The Hyderabadi in an Indian Diplomat

Abid Hussain would have been 98 last week. Visiting my home in Hyderabad this month I recalled his visit to the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, a quarter century back. I was then a lowly Assistant Professor of Computer Science at the university. Sometime in 1990 the university had established a US-India Center for research that the then Indian Ambassador to the United States, Abid Hussain, was to inaugurate. My instant reaction was, "Oh! Abid Uncle is visiting us."

Abid Hussain, childhood friend and classmate of my father through their years together at Madaras-e-Aliya and Nizam College, was also a batchmate of my father's in the Indian Administrative Service, batch of 1950. He was my grandfather's favourite student at Nizam College. My grandfather, a lecturer in economics, had taken a special liking to this bright, charismatic, handsome student. Both were flamboyant individuals, who dressed elegantly to college. They seemed cut from the same cloth.

When I informed my father that Abid uncle would be in town he said, “Call him, let him know, meet with him.” This was 1990— the pre- internet era. I called the Indian embassy and left a message. A few days later the embassy called. The Ambassador had received my message. He would be in Ann Arbor only for a day trip, flying in late morning and leaving by evening. Unfortunately, the University had completely packed his schedule and there was no free time when I could meet with him. However, would I be willing to accompany the Ambassador to the airport that evening in his limousine, on his way back to DC? I said, sure.

On the day of the event, a group of Indian faculty formed the formal receiving line for the Ambassador—senior-most faculty at the beginning of the line, lowly assistant professors at the end. As the Ambassador made his way down the line, with the President of the University and the Dean of Engineering in tow, each faculty member would introduce themselves in the same way, “Sir, I am so-and-so, Professor of such-and-such. I studied in India at such-and-such institution and came to US to do my PhD at University of so-and-so. My area of research is this-or-that.” The Ambassador would look each person straight in the eye, focus on what they were saying, and ask an incisive question or make a comment—an experienced diplomat who knew how to show interest and make everyone feel special!

I was quickly thinking through what I would say. I decided to go with, “Hello Sir, welcome. I am Chaitanya, Mr. Vithal’s son. We will be meeting this evening. I look forward to talking more at that time”. After he was done with the person to the left of me, he turned to me, planted himself squarely in front of me, and looked me straight in the eye. Before I could unleash my lines, he said, “Arrey, tu to Seshu ka bachha hai!”

Abid uncle, friend of my father and favorite student of my grandfather, had a slightly different equation with my mother, Seshu. Given that my father was himself not a very flamboyant guy she may not have approved of this bon vivant who seemed to spend far too much time with her husband in the early years after their marriage. As a newlywed, she viewed his frequent visits as time stolen away from her new husband! There was something about Abid Hussain’s urbane style and demeanor, and how his presence seemed to influence my father’s behavior, that seemed to bother her.

So, what do you say to the Indian Ambassador to the US who has the President of your university and Dean of your college in tow and says to you in pukka Hyderabadi Urdu, “Tu to Seshu ka bachha hai!”, during formal introductions!

All my practiced lines went out of the window! All I could muster was, “Hello, Uncle. Kaise hain, aap?” And he might have said something like, “Hello beta, how are you? Vithal kaisa hai? We will talk later”…or something along those lines. And, as he stepped to the right to meet the next person, I thought I detected a knowing look on his face, as if to say, “don’t worry, kiddo, I’ve got your back!”

Abid Hussain was a debonair, elegant, handsome, charismatic individual. That day, with his thick graying hair brushed back and worn long in the back, he looked every bit the part! To know him was to be mesmerized by him! For example, after my wife Sundari and I met with him in Ann Arbor, he invited us to spend a couple of days with him and Mrs. Hussain at the Ambassador’s residence in Washington DC. He regaled us with his Urdu poetry and many stories over an elegant Hyderabadi dinner with delicate kababs prepared by his cook from Hyderabad.

By the time I turned up at the wine and cheese reception in the evening, the word was out among the faculty that I had a personal connection to the Indian Ambassador—I had a feeling that Abid uncle was thinking, mission accomplished! He was already there at the reception, encircled by a group of Indian faculty—with a glass of wine in hand. I walked up to him. He immediately pulled me in, put his arm around my shoulder, and leaned on me, as if we were old friends!

“Iska baap was one of the smartest officers in the country.” He told an eager bystander. Someone asked, so you knew his father well? “Arrey, iska baap hi nahin, I know his entire family. Iska dada bhi. His grandfather was my mentor”. And then he proceeded to tell the group how he was not great at academics in college and generally liked to get into all sorts of trouble. However, my grandfather would bail him out. It was he who encouraged Abid uncle to sit for the IAS exams. Abid uncle felt that his entire career was propelled forward thanks to that support from my grandfather.

“Vithal se kitnay baar bola mai, tu Hyderabad chhod ke Dilli aja. You can contribute so much to the country from Delhi. Lekin woh Hyderabad kabhi bhi nahi chhoda.”

He then proceeded to add, “Hyderabad mai bolte na, ek baar Gandipet ka pani piya to wahan se nahi nikal sakthe!”

One astute Indian colleague asked, “Sir, to phir aap wahan se kaise nikal gayen?”

Without missing a beat, Ambassador Hussain's instant reply, “Bhai, mein to beer peethey peethey nikal gaya!”

Chaitanya K. Baru is Senior Advisor, US National Science Foundation, Washington DC.