I carefully read her letter to the Tribe of Nicholson. “Intriguing” Rai Memsahib replied. “She does not want to be caught by history telling you how to stop a civil war in 1857 but ….. she knows you can impress people John.”
“By hunting tigers?” I asked.
“Metaphor” Rosh Sahib replied.
“Yes but I don’t think I can just send copies of our Wahhabi file to perfect strangers so I will actually have to correspond and perhaps even…..visit!” The horror was reflected in my voice. I was not a social animal in any form or shape or stripe!
“We can do the correspondence” Son # 2 said. Rosh Sahib and Rai Memsahib nodded.
“Perhaps an offer of hunting or polo or cricket here?” Khan Son # 1 suggested.
“We are talking about the biggest royals in India!” I shot back, knocking down his bailiwick. “It would be like inviting Prince Albert to tea! I might be able to chat with ‘Nero’ because he has chosen to continue our links forged during that bloody year of freezing hell in Kashmiri but I could not even get accepted to a durbar by the Amirs of Sindh. The big Rajput Princes would laugh. Holkar? Just writing to him would be deemed an insult. And for complex reasons I have not dared contact Scindia of Gwalior despite the fact I long ago assisted him.”
“Saved his life” Brother # 2 added.
“But I was employed by a professional thief at the time which is a tad embarrassing and I don’t want him to feel even more disappointed in me than he probably already is. And he is grown up now. Children who grow up see the feet of clay their childish eyes originally missed.”
“At least we can write to the Rajah of Jammu and Kashmiri right now” Brother # 2 suggested. “And you have an entry to Jodhpur through ….. you know who…..” Brother # 2 added.
“And you can write to the Commander of the Hyderabad Contingent of the Nizam asking advice — soldier to soldier!” Brother # 1 suggested.. “You have always kept your links to every Sikh Reform movement and are supporting their boycott of Sikh temples run by bogus Hindu overseers who are installing idols and muddying the Sikh Orthodoxy.”
“I am not good with people on a —-social— level” I warned everyone. It was an obvious fact but one that could not be repeated too often!
“But we cannot just shoot off letters uninvited unless…. we ….. are writing in your name in some capacity. Hunting. Big clue! Hunting!” Rai Memsahib pointed to my tiger rug. Khan Son # 1 bent down and shook it as if it was alive.
“And you have your tiger poshteen jacket which any rajah or nawab would be impressed with! And I can sew top uniforms” my Uncle suggested as my Father nodded. “We will dress you to look as fine as any one of those illustrious princes of India!”
“And officers don’t wear jewels which is fortunate because you don’t own any” Brother # 3 added. “But I can make sure you have the best horse!”
“But my clumsy blundering will not only offend the targets but announce to the Wahhabi Conspirators I am trying to contact and influence key royals against them while alerting John Lawrence who has given me an unofficial order to keep out of diplomatic concerns which are the perks of Regency Officers like himself. We cannot be seen doing this!”
“Hunting!” everyone shouted. “That is the big clue? Right?”
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The Victorian Blogs of Nicholson Political Officer 