I've never been with a foreigner

Last month a close friend, just back from a holiday to the Queen’s land, happened to mention a certain young man. At the time it didn’t seem like much, we laughed about it as she gave me an account of her last evening in London, deftly manoeuvring through the details. Only one sentence stayed with me – even long after the receiver lay rested on the cradle – “I’ve never been with a foreigner before.” I think this wound goes far deeper in the Indian psyche than merely wanting to share intimacy. Call it what you will, a post-colonial hangover, an awe for the White Man, but it’s prevalent even now. And you will notice it in places you wouldn’t expect it too. Like how the guards will not frisk foreigners in the malls; or the wider, creepier smile they fawn over them with. 

Even when it comes to pronouncing names and words that our Indian tongues don’t recognise, we make it our life’s duty to ensure we roll them at the right syllable and spring on anyone who says them even a bit wrong. Yet, these are the same people (often even you and I), who will smile when their NRI cousins 

mutate – no mutilate – their names at the behest of their habit.

But it doesn’t end there; take for instance, one of the biggest contributors to our GDP, Bollywood. It’s fraught with women who enter the country as tourists and sometimes girlfriends of stars and end up turning into supposed A-listers, without as much as an iota of talent. At best, it is the most misconstrued implementation of ‘Atithi Devo Bhava’. I’d like to see someone pull this off elsewhere on the globe. For instance, remind me again of the Bengali actress that replaced Audrey Tautou in French cinema, or the sultry South Indian who turned into the heartthrob of the Stanislavsky theatre. Exactly. It’s just one of those things we are taught to shrug off saying “it happens only in India.” Like the other day, I was reading a piece in the newspaper of how someone who calls himself the King of Bollywood has decided to launch a certain Brazilian model and has hence assured the media she will first learn Hindi. It’s shameful for a country that happens to be known for its beautiful women, to look beyond its geographical borders to find suitable film poster material. How else do you explain this phenomenon of ‘top actresses’ in a country whose language they can’t speak, if not for our obsession for foreigners.

Then there are certain actresses who insist that they are paired strictly with foreign male models in ad commercials. Speaking of which, I’ve always belched at that short-cut companies and even ad agencies take; nearly a quick-fix formula to make a brand ‘premium’ overnight – simply use foreigners in it. Even cosmetic and denim brands that harp about the real beauty or curviness of Indian women, use female models who have nothing Indian except for their bank accounts. The same people who are no more than routinely attractive, and at times even merely ordinary in their own country, lionized so blatantly in ours.

But please don’t mistake these sentiments for jingoism;

they're just questions a confounded mind seeks answers to.

Help me out here. Who will take a country that lacks self-confidence seriously? Who will look into a mirror for anything unique? And speaking for a nation that moved into the 21^st century over a decade ago, it’s high time our collective consciousness did the same.

A promise well broken

This is a different kind of story.

One that doesn't spiral into its moral, but one that simply begins from it.

"A promise is easier made that kept."

Over a year ago, my parents bought a portable internet device. You know,

it's one of those plug-n-play sorts that occupies one of the USB ports, rather

aimlessly. The eager salesman had promised them an up to 3.1 Mbps speed.

A year later, we're still waiting for that to happen, but that's another story altogether.

Though my folks have been quite happy with its performance, very recently the inevitable occured.Webpages refused to open a fortnight before the bill was due. So we tried again, same outcome.What followed was a series of disconnections and reinstallations. Still no result.

So we chose the bravest of the lot (read, the person with the most time on their hands) and had him call customer support.

"We'll answer your call within 5 rings" rang the advertisement in my mind as i waited for a human voice (Promise broken). A hapless soul finally answered, I say hapless because I knew my way around the bill better than him, and that's never a good sign. He felt the need for placing me on hold every time I asked him a question. Once he forgot to hit the button before he yelled out to his supervisor - "Yaar Vijay, kya karu" (What should I do, Vijay?).

He promised that he'd figure it out and was indeed pleased to help me. Eventually i spoke to the supervisor, who explained, in a garble of jargon and broken english, something about an unbilled amount. He ended with an apology and a promise to help fix this. He couldn't.

So, the next day we went to the company's showroom, singled out the brightest face behind the counter, and explained everything to him, he looked into our eyes and confidently promised to help. Ten minutes later, he gave up. He directed us to customer support, and with the same level of sincerity, explained they would be able to help. So I called back, spoke to another floor supervisor, Radha, and explained the entire episode to her. She assured us she would look into the case and all the adjoining notes, confirmed our numbers on the account, and left us with a promise of calling back in 30 minutes. An hour of waiting later, I called back and demanded to speak to Radha, a name people in this centre hadn't ever heard. So over a few expletives and interspersed apologies, I was able to tell yet another person in the world how my internet had suddenly stopped working.

This was a week ago, during which we also got the number of the regional manager and called him. Having reached my limit, for both apologies and the lack of internet, I just went and made an interim payment, and have now decided to wait for the bill, and to decide whether I want to continue.

Two things I'd like to point out:

1. I'm not blaming just one organization - anyone who's ever called into any call centre will echo my sentiments.

2. If products don't live up to their promises, how can you expect its advertising and customer support to?

Wasn't respect ever on the menu?

So, as the last week before the Commonwealth Games began in Delhi,

the last leg of its humiliation also commenced.

The internet was flushed with images - inboxes, Facebook walls, news portals.

No, not of Suresh Kalmadi, though i shudder to think why he'd come to mind.

These pictures were of the 'villages' constructed, quoted by many as uninhabitable.

And so, the media enjoyed doing what they do best - to sensationalize.

Various anchors dispensing their views, officials of many countries reasoning why their teams

shouldn't bother visiting, Indian officials - adamantly, when reachable, on why they still should,

college students on why this was so typically Indian.

But amid all the furore, one voice stood out.
The voice of Mr. Lalit Bhanot, the spokesperson, who steps up to the plate, and stuns the world

with what he has to say. And I quote, "Westerners have a different sense of hygiene from ours."

He went on to say much more, but more on that later.

"Why would he generalize?" people asked. But I don't think it's as much about generalizing as it is about saying the first thing that came to his mind to placate the issue. Question is, why did the first thing that came to his mind involve shaming the country even more?

 

I mean, is the only thing we're trying to gain out of the games, revenue? And tourists? Because that's somehow supposed to explain the 30,000 crore spent (that's 77 missions to the moon if you must know).People went on to say things like India could never compare to Beijing. All of which was forgotten after the spectacle caused by the opening ceremony.

The questions that I'd like to ask:

Why can't India get rid of its corrupt politicians, who shame not only themselves, but also the rest of the country?

Does a country with people dying of hunger really need a 40 crore helium balloon?

Do Indians deserve the Commonwealth - and before you raise an eyebrow, I'll raise a question - How many days did you follow it?