(Written two years ago. Reproducing for Medium now because scars of oppression take generations to heal. We must not hold grudges but we must not forget either.)
Growing up, we had to wait for our aunts to return from the middle-east for signs of modern civilization like deodorants and Casio watches. These and many other trinkets are being sold by the dozen on the streets and Skywalks of Mumbai’s suburbs now. But back then, these were evidences of superiority, of progress, of better fortune and somehow, better Karma. Never mind that most countries in the middle-east still impose Draconian and outright tribal laws. Who needs democracy when you have oil? Millions of Indians migrated and they still do in search of ‘better standard of living’; whatever that means and some extra cash. They would come back with fables of cleaner roads and ‘imported cars’ and conveniently forget the complete absence of free speech and freedom to practice your own faith. Countless instances of racism have been internalized and forgotten only to resurface during Diwali visits back home as jibes amounting to how Indians give Indians a bad name. Stockholm syndrome and circle of life complete.
Globalization now means we have a longer list of countries we can escape to in a more legal way. So our rich kids pretend to study in Australia and Australia pretends to care about them. It was quite the rage when I passed out. Half of my graduation batch suddenly saw the merit of higher education and migrated. The other half got married or otherwise sank into obscurity. I applied to a few ‘Universities’ myself; swept up in the momentum of the policy-aided market boom. But it never really appealed to me. Fermenting away in a lonely lab in a cold county somewhere, saving to come home once a year during X’mas pretending it’s Diwali and re-paying your student loan brick by brick for the remainder of your youthful years. American kids outsourcing their homework on freelancer.com was only the beginning, we are now going to college on their behalf. Only the format of the Lagaan changes. I would rather sweat it out under the tropical sun fighting the prejudices of my own people.
A great man once said, ‘National and ethnic pride glorifies the accident of your birth.’ And it would be ideal for everyone to live as a truly global citizen. But I would rather be a weather-worn Indian without regrets than a prickly NRI with a fatal dependence on sunscreen and mineral water. In a truly global world, travel wouldn’t be obscenely expensive for people whose ancestors lost crucial wars. Access to basic amenities would be a human right and not a sign of progress. Reduction of carbon emissions wouldn’t be the onus of the developing world that is only now shrugging off its colonial PTSD. Copious consumption would be seen a uneducated wastefulness and not as the land of opportunity. The Conquistadors were seen as otherworldly gods by the Mayans when they first landed on the shores of the New World. Within a few years, they were dancing around bonfires of ancient literature like cavemen. And their descendants get to be part of the First World on the dividends of this plunder.
If we can see the past for what it was and at least identify our victim complex if not overcome it; that would be a ‘better standard of living’. We are too anxious to give away our admiration and too scared to give ourselves a break. But look, they’ve got a Smart Watch!
