The world's a-changing faster than I had even imagined, I discovered recently, when I met Sirdar Iqbal Singh, Lord of Butley, during my travels to Scotland.
It wasn't difficult finding his castle. I headed west from Edinburgh and swerved southbound on the M74 shortly before entering Glasgow. I exited at the sign for the village of Lesmahagow. Suddenly, if felt like I had hit the "calm" button: The Scottish countryside opened up in full glory around me.
T. Sher Singh
I negotiated the roundabout, turned on to a dirt road, bounced past farms and fields, but with not a human soul in sight since I left the motorway. An aging and narrow gateway beckoned me: A plaque on the crumbling wall announced the 19th century "Little Castle."
It was drizzling as I approached the sprawling edifice on the meandering driveway. The 67-year-old laird of the manor - I recognized him instantly by his white turban - graciously met me at my car with an umbrella. The warm welcome jived with everything I had read about him.
Born near Lahore - the former capital of the Sikh Kingdom of Punjab, now in Pakistan - he had arrived in England in 1959 to pursue medical studies. The vagaries of an immigrant's lot instead directed him, via a string of jobs, into real estate development. Where he made a bundle and became a comfortable part of London's gentry.
In 1986, while looking for a place to retire from the hustle and bustle of metropolitan London, he discovered - and acquired - the Scottish castle. Before long, he and his Swiss-born wife, Gertrude, had made Lesmahagow their home.
Neither did it take them long to win the hearts of all Scotland. He and his wife - both coming from two separate cultures, both renowned for their hospitality - were bowled over by the spontaneous warmth and welcome of Scots from every walk of life. They wanted to reciprocate, and in the process became more Scottish than the Scots themselves. And they love every moment of it, as they continue with the zeal of converts.
Around Christmas in 1994, when floods displaced pensioners in nearby Paisley, the Sirdar (the Punjabi honorific translates into "Chieftain") threw open his Victorian home to the homeless during their plight.
Then, when he discovered Robert Burns' poetry, he also discovered that the national icon had few, if any, places named to honour him in Scotland - not unlike the way we in Canada treat our own heroes! It just happened that Lord Iqbal Singh was also the owner of Vacsay Island in the Outer Hebrides, not far from Stornoway. He promptly renamed the island after Robbie Burns.
Since then, he has also commissioned the translation of Burns' key poems into Punjabi.
His current project: He leads a movement to rename Prestwick Airport the Burns International. When I asked him what prompted him to take on this mission, the Laird of Lesmahagow explained that he was puzzled by the rumour that some people wanted to rename the airport after Elvis Presley. "He was here once, for an hour or so. That's why. Imagine! If New York has the Kennedy Airport, Paris the De Gaulle, it's only appropriate that ours be called Burns."
When asked about his title, Lord of Butley Manor, he shrugs his shoulder and explains that it came, like many British titles do, with the acquisition of an estate in Suffolk that had once belonged to Henry VIII. He worries that it may create an aura of aloofness and constantly works at dispelling it.
For example, prior to leaving London for his estate in Scotland, he sold his Rolls Royce. The two cars they use now are nondescript - by choice.
The Sirdar is modest when asked about his achievements. And humble, in a very spiritual sense, when I remark that he has broken many barriers. He merely ascribes it all to the "goodness of the Scots, their openness, their friendliness . . ."
But it is difficult to discount the persistence and tenacity, sometimes even the audacity, of this gentle man - and the strength that stands beside him in Lady Gertrude.
Not too long ago, when the two were asked to preside at a prize-giving ceremony, they noticed that the Sikh children at the school where the event was being held stood out quite noticeably. Why do these children have different uniforms? the Singhs enquired of their hosts. Oh, they aren't treated differently - was the quick reply; it's just that they don't have any family tartans of their own, while the other kids do.
To the baron of Butley Manor, the solution was simple. He immediately commissioned the renowned Lochcarron firm (the same that designed the Princess Diana Tartan) in Galashiels to design a new tartan. In 1999, the Scottish Tartan Authority officially recognized, as part of its closely guarded registry, the Singh Tartan. Predominantly blue (a colour closely linked with Sikh history) and green, the tartan has "single yellow lines and stripes in a white and red formation."
Before I leave, I linger in the garden which, a short distance away, drops precipitously and continues over dale and valley until it rises majestically into a backdrop of endless green. The Sirdar is right: All of this comes "only through the grace of God."
As I drive away and emerge from the ancient gateway, I notice a small, rusty sign sticking out of the grass: "Thank You for Visiting," it says.
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