Malgudi Days

Every so often - you must have experienced this - you discover a new author, and it's really one of those exciting moments when you realise they've written a dozen novels and maybe half a dozen short stories that you will be able to enjoy over the coming months. I remember at the age of 10 reading the Just William books by Richmal Compton, then discovering at 14, Ian Flemming, before moving on to P G Wodehouse and Evelyn Waugh. In my 30s I found F Scott Fitzgerald, Steinbeck and Faulkner, having devoured short stories by H H Munro (Saki), Maupassant and O Henry. Yesterday I was introduced to the work of an Indian author many of you in England will have read, and I feel guilty about having discovered him so late in life. I want to share with you the fulfilling R K Narayan. I'm starting with Malgudi Days, a collection of his short stories. If you've got nothing to do this bank holiday weekend, rush out to your nearest library or bookshop and grab a copy of anything he's written, because he's sheer magic.

Take-overs and tolls

Yesterday evening I had a marvellous dinner with 100 guests from the world of entertainment, politics and business. Among them was Mr Krishna Kumar, the man who was responsible for taking over Corus Steel, Jaguar, Landrover and Tetley tea. Mr Kumar's fascinating tale of the bidding process between him and the Brazilians locked away in separate rooms is worthy of a short story in its own right. Failed for the fifth night in a row to get to bed before midnight.

Up this morning at six, and we decided to drive rather than take the plane to Pune, which was a very pleasant experience on the excellent express highway paid for by tolls. The problems only arose when we approached the outskirts of the city to find all the roads blocked off because a minister was passing through on his way to a meeting in Pune. I pointed out to my minder that if a British minister, even the Prime Minister, stopped everyone getting into a town, he'd lose the next election by a landslide. "Yes," he said, "but you don't assassinate your ministers." Shocked, I asked him how many ministers had been killed in the last 10 years. He replied, "I can't tell you how many in the last 10 years, but in the past 2 years 10 have been murdered." One of those rare occasions when I was speechless, and reminded how lucky we are in Britain where the only pot shots we take are usually in cartoons.

After 6 print interviews and a radio interview, this evening I am doing another 'meet the people speech'. Because of the bank holiday weekend in the UK, it will be 2 or 3 days before you get my next post. Have a great weekend.

Bollywood and book signings

It would be thrilling for any author on earth to arrive as a foreigner in a town such as Romford for the promotion of their book to find over a thousand people waiting for them in the local WHSmith. That's the equivalent of what happened to me yesterday at a Landmark bookstore on the outskirts of Mumbai. I spoke for 30 minutes and answered questions for another 30, but it then took two and a half hours of signing before the last person presented their book. It was one of the most thrilling evenings of my life. I am staggered by the intensity and sincerity of the Indian people and the courtesy they show storytellers that others might dismiss as lightweights. This is clearly a tour I shall never forget. I arrived back at my hotel just before midnight and was asleep within moments.

This morning I had 7 print and 2 tv interviews, and am about to go over to the National Gallery of Modern Art to try and learn a thing or two about Indian art, about which I confess I know nothing. This evening I dine with Bollywood, and meet producers, directors and people connected with the film world - about which I also know nothing - although the newspapers this morning are full of news from Bollywood and the Twenty20 cricket; in fact these two subjects dominate the first and the last 10 pages of every paper. More of that tomorrow.

Indian walkabout

The tv interview I mentioned yesterday is Walk The Talk, where the host, Shekhar Gupta, goes to your place of work and walks about with you asking questions. For me, he chose a large bookshop, but his questions were not about books, anything but. He wanted to know about Cherie Blair and Tony, about David Cameron and Gordon Brown, the Indian cricket team and why the England players were always injured, and with about 2 minutes to go, he deigned to mention the books. This was quickly followed by an interview with a young reporter from a literary mazagine, before I was rushed back to my hotel - well, we travelled at roughly 2 miles an hour with pedestrians overtaking the car. A quick turnaround before attending a very enjoyable dinner in honour of the a Mr Singh, former secretary at the Ministry of Finance. It was well-attended by a galaxy of Members of Parliament and the luminaries of the art world. Talk was of India's future, and the minister of tourism was convinced that India could do more than hold its own against China, and probably had a better chance of advancing on the world stage.

This morning I had a 9am flight to Mumbai (which some of you may remember as Bombay). Instead of a flight of just under an hour, having had a delayed take-off and repeated circles above Mumbai before landing, the journey from my hotel in Delhi was just over 5 hours. What is fascinating is the Indians take this all for granted and do not complain. I arrived at the hotel in time for lunch and have just completed 4 print interviews. This evening I'm giving another talk following by a book signing, which they tell me is likely to be the busiest of the whole tour.

If it's Monday, it must be...

This morning I had to get up at 6am for an early flight back to Delhi - and this time because of a sandstorm the plane was 3 hours late, but I would like to say that although the airport itself was third world, the aircraft itself (a Kingfisher) was as good as anything I've flown on in the world. I later discovered that the airlines are run by independent businessmen and the airports by the government. Perhaps they ought to read Margaret Thatcher's memoirs, because it's clear that Indian businessmen make things happen, whereas governments the world over tend to hold things up. Back in Delhi and straight to the NDTV studios. Sonia Singh interviewed me in front of a hundred young Indians, and their questions were to the point and very demanding. I don't think India need worry about its next generation. I'm now on my way to another TV interview, an hour away, but more of that tomorrow as I'm dictating this in a car being driven by a lunatic.

The heat, the bustle and cricketing legends

Arrived in Delhi to be met by the Landmark team headed by Lijin Thomas. My first surprise came at customs when the man checking my passport asked for an autograph. He then turned round and told his colleagues, 'It's Jeffrey Archer,' and half an hour later I managed to pass through. It turns out that in India, authors are like film stars, partly because the nation is so well-read - of a billion people, 200 million read and 50 million read books regularly.

After a quick turn around at my hotel (where my suite was larger than a cricket pitch) I went off to a lunch arranged by Lokesh Sharma; a wonderful occasion and such a variety of guests, including Nawab of Pataudi who was up at Baliol and captain of cricket just before I was presidet of athletics. Kapil Dev strolled in, followed by the Minister of Commerce, Kamal Nath, and they were supplemented by two former ministers, a judge and a Bollywood star. I was meant to sit down for lunch at 1pm, as my first interview with The Times of India was at 2pm, but we're in India, and I sat down at 1.50pm, for precisely 2 minutes before being invited to speak, so I didn't actually get any lunch (I'm glad I'm slimming at the moment).

My first interviewer was courageous enough to say that two distinguished Indian authors (and I choose my words carefully) were sacred cows you were not allowed to criticise, whereas in truth many people struggled with their books. All the interviewers were interested in my first impressions of India, but I had to point out that I'd only just got off the plane. However, I do have a few observations, mainly of bicycles being ridden the wrong way down one-way streets dodging the on-coming traffic, little green auto-rickshaws being driven at full speed in an out of traffic, no rules, no bus lanes, the occasional cow in the middle of the road and in major cities some 50 accidents a day. All in all, one would have to describe the Italians as cautious in comparison. I followed this with 4 more print and 3 TV interviews. Sunil Sethi of NDTV conducted a brilliant interview and I was full of admiration for the research he'd obviously done and his relaxed and professional manner.

I was rushed off to a bookstore on the outskirts of Delhi to find 700 people waiting for me. After I'd given a talk, the signing session lasted two and a half hours - and the only reason I escaped was because they ran out of books. Battered and hungry I said to my minder how surprised I'd been to find so many people there, and he replied, 'Oh, they're going to get a lot worse,' - by that he meant bigger crowds. From there, to a Twenty20 match between the Delhi DareDevils v King's XI Punjab. Sadly a rainstorm got in the way of any result, but what did strike me about the Twenty20 - about which much is written in the British press - is what great international players they have - I saw McGrath, Sehwag, and Marsh playing as if their life depended on it, and the crowd of 42,000 were screaming and shouting after every ball. I have a feeling this Indian experiment is going to be with us for a long time. Got back to the hotel very late, exhausted and hungry, but having enjoyed every moment.

The following morning I did 5 magazine interviews, then had a quick bowl of soup before being rushed off to the airport to travel to Lucknow. The flight was delayed by over an hour, so on arrival rushed straight to the Landmark bookstore to find another few hundred people waiting for me, as well as a group of 5 journalists from the local papers who interviewed me together. At least the bookstore had enough books in stock, so the signing went on for another couple of hours, after which I had to fit in a second interview with The Times of India and a different journalist because she'd missed her earlier slot. Back in my hotel room by 11pm - another early start tomorrow for a flight back to Delhi.

Fabulous Forties night

Off to the tent in Battersea Park last night to do an auction for Leonard Cheshire Disability, which is celebrating its 60th anniversary. 500 people turned out for a Forties evening, with the women all doing their best to look like Celia Johnson. One genuinely original auction item was to be immortalised as an Aardman Animations character. The team who created Creature
Comforts and the Oscar winning Wallace and Gromit, helped put Leonard Cheshire Disability on the map with Creature Discomforts, a series of animated adverts featuring real disabled people. They offered to interview the top bidder, analyse their voice and personality and design their very own Creature Comforts character - with a private guided tour of the Aardman studios thrown in. This went for £13,000, and the auction overall raised £86,500. I enjoyed the evening, and the event organiser, Sharon West, worked her cotton socks off. I really admire people who give such service to causes they believe in.

I'm off to India later today for a 12 day tour of that great continent, where A Prisoner of Birth is currently No.1 on the bestseller list. Although I will have many official activities - book signing sessions and talks - I'm much looking forward to attending the IPL match between the Delhi DareDevils v Kings XI Punjab . I will be blogging from India, so will keep you informed of what I'm up to.

Views over London

On Wednesday evening Mary and I hosted a charity function at the flat for our old friend Penny Gummer for the Ormiston Children and Families Trust. About a 100 people joined us for drinks and canapes, and I was delighted to learn that their silent auction had raised around £30,000 even before the evening was over, so I'm hoping it will be nearer £50,000 by the time all the pledges have been collected. The charity works to promote the well being of children and young people, especially those disadvantaged by their life experiences or circumstances. Not that it would matter which charity it was, because if Penny is involved, you can guarantee the cause is worthwhile and she will have worked very hard to make a success of it. Her husband John, former Secretary of State for the Environment, looked out of the window at the London Eye, and said, "I'm responsible for that, Jeffrey. Everyone was against it, and now very few are suggesting it should come down. Compared with the Dome, it's a bit of a triumph," he added.

Life through a lens

Last night I went to the opening of the Patrick Lichfield exhibition at the Chris Beetles Gallery. Joanna Lumley, much loved by all, introduced Barry Humphries who officially opened the exhibition. Barry is of the old-fashioned school; he had obviously taken some considerable time preparing a speech about his old friend Patrick Lichfield and his admiration for his work, but more than that, the speech was witty, informative and full of wonderful anecdotal stories. Very hard to see the exhibition last night as there were so many famous people looking at each other rather than the pictures. But I particularly liked the photograph of Susannah York and another of Marlon Brando in deep conversation with Charlie Chaplin. It's fun, and well worth a visit.

There ain't nothing like a Dame

Dame Edna Everage took Addenbrooke's Hospital by storm on Saturday morning. Not satisfied with opening the occasion, she then proceeded around the hospital and the stalls for the next couple of hours sharing her medical expertise and experience with the hundreds of people present. Mary had pointed out in her opening speech that the distinguished visitor before Dame Edna was Her Majesty The Queen. I left my poor wife Mary with the words, who in heavens name are we going to get next time? I know from messages passed on to me how grateful people are when a star takes the trouble to give up their time and offer their professional services at no charge. The turnout for the opening broke all records and I will end on the poem Dame Edna wrote specially for the occasion.

Ode to Addenbrooke’s – to be recited joyfully by an Australian Gigastar

I love to visit hospitals
No matter when or where
And my favourite department
Is of course, Intensive Care.
I feel happy and relaxed there
Far away from household chores
Bringing joy to all the patients
Pushing through those floppy doors.
As a kiddie I would visit
My dear old Auntie Molly
Who passed away quite suddenly
By falling off her trolley.
And years later when I took
the Theatre World by storm
I practically lived in intensive care
To cherish my husband Norm.
I even built a hospital
And gave it to the nation
Surely you must all have heard
of my Royal Prostate Foundation.
I have given more to medicine
Than those other famous Dames
And my husband’s organ has inspired
The Prostate Olympic Games!

But tucked away in Cambridge,
In one of England’s lovliest nooks
Is a hospital that I adore,
You’ve guessed it, Addenbrooke’s!
The concourse alone’s enough to make
you glad that you’re alive
(Call me old-fashioned but it reminds me
Of an efficient Terminal 5.)
I come here to have my hair done
Book a trip, or throw a party
Or sip my favourite coffee,
An Americano or a latté.

I guard my anonymity
When I’m here at Addenbrooke’s
So I’m not always signing autographs
Or receiving awe-struck looks.
And on those rare occasions
when I don’t want to be seen
I wear a polyester headscarf -
A present from the Queen.
But now, upon your Open Day
I’m so full-on I’m scary!
And I’m proud to be the special guest
Of my fragrant friend, Dame Mary.
For here you have a hospital
That all the world should see
It’s an institution,
life-affirming,
Iconic, like me!

So possums, open up your hearts
And if you will, your purses,
And remember all the fun we had
When we played doctors and nurses.


I had to rush Dame Edna back to London as her alter-ego Barry Humphries was appearing as one of the judges on the BBC programme, I'd Do Anything that evening. What a pro.