Sunanda K Datta-Ray: In a class of their own

The confidence derived from birth and generations of ruling also produces excessive symbolic gestures of courtesy

It was a treat to sit in the Oval Room of the Hyatt Regency Hotel's Mansion block in Delhi and watch the chiffon swish and zari sparkle between rows of elegant stalls and behind boutique counters. The spectacle of royalty in profitable and socially useful trade recalled my old friend Henry, hereditary Maharajadhiraja Bahadur of Burdwan, saying many years ago when he quit his job with a British managing agency in Calcutta to dabble in business, "We started as traders 500 years ago and I've returned to our old profession!"

When Britain's Prince Philip claimed "We live over the shop" he meant the offices occupying the ground floor of Buckingham Palace. A pre-euro cartoon showed him and Queen Elizabeth in the state coach under showers of franc, deutschemark, dollar and yen notes with Prince Philip boasting "We're the only nationalised undertaking that makes a profit!" Since then Britain's royal family has taken to commerce in a big way even if Her Majesty doesn't yet charge a fat fee to pour tea from a Georgian silver teapot for tourists like the Duchess of Bedford when the family home, Woburn Abbey, went public.

Having been forced to give up luxuries like the special train and yacht and having agreed to pay some income tax, the British royal family is recouping its finances by demonstrating that trade and royalty are two sides of the same coin. Since the Chinese now seem to have more disposable cash than the Japanese, Arabs and Americans, it shouldn't surprise anyone if Prince Philip recommends (for a cut of course) 'slitty-eye' operations for the socially ambitious.

However, I can't see Henry Burdwan on what middle class folk like us would call the wrong side of the counter. But, then, Henry is by birth a titled zamindar. Being mainly sprigs of families that once ruled states like Baroda and Kashmir, Jodhpur and Tehri Garhwal, the Hyatt's brightly decked out flock were as free of complexes as hardbitten British royals.

Some intruders had also crept in. "Are you royal?" I asked in a shop advertising 'exclusive jewellery' and the elderly lady behind the counter promptly answered yes, the owner had marred Dumpy Ahmad. "You know Dumpy Ahmad?" A faint bell echoed from the Sanjay Gandhi years but a local friend whom I consulted was scathing. "Forgotten political royalty perhaps," she retorted. "Maybe even showbiz royalty since she was Miss Femina and acted in some films, but not royal in the conventional sense!"

Ah well, the exhibition was titled Royal Fables, so some flights of creative imagination were permitted. A shop called simply 'HRH' proclaimed that when the cat's away the mice play. The viceregal cat sternly forbade any prince from using the "Royal Highness" handle, which was reserved only for British royalty. The princes were similarly forbidden to flaunt a closed crown in their crests.

I couldn't complain. A genuine princess of Dhenkanal made out the cash memo for a small Dhokra Ganesh while her mother (from Wankaner I think) handed it over in a plastic bag with apologies for not having the right wrapping paper.

Two serious observations about the event. First, while Britain's aristocracy and even its royal family sell only themselves for gain, most of the royals at the Hyatt were helping to save the arts, crafts and culture of the past. Ancient skills like brass, silver and embroidery, Baria's hand block printing and Kashmir's wood and papier mache were displayed. The Baroda stall, where I bought an exquisite stole, had gorgeous weaves, traditional achars and Ravi Varma lithographs.

Second, keeping vigil at the Oval Room confirmed that the people were somehow different. I asked someone who has spent time in the princely states. Readily agreeing, he summed up the difference in one word 'arrogance'. But that is an over-simplification. There may be an element of hauteur but it's unconsciously woven into body language, not the put-on pomposity of politicians, the overweening self-importance of senior bureaucrats or even the bombast of many business tycoons. The confidence derived from birth and generations of ruling (which means interacting with people) also produces excessive symbolic gestures of courtesy.

If there's a flaw it's an excessively deferential attitude to Caucasians. But that is a national frailty. It's explained in the case of the princes by their treatment at the hands of viceregal officials. Luckily, the only whites at the exhibition earned their living from the princes. So this particular weakness was not evident at Royal Fables.