Mihir Bose’s experiences in the UK resonate somewhat with my own (I came to Britain from India, fulfilled a dream, and I say this: we’re a great country, but a work in progress, 30 April). In 1966, as a 14-year-old, I arrived at Tilbury Docks on a cold foggy morning aboard the SS Himalaya. My father, on temporary assignment in the UK, was able to get me admission to Westminster City grammar, a five-minute walk from Buckingham Palace. I was the only Indian; the racism I faced was not vicious but muted, often manifested through jokes and accent mimicry.
There is a certain advantage to being a minority of one versus a group. People are more accommodating. However, I still remember the first joke from school: “Did you hear about the Indian who lived with a cow?”
