Blowing Over The Dust

I recently read the article A Dust Over India by Mark Manson in the online PostMasculine. Evidently the author who was on his first trip to India could not have found a more god-aweful place to be at and decided to spew his bile in an article that paints the country in every shade of black that could possibly exist.

I'm usually perfectly nonchalant about articles such as the aforementioned. One man's experience can never be the base for your impression of an entire country. But there seemed to a certain rage in Mark's writing that got me thinking.

Sarcastic or not, incredible it is

As I write this article, I am cautiously toeing the line between accepting the horrendous truth of India's abject poverty and pollution and voicing a defence for my country from the criticism of a foreigner. I formulated most of this article on a similar flight as Manson, flying into New Delhi in the middle of the night and it hit me just how incredulous it must be for a first time visitor to see India and try to make sense of the utter mess that surrounds you the minute you land on Indian soil. IGI International Airport would have you believe you have just landed in the prima donna of the Orient but as you make your way into the city, shabby shopfronts,  rickety billboards and whole families sleeping on the pavements under torn blankets spell out CONTRADICTION in big, bold letters.

"And along with the garbage, there is an unending stream of humanity, " says Manson, highlighting two of the primary glaring issues the country faces today. Interestingly, at this time, I was in the middle of reading Khushwant Singh's "Train To Pakistan" and Iqbal, the young visitor to Mano Majra in the book seemed to be immersed in similar thoughts. I quote from Singh:

"Iqbal stood up and looked all round. … The whole country was like an overcrowded room. What could you expect when the population went up by six every minute--- five millions every year! It made all planning in industry or agriculture a mockery. Why not spend the same amount of effort in checking the increase in population? But how could you, in the land of the Kama Sutra, the home of phallic worship and the son cult?"    (Train to Pakistan, p.45)

As you walk down the streets trying to maintain some semblence of human courtesy, you will be leered at, jostled and harassed by the milling crowds that seem to gather at every corner for no apparent reason! And if you are unlucky enough to have to travel by public transportation, good luck getting on the bus or train because:

a) You might just be shoved off by a burlier bloke(s)
b) Unless you have the wit and cunning of an average Indian, you will invariably end up on the wrong route owing to the fact that logic is often not a factor while planning public amenities in India. Or keeping time, for that matter.

India moulds you to be smart as a way of life. Because unless you are smart and/or have a rich father, you're probably face-down in a gutter somewhere.

Potholes on the roads be damned, as long as the 7-feet wide stretch honours a national hero who "gave his life for the dream of an independent India", everything else is alright. In the heartland of the country, electricity, clean water and sanitation are still not amenities that can be taken for granted. But recently, in an incredible turn of events, India, charitable as she is, decided to donate $10 Billion as bailout money to the Eurozone defaulters Greece, Spain and Italy out of the coffers that Indian taxpayers fill. This, while inflation is causing food, petrol and utility costs to spiral out of control. There are cars and no roads. Cheap labour and closed factories. The practice of casteism is illegal but there exists a reservation system to provide back-entries to institutions, governments and facilities to a section of society. Major roads have no traffic signals and a hapless policemen tries to control rash driving, while the young driver at the wheel asserts his manliness by flouting all the traffic rules without being pulled over even once.

If you try to analyse the baffling mess that surrounds you every minute of every day while you are in India, it will make you want to rip out your hair or in a completely other kind of reaction, want to start handing out 10 Rupee notes to every beggar on the street, deriving from Manson again. Yet, for the sake of the bravehearts who are born here and strive to make a livelihood in one of most annoyingly difficult countries to survive in, look beyond the dust and the haze. India's predicament, in my opinion stems directly from an identity crisis. Our long-standing "Indian" heritage comes with baggage - food habits, lifestyle and traditions that rule every aspect of community life. Yet, as we strive for modernity the way the western world deems fit, we must adopt alien traditions, a lifestyle and system of governance that does not agree with our own history. I conjecture that the western model may not be the right one for us. We have fundamentally different highlight issues:
a) Our population, which is ridiculously disproportionate to the land area available
b) The weather, which is hot, humid and renders people comparatively inefficient
c) Our traditional trades - agriculture, spices, cloth and metals which seem to be in the backburner in modern     times

Yet, the most discouraging of all is the lack of hope for a better tomorrow among those lucky enough to have much more than the basic roti-kapda-makaan in the rigmarole that is Indian life. Bright Indian youth, well versed with Chomsky and often quoting Kafka over an evening cup of coffee at the posh coffee place for well-to-do youngsters, would rather stretch out casually leaving out an occasional "No hope for India, dude. I'm taking the first plane out of here after college" remark, drawing guffaws from his fellows, than spend a while actually pondering over its problems and coming up with solutions. Its much easier to be critical. Even easier to simply escape.

What is the solution then? I'm still working on it but for starters, I wish everyone would:

a) Throw trash only in bins.
b) Stop paying bribes. No matter how hard it is to do things the right way.
c) Recognise the dignity of labour.
d) Try to teach one poor soul how to read and write. Think of it as your one selfless good deed.

To other visitors to India like Manson, some of whom I've met and who've narrated stories of how they were ripped off their money and harassed terribly, there is only this to say: "Its a huge country and you'd have to travel extensively to uncover its true essence". I guess the solution to our problem lies in laying bare the real Indian soul that has embraced, for centuries, people and cultures from all over the world as its own, the most peaceful of the ancient civilisations.