The post-India moment

It has happened before. This feeling is not at all new. However, this time is more acute, more penetrating and intense. I hate myself. My luck, my wealth, my 10 pairs of shoes, my 80 EUR perfume and my 3 iPods. Landed from India in London and I felt incredibly bizarre. The plane was full of second-generation Indians who today are British and eat, behave and are like myself. Western. I had some (pretty strong) negative transference towards them, they looked to me as the lucky ones, the ones who were fortunate enough to be born in a country where vending machines work, floors are clean, airports are filled with Bally, Prada, Pink and Burberry stores and people overeat and own too many pairs of shoes. I hated myself first and I hated them. I am aware this is an unfounded, totally subjective negative reaction product of my heart and not of my brain… each of those individuals has a story behind. I do too. Moreover, in Brigade Road in Bangalore people also accumulate shoes and I bet some expensive high-end store will soon move in and the world will have a happy Pizza Hut face here and there.

I can’t believe how things are so unevenly distributed: I am counting 15 (15!) rubbish bins around me. 15 bins for plastic, cans, liter and paper in about 100 sq. meters. In Delhi I walked for 20 minutes before I found a bin where to throw a banana skin. Environment is a luxury good, though. Other simple things are equally unfairly distributed around the world: windows closed and are clean, door handles work, toilets flush, lights work and all this while nobody seems to be working at all. In any Indian station you would see a battalion of workers doing very little because very little can be done. They do not have tools, construction materials or incentive to work. It goes like the old communist joke: you make us think you are working and we will make you believe we are paying you. I read somewhere that giving construction-kind of jobs to poor people in India (paying them between $1 or $2 per day) could be sometimes seen as not only a way to help them earning a salary but also of reminding them where their place in society is: filling potholes, redoing river banks…

Comments

Metchosin Gypsy said…
You remind me of when I came back to Victoria after working and living in Jaffna for the year. My first week back I attended the Symphony Splash festival downtown on the inner harbour and was in dismay by the number of people gorging on every type of food possible. Amazing how we can change our mind, attitudes, and actions so quickly.

Love you Macha xx

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