A Global Sikh!

In the summer of 2003, I was commissioned by BBC Radio to do a couple of stories out of Punjab. After the obligatory interview in Chandigarh with the state's political bosses, a friend suggested I meet a rather resourceful Keenu farmer in Hoshiarpur, who was also writing for The Times of India. My interest was piqued -- a farmer and a journalist.

On a dusty summer afternoon as I drove into the sprawling Keenu farm, I was greeted by this genteel, soft spoken, young man. We introduced ourselves. He said, with a smile, "I am Khushwant... Khushwant Singh." And then quickly added, "No kin of my more famous namesake."

He went to the kitchen and got me a tall cool glass of fruit juice. And then very seriously proceeded to guide me who should I speak to for my story. He was most generous with his contacts, and arranged for me to stay the night in his lovely farmhouse.

That evening I made acquaintance with a different Khushwant. He was more jovial, cracked one bad joke after the other, started slowly with his whiskey and then by the end of a long evening had drunk me under the table. Late that week as I drove back to Delhi, I realised Khushwant was most unlike any farmer I had met, and even more unlike any journalist I had known.

After that first meeting, we often spoke on the phone. We would discuss stories, discuss the relative decline in recent years of the states we came from, Bengal and Punjab. He spoke about Punjab agriculture and Punjab journalism with equal passion and considerable knowledge. We spoke about Subhas Chandra Bose and Bhagat Singh. And for good measure, we discussed at length how exotic Punjabans and Bangalans were. Conversations with Khushwant have always been as varied as the man is.

Over the past four years as he has grown to be one of my better friends, I have met him many times and almost each time I have seen a different side, a new facet of the man. I have seen him upset, even angry about farmer suicides and female foeticides. He fumes about the rising drug consumption in the state and the high unemployment rate. I have seen him covering Jassi, the serial wife from London who duped a dozen odd men into marrying her, and breaking into laughter as he lapsed into Punjabi : "O mainu gaaliya kad rahi si (she was abusing me)".

Then one day he called me from Hoshiarpur and made this grand announcement, "Oye puttarr, I have decided to write a book." He paused, let the news sink in and then added : "A book on Sikhs." Now, I have been a journalist for some years and have heard a few book-writing announcements in my time. In a good year, I myself am overcome, at least a couple of times, to finally pen that masterpiece which I know is churning inside me.

So I didn't take this threat very seriously. Even though, there were a few conversations after that in which he outlined how he planned to travel to different parts of the world and meet members of the Sikh community who had gone on to make a difference to the lives of the people they have lived amongst. As I learnt about the ambitious travel plans, I grew more sceptical about the literary enterprise.

That is, until one day I had this urge to spend a few days in the hills, and called Khushwant seeking his company. "But I am off to UK on Saturday," he said. "I have these interviews lined up for the book," he said over the phone. Suddenly I realised the sardar was serious about the book.

Rest, as they say, is history. I have been privy over animated phone calls and excited face-to-face conversations how interesting Fauja Singh was, and how difficult it was to initially meet Gurinder Chaddha. Over the past year and a half, the man has lived and breathed his book. Last year, I went to Hoshiarpur to watch the World Cup soccer finals together on TV, this year disconsolate over India's early exit from the World Cup I called him up, looking for emtional support. On both occasions, all he wanted to do was discuss his damned book.

And there have been times when I have spotted a mistake or two in one of the chapters he had sent me and I called him up to discuss it. From the other end, an excited voice asked "Dhoom 2 dekhi hai? Both Ash and Bipasha look hot, yaar."

Oh well, that's Khushwant Singh for you. Farmer and journalist. And now a writer. Its still early days to comment on the book, but if it is anything like its author, it should be one heck of a read.