Annual vacations to India can be a revelation of sorts and mine was no different, the rapid changes to culture and lifestyle surprises me to no end. As years go by I feel that I’m more of a tourist than a son of the soil and indulge in all kinds of touristy things. The one thing I notice is that, the haves and have-nots divide is widening. The weekend morning paper is flush with ads on Sunday brunches costing around 50 $ and above per head, while the same paper also talks about government subsidised canteens serving meals for less than 10 cents per head. This is not a rant post by an NRI or an effort to define the poverty line which I have left to the eminent alumni of Cambridge like Sen, Bhagwati et al to bicker over. This is an effort to unravel and understand the changes happening in India. Though I have spent my childhood, adolescence and youth in India, I somehow get a feeling of disconnect with the country. What surprises me, is that as someone who has made it a point to spend 30 days every year for the last 17 years and still very much connected in every way to India can feel the gap growing by the year.
Mall culture has come to stay, wish the authorities linked the approval for malls with laying and maintaining of roads within a radius of 30 Km (or if that is too much to ask for, at least 15 Km), I’m sure with this they could increase the foot fall to their malls and also fulfil their corporate social responsibility by reducing the carbon foot print on the foot falls. Moreover the roller coasters in their play areas would be more fun than the ones (Read Roads) that were used to reach them. Recently a McDonald outlet in one of the malls in the erstwhile communist Kerala got into the record books grossing the highest first month revenue for an outlet opened anywhere in India. The comrades who were once proud to bite into their Parruppu Vaddas and Kattan Chayyyas as they discuss socialistic reforms will now have to settle for Big Macs with Cappuccino to discuss on how to stall the next capitalistic venture.
I should say the only day that I felt like a vacation was the day of the Hartal in Kerala. It was very kind of the government to grant me the much deserved break. Having nothing to do, I googled the difference between a Hartal and a Bandh and realised that the former enjoyed the luxury of being declared just with a 48 Hour notice, but all I got was 48 Minutes to muster up a couple of beers to keep me company on my forced day of rest.
Apart from the snippets above what follows is a little thought provoking anecdote from my recent visit.
During this visit my daughters and I had the fortune of being introduced to a brilliant mongrel or a beach dog that had made the Elliots beach its home. When my sister in law called out his name, Castro, the black dog with white spots came running and was overjoyed to see her after many months. I was told that this dog was special; nobody knows who christened him Castro, probably one of the ‘socialist’ who frequented the beach did the honours. He does have friends from all walks of society and I was told, when one of his friends move out of the city he or she makes it a point to introduce him to other friends….or so the legend goes. He stayed with us for the time we were there and refused to let other dogs or ‘strangers’ close and guarded us as though we were his own. He drank tea, which made me wonder if this was a reincarnation of the pre-independence memsahib’s pets. The best part was that he walked us across the road and stayed back and ensured that we were well on our way back and then left. The values that this mongrel displayed was amazing and at the same time made us introspect. These are days when human values erode faster than the roads. It was one of those rare occasions when you ask your kids to learn from dogs.
Ironically right opposite the beach that was home to ‘Castro’ was a premium pet store which claimed to be into Pet Management, Events, Training and Premium Store. I realised that the widening divide was not limited to humanity alone but to the canine community as well.
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2 comments:
Love the post! Seriously hope there's more of the vacation diaries to come.. Castro, btw, didnt get his name in the way you imagined. He was, to put it simply, fixed/neutered/castrated. Ouch, yes. :)
Hey, Thank you. You should have told me this earlier. Sad they denied the world more of his kind.
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