LOOKING BACK… By Girija Madhavan Piquant or embarrassing moments adhere to the memory like fluff on old woollens. I recall some nuggets from life in the Indian Foreign Service. A battered Rangoon diary for 26 January 1960 read: “RAIN at the Republic Day Garden Party today!” Rangoon in Burma [now Yangon in Myanmar] was our…
By Girija Madhavan Many of us elderly folk are now sequestered at home. The television focuses on COVID-19, with its seemingly sentient malice against humanity, or the tragedy of Afghanistan. Books, music and films are a comfort. But nothing can compare with the companionship of friends. “Visiting” was an enjoyable social activity in old Mysore…
By Girija Madhavan My memories of Maharani’s College, Mysore [now Mysuru], come to life whenever I pass the building where I studied seven decades ago. In the heart of the city, the College is still painted in the classic pale yellow and emerald green of old Mysore buildings. It is surrounded by old rain trees…
By Girija Madhavan Browsing through the internet, a photo from a bygone era caught my eye: Pandit Nehru with Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai, also called Chou Enlai [1898-1976]. His chiselled features and thick, black eyebrows, brought back memories of seeing him long ago, in person in Beijing [known as Peking earlier]. My husband, A. Madhavan…
By Girija Madhavan The tragedy of Uttarakhand shocked India. Photographs and videos showed ferocious, swirling waters, angry gashes where rocks and earth tore away from the hillsides to add their might to the tumultuous, swollen stream on its course of destruction. Years ago, Chamoli in Pauri Garhwal was to me, just a remote mountainous region…
By Girija Madhavan During the Corona lockdown children have been receiving lessons at home online. I recall my own “home schooling” in Mysore seventy-eight years ago; the loneliness I felt then maybe shared now by the children who are kept at home. I joined the Good Shepherd Convent in Mysore in 1943 when I was…
By Girija Madhavan In diplomatic life, bonds of friendship overcome cultural barriers. For diplomats, getting to know the people of the country in which they are posted is a satisfying objective. In the Indian Embassy in Bonn, in the late 1980s, we met and made friends with Germans, appreciated their values and punctiliousness. Gisela Bonn…
By Girija Madhavan Settling into a new home was always a challenge to a Mysurean like myself, though I had lived in several foreign countries over the years. It was no different when I went to Bad Godesberg, Bonn, West Germany, when my husband, A. Madhavan, was posted as Ambassador to FRG (the Federal Republic…
By Girija Madhavan A new diplomatic posting, though eagerly awaited, brings with it some trepidation and qualms. So it was for me when, from Tokyo, Japan, my husband was posted to the Indian Embassy in Bonn in the Federal Republic of Germany in 1988. Though both Japan and Germany, along with Italy, were Axis Powers…
By Girija Madhavan Seeing a rainbow over Chamundi Hill recently, an old Burmese film song, “Dancing on the Rainbow,” came to mind awakening memories of “Burma” [now Myanmar], where I lived from 1959 to1961. My husband, A. Madhavan, was posted to the Indian Embassy in Rangoon. It was my first experience as an Indian Foreign…
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