Tea time in the Nilgiris

'Tea Without Sympathy' or 'The Disillusioned Planter' might have been a more appropriate title for E.S.J. Davidar's Memoirs of a Planting Life. By his own admission, he was enamoured of the ambience of tea plantations while holidaying with his uncle who was a manager of a tea estate in Kotagiri in the Nilgiri hills. He applied for a job with a Sterling (British) tea company in the Annamalais, a tea district in Tamil Nadu, where he was required to stay for three days with the general manager (presumably to test his social skills) but was found unsuitable. After this failure, he joined the Army. It turned out to be a wrong decision. His brief stint in the Army, besides being inadvertently peppered with buck shot in his derriere, was by and large uneventful. Fortuitously, during his leave which he was again spending with his uncle, he learnt that Sterling Tea Companies were recruiting, and applied to a British company with three tea estates in Peermade in Kerala (erstwhile State of Travancore). After being interviewed by the general manager &mdash an "inexorable inquisition" which included correcting his pronunciation of the letter H &mdash he was selected.

At that time, the tea districts were colonial outposts and the anglophile atmosphere was all-pervasive. Management was British (predominantly Scots) and it was only after India became independent that Sterling Tea Companies thought it politically expedient to indigenise. Davidar was the first Indian assistant superintendent to join. The British had tried to replicate their country as far as possible and the unique British creation &mdash the club &mdash became the epicentre of social life and recreation. Books, magazines and newspapers were sent out to keep the expatriates in touch with the mother country. Unfortunately, unlike other major tea districts which had a plethora of sporting activities, the Peermade Club would appear to have a lean menu of tennis, bridge and carousing (a major activity common to all districts) as relaxation after a hard day.

Davidar's 24 years at work were not particularly happy. Despite being rewarded with promotions in recognition of his work, his constant run-ins with belligerent labour unions, the devastating fire that destroyed his bungalow when he was on leave and, most sadly, the attitude of Indians both within the company and in Indian tea companies, towards him, added to his unhappiness. Even his promotion to general manager proved to be a crown of thorns, as a penny-pinching, myopic Board, whilst increasing his responsibilities, curtailed his powers.

Unfortunately the joie de vivre and the presence of 'characters' unique to planting districts is understated. Instead, there is an undertone of sadness and disillusionment. The irony of it all is that he chose to retire in the Nilgiris where the first glimpse of the camellia bush had inspired him to follow his uncle's footsteps and become a tea planter.