Some self-declared God-fearing Calcutta (Kolkata today) residents, including British ‘expats’ expressed dismay on the sacks of rice, grain and pulses being stored in St Paul’s Cathedral.
It was within the months following the transient Indo/Pakistan hostilities (3-16 December 1971) that got here hard on the heels of the Bhola cyclone the previous yr.
Much of lower Bengal was devastated, including large tracts of shortly to be independent Bangladesh, formerly Pakistan’s East Bengal. Yet one other Bengal famine threatened. And with the onset of the monsoon the cathedral was pretty much as good a secure warehouse as any.
The man who flew within the faces of “disgusted of Calcutta” was the late Canon Subhir Biswas, dean of St Paul’s who was born in 1933 – in Germany. To my shame I had no idea of his origins, or I’d surely have put lots of twos together.
Big-hearted and charismatic, Subhir cut a splendid dash when he turned up for supper on his Harley-Davidson, complete with motor-cycling leathers.
It was Subhir who christened our second daughter, born in Calcutta on 21 December 1974. In doing so he produced a fantastic muslin baptismal shawl which he announced proudly as having been made by one in all his parishioners living in a close-by bustee (slum).
It was a fact of life in those days – probably still is – that settlements of abject poverty could be found right under the partitions of impressive mansions. A selected memory is of a giant drawing room complete with a priceless murals shielded from the weather and overlooking the slum below.
At times, the dean gave the impression to be a lonely figure. If there was a cathedral infrastructure to support his efforts it was not immediately apparent. He yawned and sighed so much, suggesting physical and mental strain.
During long dark winter evenings he would drive out in a big automotive loaded with items to be distributed to needy individuals he had identified. On one occasion he invited me along and I watched as he handed over T-shirts to young Indians shivering within the transient but damp January cold. Subhir knew their identity and will discuss them as in the event that they were neighbours – and within the Christian sense, they were.
He had a following from young Indian Christians from comparatively well-to-do families who he encouraged of their want to pursue charitable activities, but who otherwise were without inspiring leadership. Sadly, his plans for promoting their activities were probably never fulfilled.
Two years after my posting in India ended, I learned that Subhir had died. The record says that he was struck down by cancer. A very good colleague who remained at post two years after my departure considered that over-work had killed him. Or, as I even have noted repeatedly, Canon Subhir had run the great race, and had accomplished the course – in God’s eyes.
 Some self-declared God-fearing Calcutta (Kolkata today) residents, including British ‘expats’ expressed dismay on the sacks of rice, grain...){kind=link}