FLYING SIKHS

To Phoenix Square this afternoon to see "Flying Sikhs", a history of Sikh fighter pilots, presented in association with the Anglo Sikh Heritage Trail. To say that I learned things from this film that I hadn't known before would be stating the obvious - after all, what's a documentary for? I would rather say that I learned stuff that has never formed part of anything that could be described as common knowledge for people of my background. I consider myself well-educated, well-read and well-informed - definitely more so than yer average punter. So naturally I'm surprised and annoyed when I realise such things as this are missing from my knowledge set. I feel like I should know about something as important as this - and so should everyone else for that matter. Though I'm not much of a one for quoting Churchill, I do like this: "We owe our lives to those who wear the turban."

The following paragraph is taken from promotional material for this film:

"Flying Sikhs" provides an intimate portrait of Sikh pilots who valiantly contributed to British success in both World Wars. The history of the Sikhs who flew in the Royal Flying Corps, the Royal Air Force and the Indian Air Force has been forgotten, yet their bravery was recognised widely both within the armed services and the public during the dark days of the Blitz and the Japanese invasion of South East Asia. Included are interviews with the last remaining Sikh pilots from WWII. Flying Sikhs was written and directed by Navdeep Singh Kandola, an award-winning filmmaker specialising in ecology, ethnicity and Punjabi culture in a career spanning over twenty years. It is produced by the Sikh Art and Film Foundation.

On a personal note, something unexpected happens this afternoon which I find strange and pleasing in equal parts). As I enter the Phoenix, I see Rakesh Parmar (Head of Marketing here) chatting with three young Sikh women in the cafe. I go to get a drink from the bar then join them. But as I pass their little group, I hear one of the women saying something that sounds unsettlingly familiar. Hang on a minute, she's quoting directly from my blog! That made me pull up short, as you can imagine, faithful reader. On the entry for the Cultural eXchanges Launch Event (Fri 26 Feb), I noted that Rakesh had talked with me about "some interesting and unusual challenges he's faced when promoting this film within Leicester's Sikh community." These were the words that I heard this young woman use; so I had to ask her where she'd found that quote. She told me she'd googled for any reference to this film and had been led to the page with those words. I, of course, couldn't help but announce, "Well, that's my blog!" then pulled it up on my iPhone to prove it. You never know who's reading this ... I'm glad to see it's not Mr Nobody!

When I enter Screen 2, where the film is showing, I see Noel Singh (Policy Officer with Leicestershire County Council) and go sit with him. I got to know Noel during the run-up to National Inter Faith Week and have been glad to stay in contact with him since. After the film, Noel describes it as a sobering experience; that he'd heard many of these stories from older family members down through the years, and this was the first occasion on which he'd seen dosumentary evidence of people and deeds who had assumed legendary or even mythic status.

After the screening of  "Flying Sikhs" is over, another, shorter film, "The Prisoner's Song", is shown. Described as "A gripping story of sacrifice, suffering, and ongoing injustice, it tells how, in 1916, German scientists made an 80-second audio recording of a Sikh soldier captured at the Battle of Flanders during WWI and held at the Half Moon POW camp. The starving soldier, Mal Singh, yearns to return to his home in the Punjab, the "land of butter and milk." Retired Indian Col. Perminder Singh Randhawa reflects on Mal Singh's fate, and locates his descendants still living in the ancestral village, hoping to receive his long-forgotten pension. The thing that stuck in my mind most about this genuinely touching film was the description of how the original recording of Mal Singh was made, when he spoke into a cone that transmitted the vibrations of his voice, via a needle, onto an acetate disc. Then we saw Col. Perminder Singh Randhawa listening to the recording on an iPod Nano!