The Cemetery Tourist

Frank Durand surveyed the glistening blue waters in the swimming pool below from his balcony at the Jag Niwas Lake Palace Hotel. The yellow sandstone walls and the marble floor reflected the bright sun making the waters glisten even more. From his Jag Mandir Darshan suite he could also get an excellent view of the eight life-sized elephants carved out of white marble guarding the Palace. The Lake Pichola and the Aravalli mountains provided a splendid backdrop.

Frank Durand surveyed the glistening blue waters in the swimming pool below from his balcony at the Jag Niwas Lake Palace Hotel. The yellow sandstone walls and the marble floor reflected the bright sun making the waters glisten even more. From his Jag Mandir Darshan suite he could also get an excellent view of the eight life-sized elephants carved out of white marble guarding the Palace. The Lake Pichola and the Aravalli mountains provided a splendid backdrop.

“How soothing and tranquil, how picturesque this place is”, he thought, but quickly shook himself out of the reverie. He had not come here all the way, taking precious time off his busy schedule, to admire the serene beauty of the palace. He had come on a much more somber mission. Frank was one of the “cemetery tourists” who was visiting India, in the 150th anniversary of the Ghadar of 1857, to visit their ancestor’s graves. It was both a personal and business visit. He would hopefully clinch an important deal in a joint venture with the Government of Rajasthan and a Jaipur based Indian business tycoon.

Frank had already investigated the whereabouts of his ancestor, Major Charles Durand’s grave. During the revolt of 1857, the “Indian Sepoy Mutiny” as he knew it, several European families fled from Neemuch and used the island as an asylum, offered to them by Maharana Swaroop Singh. He had read, that in order to protect his colonial guests, the Rana destroyed all the town’s boats so that the rebels could not reach the island.

When the idea occurred to him that he should visit his ancestor’s grave, Frank thought this may be just inviting trouble. There may be an adverse reaction from the locals and the media. He didn’t mind if it stopped only with that. The minister from the state government with whom he was negotiating a business deal may find it embarrassing to continue his association with him and may even call off the deal.

He read in the newspapers that when a group of Britons, led by Sir Mark Havelock went to Lucknow to visit the grave of Sir Henry Havelock who died in the siege of the Residency, there were vigorous protests from the public and the visitors had to stay holed up in their hotel. Havelock had to sneak in anonymously to visit his ancestor’s grave.

But Frank found that the situation was different here. The Jag Mandir Palace was not converted into a national monument. It was left in the hands of the Sisodia rulers who converted it into a five star hotel. The Taj Group of Hotels who owned the Palace now couldn’t care less about the historical value of the Palace. It particularly catered to visitors from foreign multinationals, providing them with efficient infrastructure and connectivity, while at the same time giving them a glimpse of the splendor of the Rajput rulers. The new exploiters found the Palace a great place to make deals with ministers and businessmen. They didn’t have to do this surreptitiously like Sir Mark Havelock. The new Indian owner of the hotel didn’t have to break boats to prevent protestors from reaching the palace either.

“How convenient”, thought Frank. “In any case there is no need for me to tell everyone about my mission. Let me quietly visit the grave and get on with the other work”, he decided.

The next day, as Frank placed a bouquet of flowers on the grave of his ancestor Major Charles Durand, he recalled the circumstances that led to the desperate flight of the Briton. The garrison led by Charles consisted of the 72nd Regiment and one wing of the 1st Bengal Cavalry. On the 3rd of June 1857 all hell broke loose. The troops revolted and the officers and their families desperately dashed to Udaipur, 120 km away, to save their lives. But for the Rana of Mewar’s “chivalry” the officers would have met their end. Major Charles died within a few days of reaching Udaipur, not in combat but out of sheer exhaustion.

The Minister comforted Frank when they met at dinner at the Jarokha restaurant which had entertained Queen Elizabeth, the Shah of Iran and the King of Nepal. “I would have organised a proper celebration for your visit to your ancestor’s grave, but it is better to be prudent”, the Minister quipped. “Many business families, Ministers and even Chief Ministers agree, like me, that the British brought civilisation and progress to India. But for the British, many of us would not have been what we are today”, he said with genuine conviction. “At the same time we have to be careful about people’s sentiments. You must understand, their votes are important for us”. Frank nodded sympathetically.

It was well into the night when the transactions were completed for the joint venture and payments sorted out. The Minister took leave of Frank. “I would have liked to spend some more time here, but I have an early morning appointment. My colleague in Madhya Pradesh has invited me to make a speech about the 1857 rebellion in Neemuch tomorrow”. He then apologetically added, “we have to do our duty also, you see. But, the deal will be signed by the Chief Minister first thing tomorrow afternoon”.  

by S. Raghavan

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