I have my own Gandhi
The other day, some months ago, I attended a book opening
session in Crossword Pune, the author being the well known Andrew Cohen,
who wanted to talk about his new book “Evolutionary
Enlightenment”. Mr Cohen was disappointed about the poor turn
out, and along the way, for reasons I don’t
want to get into right now, he also claimed that Indians are ‘rude’.
This is not the first time I have
faced comments in the snide about us Indians. In fact, with a family that spreads across multiple
countries, God’s grace has given me an opportunity to travel across continents,
and see for myself a bit of the world. My most poignant memory is of the time
in Florida, in the immediate 9/11
aftermath, when I was shouted at and called a bitch by an American in
the elevators of a tall building and another when I was told that Indians do not care
about the world and do not recycle.
Why I am even thinking about this
after all these years is a mystery; but maybe this person was right. We Indians
don’t know how to recycle. We use cloth bags and kerchiefs made out of our
mothers’ old cotton sarees and scarves made from grandma’s beautiful silk
sarees. When we take old curtains off our hall rods after years, we use these
to stitch pillow covers, and to wipe our floors clean. We ask our house help to
use cloth dipped in water for wiping, because we don’t have one-time use nylon
swipes in our houses. When it is time to
throw away bedcovers, we Indians cut them up into little pieces to use as
dusting cloth, because we do not use use-and-throw paper towels for dusting.
But this American was right. Indians
do not know how to recycle.
Most of us use leather footwear
in office, and simple chappals at home.
When a heel breaks, or a strap pinches, even today – we do go to a
roadside cobbler and get footwear repaired because we do not throw away stuff just because we are
able to buy new wear. The toys and clothes and text books and story books that we got in our childhood were always
hand-me-downs and were received with
grace and thanks from older brothers and sisters, and not as brand new things every year.
But this lady was right. We
Indians do not know how to recycle.
My father was in the Indian Air
Force, and this meant a move to a different place every 2 to 3 years. We always
packed in huge blank trunks- and never even once in cardboard one-time-use
throw-away cartons. Our crockery and fragile items were wrapped up in old
clothes and cushioned in old newspapers. We used Godrej locks and keys instead
of throw away nylon straps which are so popular at International airports
today. When a glass plate was chipped in
the house, it was used to give the cat milk
in. When guests came home..we served water in steel or glass, and not paper
cups. The Punjabi would go an extra mile to provide an extra large steel glass
of lassi. But yes… we did not know how to recycle.
Not even one in every thousand
houses in India has a washing machine today. Our clothes are washed by hand,
and dried by air- the same air that the Westerners breathe in. We do not use
dryers to dry dishes and clothes, preferring to use natural wind and air
instead. When we pick leaves from our
gardens, we use mops made of coconut tree leaves and bend down to pick leaves
by hand, instead of going to the gym and paying to do the same stretch for the
back.
But the lady was right- most of
us still do not know how to conserve energy, or recycle.
I read in the newspapers years
ago about how our scrap dealers have it tough because they do not have gloves to handle carbon and cobalt in the
scrap coming in from developed countries.
Being a poor nation, we accept payment to house deadly scrap on our homeland,
so that developed countries can remain clean.
But yes, the lady was right, all of the pollution in our homeland is our
creation, with no help from developed rich nations.
Oprah Winfrey in the Jaipur
Literature festival makes fun of us eating with our hands. But the lady perhaps
fails to see that we wash our hands, instead of using one time use paper
tissues all the time. What she calls elegant manners (read as eating with forks and spoons) , is but an indulgence
for the white-collared in India. We don’t
throw away balls and balls of egg yolk just so our kids can have egg-white. Our
egg curries make use of the yellow, because it is life-giving. We eat every grain
of rice on our plates for regular meals in the house, and most of us do not
order for more than we can eat in restaurants. Our plates when eaten from,
contain the occasional mirchi or adrak as waste, or perhaps some vegetable that
has remained mistakenly uncooked.
But what to do.. only Americans
conserve and recycle.
Coming back to my experience at
Crosswords.. Americans are far more judgemental of Indians –than Indians are of
Americans. If nothing else- we are a lot
who is forced to be judgemental , because of the great book writers and
speakers who visit us. My sincere
thanks to Andrew Cohen – instead of buying his book that day- I landed up buying
M.K. Gandhi’s “The story of my experiments with Truth”. This is a treasure I will
always cherish. A colleague recommended
Mani Bhaumik’s (also an Indian) Code Name God; and I am a big fan of Robin
Sharma- the leader who never had any title.
I do not need the Andrew Cohens of the world- I have my own Gandhi.
(My musings reflect a personal
opinion, while still fully respecting the virtues and vices that both countries
and countrymen possess, perhaps in equal measure. More on that later)
