The Indian Infatuation…

Scene 1: This one takes place at the railway reservation counter. I have bungled in one of my ticket bookings and I need to get a detail editted. This was during the times when no changes were allowed on the railway e-ticket once booked. So my folks manage to convince me to have a word with the reservation supervisor, who according to them was a very approachable person, and attempt the impossible. I peek into his cabin and I see he’s chatting with some foreign tourists who also seem to have pulled off a “krishnaraj”. I decide to wait till he calls me in. A couple of other foreigners form a queue behind me, guessing this is the norm here. In some time I’m ushered in and asked to wait, cuz apparently he’s not done with the earlier folks. I patiently ait. I notice that this dude is actually very polite and maybe my folks were right. Suddenly I see my chances brighten, I see myself sitting traveling on the same train which I was sure I wouldn’t, I see me getting a window seat even. The supervisor will be my savior. Finally the couple depart and I get the great man’s attention. But the smile on his face has vanished. The expression he’s wearing is far from warm. “Yes?”, he asks. I pour my woes. “One second”, he replies. My hopes begin to sore again. Maybe he’s gonna call his deputies and ask them to handle my case. Maybe he’s going to login to the system and do it himself. Maybe…”Yes ma’am, please come in”, he ushers the blond lady who was standing behind me in the queue. She gives me a queer look which I gladly reciprocate in equal intensity. “What seems to be the problem ma’am?”. Whoa!! The smile is back!! “What about me sir??”, I ask with a bewildered look…”Ow it can’t be done!”, Mr Supervisor swipes away my dreams and yes sir, the Athithi is God in my country…I’m just the common man!

Scene 2: A posh wedding. Complete with dhol and barat. And ofcourse the quintessential troupe of the groom’s college buddies. But there is a difference here. Mr.Groom is an MBA from the US of A. So that troupe has some foreigners as well. The bride’s mamaji rushes in to welcome the special invitees. They’re given special front row seats, the bride’s party can find a place for themselves. Mamaji’s also ushering them on stage. They’re in almost all the wedding snaps…even in the one with the bride’s father’s cousin’s daughter’s neighbor’s family. Guessing Mamaji got them the extra Gulab Jamun as well!

Its always been there, since Mr.Nehru’s big crush…till our respectable MPs clamouring for Mr.Bill Clinton’s sparsh. The Indian infatuation for fair skin is an integral part of our making. Pray to God, let me not succumb, let me be different!