Denise Hughes Weston - I came from exactly the same background. Any thought of "coloured" blood was hurriedly swept under the carpet. I do believe that dear Mama believed she had pulled the wool over our (brother and self) eyes until the day she passed on. She was born in London - like hell! Nearer to Lahore. Great great grand father was a noted musician - like hell he was! He was a Bandmaster for some Scottish regiment and was commissioned and married a pahari girl in Simla. He had three daughters and one was my grandmother. All this was never told to me but I garnered it because, as my ayah would say, "Little pitchers have long y-e-r-s" and I compared notes with my brother and we have a fairly comprehensive knowledge of our progenitors!......But reverting to Harshoo's subject of Indian customs and thus to the faithful servants who looked after us I would like to place on record my love for my ayah who was a wonderful, comfortable lady and a refuge from all the evils out there including irate parents. Oh, how I wish I could have that time over again! What appreciation I would show and, indeed,what respect I would give to our "butler", dear old Solomon. He was a Madrasi of almost frail build but he ran the household with a rod of iron. I remember he caught the masaulchi stealing a banana on one occasion. The poor kid was hungry! But Solomon sat him down and fed him bananas until he was bursting and for the next three days he ate nothing but bananas! "Master Bill" - me - could do no wrong. But in the unlikely event of my my being caught erring Solomon would look so uneasy, so disappointed that little "Master Bill" would dissolve into tears of mortification - and run for ayah!...Somewhere, somehow there should be a marble monument erected to those marvellous "servants". God rest their souls.