15th October, 1943: Karachi shopping centre

I was not up early enough for breakfast, but was told that, if I hurried, I might be able to have a wash. What did this mean, I wondered. I learnt that the water is cut off from 9am until 5pm to conserve it. We were in India, and this did not surprise me, especially having seen the desert all around the city. To miss a breakfast did not mean having to wait until tiffin, only meant having to buy one at the canteen, which is open all morning. 

Returning from the canteen about eleven o'clock, I saw some Indians watering the trees, shrubs and flowers. Was this the reason why water was not to be wasted? Was the British army more concerned about the plants and the beauty of the garden than for the welfare of the men? There are many things doing in the services which I could never understand, but this lacked all sense and reason. If a man had a dirty job to do, he had to remain dirty until five o'clock, when the water would be turned on again. 

After "tiffin", Loftie, Bill Taylor, Shortie and I went to town. Last night, our arrival in India had been met with coolness. Now, we were greeted with open hands and outstretched arms. Beggars lined the road, and greeted us from all sides. "Salaam Sahib - baksheesh" - the old customs, mentioned in the New Testament of people seeking alms, had not ceased. In fact we soon gathered that begging in India is regarded as an honourable profession among the beggars themselves. The afflictions they have, their distorted and deformed limbs are not accidents, but is inflicted upon them when they are very young by their parents. It is a profession handed down from father to son. 

One thing struck me forcibly - they only begged of white troops and white civilians. It was a racket. Why did they not receive from or beg off their rich fellow-countrymen. The well-to-do Indian did not see his poor brother in the gutter - he is too proud for this. Had I give but one anna to each beggar I saw that night, I should be having to sit amongst them. "Baksheesh Sahib - me white Walla but me poor as hell", I wonder what I would have made of it as a beggar. 

Not to be able to distinguish between the real needy persons, and the professional beggars hurt. One cannot give to all, but to refuse a man or woman who is really hungry would, I think, be little less than a crime. We had read in the papers about the food situation in India, and it was quite possible that some of the people might have pangs of hunger gnawing at them. Who is to know. Nothing would be so pleasing as to be able to offer any beggar a good meal.

Karachi shopping centre, Elphinstone Street, had many fine shops. The town had everything to offer for sale that money could buy, but our wealth was not without limit. I saw immediately that during my stay there, I would not save money. Clothing material, ornaments, antiques, ivory work - heaven only knows what I should have bought to send home if my money had permitted such spending. 

Perhaps it is well we cannot do this - happiness is obtained by making good with the little one has. It is a feeling of pride and satisfaction. Having made a mental note of some of the things we could get, we returned to camp, and to bed.