31 August 2007
Luton, Bedfordshire
About a fortnight ago I read H.V.Morton’s “In Search of England”. How I wish I had read this book when I started my travels! But three years ago, I knew very little of this country. The places he describes so vividly would have meant little to me. I might have appreciated the Stonehenge on account of its popularity but I could have identified little with his love for Cornwall or his wet experience along Hadrian’s Wall. I would have expected a warm welcome at Worcester Cathedral without having discovered it myself. Having seen England first-hand, I have come to understand it in my own way without being prejudiced by the opinions of another. My ignorance has not been misplaced. It has only enabled me to search with a greater vigour. I have travelled without expectations. Nonetheless, to read H.V.Morton is to rediscover England in new ways while affirming my own discoveries.
On the contrary, the British Museum was one of the first places I visited. I visited it within the first week of my stay. I saw lots of exhibits gathered from all over the world. If I were to be asked today to name one specific exhibit, I would be left scratching my head. Yes, I remember vaguely the Egyptian mummies, the Elgin Marbles and the Rosetta Stone. I remember nothing that could be proudly called British. When I say British, I mean in the sense of being made or discovered in Britain, something that gives a sense of its history, its people and their culture. Rather naively, I returned from the museum with an impression that the British were good collectors and no more. Like reading H.V.Morton, if I were to visit the museum today, I would certainly have a different view.
What is the impression of Britain for an Indian who has never been to the British Isles? What is his view of this once great colonial power on whose empire that sun never set? What were the sources by which he understood the greatness of Great Britain? Answers to these questions are neither direct nor exact. They can be deduced in the way I have travelled and the manner in which I have searched to find Britain. While geography has separated present day Britain and India, history has joined them together forever. The legacy of the British is stamped indelibly on the political and social fabric of India. Discovering Britain is less about answering the questions above and more about asking further questions – What are the factors that made this small island a colonial power? What is the culture of these people who have achieved great things? What is its political framework that was the role model for a new independent India? What of its art, architecture, music and dance, so different from that of the sub-continent, yet so popular?
It is a general belief that travel that is filled with memorable moments must have been an enjoyable one. Travel that is thus memorable is worth recording and sharing. At a superficial level there is not much to be contested here. Yet there is more to travel than memories. There is more to travel than enjoyment and fun. While fun and enjoyment are essential to what we do, it is more important how we live. Travel ought to be progressive. The traveller ought to be a soul seeker, somewhat an ordinary itinerant philosopher.
These notes are no doubt a record of my travels. But they were never intended as lines meant to capture for posterity the experiences of an ordinary person. Rather the purpose has always been to facilitate greater understanding. To put down in words one’s transient thoughts, feelings and emotions, is to question and understand at a deeper level what may otherwise be only vaguely felt but never experienced. To express is to experience to the full.
Once in a while I read these notes myself. Every read inspires more than it satisfies. The joy of travelling is to be on the move. Discovery is the essence. Thus, these notes took on a different stance. Without loss of its original purpose, the tone changed quite early in its formation. Unfortunately, it is not as readable as H.V.Morton. It has none of his narrative energy or his seamless blend of poetic descriptions and lively conversations in local dialects. As readers, I only request that you pardon me for long ramblings and digressions. I request that you excuse the outdated formality of my writing style for which I might blame Victorian novelists. I believe there is something of worth in these notes, even perhaps only a handful of lines, by which you may profit. Still, it’s only a read. Another’s experiences are no substitute to one’s own. I sincerely hope that you will share my enthusiasm for travel and take to the open road.
