People from a third world country, backward, undeveloped, poor, uneducated, orthodox – these are some synonyms to the citizens of countries like India. If a multipartite interaction involves Americans and Indians, there is an implicit sense of superiority with the American.
The American can feel proud that his country is more developed, more modern, more technologically advanced, more powerful and so on. The Indian on the other hand, who is already angered and frustrated with the system, feels inferior, weak and backward in comparison to the American.
Ever since I’ve been reborn into my second life, I have had an opportunity to interact with various kinds of people from across the globe. In my second life, I’ve discovered that I am in no way inferior to an average American. And in some aspects, I’ve this strange sense of superiority over them.
We (referring to educated Indians living in one of the cities of India) are a collage, a fine masterpiece. Take the flour of India, mixed with salts of its culture, ethics, rituals, seasons and festivals, moistened by the water of patriotism to make the core. Put it in the oil of English education and fry till its nice and glowing. Dip it in some flavors of America, its food, its movies, its music, its way of life. Then, sprinkle some Desi music, movies and cricket. Serve it with the ketchup of globalism. That is what we are!
When I am in American company, I can talk in English, understand their ways and respond. When I am with Indians, I can talk in Hindi, connect with them and so on. This explicit difference of me being able to speak and mingle with both kinds of people gives me a sense of superiority. It tells me that I am a richer person from within. I know more traits, more cultures, more cuisines, more festivals, more languages and more ways of life than an average American.
India is diverse, its people are diverse too. The third diversity exists in each Indian himself. That of being a blend of Indian-ness, American-ness and Global. I’ll end it with a song,
Mera joota hai japani, patloon inglistani,
sar pe laal topi roosi, fir bhi dil hai hindustani !!
(TRANSLATION:
My shoe is made in Japan, the pants are from England,
A Russian hat on my head, but still my heart is Indian.)
Doors creaking, wind blowing, sounds of ghosts – all these thoughts have gripped Anjali as she is sitting at the corner of her dark bedroom, gripping the head of her husband Rahul, which is kept on her lap. She is scared in this horrifying state, with no one to come to her rescue. Even her husband’s company isn’t enough.
Why don’t we ever get the number engaged if its a wrong number we’re calling?
I hope you remember this ad. Don’t you? Ah, well, at least the ‘elite’ people know. By elite, here, I am referring to the privileged few who happen to own a television. For me, my membership in the elite class has been a discontinuous graph, it remained fairly close to 0 since the last 14 years now.
…. competence intention trust stability happiness uncertainty fear rejection responsibility doubt myself ….. Whenever I read Devansh’s (aka Deboo) blog, I feel that I am drowning in a tag cloud of these words. As if each and every word screaming at me, urging me to understand the depth of things, the undeniable truth. Still, I let myself argue in disbelief and objection to these laws set forth before me, that define and guide the life of all human beings.
When you think about wine, what comes to your mind? Maybe some of these thoughts,
The other day I was discussing ‘what is love’. First thing I did was ‘define:love’ on 
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