It all started with buying a gift for a young friend who was marrying an American boy of Jewish origin. Her mother promised to carry it to the ceremony in the US, so it had to be small and light. I wanted something Indian, preferably south Indian, to reflect the ancestry of the bride. Yet it had to be something that wasn’t laden with religious, specifically Hindu symbolism. That set me thinking.
While I was ruminating, a video landed in the family WhatsApp group of an Indian girl speaking at her graduation from a prestigious American university. She presaged what she had to say by singing a few lines from the Bhagavad Gita . She was confident and she had a good voice. But I wondered: Was it a little over the top? I mean, she was, after all, one among many who had successfully concluded their course of study, and not just among her peers. Her achievement wasn’t exactly unique.
Of course, each one’s experience is that person’s alone and special. But still, the question niggled: Was it over the top? Or was I being uncharitable? For instance, when I quote from a classical work, am I showing off? Not just knowledge but also superiority because I have access to a work in a so-called elite language and you don’t? And my access to that elite fountain pushes me that many notches above you in the social order? I know something you don’t.
Different identities
Also, it establishes the hooks of my identity which, clearly, are at variance from yours. And again sets in motion the uppity wheel while simultaneously establishing our differences. Maybe it impresses, and also deals a stunning blow to the rest of you. But unlike Muhammed Ali who delivered the punch and took several more in return that knocked his life out of gear as indeed they do the lives of boxers in general, here, I announce my head and that’s-where-I-shall-remain start. Ahead.
I suppose the question really is: When we raise flags of cultural differences, what do we actually set out to achieve? The opposite position would be to blend, to conform. But that’s equally troubling, apart from being boring. Scary too. Think Hitler, think fundamentalism, think 1984. It makes you think maybe this is the reason the way the world is slowly converting to dominating cuisines and vocabularies and forms of entertainment and couture. In this toss-up resulting from religious, social, and cultural conditioning and reactions to them, and the natural consequence of having deeply motivating aspirational ideals, a whole universe of cultural misunderstanding takes root and blooms.
HSBC at one time ran a series of ads focusing on the need for awareness of cultural signifiers. One short shows a meeting held standing up to save time, and contrasts it with the Japanese yen to take time to contemplate decisions. Another points out what gestures mean in different cultures. We know that stepping on any reading material is taboo, while in other cultures this is no big deal. The tagline for the HSBC commercials was: “At HSBC we never underestimate the power of local knowledge.” It’s management funda not just for dummies.
Sometimes there can be hilarious repercussions, but it is usually always in hindsight. Once, a young English businessman asked an Indian friend if it was “done” not to keep to deadlines. He was dealing with a collaborator in India who would, every single time, promise to deliver in record time, and never ever keep to the promise. So this businessman was trying to find ways to adapt to the collaborator’s cultural psyche.
Another time, a Swedish friend had sent a gift to my young son. In response, after prodding of course, he wrote to her, “Dear Meta Aunty, Thank you so much etc etc…” Meta read the email and guffawed loudly: “Meta Aunty! Meta Aunty!” You see, in Sweden, some years ago, they went through the ‘du movement’ (meaning, tu in Hindi, nee in Tamil, tui in Bengali…. the familiar not the formal) by which all honorofics were dropped and even mums and dads began to be called by name. Hence the ‘Aunty’ appendage came as a shock and a joke. In India, one grey hair or one extra layer of adipose renders you a graduate of the aunty-uncle university.
And who hasn’t been held hostage to aunty-uncle holding forth about India’s hoary civilization and ancient philosophy! Forget aunty-uncle, what you have would take lifetimes to even begin delving into, let alone understand. So for anybody, especially a just-graduating kid, to thrust nuggets down the throat of a captive audience is a bit much, don’t you think?
Be happy in your skin
Whatever. It’s all very confusing. It’s hard to tell what’s okay and what’s not. It’s harder still to make the right choices. Maybe we should make the choices that are right for us, as individuals or groups or societies. And know there’s nothing better or worse, it’s just what you’re born into and surrounded by. You may not be happy with everything, but you are who you are and you have the choice to engender change so be happy in your skin, as Bullfrog realised:
Bullfrog stamped his feet. He was mad. “Why does rain have to be so… so… wet?” he said. “Doesn’t it know I have things to do? Important things.” He clutched his head. “See, I’ve got myself brand new clothes. New pants, shirt, coat and tie. But there’s no way I can step out today, not when it’s dripping like this from the sky.”
“Hey, take my umbrella,” said shiny Crow. “It has lovely colours, red-green-blue-yellow. You can hop about all clean and dry and go wherever you want to go.”
“Come over here, Bullu dear,” said tiny Snail in a teeny voice. “I carry my home wherever I roam, I have no worries. Take your choice!”
“Listen to me, my young friend,” said Tailorbird from a small green tree. “I can make you a tip-top suit in less than a jiffy, trust me.” Tailorbird flew in four directions, he quickly picked up this and that. In the blink of an eye he dressed up Bullfrog in a smart new shirt, coat, tie and hat!
When Crow, Snail and Tailorbird saw how happy Bullfrog was, they were happy too. “But tell us, Bulloo, before you go, what is this important thing you have to do?”
Kirrik! Kirrak! He cleared his throat. “I’m going to meet the Fishes today. They’re throwing a party for me,” he said. “We’ll chat a bit and then we’ll play.” Saying this, he leapt up high and landed chhapaak! in the water. The suit went floating bit by bit and he got wet, but it didn’t matter.
Now Frog and Fishes swim and splash, they have great fun together. They are happy in their own skins in every kind of weather.
Bullfrog wants to know: Does being in your own skin make you feel naked?