Until recently, I couldn't tell the difference between Left and Right. (I had trouble picking my right from left. Every time I had to tell directions to somebody, I had to check a mole on my left thumb to identify it as my left hand). But we are not talking about my hands here. I am talking about politics.
Like a 'proper' Tam Brahm guy, my political inclinations were non-existent. I mean, it was not 'absent' non-existent. One did watch BBC or CNN once in a while to help with the TOEFL preparations. And read the papers. I spent the most time, when I had my daily dosage of 'The Hindu' (while sipping filter kapi) on sports columns. You know how it is... you go with the general opinion. The widely-accepted stance. The safe bet.
I cried my eyes out when Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated (I wasn't even 10 at that time). I didn't support the Americans when they waged the war against Iraq (I am talking about the First Gulf War) because I adored Mr. Saddam for standing up against the superpowers (I didn't know Kurds existed). In a fight between David and Goliath, you have to take sides with David. I cheered when India flexed its nuclear muscle. I was moved to tears when an actor in a Indian movie said that Kashmir was OUR land and even a handful of our soil is not for others to usurp. Palestine was a complicated international situation that world leaders were working hard to solve.
Emergency was a grand period in Indian history because trains ran on time, government servants did their jobs and slums were cleared to make way for a beautiful city. I burst fireworks when India defeated Pakistan in the 1996 world cup quarterfinal in Bangalore. United Nations, I believed was a powerful, autonomous world body that ensured peace and prosperity for everyone. World Bank was a philanthropic organisation that gave (note, gave, not lent) money to develop the infrastructure in developing countries. Colombia was a country of druglords, Brasil of footballers and France of romantics. I hadn't heard of Chechnya, Bosnia, Eritrea or Sudan. I called an Iranian, an Arab and didn't realise it was an insult (It was my Guardian Angel's blessing that saved me from being beaten to death).
Development, to me was skyscrapers (a skyline to take beautiful pictures in front of), foreign cars (that can go from 0 to 60 in 1.2874 seconds) and thirty-two brands of toothpaste in airconditioned supermarkets. And the chocolates. How can I forget those Kit Kats and Ferrero Rochers? Or Pepsi and Coke? And Parker pens and Swiss watches? And the mobile phone towers every meter and half. These were the signs that we were catching up with the west.
Oh! Those blissful days.
7 comments:
my comments never seem to see the light of day on your blog... but anyway..
and now do you mean to say you're disgruntled with our er.. "catching up with the west"? a matter of getting what you want and wondering what to do with it?
first... if ur comments don't get thro', let me reassure u that it is not my doing.
and i have nothing against development as such... it is this mad rush that upsets me.
no, didnt imply that. it's the collusion of my net connection and google products that makes it happen that all the time i spend in writing a long, nice comment get wasted for anyone Blogger blog. [shift to wordpress :P ]
btw, where are all the nice people who used to be here reading this page and giving some really nice and insightful comments?
howz life back home? -R
priya! nice people in my blog???!!!
who apart from u (;)) ever visits me :(. and anonymous here is anything but nice.
and R- home is awesome. attending a wedding in mumbai now and catching up with cousins i haven't met in 7 yrs.
ni eluthartha purinjikkira alavukku enakku arivu illa!!
enzoi machi..
-@!$#
(you know who it is)
At last, you posted. I haven't checked your blog for a longish while as I thought you'd be busy settling down. Interesting idea, nostalgia for naivete. But the post meandered a bit, and ended abruptly, I feel.
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