Challo Hindustan!!! Where?

At times I do not have time or patience to write a proper post and therefore I end up with some outlines destined to be stored in my laptop till better times. There is a decent amount of those drafts by now; and from time some relevant occasion may make me get back to a draft and revise it. So it happened with this one that I started on February, 2 and that got its second birth very recently.

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Today got to know about the book called “How the other half lives”. It was written by Jacob A. Riis in 1890 about the slums in New York where half of city population used to live at that time… I do not want to look like one of my teachers who was discussing the book “Why Russia is not America”: the chap got inspired by the title so much that it made him elaborate on why Russia is not the States for hours. Yet, when confronted with my question if he actually read the book he replied definite “no”. I haven’t read “How the other half lives” but I definitely love the title. It truly goes for India so well.

I spent this night at Kanak’s house in Chanakyapuri. This is an area where most of the embassies and governmental offices are co-located. The morning after I was walking to my bus-stop that was a bit away from the house and that was enough to grasp the essence of Chanakyapuri. It occurred to me there were way less pedestrians on the streets as people mostly drive Ambassadors or fancy foreign cars with blue diplomatic or “Government of India” number plates on wide and clean roads), no crying street vendors, no one-roomed food and snacks shops, no rush, less traffic. It did not resemble my Lajpat Nagar or any other area I pass on the way to work where people fight for right to live this day, making it through the crowds of people, clouds of dust and clutters of vehicles. Just last night I was telling Kanak that all the neighborhoods are the same (equally hectic and dusty) in this country. And I did not believe when Kanak replied, “Ooooo….They are not”. I got it this morning – neighborhood is not neighborhood.

Last night we had a party at a spacious, luxuriously bourgeois and desolate roof terraces at one of the houses in Chanakyapuri. The terrace filled with tubs with big and small pot plants around the periphery, The dust (oh, in this city no escape) naturally accumulates on the plants and the pots, and the botanic garden makes the whole terrace look even more colonial: the place is not meant for desperate cleaning, but for indulging a lazy smoke or resting in the hammock or throwing a party with a bonfire in the dark. This desolate terrace and the flat with very composite, very organic and very tasteful interior create the feeling of luxury – not a glossy one meant to make a statement, but the immanent and self-sufficient one that just exist and therefore does not have to manifest itself. Both the composite flat desolate terrace are having their own life – irrespective to the people living there – graciously letting the maid, who comes every morning, to clean them.

Kanak invited a bunch of AIESEC trainees and his Indian friends over. I got to socialize with some of the latter. This is not European hanging out, people, where you just move around and have a chat with anyone. I’ve been to quite a few Indian parties here and it was the first time at Kanak’s I got to speak to some guys who I met right here. Otherwise, gender special segregation persists. In the traditional North-Indian families where purdah (to put it really broadly – separation of worlds of men and women) is practiced women run their activities in a separate part of their house where men are hardly allowed. One might realized how strong the traditions are if even young guys in such metropolises as Delhi would shy away from the girls they do not know. And girls would most likely do the same; even when everyone gets introduced to each other. But the guy I was chatting with just got back from his exchange in Europe, so no wonder he picked up those liberal manners of meeting girls just like that. Another guy I got to speak to just got back from the States where he worked for 6-7 years.

The two returnees were having a vivid discussion that I joined too. And here the performance started. The one returned from the States said that when he had left country 6-7 years back there had been no job perspectives. And now he observes Indian economy truly rising and he is back to start up his own business. The other one, about to graduate, told that in the currently booming economy the situation with jobs had tremendously improved.

- So, is it like everyone gets job?
- Yes, absolutely everyone gets job.
- Have you already got job yourself?
- Yes, at GE Money.
- What is the package now like?
- Well, the package is really ok. I’ll get XXX per annum.
- And so on and so forth in the similar spirit

It is not only Indian economy that rocks, but Indian masculinity does too. Nothing wrong, just amusing to observe its harmless forms. But let me touch upon some other issue before I start elaborating on the “how cool and westernized we are” phenomenon getting so spread in India.

Discussions about booming Indian economy prevail in the discourse of middle and upper-class. Probably, because they are the most likely (if not – only) categories to enjoy the fruits on the boom. GDP growing at almost two-digit rate, abundance of construction sites (both residential and business), MNCs coming, BPOs (business processing units, product of outsourcing) mushrooming. All this changes have nothing to do with the millions of people making their living by running a small shop where they sell food prepared right here. Not only right here would they sell the food, but also would eat, sleep and take bath. As the “American” guy said, “We have so many people. So if some of them die, it’s ok. Well, we’ll get less maids in this case, but still.. ” If this is an opinion hold by people from the elite who have assumingly been around and got exposed to different societal models… then I seriously wonder what kind of future this country has.

This arrogance combined with a desperate try to appear as ultimately Westernized is, according to my observations, a disease affecting many people from the upper-class lot. Well, partly I can understand the pride of people who make some decent money and therefore can now afford buying shirts by Tommy Hilfiger, dining out at TGI’s Friday and clubbing at Elevate in Noida – these and many other, unthinkable before, but available now – blessings of the Western civilization. The same developments take place in Russia these days. Yet, what about those who would not even have an access to the emerged earning opportunities by the virtue of their social origin? This is not to say that driving a car bought by your dad and doing a job not at least obtained thanks to the network your uncle should not give you a pleasure and satisfaction, but al least you should not be mislead when elaborating on the prospects of the booming Indian economy. If your social position helps you to enjoy many of those, this is fine. Do not be ignorant of the fact it does not hold for many people. though. Look outside the window of your flat, your car, your office – can’t you see? Scared to see?

And when this arrogance gets coupled with “how cool and westernized we are” behavior it appears disgusting. As I foreigner I often become a witness of s small-scale performances held in this spirit in front of me. It is so evident when people, addressing you, change accent and melody of the language to sound British, overly British. When girls would be discussing various branded show-rooms (the way they call branded retail outlets here) giving meaningful looks your side. When an Indian guy or a girl would be roaming around with you and introducing you to the friends taking particular pride for socializing with a foreigner. I am lucky to have Indian friends for whom the very thought of such behavior would appear weird, but the mainstream remains the mainstream.

This makes me laugh as the irony is that I am not really worth the effort put in the performance. My laptop in the Samsonite bag, Diesel jeans, Mango t-shirt and Benetton bag should not be misleading. This is not any sort of luxury, this is a somewhat standard most Europeans can afford. There is no major statement coming with the wearing the mentioned brands as anyone else can do that too. Yet, here in India with my NGO-types salary I cannot afford the lifestyle Indian young people from middle and upper-class are having. And then the people who have got everything (else?) dieing to get a pair of Levi’s pants this is not even funny. Very pity instead, Inferior complex, it is called. One may talk about the perspectives of the booming Indian economy, but those talks are nothing but rending the air until Indian upper strata gets rid of the arrogance towards “the other half” and the inferiority complex towards the West.