I count myself very lucky to have been witness to the most altered half-century of middle class India in history.
Here are some events:
************************************************************************************************************
1961:
My MD Physician Uncle at Vizagh won a 1-year scholarship to Johns Hopkins at Maryland. His international flight to the US was from Calcutta. He was leaving Vizagh by the Howrah Mail in First Class at 9 PM. I wanted to see him off and landed at the Railway Platform.
There was a huge crowd of around 50 mobbing him.They comprised his colleagues in the King George Hospital and the Medical College, his students, his VIP patients all with garlands and bouquets in their hands waiting for the arrival of the train. As soon as the train arrived, my Uncle was practically chaired into his coupe and was garlanded and bouqueted amid clicking flash bulbs of ancient cameramen. And as at last the train tooted out, he came out to the door and was practically in tears.
An year later when he returned, I visited him at his home and was among the dozen or so visitors all ears for his stories of how great the US was and how many skyscrapers he watched and the Disneyland.
As I was about to leave, he went in and brought two yellow hexagonal sticks of about a foot each and handed them to me as a precious gift. He said they were the latest invention known as 'ball pens'.
2011:
This May my son was traveling to the US on a 3-week business trip...his 12th or so.
His flight was at 4 AM and the cab arrived at midnight since our Greenfield Airport is 50 km away. My son shoved in his suitcase and laptop and I joined him in the rear seat to see him off at the Airport Gate. On my return trip home, the cabbie opened the rear door, but I preferred the front seat by his side as I always do when alone. And started chatting him up. The rule is never to ask any leading question but keep gabbing about myself and my family for the first ten minutes. He then opens up and talks about himself and his family for the next half hour.
He said that four of his cousins are in the Middle East and two in Paris. And he is traveling to Mecca on Haj later this year. Great story-teller.
While parting he said I was the craziest dad he ever saw in Hyderabad...no father ever travels at the dead of the night to see off his son at the Airport...foreign travel being such a routine affair nowadays.
I muttered that I am in a time-warp and paid the two-way-fare and a handsome tip.
***************************************************************************************************************
1961:
I was 'studying' at our University in Vizagh and one of my classmates, KLM, was stinking rich. His father 'owned' a college in his native town nearby.
One morning KLM came to the University from his home town driving a Fiat Millicento. The whole class went out to see the miracle. In a few minutes, our HoD came out to 'receive' his undergraduate student; and asked him if he could drive the Millicento for a spin...all he had was an old jalopy...maybe Morris Minor 2-door convertible.
2011:
The other day we had our Grihapravesh Ritual presided by a young dhoti-wearing pig-tailed Purohit. He arrived at midnight driving his Hero Honda bike traveling 50 km from the other end of Hyderabad. As I drove in my ancient Maruti 800 and was looking for a parking slot, he came down to me and asked me for the key of my car...he will park it in a suitable hole.
He made his point. I politely declined.
After pocketing a cool Rs 5000 as his fees and bidding me goodbye, he let me know that 18 of their folk live as a joint family in a palatial estate in the suburbs...all in the godly profession...and own several Maruti cars, but have booked a high-end SUV (Mahindra Bolero) this festival.
***********************************************************************************************************
1965:
I just joined IIT KGP. And was homesick during Puja holidays and wanted to travel to Vizagh by the Howrah-Madras Mail which had only a quota of two sleeper berths for KGP. And about 50 students and teachers vying for them.
All of us woke up at 4 AM and lined up in front of the only Reservation Window at the KGP Station. I was the 30th or so. The clerk arrived at 9 AM and there were fisticuffs and the first two got their berths. The other 48 were given carbon copies of 'telegrams' to Howrah, hand-written tediously by the clerk requesting for berths from the Howrah quota. It was midday by the time my turn came.
In due course, after several visits to the Station, the replies had arrived, and none of us got a single berth...all were gobbled up at Howrah itself.
I traveled by the General Compartment and lost all interest in travel then on.
2011
My son was staying in a Hotel at Fortworth falling off to sleep. He got a text message on his cell phone with Airtel International Roaming from a colleague of his who was stranded in his native village on the scenic East Coast of India. The village was too backward to have a cyber cafe with internet connection, but had full Airtel Signal all right.
The text message was a request to book a train ticket from Kakinada to Hyderabad and send him the PNR number on his cell phone.
It just took 2 minutes for my son to connect to the Indian Railways website to make the booking on his credit card and another half a minute to send the text message to the scenic village in Incredible India...
*************************************************************************************************************
Nouveau Bourgeoise
From DC:
Brinda's foreign holiday raise eyebrows in CPM
...The rectification document states: "The penetration of alien bourgeois and petty bourgeois values is manifested in a lavish lifestyle, building houses which are far above the minimum needs required, spending large amounts on weddings of children, organising festivities on a lavish scale etc.."
gps: Quite unlike our nouveau-proletariat Didi!!!
============================================================================
No comments:
Post a Comment