Yasmin Alibhai-Brown: The snobbery and intellectual passion that is India

The poor, meanwhile, have been swept out of the capital - I only saw a handful of beggars

Share

I was in Delhi last week, for the Kitab book festival, an idiosyncratic event organised by an outrageous young man, beautiful, dangerous and captivating. I didn't know this when the invitation arrived by e-mail. As we corresponded, Pablo Ganguli, the festival director, came across as middle-aged, serious, at times worn out with the trouble of it all.

Writers, as all book event organisers know, are a trying lot. I imagined he was a 50-year-old academic or a rarely published but tremblingly committed novelist who wanted to bring together British and Indian writers to share words and worlds. Since the beginning of March, when my mother died, I had been feeling vulnerable and melancholic. A jamboree in the heat and dust of Delhi was either going to make me feel even more lost or would give me heart.

I hadn't checked the air tickets. The travel was sponsored by Etihad, a new airline of the Emirates with spanking new aircraft and courteous hostesses. One of the airline bossmen gets The Independent and loves reading books, so he happily upgraded most delegates, but even in plush lounges hours with travelling companions is like being in Big Brother. You find out their secrets; they witness you dribbling slumped in velvet chairs.

Pablo, in fact only 22, is like Ariel in The Tempest, a creature who moves imperceptibly between boundaries, appears and disappears, magicks, sulks and shimmies, infuriates and intoxicates. The shape-shifter wears sequinned gowns and knitted hats, holds you with his green-lensed eyes. When a young teenager in Calcutta, he fell in love with one of our very own ambassadors. They ended up in Papua New Guinea, Pablo now the first ever gay British ambassadorial consort.

That was then. Now Pablo resides happily in Marrakech, where last year he whimsically decided to arrange a gathering of writers from the UK. He managed to get funds and the people he wanted, even though he was largely unknown in literary circles in the UK. Those who attended say they will never forget the starry nights out there with Sufi poets speaking beauteously to enchant.

Delhi was a harder challenge, and somewhat more chaotic, but Pablo pulled it off again, with chutzpah. Intense self-reflection mixed with glamour; talent with narcissism. There was William Dalrymple, the unrivalled descriptive writer, reading from his new book on the last Moguls, looking and sounding like a pasha - his girth is now as expansive as his ego. His fine words moved most of the audience, though some Indian detractors later muttered complaints about these "new imperialists who come now to steal our own tales".

Young male Asian writers from both countries, deep beyond their years, debated the world, Iraq and the heady century they inhabit, and struggle to comprehend. Clare Short spoke more directly and incisively than I have ever heard her, and then there was Goldie Hawn (yes, really), bubbling and laughing on stage in front of a smallish audience which was too learned to be awestruck by her tales of Hollywood. Apparently Short and Hawn became best friends at a grand dinner.

But then this is India, land of the finest snobs money can buy. At another rich party, six of us, including Pablo, journalists and a publisher, were ejected by rough minders, only to be asked back in by the host, some kind of heritage Prince. One dazzling woman was wearing what looked like a jewelled sleeve on one arm. I touched it and asked if it was silver. "No," she snapped contemptuously: "White gold, actually, and real diamonds." Dear oh dear.

At another party for Delhi fashion week, in a faux Mediterranean restaurant, lovely elfins high on cocaine and/or cocktails were flitting and falling over as seedy men watched and touched their helpless flesh. Oh, these parts of India shine all right, lit up by millions of willing acolytes of globalised mass culture. They have no sense of history, no core identity.

The poor, meanwhile, have been swept out of the capital - I only saw a handful of beggars - their shanties bulldozed in much the way Mugabe has ordered in Zimbabwe. Only two years ago, Delhi seemed to be a place of more mix, complexity and pity than it was this time.

I went with an activist friend and his wife to sit with patient protesters, displaced by vast multinational dam-building projects, victims whose voices are ignored by the powerful. Crammed under a single sheet of sacking to keep out the burning sun, their eyes were bright. Dozens of blue butterflies suddenly arrived to sit on sweaty heads and discoloured turbans, a moment of surreal beauty. This is where Arundhati Roy comes everyday, and others like her.

What is heartening is that unlike the UK, the intellectual classes and the newspapers have not rushed to embrace brash new India. They have watched the descent into consumer psychosis in the UK and US, the environmental and emotional devastation that results from a life of too much. They detest and resist the surrender of Indian politics to US manipulations.

Listening to such intelligent Indian sceptics at the festival gave many of us hope that the projected greatness of New India may come from her ability to provide an alternative to the inevitable, the end of history as the globalisers see it. And yes, I came back full of spirit once again.

y.alibhai-brown@independent.co.uk

React Now

Latest stories from i100
Have you tried new the Independent Digital Edition apps?
iJobs Job Widget
iJobs General

Technical Software Consultant (Excel, VBA, SQL, JAVA, Oracle)

£40000 - £50000 per annum: Harrington Starr: You will not be expected to hav...

Technical Sales Manager

£45000 - £53000 Per Annum plus bonus plus package: The Green Recruitment Compa...

Humanities Teacher

£110 - £135 per day + Competitive Rates: Randstad Education Maidstone: Outstan...

SQL DBA/Developer

£500 per day: Harrington Starr: SQL DBA/Developer SQL, C#, VBA, Data Warehousi...

Day In a Page

Read Next
 

A day to remember a different kind of conflict – ours with the natural world

Michael McCarthy
Perfect flat mates  

Flatsharing with strangers as an adult is doomed - with or without a 'contract'

Jessica Brown Jessica Brown
Alexander Fury: The designer names to look for at fashion week this season

The big names to look for this fashion week

This week, designers begin to show their spring 2015 collections in New York
Will Self: 'I like Orwell's writing as much as the next talented mediocrity'

'I like Orwell's writing as much as the next talented mediocrity'

Will Self takes aim at Orwell's rules for writing plain English
Meet Afghanistan's middle-class paint-ballers

Meet Afghanistan's middle-class paint-ballers

Toy guns proving a popular diversion in a country flooded with the real thing
Al Pacino wows Venice

Al Pacino wows Venice

Ham among the brilliance as actor premieres two films at festival
Neil Lawson Baker interview: ‘I’ve gained so much from art. It’s only right to give something back’.

Neil Lawson Baker interview

‘I’ve gained so much from art. It’s only right to give something back’.
The other Mugabe who is lining up for the Zimbabwean presidency

The other Mugabe who is lining up for the Zimbabwean presidency

Wife of President Robert Mugabe appears to have her sights set on succeeding her husband
The model of a gadget launch: Cultivate an atmosphere of mystery and excitement to sell stuff people didn't realise they needed

The model for a gadget launch

Cultivate an atmosphere of mystery and excitement to sell stuff people didn't realise they needed
Alice Roberts: She's done pretty well, for a boffin without a beard

She's done pretty well, for a boffin without a beard

Alice Roberts talks about her new book on evolution - and why her early TV work drew flak from (mostly male) colleagues
Get well soon, Joan Rivers - an inspiration, whether she likes it or not

Get well soon, Joan Rivers

She is awful. But she's also wonderful, not in spite of but because of the fact she's forever saying appalling things, argues Ellen E Jones
Doctor Who Into the Dalek review: A classic sci-fi adventure with all the spectacle of a blockbuster

A fresh take on an old foe

Doctor Who Into the Dalek more than compensated for last week's nonsensical offering
Fashion walks away from the celebrity runway show

Fashion walks away from the celebrity runway show

As the collections start, fashion editor Alexander Fury finds video and the internet are proving more attractive
Meet the stars of TV's Wolf Hall... and it's not the cast of the Tudor trilogy

Meet the stars of TV's Wolf Hall...

... and it's not the cast of the Tudor trilogy
Weekend at the Asylum: Europe's biggest steampunk convention heads to Lincoln

Europe's biggest steampunk convention

Jake Wallis Simons discovers how Victorian ray guns and the martial art of biscuit dunking are precisely what the 21st century needs
Don't swallow the tripe – a user's guide to weasel words

Don't swallow the tripe – a user's guide to weasel words

Lying is dangerous and unnecessary. A new book explains the strategies needed to avoid it. John Rentoul on the art of 'uncommunication'
Daddy, who was Richard Attenborough? Was the beloved thespian the last of the cross-generation stars?

Daddy, who was Richard Attenborough?

The atomisation of culture means that few of those we regard as stars are universally loved any more, says DJ Taylor