The settlement of a substantial Indian colony brought in its train cultural and religious practices. Without their ancestral heritage they would have drifted into a cultural vacuum. As they had to prove their economic vitality which depended upon their social stability, it was important that facilities were made available for an environment conducive to a life of contentment.

Today the UK is dotted with temples and mosques. The skyline of the country, formerly dominated by church spires, has now changed and some areas remind us of the Middle East.

The predominance of Sikhs and Hindus in Southall has converted the borough into a little Punjab. Bearded Sikhs with their proud turbans have replaced the English on the benches of the public parks. Indian shops, restaurants and sari emporiums have invaded the High Street. The English are rare species in this part. Even the pubs have been taken on by the Indian youths.

The Indians are concentrated in certain parts of London. Their gregarious nature has led to concentration in such places as Wembley and Kilburn. Each area has its place of worship. But the jewel of Hindu architecture is the monumental and stunningly beautiful Swaminarayan mandir in Neasden. Built by skilled craftsmen from India, the mandir is a landmark of the capital city. The Head Priest, with whom I became very friendly, had fond memories of Mauritian ministers and other VIP?s making a call on him after a tour of that holy place. Most of the temple staff offer their services voluntarily. Some have even given up their profession to join the Swaminarayan order as swamis to be full-time servants of God.

Although not as numerous as the Hindus, the Sikhs have built their gurudwara wherever they have settled. Their place of worship does not look imposing as in India. Everyone can go to the gurudwara. One feels the aura of holiness pervading every nook and corner. To the Sikhs, tobacco is taboo and no one is allowed inside before he empties his pocket of that obnoxious substance. Shoes have to be taken off and the head must be covered. The look inside is austere for besides the altar, the sikhi gadhi, where the granth is kept, there is no ornament. Everybody sits on the floor. Each gurudwara is fitted with a kitchen where delicious meals are served to devotees.

The Indian community is quick to find out through its grapevine about the background of the new incumbent of Elvaston Place. If the Mauritian High Commissioner happens to be a Hindu, he is flooded with invitations to attend religious functions. Together with his colleague, the Indian High Commissioner, he is caught in a cultural and religious web from which it is not always easy to extricate oneself.

On one occasion I had a very unpleasant experience. The Gujratis had organized a katha on a lavish scale and had taken over for the occasion the whole of the open ground in the borough. The officiating priest was brought from India. The ceremony was scheduled to end at 12.30 pm. The local grandees, the Indian and the Ugandan High Commissioners were present. At 1 pm the priest was still in the middle of his sermon which he was delivering both in English and Gujrati. Each time a piece of paper was sent to him to curtail the ceremony, it was as if he was prompted into another flight of oratory. By 2 pm he was still riding the crest of his oratorical waves. Some English guests unceremoniously took the exit. I had another engagement and I told the Indian High Commissioner I had to leave. I was already in my car on the way home when the strident voice of the Pandit was still being heard, blaring out of the loud speaker. In India, he would have been shouted down a long time ago. But the London Gujratis were too polite or perhaps they were enjoying the marathon performance.

There were other occasions when I was given the welcome due to my status. Where there was a Mauritian presence, the reception was of a high standard and completely relaxed. At the London Arya Samaj functions, the Mauritian members were proud to greet me and I was happy to be in familiar surroundings. I never missed any of their invitations. The Mauritian colony, which numbers approximately thirty thousand, celebrate the national day and the cultural and religious groups observe their festivals. I went once to a Tamil function in Highgate. I was really surprised by the large crowd. I could never have imagined there were so many Tamils in that part of London. As in Mauritius, it was the women who showed much devotion.

The Mauritian Muslims also are a well organized group faithfully preserving their Islamic heritage by the observance of their religious days and attendance at Friday prayers. The Hindi speaking Mauritian Hindus are not as well organized and active as others. L?Organisation Chrétienne de Londres was the best disciplined and thoroughly mannered of all the Mauritian associations. I was a regular guest at their church services at Leicester Square. I enjoyed their company. I have fond memories of some members who can represent their country with more dignity than some political recruits of dubious background.

I have spoken of cultural activities among Indians and Mauritians. But there is more to it. London is the cultural centre of Europe. The rich variety of concerts, theatres and ballet provides entertainment both enriching and enjoyable. The press, television, lectures, musical recitals, well-stocked libraries with the latest publications, museums, etc. are so many sources of educational and cultural opportunity. The choice is so wide and varied that there is no excuse to get bored. As a diplomat, I could not take advantage of all the facilities because of inadequate means and time. But I did benefit whenever I was free from official obligations. My most boring moments were the official receptions where you would find yourself in the company of people you have never met and where the conversation was limited to introductory exchanges. The daily round of receptions had become a burden to be discharged as an expression of consideration and goodwill to the host countries. My feelings were shared by other diplomats.

The ladies had their own association, organizing charities and occasional cooking sessions. Their social activities made significant erosions in my allowances. I realized why some heads of mission complained of the meagre resources to meet all the commitments and how they are often out of pocket. Those who believe that diplomats are fat cats are totally ignorant of the style of life which the status imposes and the cost involved in maintaining it.

There are certain capitals where life is not costly and the allowances can prove adequate. There should be different criteria to calculate the Foreign Service allowance for those places. The days when ambassadors were recruited on the basis, inter alia, of their financial standing are gone. In those days, diplomacy was the preserve of the aristocracy. Now it is often the refuge of political cronies. Notwithstanding the fact that cultural life is rich and varied, it is not possible to take full advantage because of the high cost of theatre and concert tickets. Even when you can afford it, the bookings must be made at least three to six months in advance at the West End.

The irony is that even advanced civilizations have not been able to put culture within the reach of average citizens. The best ballets and best plays are the prerogatives of the rich. The reason is obvious. The cost of production and artists? fees are too high. Diplomats from the third world could only occasionally afford to attend. The British must be congratulated for opening their museums to the public free of charge. To the newcomers whose sojourn is limited, London is an exciting place with large possibilities for self education. It is also a place with free road shows.

Leicester Square is becoming a small Marrakesh with acrobats performing their antics and fledgling artists, busy drawing crayon portraits of tourists? tousled profiles. In a corner of the Square, sizzling hotdogs attract long queues. Leicester Square is the favorite haunt of tourists. The Square is famous for its cinema houses, some of which have survived the assault of videotapes. One I knew years ago is now a Chinese restaurant. It is in Leicester Square that Mauritian Christians assemble in the French Catholic church for Sunday mass and social events. My wife and I enjoyed going there because the true Mauritian spirit prevailed. The crowd was quite mixed. There were Hindus and Muslims participating in the events in a family ambiance without any complex.