My Childhood In Southall
A Memory of Southall.
My parents were born in India. My grandfather settled in Africa and had a good job. When my father got married he stayed Africa where all my brothers and sisters were born. My dad was a carpenter by trade; he arrived in Britain on his own with close relatives in 1962 for work as a carpenter to build new houses. He worked very hard in the snow, often travelling to London. They lived in rented accommodation in various addresses in Southall. My father did not want us to come to England as it was too cold in the winter but my mother wanted to join him, so he sponsored the 7 of us and we joined our father in 1962. At first we lived at 23 Beaconsfield Road sharing an overcrowded house. I remember the cold winters and the paraffin heater that mum used to keep us warm with and often she would put a pan on top and pop some popcorn for us. My father was a very religious man who played the Indian organ (which he made himself).. after work he would teach us to play different Indian Instruments. Southall had just a hand full of Asian families, but every Sunday dad would take us to the Shackleton Hall and the Bingo Hall on Beaconsfield Road to perform for Holy Service. As there was no Gurdwara in Southall, family used to meet in each other’s house to get together for Holy Service and meals were cooked by different Asian families for Sikh functions. My father kept active in contributing to the Sikh regions get together with the small community. Often every weekend, he would take us to various halls or small Gurdwara’s around Britain. My elder brother mastered the Tabla (India drums) and the other brother mastered various other instruments. Today Southall is the home to also the Largest Gurdwara in Europe.
My dad bought our first house on Townsend Road, which had no heating and no bathroom and in winter there would be ice hanging from the windows. Townsend Road is our beautiful childhood memories. Everyone was living on our road from the old to the young, to a road full of English people and a handful of Asian. There was a teenage family next door, very friendly teenagers... one died in a motorbike accident. Jacky was very nice – in about 1968 she was a teenager but moved with her family. Would love to meet her again.... Then on the other side, there was an old English lady and her very old husband, the most wonderful people that we have ever met in our lives, she was my nan and he was my granddad. There wasn’t a moment when l she would not come out to greet us. Next door to them was her daughter and her children were our best friends, Colleen and Nancy were the best - we never had a dull moment. There was also this middle-aged lady living further down the road, she was Brown Owl, no one could have been as nice as Brown Owl. She would come around and take me to Brownies.. she even took me on the bus to buy my Brownie uniform. Thanks to this kind lady who would always take me to Beaconsfield school to the Brownies.. where l learned lot of skills like sewing. The only memory l have is a newspaper cutting with Brown Owl standing behind me when l was chosen out of hundreds of other Brownies to celebration their 60th anniversary in about 1968. My father was so proud of me that he kept this newspaper cutting in his dairy.... some of the people in the photo are probably dead but the young girl cutting the cake with me is probably married with children too now. We lived in harmony in Southall, the streets were safe and everyone helped each other. My mother once sent my sister and me to the local grocery shop which was at the top of Townsend Road, two sisters worked there and when l went to pick some fruit to buy, she slapped me on my hand. We didn’t know what we did wrong? My brothers went to Featherstone High School. My father continued to do a lot of voluntary work towards his religion, my father died in about 1968 after which the first Ramgaria Gurdwara was built on Oswald Road. With their music talent within the community my brothers formed their own music group with various other groups around the borough. Often they would perform to entertain the Asian community at local venues and concerts. At one concert that l personally attended at Featherstone School.. there was an Asian talent contest. There was a table
full of trophies which all went to my brothers for the various music talent. l would love to hear from anyone who remembers these good old days. To date now various music talent has stemmed and is the music stream/ industry. From about 1969 to 1974, I personally went to Dormers Well High School, where l experienced love and also racial remarks (which l had never seen before in my life) and which often happened in the school playgrounds but we felt safe with girls of our race. l remember l became friends with an English girl who knew l was the best in netball, she became my bodyguard and protected me and she was twice as tall as me and her name was Carol. On the other hand I remember another girl who would come up to the Asian girls and tell us to take some tablets to stop the Asians from having babies. Besides all this ... school was fun.
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Having been born and educated in South Africa, I left and came to England. On an outing to the Tower of London, I was shocked to pick up a pamphlet headed, "The Execution of the Traitors" and to read about my ancestor in that vein. I felt wronged that he was characterised as a "traitor", when in fact, his loyalty to his king and his country, Scotland, was resolute and strong.
In the late 1980s, my wife and I and our children visited Scotland, made our way to New Galloway, and found the ruins of Kenmure Castle. The first thing I noticed, which made the hair rise on the back of my neck, was a carving in limestone over the main entrance, of the very coat of arms that had been passed down to me as a child. Our reception in the town was a great surprise, too: a lady we spoke to, commented, "Of course the other fellow came, too!" and when questioned, explained that a young American named Maxwell had also visited. He was a descendant of the Maxwell who rode out with Viscount William Kenmure, to the Battle of Preston Pans, where both were taken prisoner, brought to the Tower of London and later executed. This young man, she said, had found his ancestor's grave and frequently visited it, standing beside the grave with hat in hand.
It was after those terrible events that the family are believed to have fled to Ireland.
My grandmother once asked me, "Are you also a Scottish soldier?" she smiled, but did not elaborate. My father, too, was very good with horses, he lived his life with horses, became a racehorse trainer and later a breeder of thoroughbred racehorses. I am constantly amazed at how certain strains run through families, down many generations.
I established contact with Tony Kenmuir, of Edinburgh; he had carried out research on our family history. According to him, after the execution of Lord Kenmure, and the confiscation of his lands, the family were scattered and it took only a generation or two for those surviving to be eking out a living by coal mining. There are still Kenmuirs living at Kilmarnock and the Kenmuirs are now well established in Canada, the United States and South Africa.