My Afternoon at Campbell Lane
The photos in this post were taken from RW Selmor’s menu, available on their website: https://rwselmor.com
Last Thursday, I met up with Uncle Saeed and Uncle Majid after quite some time. The last time we met up, we had lunch somewhere in Serangoon Road. Uncle Majid wasn’t impressed with the food or service so he suggested that we meet at his friend’s restaurant at Campbell Lane for some food and chit-chat.
I love walking around Little India, just immersing myself in the sights and sounds of the place. Obviously, you will agree, it has its own character.
Campbell Lane is unique in the sense that the stretch from Serangoon Road to Clive Street, bordering Little India Arcade, is cordoned off from traffic, turning it into a pleasant alley for those of us on foot. At the start of Campbell Lane where it meets with Serangoon Road, you will find a shop selling sundries, vegetables and fruits. I like to pass by just to see the bright yellow, red and green of fresh fruits and vegetables set against the dull racks that house them. From there, you can see the green sign that spells out Campbell Lane. I wonder if Campbell Lane is named after Sir Colin Campbell, who Campbellpur (Attock) in Pakistan was named after.
In any case, walking on before you reach the Indian Heritage Center, you will find shops selling clothes on the right and shops selling flowers on the left. After a few more shops selling Indian wares, jewelleries and what looks like furniture, I spot our point of our meeting, RW Selmor, at the end of Little India Arcade, right at the junction of Campbell Lane and Clive Street.
Being at the corner, the restaurant has a unique layout. On the side that faces the Indian Heritage Center, the restaurant serves snacks and confectionery. Perhaps I should have made it a point to see if they had gajar halwa, which is one of my favourites. Later as we sat down enjoying our cup of masala chai, we also ordered some pakora and samosa from that side. From where we sat, I could see the tandoor in which roti was being baked. The scent of roti baking in a tandoor brought me back to Pakistan. I couldn’t help but order myself some. It was really good.
Uncle Majid introduced us to his friend, the owner of the restaurant, a quiet unassuming man who sat at the corner of the restaurant. Apparently, he used to be in the police force before moving on to a career in law. He sat with us for a short while. He knew a number of police officers who were contemporaries of Uncle Saeed’s father, who served as a senior officer in the police force until his retirement in the 1970s.
We spoke at some length about family, people we knew, Pakistani personalities and about cricket in Singapore, which of course, Uncle Majid is always passionate about, having been a former national cricket player himself. Born in Punjab a year before the Partition, Uncle Majid moved to Malaya where his father helped his uncle to oversee a contract with the British. He was raised in Malaya but spent his formative years in Pakistan where he developed the passion for cricket. In the course of his illustrious career, he played for the Singapore Cricket Club, the Singapore Recreation Club and the Indian Association.
Sometimes friends poke fun at me for spending my afternoons with seniors but I enjoy it nonetheless for their company, and the occasional pearls of wisdom imparted onto me. In the midst of our conversations, Uncle Majid says, “Don’t be envious of other people, Abbas. What he gets has been written for him, and what you get has been written for you. Instead, work hard. You may not get what you want, but insha Allah, you will be rewarded for your hard work.”
Such advice makes my masala chai much sweeter.
PS. While waiting for Asar, I also spent some time at the Indian Heritage Center. It was my first time visiting. To put it simply, I was blown away by the exhibits. The IHC deserves a blog post on its own.
