Somehow you thought being an Indian made you an ultimate
survivor- deprivation does that. And then you came to America- the
land of surfeit and sensory overload. And, you began to flounder like a fish
out of water. No Scout’s motto could ever prepare you for this much opportunity
in one land. So, just hop on the bus and enjoy the free ride...
The sheer friendliness and cheerfulness of the people gets
to you. Here in India
if you make eye contact with even a stray dog it growls at you. Not so in jolly
America.
Be prepared to be nodded at, smiled at or have a cheery “How you doin’?” aimed
at you the minute your eyes meet a stranger. And, no, you cannot walk with your eyes on the pavement even if you are a grump
puss who wants no contact with other humans because you need to read the ‘Signs’...
Remember how Manoj ‘Night’ Shamalan made a movie with the
same name- ‘Signs’? Americans believe in signs- big bold ones written in red.
You come to a road and there’s a big red one saying DON’T WALK and in case you
are illiterate it has a big red hand telling you to STOP. Now to an Indian this
is highly irritating. No one tells you what to do- only you do. You hold up your hand to stop traffic in your
country as you coolly waltz across the road.
What really confuses you is when the light turns green for
the pedestrian to cross it is also green for right turning traffic(Americans
drive on the left side of the road). But, the polite American waits patiently
for the old, weak, and infirm and
the brain dead to slowly cross the road. No honking, no gunning of engines,
just the jolly, patient American with the blinking signal waiting for you to
cross the road before he turns.
Here you have perfected the ‘Sidewalk Salsa’ learnt while
evading death in the hands of the Bangalore
motorist where one misstep will result in a lost limb. With cars honking and
scaring the living daylights out of you as you put one tentative step
forward, one back and salsa till you scuttle across the road in abject terror.
It is easy to spot an Indian in America- just look for the
one who looks frenziedly right, left AND over his shoulder expecting to be run over any minute
at a pedestrian crossing...
Nothing prepares you for the trash an average American
family generates. With everything disposable, especially incomes, the amount of
plastic waste generated is incredible. In India only a rag picker will have
such a huge bag of dry waste slung over his shoulder after a marathon foraging
effort. Everything that can be used once and thrown finds its’ way to the
gargantuan household garbage bag in America...
Everything works so beautifully in America- no chaotic traffic, no
garbage strewn streets, and no obvious signs of poverty or rank corruption.
Then why does the Indian living in America still hanker and yearn for
home? What is there not to like in America?
The answer my friend, came to me blowing in the dust and
dirt free wind- there is everything to like but nothing to love. It is the
‘Land of the Found’- they have found the secret of an easy life but somehow
lost the plot on how to live. America
is all wealth but no heart. It has glitz, glamour and beauty but the ugly truth
is it has no soul. And that, one just cannot survive...
Nimmou Nilakantan
