his wife's jewellery, prefers to defend his tiger mustache even at the cost of losing his fortune to the wily merchant. Babu Bulaki Ram is the tale of the quintessential clerk, dreading his English Karnel Sahib. On the Border, Babu Bulaki Ram and The Informer have as their backdrop the winds of the freedom struggle sweeping across the Indian countryside. Every village still has a loveable liar like Labhu, the shikari, or a cobbler like Saudagar, whose desire to own the machine he worked on drove him to his death or even a confectioner like Lala Nanakchand, who thrived by "promoting quarrels" among the simple uneducated women selling milk like Basanto and Hiro. A Rumour is the story of every simple youth like Dhandu who makes his way from the village to the town in search of a livelihood and meets with tragedy. The Maharajah and the Tortoise is a tale where the Birbalesque Prime Minister stars in a parable which could have stepped out of the pages of the Panchtantra. In sum, it's a wonderful cocktail of the writing skills that characterise Mulk Raj Anand's work and craft. It should arouse in the reader a taste for the other works that comprise the literary legacy of this talented teller of tales.

Cellphone Monogamy

Cellphone monogamy
by Punam Khaira Sidhu

MEN typically have polygamous and peripatetic propensities. They are constantly upgrading and moving on. They coast through the whole gamut of toys for boys: Cars, phones, laptops, et al, and yes even newer mates with enviable facility. It was, after all, successful older men, trading in graying spouses for younger ones, who gave currency to the term, “Trophy Wives”.

Women, on the other hand, honourable exceptions notwithstanding, tend to have steadfastly monogamous affinities.

As with husbands, so it is with cellphones. Women find it difficult to upgrade, let alone move on. And it has nothing to do with being techno-savvy. Women surprisingly are very technology-friendly. And I’m not talking about the Carly Fiorina’s but your average Anne.

Women are, today, using more technology than their male counterparts. Take the everyday kitchen, dish washers, ovens, microwaves, food-processors, washing machines and refrigerators — they all add up to quite an overload of techno-logic. Also newer phones really do incorporate increasingly user-friendly technology. So upgrading actually means progressing, metaphorically that is, from stone-age dinosaurs to sleek new age design and comfort.

But women being women will typically think with their hearts rather than with their heads. Don’t be surprised then, if you see a Prada clad female executive or a Dior sporting power-femme clutching a shabby phone — it’s a manifestation of the “Monogamy Syndrome among Women” or MSaW. It should, I believe, pose a tremendous marketing challenge for the cellphone companies.

Of late some successful, single, older women, have shown marginal movement up the emotional evolution chain. No, they aren’t trading in old faithfuls. They are just trying to get a life, after being left behind. They are the ones who have found themselves “toyboys”.

But then not everyone is a Liz Taylor, Gina Lollobrigida, Demi Moore or even a Zeenat Aman, happily sporting a much younger male partner as arm candy. And having found a partner, they then tend to be embarrassingly monogamous. It probably has to do with wrinkles and grey hair looking better on a man than on a woman or then again just plain MSaW.

Would my mother trade in her graying better half for a younger model? Never! Her whole MSaW DNA should revolt at the very idea. So also with her cell phone. It suffers from battery problems, is chipped and worn around the edges and the touch-screen wont respond to touch. But she’s loathe to part with it.

And then my father who values efficiency over mushy sentimentality, bounced off an idea, “How about a little “toyboy” on the side, he suggested helpfully, eyes twinkling with merriment and challenge?”

Suddenly, Mommy seemed to look at her well-worn cellphone in a new light, and clearly the idea of having a reliable back-up on the side was appealing. “Why not!” she twinkled right back, as we watched slack-jawed.

Whoops! Is the Indian woman evolving or what, I ponder ? There’s hope then, that in time, they will get over their MSaW too. But the Punjabi males had better watch out. Women upgrading might spell boom-time for cellphone companies but doom time for MCP’s i.e. 90 per cent of the Punjabi male population.