NEW GLOBAL INDIAN
Shapmochan The Curse redeemed
Written by Biplab Sengupta Tuesday, 13 July 2010 00:00
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From a country of snake charmers to a software superpower, the way India is perceived by the West has undergone a drastic change over the last few decades. Biplab Sengupta narrates a first hand experience...
It was summer of '72 as I landed in Saarbrucken, Germany on a scholarship. That was my first visit abroad and also my first flight in an aircraft! From the first day I was overwhelmed with German efficiency and affluence. I, however, got my first shock about German perspective of India when our teacher for German history, Frau Schmidt, a diminutive German lady, quipped one day, "Whenever you are hungry, it must be very easy for you to pick up fruits like apples or mangoes from way side trees while walking down the road!" I could realize that even for educated Germans, all the aid receiving countries, be it India, Burundi or Rwanda, are in the same category.
Since that day, I along with a handful of Indian batch mates became obsessed with projecting the proper image of India and became her unofficial brand ambassadors! I don't think I have ever loved India so much! To prove our superiority we concentrated on individual excellence in every field possible.
But there was nothing positive happening in India for the outside world to stand up and take notice. For the vast majority in Germany, India remained a little known third world country. Either it was unrecognized or recognized as the land of tigers, elephants, fakirs and snake charmers. As a student I did travel extensively in Europe, and found identical opinions everywhere.
There were instances which could be considered funny or humiliating in whichever way you want to take it. Once I was staying in a small village near the picturesque city of Neustadt. The villagers had not seen any foreigner, particularly somebody knowing German and used to come to the bar in the evening to have a word with me. The queries coming my way ranged from, "Do you know rope trick or snake charming?" to "Could you see wild tigers or elephants also on the roads in Kalkutta (Calcutta)?" even "Do you have modern houses in Kalkutta?" ("No", I wanted to say, "We all stay in trees... except German Consulate, which is modern!") The height was, however, when a school girl asked me "Where is your head gear with lots of white feathers?" I then realized that nothing has changed since the days of Syed Mujtoba Ali (Who was in Berlin just before WWII) and the "Indians" were still being confused with the "Red Indians"! Germans were not only confused about my country but even the continent.
Things took a turn for the worst in eighties when our economy was stagnating and the focus was shifted towards China which was opening up. During this time I was frequently traveling to Europe for work, and found that India was practically written off as a corrupt and bureaucratic country which could not live up to its potential.
Things, however, started looking up with the advent of nineties with the opening up of the Indian economy and the glottalization of world economy. There was a lot of anxiety as well as euphoria about the possible outcome of Dr Manmohan Singh's economic prescription. Though the corporate world was interested in India as a possible market, for the common people in Europe, however, India remained mostly unknown and at best insignificant.
In 2000, though China was the dominant player, the economic liberalization and globalization were having a positive effect on Indian economy and the corporate world started looking at India as a rising economy. Goldman Sachs Report on economic potential of "BRIC" countries by Roopa Purushathaman created much hype and euphoria! I also joined a globalised German MNC and my urge to fight back the early humiliation helped me bring the Indian operation within the top fifteen within the very first year. Though the standing of our Indian operation rose within our worldwide corporate setup and I was traveling all over the world to explain to others about our turnaround and the future potential in India, I was still restless to understand how the common people all over the world, particularly in Europe perceived about India.
Profitability through extensive computerization of our Indian operation was appreciated worldwide in our organization but it also created lots of heartburn and rivalry amongst our overseas' colleagues who always thought that they could only teach us about the best practice and not the other way round. I became quite used to their remarks as long as they recognized us.
Much water has since flown through the Ganges and India is now recognized by all economic forums as a rising economy next to China. I was, however, not sure how i t i s now perceived by the common mass in Europe and the rest of the World.
It was summer of 2005, almost thirty-three years to the day I first set foot on Europe, as I landed in Malpensa airport, Italy for my business appointment at Milan. I did not ask for the office car and wanted to take a taxi.
"Do you know English or German"
I asked the taxi driver before boarding. "I know English and can also manage in German" replied the middle aged driver politely in a heavily accented voice. As is the practice in Europe I wanted to take the front seat but the driver opened the rear seat for me.
"Are you from India" asked the driver, looking through the rear view mirror, after we have left the airport area. Malpensa is quite far off from Milan.
"Yes?" I replied hesitantly, expecting a barrage of questions on rope tricks to tigers. "God, not again," I silently prayed.
"Oh! The software superpower! My salute to you!" said the driver in a genuinely appreciative tone without any trace of mockery.
"You have made my day!" was my spontaneous exclamation.
Though I have nothing to do with software, except for its utilization, but I felt extremely elated by the recognition of India by a common taxi driver in Italy! Truly I felt that the curse was redeemed (shapmochan) after so many humiliating years! Though our problems are far from over, I am confident that the new generation Indian need not remain handicapped carrying the burden of nonrecognition. Without warning, tears started rolling down my cheeks.
Singing the Freedom Blues
Somanjana C Bhattacharya looks at the concept of freedom as perceived by two very different individuals, having in common the feeling of alienation and subjugation in their own country.
She goes and she comes. Sometimes in the wee hours of the dawn when the street lights begin to dim in the lull before the surge of the tropical sun. Head down, always, tugging at the end of her flimsy dupatta, trotting in unsure rhythm with the deflated soles of her magenta slippers. Once in a while she would look up, citing the matronly look of a matured woman, so knowing of worldly matters. Yet, her gait would reveal the hapless child lost in the folds of tranquility. She would wake up; walk every night to die a hundred deaths in the hands of merciless circumstances that threw her prematurely to fend for herself. Raped, brutalized, agonized she would wake up. She would still walk this path every night only to come back to an even harrowing reality. She was abandoned by her father, they say. He was too engrossed in fighting his own battles to be able to bear the burden of a listless child. That night when she was left in the middle of a railway station, she needed some hand holding to get her composure back. She never saw so many people in her life. So much light, so much noise! Somebody stood by her side then, grasping her tiny little hand with whopping greed and a great deal of lust. She was sold that night like a petty commodity in the walking street of a bustling bazaar. As the atom of her spirited self would expand by the course of nature, she would immerse herself deeper and deeper in the whirlwind of impoverished, demented slavery. Yet, she would wake up and walk this path day after day.
As she was crossing the street in pensive haste, the unsung man was passing by on a shabby two wheeler. He was rushing past, away from another day filled with a sense of loss. He needed that job. Badly. Day in and day out he prepared for the moment, when he would face the vulture eyes across the table and emerge victorious. He would flow with the rogue questions, breathe away the answers and dance his way out. He knew his calculations well, the growth strategy and his five year plan. He knew the debt, the balance, the bulls and bears of the game. He knew, he is at his perceptive best at this point in life. Only, if he could express himself that well. In English. They seem to understand only that language. Just that one language. Why on earth did he take birth in an idealistic family? His folks went on and on about patriotism, nationalistic spirit, advocated everything indigenous - attitude, attire, language, way of life. What good is it to him now? Were they with him today, when he stood there, pursed lips, clenching his fists in desperation? If only he paid heeds to this foreign language that subjugated the very being of this nation! All he wants to do now is stand face to face and wipe the very face of pseudo-sophistication that those men in suits epitomized - in their terms, in their language. If only he could speak his heart out...in English.
When he went inside the pub, to drown his failure down the drain, the place was bustling with a jovial crowd. The twenty-somethings were jiving in the corners, the centre stage being occupied by some nouveau rock band, humming an American beat that apparently has rocked the world. Cocktails were flooding the floor while some teenage couples laughed at secret images on their iphones. They were happy, grabbing their burgers, gulping their sodas, getting high on life. They looked a world apart in their blue jeans and trendy t-shirts. He was still sporting khaki pants and a crisp, white shirt that his mother had once gotten tailor made at the dingy neighbourhood grocery store - the grocer's wife used to sew well, you see. As the mood turned from rock to rave, conversations got slurry. The crowd thinned out and hovered over one another. The music attained a flavour that he could only hear, not feel. At the strike of midnight, however, everything stopped. Somebody announced that it's the onset of August 15 ; the Independence Day. The crowd cheered and tinkled their half filled glasses. Somebody cheered in ecstatic glee, some others reclined back in the sofa with boredom looming large. Suddenly the parade and the flag hoisting flashed his mind. They used to distribute sweets in his school on Independence Day. The students would sing songs, recite poetries on such occasions. Once, his Hindi poetry on the freedom struggle got a place in the school magazine. But all that is only wrapped up in sepia tainted memories now, so far from reality. As he got up to get going, the percussionist played his remixed version of Jana Gana Mana...somebody shouted back, "I heard you my friend, the freedom fries are on its way."
th The two characters in this article are real. I know them personally. I've known many such characters. We, as a nation carry such a huge baggage of centuries-long slavery. The structure of our socio-political disposition, our education system, our constitution, our judiciary... almost everything relevant to our day-to-day existence is borrowed from some other culture. Even freedom of thought and expression is curtailed by age old influences of subjugation. What we call our own is hardly preserved and most of our present is dwindling in the face of corruption. A lot has been written on this subject and a lot could be written still. I have only touched a few dimensions of slavery that affect the lives of many Indians. BBC News had reported 3 million prostitutes in India in 2004. I dare not look into the present day numbers. These women have never felt the touch of free air till date, never known the joys of mental or physical freedom - or economic liberation.
Then, India happens to be the second largest English-speaking nation, just after the United States. The number, as I found on the Internet is 100,000,000, which is very good. I am proud that so many of us have mastered a foreign language. But why is it a matter of shame, when one is not so fluent in English but can express very well in his/her mother tongue/ vernacular language? Why does this prevent their entry to the professional paradigm even if the recruiting organization is local in nature, not having global interface of any sort? This is happening, after 63 years of independence from the colonial past. Now we've found another hero to follow. America. American materialism dominates our lifestyle today. Is it not time that we leave behind the stigma and dogma of slavery and embark on a path to original thinking, the road to redemption?
The author is a social activist, communication and behavioural trainer, co-patriot and Institutional Member of End Internet Trafficking Coalition. She can be contacted at somanjana@gmail.com
