Many sides to one man

The funeral of the pioneering BBC broadcaster, Mahendra Kaul, who died in London at the age of 95, took place recently at the Golders Green Crematorium in north London. "I was here only three weeks ago," remarked Navnit Dholakia, the deputy leader of the Liberal Democrats in the House of Lords, as we filed out of the chapel into the bright sunlight.

These days, Golders Green is increasingly journey's end for Indians who came to Britain in the 1950s and 1960s. A memorial plaque records that the first Hindu funeral at Golders Green in 1911 was that of "Lieutenant-Colonel His Highness Maharaja Sir Nripendra Narayan Bhup Bahadur, GCIE, CB, of Cooch Behar" (grandfather of Gayatri Devi, the late Maharani of Jaipur). In the BBC's programming for Indian and Pakistani immigrants in the 1960s, Kaul presented Nai Zindagi Naya Jeevan ("New Life New Way"). Indira Gandhi, Morarji Desai and Margaret Thatcher (with whom he apparently "flirted outrageously") appeared on his programme, as did Ravi Shankar, Lata Mangeshkar and Raj Kapoor. As a Kashmiri who had gone to school in Srinagar, Kaul conversed with Dilip Kumar in eloquent Urdu.

On the sidelines, Kaul and three business partners launched the Gaylord restaurant on Mortimer Street in London, where he installed a tandoor in 1966 and ushered in the age of the tandoori chicken. He is survived by his wife, Rajni, his daughter, the celebrated judge, Kalyani Kaul, and two grandchildren.

Detailed story

I bought my copy of Reham Khan's memoirs - simply called Reham Khan - on Amazon for £17.99. It arrived a few days ago, giving me the chance to read bits of it in the course of a Tube journey to an interview near Heathrow.

It is a big book: 500-plus pages of close print. Reham could have done with an editor to tighten the manuscript and replace the numerical chapter headings with more arresting titles, such as: "What does Imran really think of Jemima (not a lot)?", "What did Imran do at school?" and "The Man and the myth". One of the milder observations is: "Jemima was only 21 when she married a 43-year-old Imran. For Jemima, marrying a much older man from another culture couldn't have been much fun."

Will Reham be invited to the Jaipur Literature Festival to talk about her book? It has been dismissed as the embittered reaction of a wife who was dumped by Pakistan's Number One celebrity cricketer-turned-politician. But there is so much fine detail in the account of her two marriages that she could not possibly have made it all up.

I will resist going into all the intimate allegations in the pages, but suffice it to say that this could be the #MeToo book to emerge from Pakistan.

Turning tide

When I first entered the field of journalism, newspapers and broadcasters had 'labour' or 'industry' correspondents to cover strikes, of which there were a great many in Britain. There were also 'diplomatic correspondents' who received daily briefings from the Foreign & Commonwealth Office. I wanted to be like the Daily Mail's stylish John Dickie, who wore a fresh carnation every day. These jobs have now vanished.

In a sign of the times, Megha Mohan, a reporter who works in the BBC's digital current affairs department, recently tweeted: "Thrilled to start as the BBC's first global Gender and Identity Correspondent".

The BBC, whose 21,239-strong staff includes 417 transgender people, 786 gay men, 206 lesbians and 365 bisexual individuals, reflects social change in Britain. A BBC spokeswoman tells me that Megha's "specialist role will be to cover stories about gender and identity which could be around people's faith, ethnicity, sexuality and LGBTQ+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer+) experiences across the globe. We know that gender and identity issues are of great interest particularly to our younger audiences around the world and this role will be dedicated to reporting on them."

I predict that India, considered by some to be the most dangerous country in the world for women, will figure quite significantly in her reporting. In one article, Megha protested against the manner in which she was prevented from attending her grandmother's last rites in Rameswaram in Tamil Nadu because she was having her period.

Common factor

What do Sir Isaac Newton and Narendra Modi have in common? The answer is their belief in demonetization, as I learnt from a gripping BBC radio play, Isaac Newton - Master of the Mint. After 30 years as a Cambridge academic, Newton was Warden and then Master of the Royal Mint in the Tower of London from 1696-1727. "Soon he's diving into notorious drinking dens and interrogating prisoners in jail in pursuit of a counterfeiting gang. But can he catch the ringleaders before their criminal plans trigger a huge financial crash... that threatens to topple the government?" The worst criminals go to the gallows, while their counterfeiting equipment is smashed to smithereens on Newton's orders - in other words, demonetization occurs.

Footnote

I met Sir Suma Chakrabarti, almost certainly the most travelled Bengali in Britain - and probably the world - in his capacity as president of the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development. India has become one of the bank's shareholders. When I asked where Suma had travelled in the last 12 months, his excellent press officer sent me a list of 27 countries with dates. "Last week I was in Bulgaria," said Suma, who could end up as Master of an Oxbridge college.