Our USP : Being poor and tolerant.
It all falls into place.
When I was a kid,I’d watch my granny work in the kitchen and wonder at the difference in her ways and my mum’s.I’d never understand the thriftiness about washing every plastic bag of milk with hot water and then drying it and reusing it over and over again till she’d gather the courage to throw it out.Mamma seemed so chilled out,in comparison!And yet,as I grow up,I observe the exact same difference between me and her.
One could discuss the pros and cons in the above situation from the environmental,economic,moral perspectives.However,that’s not the purpose of this piece of writing.
In the past,I have actually enjoyed the painful procedure of apartment hunting.Yesterday,however,all I wanted to do was cry.Like,literally.Big cities,in India,it seems,have this concept called Paying Guests (PG).Very contrary to the “atithee devo bhawa” principle in our culture which directs us to treat guests as if they were God,this type of accommodation made me feel like I was walking in a brothel,with all due respect (limit tending to zero).As I looked at 3 cots stacked in a room of 10 ft by 8 ft,I wanted to throw up and moved to the living room. Essentially an empty space with an analog tv booming out a soap of questionable taste,this didn’t really help.
I thought of my house in Cambridge,and closed my eyes shut.And,walked out.
The other day,a lady,with deep concern,asked me,”So…my son just started his 6th grade.What coaching class is good for JEE?” (JEE is a universally ‘revered’ college entrance exam in India).It all starts then.For some,even before.We work hard to get into a good college.We work hard to get through those 4 years of ridiculous competition and testing.We work hard to get placed in a company.We work hard to get that promotion.I know,I know.I am talking routine bullshit.Failing to make a coherent point.I know.
But believe me,that is because it is a really tough point to make.In that,it is simplistically straightforward.
When I was cribbing about getting paid 1/10th of that I was offered in America,someone reminded me that I would be spending in Rupees.I thought,well,that makes sense.With an honest average salary,I will easily live an average good life.As it,turns out,no,ma’am!”It is just your first job!Of course,you have to struggle and make ends meet!How can you expect it to be a comfortable life?!”
Don’t get me wrong.I am a fan of hard work.Really.Hard work out of choice,that is.Not hard work out of fashion.I have learnt,quite quickly,that the lower spectrum of the working class (aka freshers) need to pick this fashion up or perish.So I am all psyched out about 15 hour workdays and working weekends and what not—-no complaints cause,hey,I am learning a LOT!
Out of curiosity,I asked my boss,”What’s so special about our services,why can’t our client do this on their own?” The answer dawned a transcendental realization on me. ”Cost.”
People talk about the first world and the third world.People report data on per capita income,life styles,GDP and what not.People argue about the disparity having decreased in the last 50 years.But all of that,is just that.Talk.If one really wants to understand this difference,between the rich and the poor…one needs to go live both the lives,to the core.Every place I have traveled to,people have told me that the Unique Selling Propsition of Indians is that they are smart and hard working.Liars!Those are the words that simply make us feel good about ourselves.What’s really unique about us,from a business point of view,is that we are cool with everything.That we don’t demand lifestyle standards.That we’ll do anything to earn and save that extra buck.And we have fancy noble labels for each of these traits which make us feel okay (in fact,special) about them.
That night,I sat on the hem of this new,strange city,tears of confusion and anger and acceptance streaming down my eyes.And I tried hard to put things in perspective.To make fair sense of it all.
And all I could come up with was a solemn promise to myself.That being poor and tolerant will NOT be my USP.Ever.
Like I said,it all falls into place.Well,mostly.
