Shyama Parui
By Shyama Parui
Complaints, complaints and more complaints! Ever wonder why there is an incessant flow of grievances from every corner. Perhaps because there are people everywhere. I’ve grown to realize that most complaints are about things that we hold nearest to our heart and those that we are completely alienated from. While this may seem like a strange contradiction, its validity was evident from my recent trip to India over the summer. It had been seven years since we had visited as a family and, needless to say, much had changed. Alas, that also meant that our familiarity with the country that is home to most of our extended family members had declined.
It’s hard to get excited about traveling, especially when it takes over 24 hours from door to door across multiple time zones. Both rational and irrational whining is part of the package deal. However, it was a relief to see that my teenaged children were trying to make the most of it by seizing every photo op in the prettier sections of newer airports designed to attract attention. Personally, it was access to a clean shower at the airport lounge that made the journey bearable, and I am sure that our family members hugged us longer because of it.
What was meant to be a rapturous reunion quickly spiraled into a stressful situation when my mother, who is only a few months away from turning 90 years of age, fell sick and had to be hospitalized. To my horror, it was a challenge to acquire a properly equipped ambulance that can also navigate through Mumbai’s brutal traffic. My takeaway from the entire episode was that both India and the USA lack a sound healthcare system that places the patient as its highest priority. It is also an area where complaining may not yield any results. Frustration is an unwelcome and unavoidable side effect of hospitalization.
As I waited outside the ICU hoping and praying for Maa’s recovery, memories from happier times kept me afloat. Recollections of mach bhaja (fried fish) and jhol, (stew) made by Maa, the debate between chicken and mutton curry among my siblings, me groaning about having to eat korola (bitter melon) and kumro (gourd) flooded back. My craving for those simple meals and childhood banter skyrocketed. Dining in some of the fanciest restaurants offered some consolation indeed but its joy was temporary. The magic of family recipes is irreplaceable.
Robbed of familiarity, I felt most alienated on the roads and highways of Mumbai and therefore unabashedly joined the chorus of complaints initiated by local Mumbaikars. As a passenger, it is mindboggling to watch how pedestrians and drivers are equally ignored and unrewarded by the ever-growing traffic and never-ending road construction. Forget about emulating the aggressive drivers who go about dodging insane numbers of people and vehicles, I do not even dare to try my hand at backseat driving.
Switching gears, figuratively of course, let me share that during the planning phase of our trip, when I had first suggested visiting Delhi and Agra, my kids vehemently opposed it. I tried to reason with them but after a bout of failure, I resorted to emotional appeals. However, as soon as we saw the Taj Mahal, a first for me too, we were mesmerized by its beauty. The kids had completely forgotten about their objections, and I am glad that we were together at that moment, soaking in the splendor of an architectural masterpiece. As a flood and earthquake resistant structure that has survived since the 17th century, it is awe inspiring to architects, artists, and tourists alike. Shah Jahan’s Taj Mahal along with other monuments and palaces commissioned by Akbar illustrate that skillful alliances, tactful negotiations and efforts toward inclusiveness can result in peace which brings prosperity. So, I’m left wondering why parts of Mughal history have been thrown out of school textbooks? Are Indian students complaining or are they simply relieved that their course material has been cut down? I hope that the new generation of young adults are vocal about what’s right because apathy is a bigger threat to society than meaningful protests.
In addition to historical sites, we managed to visit three Hindu temples, one Bahai temple and a mosque. Based on these visits, it dawned on me that a spiritual experience is agnostic to religious affiliations. Any place that offers a sense of inner peace and a serene environment for self-reflection can provide solace and awaken spiritual connection with a higher power. While our time for shopping was cut down due to heavy rain and my lack of motivation, it was lovely to see my kids enjoy it for a change. Sarees, shoes, and costume jewelry captivated their attention and, unfortunately, depleted my wallet. What is even worse is the challenge of assessing fair price. At times, I think that it is acceptable to pay a little extra if the money goes to hardworking artisans directly. On the other hand, I don’t want to be fooled. There is a tendency around the world to overcharge tourists especially if they suspect that you are from the United States. Recently, reporters from a Paris publication found that Parisian cafes were indeed charging more from customers who looked stereotypically American versus those who appeared stereotypically French.
One thing that bothered me at the tourist attractions was being perceived as foreign. Not being recognized as Indian was a slap in the face. We were visibly different, seen as outsiders and immediately asked to show proof of citizenship. It simultaneously stirred up irritation, sadness, and a feeling of loss that is hard to explain. We call ourselves desis (natives) in the USA but sadly, we have become pardesis (foreigners) in the land of our birth!
At the end of my trip, despite the varying range and reasons for complaining, I admit that I have no regrets, and I can’t wait to return once the memory of these complaints’ fades.
Shyama Parui is a long time North Carolina resident and an ardent writer. You can reach her at: shyamashree_parui@hotmail.com
