*the author wishes the reader to note that the following is not intended to offend or impose on anyone's belief in any way. it is merely a purging of emotion and an expression of opinion at the present moment. it is in no way a permanent statement, but rather a fluid observation. that being said - enjoy reading...
Yeh mera des hai, let’s rock in the motherland… Blah blah woof woof.
Ladies and Gentlemen: I have smelt the coffee. And the pooh, and the garbage, and sambar, and the incense, and the sandalwood, and the diesel, and the pee, and the car fumes, and the fried onions, and the fresh vaada, and the, and the, and the…
I’m having issues with India – can you tell?
Man, Damnit!!!! WAKE UP GREAT FREEK! Why doesn't the population realize what they have going for them? All they do all day is squat, chew paan; spit at your feet and watch the cows go by – literally. And as the cows go by, with them goes the charm and greatness of this amazing nation. It’s almost as if they (them Indians) hold in their hands a rare and amazing gem, unseen/experienced in any other part of the world, and they fart, burp, snort out mucus, drink tea, mumble how the west is polluting their country (Ha!) and let dust settle, cake and become hard and crusty – hiding from the world the brilliance of all that is India. Truly, India is practical experience in debunking Maya – some sort of training in going beyond the illusion.
I’m sitting on my bed in a house that is considered ‘livable’ and feel like a pauper according to western standards (but lets not play the ‘we-do’-‘you-do’ game, that’s not what I’m here for). What shocks me is that people are prepared to settle for substandard when they can have so much better. Ahem. Perhaps the same can be said about me. But the fact is that India is the land of plenty. It is the Promised Land and it is being ruined by complacent attitudes and corrupt minds (listen to me – I sound like a contemptuous westerner. But that’s beside the point – wink wink, nudge nudge). I’ve been informed (‘as a matter of fact madam’) that it is practically impossible to get any official work done (both government and private) without providing an ‘incentive’. Bollocks!! Can you believe it? The saddest part is that not only does this occur frequently, but also it occurs so frequently that it has become a way of life for these people. Paying bribes, offering ‘incentives’ and generous ‘donations’ have become a matter of course here and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to change soon unless there is a national mental renaissance. Two of my closest buddies (from my previous trip to India) who have moved abroad have shared some amazing insight and support with me. They are both born and brought-up in India (itself) and have gone searching for better pastures, refusing to settle for second-best. Nikunj (who is in Ausssie) and Ankit (in Amreeka). After lots of whining – on my part, scolding – on theirs and plenty of advice and encouragement, I feel much more comfortable that I’m not simply a spoilt foreigner scoffing at ‘primal’ Indian mentality. That I’m not over-exaggerating the frustration, anger and angst that seems to be part of the package of living here.
God I hate India. Um, no… actually I love it… yes, yes, I love India. I love India! Sometimes. Most of the time. No no… sometimes… maybe more seldom than often. But then again, if I go home (South Africa) I’d miss it. So ya, I do love India.
*Silence…
Maybe ‘love’ is too strong a word…
*Aaargh!!!
This is the status quo dear ones – it’s truly a love hate relationship of note. I’m being constantly confronted by the stark, harsh realities of life (and I don’t just mean poverty – which in itself is an entirely different topic which bizarrely begins with dogs). Dichotomies plague everyday life – they stare you in the face so frequently you have no choice but to look.
Venerating cows – while they eat garbage.
Universal love and respect for all – as they elbow, push and shove their way through a crowd.
The need for better amenities like water – while taps everywhere drip endlessly, liquid gold down the drain.
Deeply religious and pious people – itching, waiting for the perfect moment to con you out of your last penny.
I could go on forever.
India is deeply materialistic and spiritual at the same time. Loving and yet filled with anger. Careless and overcautious. Starving and unashamedly pot-bellied (and I don’t mean due to malnutrition ref: Ethiopian children). My mind goes blank – a thousand thoughts crowd my consciousness and I have no idea in which direction I should go forward.
But back to the present – and the light-hearted! Things are (thank God!) settling down with uni ‘stuffs’. After a major rigmarole with papers, blue ink and stuffy international center officials, I’m in the clear. I’m now a registered student for an MA in Anthropology at the University of Mysore aka Manasagangotri (and don’t ‘ag shame’ me, I chose to do anthropology and was not rejected for engineering or some equally bland course) and am one of a class of four – three of which are males. Whoopee. I haven’t met any of my classmates and I must say that I’m quite looking forward to it in some sort of voyeuristic cum sado-masochistic bizarre way. Lectures are scheduled to start on the 3rd of September. ‘But that is still to be confirmed’ says the HOD with a nervous giggle and shifty eyes. Deep breathing…
Pity-party aside, India is giving me exactly what I asked for – an experience. It’s challenging the very foundation of my beliefs, thoughts and ideas and is readily shaking the ground beneath my feet (ref: Salman Rushdie). I’m trying to take it as it comes – not to expect the best or the worst and deal with ‘it’ as ‘it’ comes (…whatever ‘it’ might be). Although, that’s the original attitude I set out with from South Africa, I’m not sure how well that worked out. But deep inside the darkness of that graying thing called my brain I think I’m on the right path.
I spent this weekend (31st to the 2nd) in Silicon Valley – the IT capital of India. Kavita and Avinash and their delightful bundle of joy – Kush were my hosts for the weekend and it was lekker J to use words like lekker, bummed and phased without getting a blank stare. Avinash is on sabbatical and is with the Bangalore Law College (Lauw kaa-lej) in Nagarbhavi – a quite, quaint campus in the middle of god-knows-where in Bangalore. As I jumped onto a train to Bangalore (which I was lead to believe stops in Kengeri – about 8km from Nagarbhavi) I found out that yours truly was a non-stop Mysore-Bangalore superfast train. Fantastic. Some freak actually jumped out of the moving train when we got to the Kengeri station. Albeit it slow, rather slow, I still think it was madness. Anyway, I got to Bangalore, made like local and push-shoved-grunted my way down the subway to the bus-stand where I barked ‘Nagarbhavi’ at anything in brown (Note #1: I’ve noticed that ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ don’t work here – a grunt and snort will do. Note #2: all bus personnel wear brown, which is awesome until you get some uncle who decides it’s cool to traipse around in a safari suit.). For a smooth Rs.9 I got to Nagarbhavi Sarkal (circle) in one piece, compared to an autorickshaw, an otherwise Rs.80. Man I’m cool! He he. Anyway, after spending a delightful weekend with the family, I made my way back to Mysore (where I am now) and am quite happily tucked into the cozy confines of my mozzie net. I fear that when I finally return home, I’m going to find it difficult to sleep without the protection of my beloved scotch-guard.
My clothes smell like mothballs, I do my laundry like a five-year-old playing house-house and I’ve read far too much philosophy for my tiny brain to handle (I can hear my synapses misfiring), but it’s all ariight!! I’m exactly where I should be and everything is in its place, happening as it should. I’m taking one day at a time, enjoying the experience for what it is (the up’s and down’s) and taking-in every bit of this fantastically crazy land. But make no mistake, if the chips are down and I don’t feel they’re coming up – I’m a coming home!!… But not before a fight… tooth and nail… down to the bone.
Here I am India – bring it on…
Yeh mera des hai, let’s rock in the motherland… Blah blah woof woof.
Ladies and Gentlemen: I have smelt the coffee. And the pooh, and the garbage, and sambar, and the incense, and the sandalwood, and the diesel, and the pee, and the car fumes, and the fried onions, and the fresh vaada, and the, and the, and the…
I’m having issues with India – can you tell?
Man, Damnit!!!! WAKE UP GREAT FREEK! Why doesn't the population realize what they have going for them? All they do all day is squat, chew paan; spit at your feet and watch the cows go by – literally. And as the cows go by, with them goes the charm and greatness of this amazing nation. It’s almost as if they (them Indians) hold in their hands a rare and amazing gem, unseen/experienced in any other part of the world, and they fart, burp, snort out mucus, drink tea, mumble how the west is polluting their country (Ha!) and let dust settle, cake and become hard and crusty – hiding from the world the brilliance of all that is India. Truly, India is practical experience in debunking Maya – some sort of training in going beyond the illusion.
I’m sitting on my bed in a house that is considered ‘livable’ and feel like a pauper according to western standards (but lets not play the ‘we-do’-‘you-do’ game, that’s not what I’m here for). What shocks me is that people are prepared to settle for substandard when they can have so much better. Ahem. Perhaps the same can be said about me. But the fact is that India is the land of plenty. It is the Promised Land and it is being ruined by complacent attitudes and corrupt minds (listen to me – I sound like a contemptuous westerner. But that’s beside the point – wink wink, nudge nudge). I’ve been informed (‘as a matter of fact madam’) that it is practically impossible to get any official work done (both government and private) without providing an ‘incentive’. Bollocks!! Can you believe it? The saddest part is that not only does this occur frequently, but also it occurs so frequently that it has become a way of life for these people. Paying bribes, offering ‘incentives’ and generous ‘donations’ have become a matter of course here and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to change soon unless there is a national mental renaissance. Two of my closest buddies (from my previous trip to India) who have moved abroad have shared some amazing insight and support with me. They are both born and brought-up in India (itself) and have gone searching for better pastures, refusing to settle for second-best. Nikunj (who is in Ausssie) and Ankit (in Amreeka). After lots of whining – on my part, scolding – on theirs and plenty of advice and encouragement, I feel much more comfortable that I’m not simply a spoilt foreigner scoffing at ‘primal’ Indian mentality. That I’m not over-exaggerating the frustration, anger and angst that seems to be part of the package of living here.
God I hate India. Um, no… actually I love it… yes, yes, I love India. I love India! Sometimes. Most of the time. No no… sometimes… maybe more seldom than often. But then again, if I go home (South Africa) I’d miss it. So ya, I do love India.
*Silence…
Maybe ‘love’ is too strong a word…
*Aaargh!!!
This is the status quo dear ones – it’s truly a love hate relationship of note. I’m being constantly confronted by the stark, harsh realities of life (and I don’t just mean poverty – which in itself is an entirely different topic which bizarrely begins with dogs). Dichotomies plague everyday life – they stare you in the face so frequently you have no choice but to look.
Venerating cows – while they eat garbage.
Universal love and respect for all – as they elbow, push and shove their way through a crowd.
The need for better amenities like water – while taps everywhere drip endlessly, liquid gold down the drain.
Deeply religious and pious people – itching, waiting for the perfect moment to con you out of your last penny.
I could go on forever.
India is deeply materialistic and spiritual at the same time. Loving and yet filled with anger. Careless and overcautious. Starving and unashamedly pot-bellied (and I don’t mean due to malnutrition ref: Ethiopian children). My mind goes blank – a thousand thoughts crowd my consciousness and I have no idea in which direction I should go forward.
But back to the present – and the light-hearted! Things are (thank God!) settling down with uni ‘stuffs’. After a major rigmarole with papers, blue ink and stuffy international center officials, I’m in the clear. I’m now a registered student for an MA in Anthropology at the University of Mysore aka Manasagangotri (and don’t ‘ag shame’ me, I chose to do anthropology and was not rejected for engineering or some equally bland course) and am one of a class of four – three of which are males. Whoopee. I haven’t met any of my classmates and I must say that I’m quite looking forward to it in some sort of voyeuristic cum sado-masochistic bizarre way. Lectures are scheduled to start on the 3rd of September. ‘But that is still to be confirmed’ says the HOD with a nervous giggle and shifty eyes. Deep breathing…
Pity-party aside, India is giving me exactly what I asked for – an experience. It’s challenging the very foundation of my beliefs, thoughts and ideas and is readily shaking the ground beneath my feet (ref: Salman Rushdie). I’m trying to take it as it comes – not to expect the best or the worst and deal with ‘it’ as ‘it’ comes (…whatever ‘it’ might be). Although, that’s the original attitude I set out with from South Africa, I’m not sure how well that worked out. But deep inside the darkness of that graying thing called my brain I think I’m on the right path.
I spent this weekend (31st to the 2nd) in Silicon Valley – the IT capital of India. Kavita and Avinash and their delightful bundle of joy – Kush were my hosts for the weekend and it was lekker J to use words like lekker, bummed and phased without getting a blank stare. Avinash is on sabbatical and is with the Bangalore Law College (Lauw kaa-lej) in Nagarbhavi – a quite, quaint campus in the middle of god-knows-where in Bangalore. As I jumped onto a train to Bangalore (which I was lead to believe stops in Kengeri – about 8km from Nagarbhavi) I found out that yours truly was a non-stop Mysore-Bangalore superfast train. Fantastic. Some freak actually jumped out of the moving train when we got to the Kengeri station. Albeit it slow, rather slow, I still think it was madness. Anyway, I got to Bangalore, made like local and push-shoved-grunted my way down the subway to the bus-stand where I barked ‘Nagarbhavi’ at anything in brown (Note #1: I’ve noticed that ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ don’t work here – a grunt and snort will do. Note #2: all bus personnel wear brown, which is awesome until you get some uncle who decides it’s cool to traipse around in a safari suit.). For a smooth Rs.9 I got to Nagarbhavi Sarkal (circle) in one piece, compared to an autorickshaw, an otherwise Rs.80. Man I’m cool! He he. Anyway, after spending a delightful weekend with the family, I made my way back to Mysore (where I am now) and am quite happily tucked into the cozy confines of my mozzie net. I fear that when I finally return home, I’m going to find it difficult to sleep without the protection of my beloved scotch-guard.
My clothes smell like mothballs, I do my laundry like a five-year-old playing house-house and I’ve read far too much philosophy for my tiny brain to handle (I can hear my synapses misfiring), but it’s all ariight!! I’m exactly where I should be and everything is in its place, happening as it should. I’m taking one day at a time, enjoying the experience for what it is (the up’s and down’s) and taking-in every bit of this fantastically crazy land. But make no mistake, if the chips are down and I don’t feel they’re coming up – I’m a coming home!!… But not before a fight… tooth and nail… down to the bone.
Here I am India – bring it on…
