Readers may be aware that Thomas Bulford died recently (though not as recently as before), and that I had what I then regarded as the onerous honour of editing his lexicographical work. Following this, his son presented the Publisher with a box of scribblings that he said were his 'distinguished' father's. My impression was that they were, indeed, Thomas Bulford's (the senior). Firstly, they bore a striking resemblance to the 'essays' that the Publisher insisted on being incorporated in the English Companion as introductions to the various definitional categories. Secondly, and I say this with…mehr
Readers may be aware that Thomas Bulford died recently (though not as recently as before), and that I had what I then regarded as the onerous honour of editing his lexicographical work. Following this, his son presented the Publisher with a box of scribblings that he said were his 'distinguished' father's. My impression was that they were, indeed, Thomas Bulford's (the senior). Firstly, they bore a striking resemblance to the 'essays' that the Publisher insisted on being incorporated in the English Companion as introductions to the various definitional categories. Secondly, and I say this with as much grace as I can, they, whilst being somewhat idiosyncratic in construction and questionable in logic, contained a number of insights into the human condition that were also occasionally present in the earlier volume. Accordingly, with less reluctance than before, I agreed to edit this material, and offer it to readers for their judgement. Editor
This story is the final of three set in India and Australia, beginning around 1950 and following through to today. Ranga Plays Australia tells the original story, in the third person. It had its origin in a suggestion by an old friend that I write a book about India, cricket, and Australia - surely an irresistible combination. But I am not Indian, though I did have boyhood Indian playmates and have visited India several times, so my concern resolved around writing authentically, where an Indian reader would not be able to take me to task. Luckily, I was introduced to Bhaktavatsala Moola, an eminent movie producer and widely-read in English literature. He was also a protege of former Prime Minister Indira Gandhi. Bhakta rode shotgun on me, chapter by chapter. Looking back on the story, I found that I was very fond of Ranga's guru and his many wise sayings, such that I put these together in a second book, The Wisdom of Harkishen Singh, which was complemented with photos of an earlier India. Now this book, which shows the context of some of Harkishen's sayings, and spends more time with Ranga's later life, with more attention to his Australian experience. This is told in the first person.
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