Enjoying an entertaining half-hour with the world’s most extraordinary newspaper, the Times of India.
If there’s one thing Indian English resembles, it’s 1930s Britain: prissy butlers, nervous vicars, and endless attention to social rituals while taking tea on the lawn. Educated Indians, heirs to a 5000-yr old culture, are more English than my grandfather. (On my MBA course: the Indian participants sometimes ask me to edit a letter, and I’m transported into a bygone age.)
Murders are ‘unseemly’. Horrific accidents involving hundreds of people are ‘unfortunate’. And ‘Are we being irresponsible making prank calls to emergency services?’ is posed as a serious question. It’s a natural tendency to tolerate bad luck and enjoy complexity that makes India what it is… huge, varied, explosively chaotic, but somehow managing to be a democracy where most people get along, most of the time.
Right, entertainment over. Back to revision…