I have my own Gandhi

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)