Contrasting experiences

During my term as the chairman of the Coffee Board, I had attended, along with our vice-chairman Haji Ahmed Kutty, a meeting of the International Coffee Association at its headquarters in London.

Kutty was a well-known estate owner and industrialist from Malabar and was very popular among the staff and other Board members.

Kutty, also known as Hajiyar, and I had a gala time on the flight and in London. Though he was an asthma patient with cardiac complications, he used to eat and smoke to his heart's content much against the advice of his doctors. We visited many of the best eateries in London.

After the meetings were completed, we decided to reach Heathrow separately. I saw there a crowd around a person on the floor who was in extreme pain, almost dying. It was Kutty. I identified him and we were taken to the nearest Catholic hospital. He was given the best of treatment but in 20 minutes he passed away. A Catholic nun, who was the head nurse, tried her best to console me thinking Hajiyar was my brother. The treatment was free as it was an emergency and there were no police interference and delays like in India

Normally, it would have taken a fortnight to get the body released to carry back home. But it was Easter holiday time and impossible to expedite the case. We received all support from the British government and The Indian High Commission. The body out in 12 days.

I returned to the Bombay airport and Customs office late at night. Then the anticlimax and the most disappointing experience started. As I mentioned, everything went off without any hitch in London, there was no need for any payment— the staff refused to take some chocolates we offered to show our appreciation. Here in our country the airport staff and the customs officials wanted money to release the body. The son and other relatives of Hajiyar paid the amount. I then along with a couple of Board officials, retired to a nearby hotel.

Later I saw an old, almost condemned ambulance in the middle of the road. I then sent one of our officials and found out that it was the vehicle carrying the body of Hajiyar with nobody in it and the doors wide open. All those who accompanied the body had gone to a nearby restaurant for refreshment.

The abandoned body of Hajiyar lying uncared in the old ambulance at the centre of a lonely road was a chilling and surreal experience that reminds me that death is a great leveller. I realised our much-vaunted tradition of respect for the dead meant nothing in practice. I also thought of the contrast between India and England.