Jilling Estate Part II: Meet the hosts

Before I start talking about the amazing things I did and saw while on Jilling Estate, I want to tell you all about my idiosyncratic and utterly delightful hosts, the Lalls.

Meet the famous Steve Lall

 

 

Every guest that I met while staying at Jilling mentioned that s/he had come to meet "the famous Steve Lall". Even Karthik, when I asked him how he met Nandini, told me that he'd come as a visitor to Jilling Estate in hopes of meeting the famous Steve Lall. So I asked Karthik what made his father-in-law so famous.

"Well, around these parts he's quite famous as a conservationist and larger than life personality," Karthik said. "You've heard the story about him shooting at poachers, right? And choosing to go live in the wilderness, especially considering his elite background and the life he was bred for, makes him quite an unusual character."

What is the famous Steve Lall's elite background and the life he was bred for? Well, according to Karthik, Steve Lall's father was a powerful sahib (I think that's the word he used), the governor of an Indian state and friend to the ruling families of India. When the Shah of Iran and Prince Phillip each came to visit India, Nandini's grandpa took them hunting . . . with little Steve in tow of course.

Steve himself told me this story: "There was Prince Phillip and my father, posing amongst the hundreds of ducks they'd shot. It was a total massacre. But some of the ducks weren't dead--merely wounded and in pain. So I went around snapping necks of the ducks--a mercy killing. My father got quite angry at me for making such a spectacle in front of the Prince. He said it was dishonorable to kill a sitting duck."

Little Steve was sent to the best British-style schools available to prepare him for the elite life. But after a speckled career in the Air Force, Steve married the "wrong" woman, was disowned by his family (though, I guess they re-owned him eventually), and eventually moved into the Jilling wilderness. But more on that story later.

I think Steve Lall is what would happen if a non-misogynistic Ernest Hemmingway and Santa Clause got together and had a love child who was then educated in a Roald Dahl book. And to back of that assertion, here are some of the stories that Steve Lall told me about himself over the course of the weekend.

- about his young life in boarding school: "There were 5 boys bullying a younger fellow for being gay or some such poppycock. So I defended the boy and got into a fight with his tormentors. I took on all 5 of them at once! But, of course they thrashed me. They tied me down, stripped me naked, and covered me with shoe polish--which, by the way when it dries and contracts, stings like hell! But I never told any of the teachers who had thrashed me so those boys then began to respect me. I was never a sneak."

- about his older life in boarding school: "All of the teachers were having a meeting or something. My friend and I peed into two balloons and launched them at the table. My friend missed, but I was born to be a fighter pilot. Splash! My pee balloon hit the middle of the table. But, I waited around to see it hit and the teachers all saw me. Boy, that was the beating of my life."

- about his life as a fighter pilot: "I had no respect for authority and a great love of dogs--which two things got me into trouble often. I would let my dog come to the mess table and sit in the place reserved for officers--and refuse to move him. But I loved that dog. The first time I was ever court-martialed it was because I had taken the dog up in the fighter jet with me. I had made her special safety straps and off we went across India! Doing spirals and barrel rolls! She had a great time."

- about fighting bears: "One time I was out in the fields at dusk  and was attacked by a Himalayan grizzly bear--the most ferocious in the world. She actually took a swipe at me! But I had my gun and shot her. She was so close to me that the blast from the gun singed her fur. Can you imagine?"

- about death: "My dog was a great companion, but when she got too old to run around and do the things she loved it was time. We walked up to a beautiful place on the mountain where we said our goodbyes before I shot her. That's how I want to go. Actually, I have my grave already dug up there." (Editor's note: this is true. I've seen the grave.)

To fill our your mental picture of Steve Lall, this is a man who loves jazz music and old movies, who thinks its "very sensible" that I would want to live with a boyfriend before marriage, who fought in two wars, who drops archaic britishisms in his speech, and who owns two or three motorcycles which he drives around on extended road trips when the mood strikes. He's pretty much amazeballs.

Meet Pavati Lall, a Disney princess witch doctor

Nandini's mom Pavati is from the area around Jilling. She's a farmer, a chef extraordinaire, a teller of gruesome tails aimed at convincing her children not to do foolish things, and a witch doctor.  (But apparently she doesn't witch doctor anymore because it took to much of her energy and the family asked her to stop before she drained herself completely). After seeing her work with animals, I'm also fairly convinced she's an undercover Disney princess, and I offer the below photograph of her chilling with a baby deer as proof.

 

Pavati speaks broken English, though it's better than she thinks it is (and, certainly better than my Hindi). As an uneducated village girl she was, apparently, totally unsuitable to be the wife of a governor's son--at least Steve's parents certainly thought so. But one day Steve invited Pavati out to hunt and they came across an enormous buck. Steve reached for his gun, but before he could even aim properly Pavati had shot the animal through the heart, pulled out a giant knife, and began to skin it. Karthik told me: "Steve says that's the moment he fell in love."

And to complete your picture of Pavati, this is a woman who wears a sari while scampering up a plum tree or mucking out a cow shed, who was constantly trying to stuff me with food, who showed no reluctance in chatting with me despite the language barrier, who took her whisky straight, and who insisted on blessing me formally before I left the house.

So, those were my hosts for the weekend.

And just 'cause, here's another puppy photo. Awwwwww!