The Passing of a Titan

An Unfinished Agenda: My Life in the Pharmaceutical Industry, by K.Anji Reddy, Portfolio, Penguin India, 2015, pp 270, Rs 699.

Larger than life panegyric canvases are normally painted of captains of industry. It is rare to come across a modest account of a self-made man told modestly by himself, especially if he is an Indian magnate. But the late Dr. Anji Reddy, the founder of the pharma giant, Dr. Reddy Labs, was no ordinary Indian. Not only did he create one of India’s most successful concerns, but he never lost sight of the main purpose of his entry into the pharmaceutical business, which was to provide affordable medicines to humanity.

At the end of a long meteoric rise to fame and fortune, he himself fell victim to the monarch of maladies, liver cancer. With superhuman determination he held on to life, at least a year beyond the most optimistic expectation of his doctors, to dictate his story from his sickbed, to Raghu Cidambi, a trusted friend and former colleague.

Anji Reddy was born the son of a turmeric farmer in the Krishna district of Andhra Pradesh. A good teacher developed a love of science which soon led him to join the University Department of Chemical Technology in Bombay, which to all accounts was an excellent teaching institution. From there he went on to join IDPL in Hyderabad as a junior scientist. The event that changed him from an ordinary government servant to a bold entrepreneur was Neil Armstrong’s landing on the moon in 1969. Fired by that daring exploit, he launched his career. Years later his company’s annual report would carry a statement about his vision:

Twenty one years ago when I entered the pharmaceutical industry as a technocrat-entrepreneur, I nursed a dream. I observed that the drugs launched in the developed West were prohibitively expensive.... So I wrote out the mission of my life: to bring new molecules into the country at a price the common man could afford.

Forming a small company, Uniloids, he was successful in making metronidazole to world standards from basic raw materials in India. Several leading companies bought this active pharmaceutical ingredient from him for their own well-known formulations like Flagyl or Metrogyl, to combat endemic diseases like amoebiasis. The next step up the ladder was the Indian manufacture of sulphamethoxazole at an unbeatable price. Reddy relates a lovely story how he demanded entry into the office of his best customer, Burroughs Wellcome, when he was still an unknown man! Real success was to come when he launched Dr. Reddy Labs and made norfloxacin, a powerful antibiotic first developed by Japanese scientists. Tablets using it sold at Rs 80 for a strip of ten in India, which he thought was too expensive for the common man. He went against advice and marketed the drug at Rs 38 per strip. Though competitors tried to sow doubts about his products, doctors accepted it wholeheartedly, and he was famous.

Anecdotes brighten the pages. Every meeting with a famous chemist or industrialist remained fresh in his memory and he recorded them in detail from his sickbed. Dr Karanth, Yusuf Hamid of Cipla, Lord ‘Almighty’ Todd, Sir James Black, Sir Walter Bodmer, all are remembered with affectionate respect as men who helped or influenced him.  With almost childlike fascination, he remembered the posh cars they sent to fetch him, the high-life of the West, and the razzmatazz connected with raising funding. This is how he recorded the moment when Dr Reddy’s was listed on the New York Stock Exchange:

            A minute before opening time, Grasso led us on to the floor of the exchange. And suddenly it hit us – the open outcry, the sense of frenzy. This was the pulse of capitalism.

Reddy was never an ordinary businessman. He set up a joint venture in South Africa with the J&J Group, set up by Jay and Jayendra Naidoo. Jay had been a trade unionist, and a close colleague of Nelson Mandela. Reddy remembered him with simple affection: No man who walked the long road out of prison with Mandela could be anything but extraordinary. Reddy joined him in the Global Alliance for Improved Nutrition. Reddy touchingly hoped in his last hours that his subsidiary in South Africa would ‘serve the needs of the South African people as its first chairman, Jay Naidoo, would have wished.’

Another revealing moment in the book describes the time in Russia when the rouble fell dramatically against the dollar in 1998, and Reddy’s staff advised him to pull out of there before his unit lost more value. He decided to remain in Russia not only because it was a huge country with great resources and able to recover in time, but India had depended on Russia for many decades. Russia had provided technology and training to IDPL from before he had joined it.  He adds: No other developed nation had done so much for India.

The story of his acquisition of betapharm, Germany’s fourth largest generic drugs company, is interlaced with affectionate memories of meeting Anita Bose Pfaff, Netaji’s daughter, in Ausburg. Indeed part of the charm of the book lies in such anecdotes, recalled to a mind that remained sharp till the end, despite the pain of disease in his body. The book is filled with accurate facts about prices, technologies, meetings, moods, and in between inconsequential human stories that make the book so enjoyable for the ordinary reader. Few historians of science, let alone businessmen, might know the details of the origin of the Merck group back in 1668 as well as Anji Reddy did, or the astonishing fact that the grandmother of its present chairman translated Tagore’s play Chitra into German and published it even before he was awarded the Nobel Prize! Above all, Reddy honoured George W. Merck’s philosophy that medicines were for people and not for profits, and mailed that message to all his employees in 2006.

Anji Reddy was not satisfied with making affordable bulk drugs. He wished to invent new medicines, and came within an ace of doing so with his anti-diabetes balaglitazone, but unfortunately the vagaries of business thwarted him that time. With his personal money he formed a research company Kareus Therapeutics in 2009 with a few scientific like-minded enthusiasts. The large final chapter deals with his social commitment to society, his support of the Naandi Foundation, and his support for mid-day meals for schools, coffee growing by tribals in the Araku valley, training of youth for livelihoods and many similar activities.

One has to look back long in time to find another titan of his calibre, who rising from modest circumstances created an industrial giant, but never forgot that success needs to give back to the ordinary people from whom he was sprung. If America can point to Andrew Carnegie, India can to Anji Reddy.

An Aarti for Cotton …

A number of British families served with distinction in India, but none were more renowned than those with the name of Cotton. Several generations of Indians have been educated in schools set up by Bishop Cotton. Sir Henry Cotton fought hard for Indian independence. And it is General Sir Arthur Cotton who is still remembered with grateful affection by the people of the Godavari basin, where his birthday is still celebrated every year. It is appropriate to remember this great engineer during the Maha Pushkaram of the river this year.

As a boy of 15, Arthur Cotton enrolled as a cadet in the East India Company’s military school in Surrey, England. Three years later he joined the Madras Engineering Group as an assistant of the Chief Engineer. By the time he was 25, as luck would have it, he was put in charge of repairs to be conducted on the thousand-year old Chola grand anicut near Tanjavur. He studied the old structure and revised all the engineering knowledge he had learned in England. He called that experience the ‘cheapest school of engineering in the world.’

   He was 40 when he was posted to the distant Godavari District as a Superintending Engineer. A devout Christian, he was moved by the starvation of poor people. He determined, using the ancient Chola anicut as a model, that he would build a 7325-foot anicut across the great Godavari and irrigate a million acres. It would turn the poor region into the richest in Madras Presidency! The East India Company considered the project too ambitious and too expensive. Cotton insisted he could build the anicut at a fraction of British estimates. Finally, in 1845, his detailed report was grudgingly accepted, though none of his seniors believed that the anicut could be built for a paltry 120,000 pounds sterling.

   Lady Hope, his daughter, recounted later the hardships the Cotton family faced in camp while the dam was being constructed between 1847 and 1852. There were no luxuries, few necessities, and many dangers. Once a snake fell into the cradle of her baby sister! Then, before the project was completed, unprecedented floods washed over the incomplete structure and Cotton’s assistants feared all was lost. Cotton who was then seriously ill in bed was informed of the catastrophe. All he said was: ‘Let us leave it to God.’ When the waters receded, all were astonished to see that the structure was undamaged. Cotton and his family fell on their knees on the banks of the river and gave thanks to God. The Dhawaleswaram anicut converted  into the rice bowl of south India the rich lands between the Gouthami and Vasista branches of the Godavari.

   When a great famine occurred in South India in 1876-77, killing millions, the British Parliament debated measures to mitigate the dangers of such calamities. Some parliamentarians raised references to Cotton’s works in the Cauvery and Godavari deltas. Detailing in several pages all the statistics he could gather, Cotton argued vehemently for extension of irrigation schemes in India. He proved that the real cost of irrigation was only two pounds an acre while the value of produce from irrigation was three pounds an acre. The British had spent 160 million pounds on railways in India, which strengthened their military control. Cotton pleaded that a quarter of that sum would have provided food security for Indians.  ‘Could there be a more grievous proof of our strange want of wisdom in management of the country…’ he cried. He concluded his plea to the Secretary of State for India with the trenchant statement: ‘My Lord, one day’s flow in the Godavari river during high floods is equal to one whole year’s flow in the Thames at London.’ He was not listened to, but they made him a General and gave him a knighthood.

   During 1970, the Godavari anicut was damaged after surviving for more than a hundred years, and a barrage was constructed in its place in 1982 to stabilize the ayacut under the Godavari River. The new Sir Arthur Cotton Barrage cost Rs.26 crores 60 lakhs to build. The length of the four arms of the barrage is 3.60 km. It is now irrigating around 4.10 lakh hectares in East and West Godavari Districts.

Later many attempts were made to follow in Cotton’s footsteps and further enrich the region. The Polavaram project which is causing so much dissension among interested politicians today was first penciled in by Sonti Ramamurthi, ICS, Chief Secretary of Madras Presidency in the early 1940s. His feasibility report on the construction of a dam across the Godavari near Bhadrachalam was shelved after independence and the breaking up of the presidency into several states. Cotton himself had argued for the linking of river waters to provide food security. In 1972, Dr K.L.Rao, another famous engineer, designed a 2640-km long Ganga-Cauvery link which envisaged the withdrawal of 1680 cumec of the flood flows of the Ganga near Patna for about 150 days in a year, and pumping about 1400 cumec of this water over a head of 549 metres for transfer to the peninsular region, while utilizing the remaining 280 cumec  in the Ganga basin itself. However, the capital cost of the Ganga-Cauvery link was considered too high.

Development of the resources of the great Godavari river continues to cause intense power struggles among politicians of neighbouring states, who unfortunately have not shown the same commitment to the interests of the poor as did Arthur Cotton. All the statues of British imperial rulers have been removed from their pedestals in independent India. General Sir Arthur Cotton has the unique distinction of having a statute raised in his honour by the grateful people of independent India. It stands on Tank Bund facing Hussain Sagar lake in Hyderabad.

The Modi Opportunity

The Indian Prime Minister is considered a strong man, even by his opponents. And it is only strong men who can deliver unpalatable solutions to their followers. More than fifty years ago the Algerian issue seemed intractable, and was pulling France down into a ruinous civil war. General Charles de Gaulle, who relieved Paris from the Nazis at the end of World War II, and the undoubted champion of French national pride, quickly negotiated Algerian independence as no other French leader could have at that time. Narender Modi, who has the unquestioned support of the Hindutva rightwing, retains a chance of solving the many problems that have bedevilled relationships over the last fifty years with India’s greatest neighbour. At least, that is what Xi Jinping, the Chinese President, might be expecting, and he has laid out an appropriate lavish welcome for his Indian guest.

India’s media and her equally vocal nationalists have taken little trouble to understand the Chinese or their policies. Their thinking remains mired in the Nehruvian myth that India is the untainted leader of the Third World, and any political opposition from another country is an ungrateful dastardly act. Their middle class naivety is matched only by that of the American populace which continues to believe that their government’s imperial depredations are nothing more than a kindly attempt to bring democracy to others!

Xi Jinping stands at the pinnacle of Chinese power. He is President of China, the general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party, the head of the seven-man Standing Committee of its Politburo, and the Chairman of that country’s Central Military Commission. No one else in China has held so much power in his hands, other than Mao Zedong. Mao’s masterly mobilization of his country’s suppressed masses was converted into economic revival by Deng Xiaoping. Jiang Zemin, his successor, produced an astonishing bull run that brought China within striking distance of becoming the world’s leading economy. Social cracks that opened up were patched to some extent by the Hu-Wen duo who shared power after Jiang, bringing a human face to Chinese state capitalism.

The Xi government capitalises on all these economic thrusts and social corrections. Its goal is certainly to be the most dominant country in the world, and it has a much surer strategy than its rival America, which is desperately trying to retain its imperial power through vast military adventures, first in South-east Asia and now in the Middle East, despite the ruinous costs involved. China has taken advantage of America’s slipping position. Its great trade surpluses have weakened the dollar and enabled China to make unstoppable business thrusts into Africa and South America. This position has been reached by the concerted sacrifices of the Chinese working class. Relief can only be achieved by further expansion of markets for Chinese products. The very next step, which China will take when the moment is ready, is capital acquisition and economic control in the United States itself! The one country which still calls itself communist seeks domination through scrupulously followed capitalist methods!

The team that Xi heads has been chosen for this purpose. It has a sophisticated understanding of the West. His running mate, Li Keqiang, the Premier in charge of the State Council, and hence of government, is also his number two in the Politburo. Li holds a doctorate in economics and a degree in law, but during the Cultural Revolution received the honour of being tagged an outstanding person in the study of Mao Zedong Thought! The western-educated and sophisticated Wang Yi, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, is socially well-connected, his father-in-law having been secretary to Zhou Enlai. Yang Jiechi, state councillor in charge of foreign affairs, helps shape policy for China. He was one of the few Chinese students of his day at the London School of Economics, who went on to be ambassador in Washington, and came to be accepted by both Bush presidents as an intellectual of the realist  ‘Kissinger’ school. Xi’s wife and China’s first lady is Peng Liyuan, China’s well-loved singing star, who is also a WHO goodwill ambassador and a declared Buddhist, while remaining ‘an honorary general of the army!’

What Chinese expectations are of India has already been clearly spelt out by Xi during his Indian visit, though Indian media missed its importance. If China will be the world’s factory, India will be its back office. It is a reasonable prognostication considering that the backbone of India’s modernization was composed of its vast cadre of babus and accountants who managed India during its imperial times, and later as well, and the present-day follow through in the service sector by its IT professionals. China expects India to play an unassuming role as second fiddle in Asia.

China’s economic trajectory precludes any kind of military adventure. Even in the 1962 border war, China quickly and wisely gave up occupied territory, just as India did in its wars with Pakistan.  Even the United States operates its imperial ambitions through so-called local ‘rebels,’ shying away from putting its own ‘boots on the ground.’ Neville Maxwell, a rare unprejudiced historian, detailed the cause of the 1962 war as arising out of Nehru misunderstanding the Chinese position. A romantic aristocrat, Nehru saw himself as shepherding China into the international comity of nations and refused to discuss the MacMahon line with the Chinese. He was also perhaps unaware that the CIA was using Indian bases to send trained ‘freedom fighters’ into Tibet. In addition, the Chinese took as a hostile act the sanctuary given by Nehru to the Dalai Lama and his government in exile.

Today more than ever, what China seeks from India is not territory but a quiescent and peaceful long border. China seeks renewed assurance that India will not join an anti-China camp, or use its territories for activities aimed against China. The bellicosity of Indian nationalists is taken seriously, and their importance exaggerated in Chinese eyes more than it is warranted. China has continued to play the Pakistan card, partly to show how advantageous it could be for India to be friendly. In their signalling the Chinese remain ambiguously oriental. The case of the map of India as projected in China is no more than a ploy to show how things could deteriorate if wisdom does not prevail among neighbours. China pursues closer economic ties with India, and there is no doubt that the promised investment of $20 billion in India will be awarded to Modi. India’s MEA will stick to the border dispute just as Pakistan’s military brings up the Kashmir question when trade talks resume. India hopes improving trade relations will make Kashmir less and less significant for Pakistan, though the very existence of the Pakistani military elite is linked to keeping the problem alive. Indian leadership is under no such pressure, and Modi can seize the opportunity to open economic doors between the two countries, leaving the border issue over barren lands as an unimportant legacy of history. China has already tacitly accepted that there is no question of exchanging lands where there are settled populations. Turning the LAC into the international border will happen, but it will take time.

All this is not to say that there is no real threat if push comes to shove, as it did in 1962. Nehru’s mistakes stand as a warning how foreign policies can go badly wrong. Under Xi’s velvet glove is the iron hand of Guo Shengkun, minister in charge of public security, and Geng Huichang, who heads their secret service. Senior hardliners, Generals Fan Changlong and Xu Qiliang, control the army as vice-chairmen of the central military commission. Wisdom lies in Modi grasping the extended economic olive branch, shelving the border question for now, and restraining jingoistic supporters and NRIs from voicing America-initiated anti-China slogans. Some may be irked by India refusing to challenge Chinese leadership today, but as many athletes know the person who runs behind the shoulder of the leader has a better chance in the long run than he who is openly out in front!

Posted PRIMEPOST.IN MAY 15 2015

The Fog of Empire

• Surprising win for Cameron with greater mandate
• Right-wing ideology dominates discourse in Britain

By Vithal Rajan

The British election results have been a surprise to everyone, especially to David Cameron, the Prime Minister. He was quite prepared to put a brave face on it if he lost, but was hoping against hope that he might be given a second chance in another minority government, his Conservative party shored up by unflinching support from even more diehard Tories, the Ulster Protestant factions in Northern Ireland, and his new friends the Liberal Democrats.

Dr Vithal Rajan

Having secured an unexpected clear majority on his own, Cameron made an extravagant victory speech in front of No: 10 Downing Street, in which he promised everything to everyone. But within the next few days it became crystal clear that his gushing thanks were not to be taken seriously, and that the long dreaded vicious cuts of around 12 billion pounds sterling in social spending would take place. The National Health Scheme, the brightest jewel in the quiet social revolution ushered in by Atlee after the Second World War, would be seriously jeopardised, and poverty-stricken Britishers will be left in the lurch. Cameron’s support for industry would go for big business and not to help the million and a half or so small struggling entrepreneurs in Britain.

The Establishment in Britain, like that in any other country, is fixed upon securing its own interests first. If certain policies have benefitted it, these are projected as the science of economics, by which more of the same will/might deliver some benefit to other sectors and classes of people according to their merit. The Tories will pursue Reagan-Thatcherite policies, that ushered in new mass poverty in late 20^th century Britain, with the same committed fervour with which their ancestors sent more millions to die in the trenches of World War One. The clue came in the first few minutes of Cameron’s victory speech when he said firmly that he would find employment for all ‘who wished to work.’ Clearly the British Prime Minister believes that the unemployed are voluntarily scrounging on welfare payments, and not that they are out of work because of anti-social economic policy.

In that very first speech he made another loaded comment which presaged a continued twilight over future British fortunes. He harked back to Britain’s glorious past, which journalist-historians of Niall Ferguson’s ilk have been busy whitewashing as the best thing that happened to a benighted colonised world. Such bluster has befuddled thinking in those isles more than their famous fog, and sedulously foreclosed any option of seeing a future as a European country in a prosperous Europe. British leaders have let go of every chance offered to them since the formation of the European Economic Commission in the mid 1950s. Consolidation of Tory power in effect consolidates the belief that Britain continues to have ‘imperial’ obligations. Britain’s social and economic costs are amplified by the self-destructive ‘special relationship’ with the United States of America, which itself is spiralling down with imperialist adventures. The new Tory vote has only strengthened even more the influence of a recalcitrant backbench, immured in the fog of imperialist nostalgia. Cameron will be as ineffective as any of his predecessors in taking Britain into an economically resurgent Europe. Soon, with increasing poverty at home, and with the lessons of Greece and Portugal staring him in the face, the best he can hope for is to potter along as an all but failed state.

All of this has happened with the tacit connivance of all English political parties, all of whom more or less projected shades of right-wing ideology. Tony Blair had converted the Labour Party more than a decade ago to a paler version of itself, even the colour changing from red to pink. Ed Milliband, who led the party at this election, had promised the unions that he was not a Blairite, and had undercut the leadership of his brother David, who was. But few of his policies could be clearly differentiated from those of the Tories. The electorate were not to be misled by prevarications. Labour lost heavily, even Ed Balls, the shadow chancellor, losing in his assured constituency. The Liberal Democrats who had gathered voter support by posing as people with ‘a Tory head and a Labour heart’ were completely trounced, and left with no future.

During Cameron’s dark days he had held a referendum in Scotland, and around 60% of the Scots had voted to stay with the United Kingdom, though most of the youth had wanted independence. In this election, the Scottish National Party won a sweeping victory, securing 56 out of 59 seats in Scotland. They want autonomy, no cuts in social spending and more of a share from North Sea oil, and now they have the power to insist. Cameron has promised devolution, but he has also promised big cuts in social spending to the Tories and big business. If he placates the Scots, his backbenchers will accuse him of being unfair to the English. Cameron can buy some time, but little else.

Straws in the wind about the new public mood are the election victories posted by even the Plaid Cymru, the Welsh national party. Its victory at the hustings is in keeping with public mood there. All road and other public signs are now given long Welsh names, and people will first talk to you in Welsh. The people at least are not lost in nostalgia about an imagined imperial past. They want a new future for themselves. Their leaders unfortunately remain enveloped in the fog of empire.

We’re Moving Off to the Nilgiris

‘Once a Hyderabadi, always a Hyderabadi’, they used to say. No question, it was the favoured metro city in India, with its ‘ganga-jamuna’ culture. But times are a-changing, with urban sprawl, cancerous growth of pollution and garbage,  noise, dust and irritability all round. When little Azad arrived, we started a determined search for a haven – but where? We first thought of Quebec’s eastern townships, of New Zealand’s south island, and Ireland’s west coast. Then a serendipitous thought struck us – why go far when the Nilgiris are just an hour’s flight from Hyderabad? Everyone of us has a special fondness for these hills. The oldest is reminded of his happy Central-Indian childhood in the midst of jungles and tribals. The North-Indian son-in-law has loved Nilgiri wilderness ever since a school trek in the stunning Upper Bhavani region. The daughter is a mountain person, happiest on a hill, sitting under an ancient tree, looking out at vast green vistas. Her Telangana mother, who resisted leaving Hyderabad, is drawn to the healthful tranquility of the Nilgiris.

A serious start was made among the beautiful undulating blue hills just east of the Western Ghats and its ‘Silent Valley’ rain forest. Our first base was the 3000 acre Craigmore tea estate. In present times when much is written about the woes of tea plantation workers this estate is a model of thoughtful care of workers and their families. Craigmore is also a haven for wild life, ranging from elephant herds to inquisitive bison coming up to the guesthouse, and if you are lucky you may even see a tiger! Later, we set out on our search from the hoary Ootacamund Club, with its parquet flooring, wood-panelled walls, strict dress codes, and photos of bygone days. English lords and ladies glared down on us seated on horses of the famed Ooty Hunt. Though foxes and jackals are no longer chivvied about, capable lady riders are still honoured as Queens of the Hunt!

We discovered an engaging history of these mysterious hills written long ago by Frederick Price. The Nilgiris were unknown to the kingdoms of south India. Only the reclusive Todas and a few other scattered tribes made their home there. News about this hidden mountain was dismissed by the people of the plains as myth. The only one who took it seriously was John Sullivan, Collector at Coimbatore in the early part of the 19^th century. His discovery of the Nilgiris led other English officials to trek up on foot and horseback, away from the sweltering heat of the plains, to this paradise that was even better than their fabled Lake District. Ooty was founded at a higher elevation than Simla and became the summer capital of the government of Madras. The 100-year old toy-like Nilgiri Mountain Railway still collects passengers from Madras, and takes them meandering up the hills, through Coonoor, at the heart of the tea estate country, and past Ketti in a long beautiful valley, to its terminus at Ooty.

Maharajahs built their palaces in these heights, and manicured tea estates grew all round. Its famous garden was laid out by William McIvor in 1848 to a plan prepared by no less than the Marquess of Tweedale. Every year its flower shows bring tens of thousands to Ooty clogging the roads for hours. Several schools were established in the salubrious area, the best known being Lawrence School, named after Sir Henry Lawrence; Breeks after the first commissioner of the Nilgiris; and Stanes, after Sir Robert Stanes, the coffee planter.  The Lawley Institute boasted of ‘Assembly Rooms,’ like those in Bath of Regency England. The oldest in our family still remembers the magic of sixty years ago when he and a girl took a pine-scented evening stroll to see a 1930’s classic film there!

Post Independence, Ooty and the Nilgiris have suffered much the same fate as many other beauty spots of India. Land grabbing coupled with unscrupulous political conniving led to much destruction of the original shola forests. Fortunately, good sense has now set in and strict environmental regulations are in place. The same cannot be said about urban planning. Unplanned growth of ugly structures has been thoughtlessly permitted. The tourists who come up every weekend, from Coimbatore to the east or Kochi to the west, do not see the Ooty of their parents but a clustered township. However, some of the past beauty may still be recovered. Switzerland, which was a poverty-stricken environmental disaster in the early part of the 19^th century, has reinvented itself as a tourist paradise through strict planning and community action. Strong citizens’ groups now exist in the Nilgiris and we shall play our part.

We had almost given up all hope of finding a haven in the Nilgiris when by a fortunate stroke of luck we happened upon just the spot near Ketti. The sunrises and sunsets were magnificent with the valley shelving away to the woods around the old St George’s School and rising on the other side towards the majestic Doddapetta peak. The place is conveniently within twenty minutes drive from Ooty or Coonoor, or the Wellington Gymkhana’s picturesque golf course. The pace of life in the Nilgiris is unhurried, calming to the city dweller. The people you meet are courteous and friendly, and we are reminded how enjoyable real community life can be. The historian in you comes to life as every old bungalow has a charming story to tell, and if you are not yet a photographer, you will soon be, for a walk down any road is like a stroll in a park. And we are learning to appreciate the varied fragrances of all the different kinds of tea there are, and how exciting it is to make your own cheese. Here, the fruits and vegetables unpolluted with chemicals bring back a taste we had forgotten.

To keep us cheerful company, we are building a boutique guesthouse for travellers looking for peace, beauty, and gracious living. We have light-heartedly named it The Clive & Curzon, in acknowledgment of the British strand in our colourful history, which above all helped us rediscover the enchanting Nilgiris.