SHRABANI Basu has landed what many authors can only dream of – that golden ticket to the big screen, with her non-fiction novel Victoria and Abdul hitting cinemas last weekend, starring the indestructible Judi Dench.

Unlike some authors, she was thrilled with the final film representation of her remarkable story of the unlikely friendship between Queen Victoria and her Indian attendant.

Although she was given a consultation role, there is always a risk when an author loses their artistic control, especially as a credible historian. But Shrabani wears the conflict between academic research and history as entertainment lightly.

“I think it’s about 80 percent true to my book; all the major facts are there, they just tweaked a few incidences here and there,” she said.

“I’m happy it was made with light-hearted moments for a popular audience, as that’s what will draw people in and it’s important the story gets told.”

“And if they want all the details, they can buy my book,” Shrabani chuckled.

What initially struck me about the story was how something so unusual had previously been missed in a such a well-studied field. But Shrabani explained that Abdul hadn’t been missed so much as dismissed.

“He is mentioned but in a very negative light – he is shown to have manipulated his way to the top,” she said.

“Abdul was facing a lot of racism, so if you just go official accounts, of course he will look bad.”

“But nobody looked at Victoria’s Hindustani journals.”

The fact that Queen Victoria learnt Urdu at all is telling, but even more so is the level of respect and intimacy revealed in these personal accounts.

Shrabani first started researching the story after seeing Abdul’s portrait all over Victoria’s Obsorne House.

“He was everywhere and he wasn’t depicted as a servant; he was obviously someone important.”

“Their letters had been burnt, so not a good start for a biographer, but if they were burnt I thought there must be something there.”

Despite these unpromising beginnings, Shrabani pushed on, and how glad she must be that she did.

“When I found Abdul’s diary, it was like finding gold dust; it was something that was meant to be buried,” she said.

After four years of researching and writing – determined to get it right, the book was released in 2011. Last Sunday she told the story again to a captivated audience in a talk to a packed hall in Blackfriar’s Priory in Gloucester. If the film is as entertaining as she was, it is certainly worth a watch.

She took us back to the “Summer of love 1887” when two Indian servants were given as ‘presents’ to the Queen.

“They were mainly ornamental, so there was a bit of objectification at that stage, but this was rapidly about to change,” she began.

Within a year Abdul was her Munshi (teacher) not her servant, and increasingly her closest confidant. The story follows this special relationship, the humorous chaos that ensues and the increasingly desperate opposition of the royal household.

Alike all colonial-era stories, the film is not without its critics. Some have accused the movie of ‘whitewashing’ Britain’s imperialism. Shrabani, whose family felt the after-effects of partition first-hand, is somewhat bewildered by this.

“This is absurd!” she said. “This was the first and only time in history that a young Indian was at the centre of the English court.”

“The whitewashing was when Abdul was deleted from history; now his voice has been heard.”

She disagrees with objections that she is too kind in her representation of Queen Victoria.

“The dark side of imperialism is all around them in the racism of the court. And we are not being rose-tinted about the administration.”

“But I think people are confusing the monarchy with the administration. Queen Victoria was a multicultural example for others; she called out what she called racialism.”

“It is the truth, why should we bury this?” she said.

This is a new side to the queen, previously unseen. But the public have already fallen in love with the passionate young Victoria in the recent ITV series. This audience has every reason to move onto Victoria and Abdul.

“In her old age she had that same feisty spirit,” Shrabani said.

But be warned, for those looking for an uplifting story, the ending is not a happy one.

Within hours of Queen Victoria’s funeral, any evidence of her relationship with her Munshi began to be seized and burnt and Abdul was deported back to India like a common criminal.

He was so erased from history that his grave was overgrown and his family didn’t even know where he was buried, until Shrabani tracked them down.  

Thankfully, this fascinating story has been recovered from the depths of the past.

Victoria and Abdul is currently in the cinemas and a new edition of the book by Shrabani Basu, has been published by The History Press to accompany the film.