Sometimes I wonder how aptly this punch line of a telecom service
provider fits our Indian life-style. Let's face it: we are inherently so
effusive and expressive that at times we even forget that what might
appear to us as a natural outburst of emotions might be the cause of
utter consternation to the others.
We’ve all been through been through the agony of being stuck in a traffic-jams caused by the pompous baraats (wedding processions), wherein bunch of heavily decked ladies, who refuse to go easy on the jewellery and jazzy saaris despite the hot and humid tropical climate of ours, and a bunch of over-zealous men, whose dance steps even a Hrithik Roshan cannot match up to, blithely make merry all the way without caring a damn about all the chaos they are creating for the other passers-by. They keep on coaxing the other equally garishly dressed spectators to join them and add to this pool of crazy dancers as they claim the streets and roads reveling in presupposed marital-bliss of the soon-to-be couple.
What about the characteristic Indian burp that is discerned to be the ultimate marker of a satiated tummy? Let me warn you: if you do not follow this ritual of ceremonial burping then the host might pile up your plate with additional pooris and matar-paneer saying, “aap toh kuch khatey hi nahi!“. Yes, burping and spitting are our birth-rights and we will exercise them to the fullest.
It is said God can intercept your deepest thoughts and prayers even if you do not articulate them. Huh? What nonsense? We Indians are far from being subtle. We do not like the idea of one-on-one conversations with the divine. We would rather make it a conference call and force everyone to join. What do you mean you don’t want to? Who cares? How can God hear us if we don’t croon using microphones (how I wish the quality was Dolby surround sound)? The jag-raatas are our answers to all-night parties. Of course the Goddess loves the kitschy Bollywood numbers. Why else would we decide to set holy lyrics to Pritam's and Anu Malik's tunes (whose originality in turn is equally dubious). So what if you have three mosques in the same locality? It's the right of all three mosques to inform the people about the time to pray. What, the sounds from all three mosques are overlapping making it cacophonic? So what? Deal with it! Each imam is accountable to the God for his own mosque after all.
Try and compare the eloquently mourning aunties at our condolence ceremonies, who I can bet barely know the deceased, but will wear the most melancholy expressions on their faces as if the person who passed away was dearest to them, with the placid condolence ceremonies of the west, where even the most bereaved of the family members appear gathered and composed and meticulously “suited up” (as Barney would say).
All these situations and many more, essentially highlight our proclivity of being able to express ourselves without any restraints. It can be befuddling, annoying or amusing, but it is certainly and deeply Indian. So enjoy the madness of being an Indian and go out there and express yourself.... :)
We’ve all been through been through the agony of being stuck in a traffic-jams caused by the pompous baraats (wedding processions), wherein bunch of heavily decked ladies, who refuse to go easy on the jewellery and jazzy saaris despite the hot and humid tropical climate of ours, and a bunch of over-zealous men, whose dance steps even a Hrithik Roshan cannot match up to, blithely make merry all the way without caring a damn about all the chaos they are creating for the other passers-by. They keep on coaxing the other equally garishly dressed spectators to join them and add to this pool of crazy dancers as they claim the streets and roads reveling in presupposed marital-bliss of the soon-to-be couple.
What about the characteristic Indian burp that is discerned to be the ultimate marker of a satiated tummy? Let me warn you: if you do not follow this ritual of ceremonial burping then the host might pile up your plate with additional pooris and matar-paneer saying, “aap toh kuch khatey hi nahi!“. Yes, burping and spitting are our birth-rights and we will exercise them to the fullest.
It is said God can intercept your deepest thoughts and prayers even if you do not articulate them. Huh? What nonsense? We Indians are far from being subtle. We do not like the idea of one-on-one conversations with the divine. We would rather make it a conference call and force everyone to join. What do you mean you don’t want to? Who cares? How can God hear us if we don’t croon using microphones (how I wish the quality was Dolby surround sound)? The jag-raatas are our answers to all-night parties. Of course the Goddess loves the kitschy Bollywood numbers. Why else would we decide to set holy lyrics to Pritam's and Anu Malik's tunes (whose originality in turn is equally dubious). So what if you have three mosques in the same locality? It's the right of all three mosques to inform the people about the time to pray. What, the sounds from all three mosques are overlapping making it cacophonic? So what? Deal with it! Each imam is accountable to the God for his own mosque after all.
Try and compare the eloquently mourning aunties at our condolence ceremonies, who I can bet barely know the deceased, but will wear the most melancholy expressions on their faces as if the person who passed away was dearest to them, with the placid condolence ceremonies of the west, where even the most bereaved of the family members appear gathered and composed and meticulously “suited up” (as Barney would say).
All these situations and many more, essentially highlight our proclivity of being able to express ourselves without any restraints. It can be befuddling, annoying or amusing, but it is certainly and deeply Indian. So enjoy the madness of being an Indian and go out there and express yourself.... :)
haha.. nice :)
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