The Lion in winter

May KS continue to dispense malice towards one and all for many more years, writes Pavan K Varma.

I first met Khushwant Singh (KS) on a cold winter morning in January 1987. He was sitting wrapped in a blanket without his turban in his sitting room, and much to my surprise, reading the manuscript of my first book - a biography of Mirza Ghalib. I had finished writing the book, but had found no publishers, and was returning to New York, where I was posted then, a bit disconsolate. HD Shourie, the redoubtable octogenarian and founder of Common Cause in Delhi, whom I knew well, suggested I meet Khushwant. 'He is very accessible to first time authors', he said, and gave me his number. When I called, KS simply said: 'Come tomorrow at 10:30 in the morning'.

Khushwant had been given the manuscript by his son-in-law Ravi Dayal, who was the editor then of Oxford University Press. Oxford liked the book but couldn't say when they could publish it. Khushwant recommended the book to a new publishing house just opening shop in India-Penguin India. The book was published by Penguin, and went on to do very well. Naturally, as a writer, my debt of gratitude to KS is boundless.

A few weeks after Ghalib had come out, KS called Renu and me for drinks. His

home is the only one I know where outside the door is a notice: 'Please don't ring the bell if you are not expected'. The timings for his invitations are notoriously inflexible. He has his drink-Scotch with ice and soda-at 7 pm sharp, and expects his guests not to be late. At 8 pm your time is up, and if you don't leave you are politely told to. KS eats by 9 pm and is asleep by 9:30. He wakes up at 4 in the morning, makes himself a cup of tea, puts out milk in a saucer for the stray cats, puts on the radio, and reads the newspapers until the rest of the world wakes up. Until recently he was very particular about his exercise-tennis at the Gymkhana, a swim at the Golf Club or a long walk in Lodhi Gardens.