Heathrow’s morning light slips through Ben Kingsley’s curtains as he reaches for a mug of chai rather than tea—an homage, perhaps unconscious, to Bombay’s humid dawns that his grandfather once witnessed. Half the world away, Derek O’Brien is surveying the traffic in Kolkata, the driverless trams rattling like ghosts of British empire machines.
What unites these two men—one a knighted thespian of screen, the other a firebrand parliamentarian—is a shared appellation: Anglo‑Indian. It is a name that carries history’s weight in every vowel—a vessel of centuries and cultures, colonisations and conversations, bloodlines and boundaries.
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