NRIs : In search of an identity

Last Saturday, on Holi Day, we had a guest who we were meeting for the first time. We spent a good part of the afternoon and evening talking about our families, life in the ’70s in general and Indians in particular, future plans etc etc all the while trying to find a common ground. Just a little bit of history - this gentleman in his late 50’s born and brought up in India was one of the fine engineers the country produced in the ’60s; he worked a few years in India before moving to Japan with his family. It has been 28 years since. The reason I say he was one of the fine engineers is because people who studied engineering in that era knew what a Electrical Engineer was supposed to know and the universities didn’t produce them by the thousands. Least of all, unlike their current counterparts they didn’t throw their hands up in the air and make a distress call to the neighborhood electrician to fix their electric fuse. Engineering was not a passport to IT and money making; it was what every middle class family dreamed of so that their sons would make a career, have a better life than the mediocre life the government jobs offered then. Anyways, that’s a topic for another post.

So this gentleman and his family moved East and went to make a bright career for himself living the life every Indian aspired for - working abroad, all the fancy gadgets at home, car to drive, bringing suitcase full of goodies for dear ones back home, international education, saving for a good life in the future, and in general a standard of life that an Indian only heard of from their NRI relatives - TV was still not a household commodity in ‘80. He was not worried about future - who would take care of parents, would his children be able to relate to India, was it alright for them not to be close to their roots, not be able to converse in their mother tongue, the loneliness of his spouse in an alien land with a language that is not easy to pick up for a house wife etc..he took it by the year, visited annually for a few years initially and then lost touch for over a decade communicating with family here occasionally by phone. The children grew fine- did well in school, went to university in Europe, conversed with parents in Japanese. The gentleman got all that he ever dreamed of with his hard work - his career was his life. Today he is proud to have traveled over 45 countries with a house in Japan. Sounds like the perfect life, isn’t it?

Read between the lines as he spoke and you could feel the tinge of sadness in his voice, the sorrow in his eyes of having been so away from his roots for so long. He spoke of his job in Orissa in ‘72 as if it were yesterday. The passion was unmistakable, he remembered a great thali restaurant in Pune he used to dine at in late 70s that is still one of the finest. Ofcourse these nostalgic conversations were always interspersed with tidbits on the goodness of a developed nation. Today, his kids are in India in pursuit of wanting to do something different than their Japanese friends. India is an alien nation to them; just how Westerners strive to have an India experience on their resume it is fascinating for these kids to be able to work in India for a social cause (NGO) briefly, ultimately waning to settle in the West. They have tried real hard to forge relationships with all their cousins and catch up on all these years they have missed. They love being here but the Japanese upbringing in them is making it difficult for them to get adjusted culturally, socially..

The gentleman became a little uneasy as I popped the question that every NRI dreads- “Do you ever plan on coming back to India?” There is no direct answer you will ever get from any NRI. He smiled, shrugged and cited how easy it was to carry on there, he aspired to work and it was difficult to come back here and start all over and the conditions were exactly conducive to his temperament and went on to say how “Indians” behave - we’ve all heard fellow Indians bitch, so that’s alright. Today, he dreads walking alone on Indian roads by himself scared of the people, the traffic and fear of getting mobbed.

It is easy to pass opinions and make a judgment. If I were in his place probably I would have done the same thing, who knows? We all make choices, he made one years back. My dad often told me that it wouldn’t have been possible for him to put me through engineering if he continued working here in which case the opportunity would have gone to my brother and I would have had to settle for a B.Com, B.Sc whatever. This is not to say that parents of all the engineers today went abroad to educate their kids. Many could afford it here; some couldn’t.

This gentleman made a choice years ago - one that he though was a wise one that would improve the quality of their lives. That’s the paradox of choice. We can’t cling tenaciously to all of them. He made one just like so many of his generation. Now close to retirement they strive to be near their roots, with family, in a land where the language you’ve grown up speaking is spoken. This is also the time when their children have grown up and flown out of their nest. This is hard for them to accept unlike their Western counterparts - how ironic that NRIs want their kids to grow up like the rest of them and have Indian values. Many countries such as Japan do not offer citizenship for one- just a permanent residency and require you to be in Japan atleast for a brief period once in 3 years. What is painful is to see the struggle in their minds and swinging between their roots and the life they’ve adapted yourself to and the decision is killing them. In reality, it is a search for an identity and no one can help them in this - it’s they who have to decide. There are choices available - it’s up-to them to make one and feel at home.

Astrology and its believers

My aunt and my mother had just returned from the astrologers’ den after a 4-hour ordeal and said later that night, “One profession where you don’t need a degree, no equipment or capital investment for a swanky office but just a room rent and still keep a thriving business - astrology!” They were tired from the madness, the push and shove, the I-go-first adventure of the day. They could’ve returned, but they persisted until they had seen The Man.

Human beings are curious creatures, all eager to know what the future has in store for them - willing to lie on our bums for the rest of our lives if the astrologer predicts “You would settle abroad.” Your stars will work towards it, isn’t it?

Fortune telling is a thriving profession in India and manifests itself in various forms - palmistry, tarot reading, olai chudi/nadi josiyam, numerology, coffee reading, tea reading and astrology. The takers are no less in number ..it’s a different story whether we believe it or not. Some do it seriously as if their life depended on it and some just for the heck of it. No wonder Vivek Oberoi becomes Viveik Oberoi and just about every celebrity in Bollywood making the spelling confusing, sometimes tongue twisting ..with some changing it back and forth so many times that it’s hard to tell which is the current one. It was an obsession a while ago in Tamil Nadu and the name boards of even the tiniest grocery store changed the way they spelt it based on Numerology.

Belief in astrology has been so ingrained in our culture that people rush to fortune tellers irrespective of their class and caste, often ruining their lives by spending a fortune in parikarams, to set things right whatever be the problem - loss in business, daughter-in-law /mother tussle, marrying your longtime girlfriend or missing that much wanted promotion yet again. Often times, I’ve seen people visiting a particular temple one particular day of every week for months or fasting or taking a pilgrimage to a remote temple in a remote village of the country.

Astrology is a science; I’m neither ridiculing its believers nor doubting the credibility of those to who these people believe. Sometimes I wonder if they are just good observers and psychologists who believe in saying what we love to hear with a tinge of bad news to give it that authenticity. I just find it funny how this as a profession has passed down generations in this nation and in most cases serves as the only source of income and how people hold on to every word the astrologer says. As if the human version was not enough, we now have numerous software that boast of accuracy in prediction and high success rate in match making. There are no degrees or experience certificates to prove these astrologers are the best in their profession - it’s all by word of mouth. Of late, I’ve heard people in the marriage market complaining there’s a dearth now and many are increasingly turning to the software version but are missing the solace and comfort of hearing their fortunes from that of another human - the reassurance and personal touch is missing.

Years ago, ‘93 to be precise, a distance uncle saw my palm and said, “You would never travel abroad.” I replied, “But I just got back a month ago.” Surprised and adjusting his posture he said, “Well that was your last trip.” He pursued palm reading as a hobby and did not read everybody’s. I had no inkling about this hobby and later my granny said he was good at it. We’ll see I had told her. Those were the growing up years when all one dreamed was to study and work in U.S So this prediction was kind of upsetting. In due course of time, I perhaps forgot. More trips followed - ‘98, ‘00 followed by another one in ‘03-’04. I’m sure you have heard people tell you all sorts of things. They are good at telling what has happened in the past but when it comes to predict what is going to happen I doubt!

After all these years, I’d like to not believe any astrologer, not go to one (I don’t) and not don my fingers with colorful stones. Future is exciting when you don’t know what’s in store - isn’t that why it’s called that. Recently I was told I won’t work for the rest of my life and never have a career again. We’ll see!

Kids - our conversation fillers!

Striking a conversation with a stranger is easy in two settings - over a cigarette (I’m told) and when you have a cute baby in tow. For introverts like me, children come in handy in a social setting. Before Lil’ General came along I often rehearsed the opening lines before starting a conversation with someone unknown just so it didn’t end even before it began. Interestingly, gaining confidence and making the first move to initiate a conversation with someone didn’t happen until I started going out with LG - call it the lack of social circle or the need to talk to someone other than the maid. How we all live in our own wrong pre-conceived notions. I was a difficult conversationalist with stay-at-home moms in my working days for one I thought they were versatile homemakers who did a good job of managing kids, great cooking for 20 people in half-a-day’s notice and keeping a happy home - all of which I was incapable of at that time and found it hard to hit a common ground. The fact is I didn’t try and refused to open up. And you just don’t make friends if you don’t open up. They all remain acquaintances.

One thing that comes naturally to Indians is the usage of kids as conversation fillers. See a lady with a baby in pram in the park and it’s funny how even a shy person sheds her inhibitions and goes on for 30 minutes about everything from Paediatrician to teething to conceiving accidentally to the right age gap between two kids. And believe me, before LG I dreaded at the thought of visiting a family with prodigy kids (just so you know for every family their kid is a prodigy) for it meant listening to everything from the famous “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star!” rhyme to alternating 1,2,3. That was not all. In all likelihood, it was followed by the kid gyrating to the latest Bollywood item number. Imagine the practice and torture the child is subjected to and ofcourse the visitors - how many ever times you visit them in a week you will be subjected to this ordeal. That was when I swore not to use LG as my conversation filler and never to subject any visitor to LG stories and narrating his potty schedule or how many hours he slept during the day and what TV he watched or didn’t. Kids make any unpleasant situation easy. Imagine a social do you are forced to attend because of whatever obligations and every second person in the room is uncomfortable talking to the other because their spouses aren’t the best of buddies but you still ought to wear that diplomacy hat and make small talk - let’s just say kids have made that small talk all the more easy. Oh come on! - don’t read between the lines. We all encounter such occasions once in a while.

I was sure as adults we could manage to have other conversation topics than the time-tested one of our kids. If I can fill up half the posts on this blog related to children, do you think I would be faring any better in real life? I’ve failed miserably!

Friends : Real, Virtual and otherwise

One evening day last week, my neighbor downstairs mentioned casually that it was her husband’s birthday and was upset how none of his family remembered to wish him. Most of their well-knit family live in the city and get-together at the drop of a hat. Otherwise a very cheerful lady, she was visibly upset. As soon as the husband S came, V and I went downstairs to surprise him; that cheered her a bit. And, within minutes one of her friends who lives down the lane stopped by with a huge chocolate cake.

LG turns 15 months

The first year, I though, babies grow like a weed taking a new form with every sunrise. Suddenly, I would find the limbs longer, the nose flatter, chubbier cheeks… I mean the changes are so very obvious that it warranted a monthly milestone post. And then it all started slowing down. I just didn’t have enough to do a monthly one and decided to settle on a quarterly one. But LG, proved me wrong. Sure, there are no superficial changes tow rite about but the activities have grown multifold that I could write volumes and volumes and still never be satisfied. Such is the age and look what we turn out to be just years later.

Looking at LG gives me an enthusiasm to live my life; not exist. I don’t wish for bigger things anymore. Small things make him happy like sneaking behind my back and opening the fridge gives him a thrill; seeing a donkey on the road makes the boy grin and (un)familiar faces make him lose control. It’s after all the smaller things of life that keep him engaged and happy. Ironic but true. Not the Rs. 300 toys but the 5 year old vessels on my kitchen rack; not the fancy electric fountain but on top of the bathroom counter and the tap to play with; not a ride on the car but a breezy evening walk on his pram or his mamma’s shoulder.

I’ve become less judgmental after LG came along; more patient; less critical and more appreciative of other’s actions; more tolerant of other’s space and learnt that to every parent h is/er child is the most precious thing. Comparison is one thing I’ve not been able to overcome, however hard I try. Over to LGisms….

He and his grandpa(s) have a characteristic potbelly.

Stacking rings - he started doing this in early January when he was barely a year old.

His first real word after bow was “akka” at a Sari shop that caught us by surprise.

Twisting door knobs comes with ease which leave no area of the house unexplored. Wish I had known a kid was on the way; I would then have kept the clocks to almirahs and fridge in safe locker. Damn! I don’t know where I misplaced and spilled milk, broken sauce bottles,fruits on the kitchen floor have become a common sight now.

He mastered the art of getting down from raised places.

Can hold his own bottle and drink from a cup.

Points to apple in the book and says, “Appy”. Searches the letter “Q” in the ABC book and kisses the Queen.

V taught him the “Thank you” etiquette. He understand when there is a transaction, “Thank you” has to be said. But what he doesn’t understand is only when you receive it. Even when he gives something, he thanks you.

I don’t know if I should call it potty training but he understands it is not a good idea for me to change his shorts while we are out and holds on until we’re back home.

V dribbles the football at home. One evening he imitated his act by kicking the ball gently.

Early to rise and early to bed policy continues. It’s all by the clock - to bed by 8:30 a.m. and up by 6:30 a.m. come what may. And, dare his lazy parents sleep after 6:30 a.m.

He enjoys the company of other kids in the park so there’s no way I’m allowed to miss that routine.

LG is a drama queen - protesting for everything that he doesn’t get and imitating all that we do. If I cough, he follows. If V chokes on food, he does that too. He has some trademark moves to loud bollywood songs and gyrates his body and hands to show the music should go on.

He grabs almost anything by tiptoeing unless it’s kept 5 feet high. Turns the gas knob off and then on which proved dangerous a few days back.

He got his first ceremonial haircut at the temple and then at the barber’s. It was funny as he kept rolling his fingers on the bald head.

He hogs on grapes as if there’s no tomorrow. He offers all other food he feeds on to me (sometimes forcibly) and his friends - granny, buco kidoo etc but when it comes to grapes it’s protected for personal consumption only. Of late, the fad is to not to fed but eat by himself with a plate and glass just as grown ups do.

The horizontal expansion is slowing down. As the Doc said, now you will see him grow vertically not the horizontal way. Bye bye to chubby cheeks.

And finally the one that was anticipated the most, occurred two days back. Yes, he took a few steps without support. The walking bug has caught on. It will be a few days before we stop seeing a tiny being crawling around the house; we would start having one of us then. Ah, I would miss that more than anything.

What keeps you happy - relationships or money?

Alright, I’ve had enough of this. It’s time to get it out of my system. First - before you let your thoughts run wild, let me clear the air that all’s well with our relationship. Sunday’s Time Life supplement from The Times of India is lying on my desk next to the laptop for the past three days and as always I can’t believe what they write or I am almost sure they just make up such fancy stories to increase readership.

The story called “Best of both worlds!” with the description “Many couples believe leading parallel romantic lives is no big deal. Biswadeep Gosh gets to the bottom of it” is either a work based on fact or fiction. I would like to think it is fantasy but Mr. Ghosh would like readers to face the truth. Read more

On being a stay-at-home mom aka housewife

It was 9:05 p.m. Sunday night. We’d just returned home after looking at a few apartments in the city and I was done feeding Lil’ General his dinner when the phone rang. It was my brother - he asked me the usual question - what I was doing. I told him I’d go to the supermarket down the road to pick up vegetables for the week. “You’re a housewife!”, he exclaimed as if it was a discovery worth going down in Record Books Read more

Social Interaction for LG and Apartment Hunt in Pune

Thinking how two varied topics as LG’s social skills and our moving to an apartment are related? To begin with we currently live in a sprawling independent bungalow of about 200 sq. ft with a balcony, huge terrace and a car park. It is spacious and nice devoid of all the wood work, storage space and interiors. It took us months to get settled and still it is not an organized home even after nearly 3 years. Averse to investing in cupboards that would not be of any use to us when we move back to our flat, we did not buy much - just the bare bone needed to keep a home functional with all the extra stuff locked away in the three bedroom in cartons that was either never used or only once in a while. So long it was just the two of us, this house was amazing with wonderful people for house owners. Read more