Like many once-thriving colonial ports, Medan has a faintly mildewed, though distinctly cosmopolitan, air. It also has the buzz of a city that&rsquos enjoying a revival and a new prosperity. On its traffic-choked roads, luxury sedans outnumber colourful little bechaks &mdash originally hand-pulled rickshaws, which are now attached as sidecars to motorbikes. Our jolly minder (&ldquoWelcome to Sumatra I am Resham, that is, Silk Singh &mdash but you can call me Roy.&rdquo) is a mine of information on Medan&rsquos history and its Indian connections. Beginning as a trading post in the 19th century, conveniently located 26km inland from the harbour at Belawan on the Malacca Straits, Medan&rsquos population soon grew to include Dutch colonial officials, planters, merchants and traders, and the labourers, shopkeepers and others who came to service their needs. They included a number of Indian migrants, the majority from Tamil Nadu and Punjab, and also Muslims from UP who opened bakeries. The Tamils came mostly as plantation labour in the palm oil, rubber and tobacco estates established by the Dutch, and the Sikhs as watchmen to guard homes, offices and stores. A bit later, since the Dutch found they couldn&rsquot do without their dairy products (unlike the natives who didn&rsquot drink milk at all), they shipped in herds of cows and then recruited Sikhs from Punjab as dairy farmers. Some 30,000 Indians remain today in this city of two million, and they have found new means of livelihood as building contractors, mechanics, spice traders, and tour operators like Resham Singh. Resham&rsquos father came to Medan from a village near Pathankot in the 1930s, as a watchman at the swankiest restaurant in town, the Tip Top. In the &rsquo70s, he retired and went back to his village in Punjab, but his children stayed on and became well-assimilated Indonesians. &ldquoI born and brought up here in Medan. I speak only a little Punjabi,&rdquo Resham chuckles. &ldquoThe day my father leave, I cut my hair and I stop wearing turban.&rdquo