Ten things I can do in India but not in London

Everyday, as I trudge along life in London, I am often assailed by stranded memories of life in India, life as I knew while growing up and for much of a greater part of my adult life - so far. Catching me unawares, these memories transcend space and time and whizz me suddenly to the familiar sounds, smell and experiences of India. Little things, but powerful in terms of the memories it evokes. Things which bring out the experience of living in different regions, things that remind me of all that I could do in India, but not in London, ten of which I will share below.

1. In India, I can make use of my road sense in driving along the lanes, byelanes, highways and expressways, in a way that allows the varied pace of traffic to keep flowing - smooth or staggered, but somehow we manage to reach our destined destination (the interim or the final). In London, where every movement is guided by the ‘Highway Code’, I have to switch off my instincts and recall the rigorous training underwent in numerous driving lessons, to make even a simple turn. At the roundabouts, I can’t help being amazed at how people queue up along one lane while the next lane is nearly empty just because the Highway Code dictated what lane should be taken if we have to go in a certain direction further along. An honest confession – sometimes I don’t recall the Highway Code too well; my instincts take over in an bid to make maximum use of resources !
2. In India I can expect the unexpected, hope for the hopeless while in London, structure and routine govern my daily existence. Loadshedding or power outage in the middle of the night – no problem, jugar ho jayega ( it will be managed). In the west, should there ever be a power outage, counseling centers will be set up to enable people to handle such a crisis !
3. In India, I can turn up at my friends/relatives/distant acquaintances/complete stranger’s house unannounced . Eons ago as a kid, guests turning up unannounced provided welcome relief from tedious time at the study table. Here, I have to book appointments weeks ahead; even for a ‘blink-and-you-miss’ visit.
4. In India, I can expect the high and mighty to be esconsed and transported in the safety of their rarefied zones, far from the teeming masses of lesser humanity – in motorcades and flashy cars that will stop for no red light or traffic police, zooming them to their destination at speeds of travel only surpassed by light. In London, David Cameron ( counterpart of L K Advani, our PM-in-waiting pre Nuclear deal) just had his bike stolen.
5. In India, I can haggle. I can counter any price with absurd offers and negotiate with all the skills of a City banker with any vendor – from the vegetable-wala to the builder. Buying something was not just a case of exchanging plastic money, but it was an exercise in eloquence, coaxing, hard negotiating skills and financial acumen. At the end of every transaction, the buyer felt like a winner. It’s a different matter that this feeling of well being lasted till the promised value of the goods purchased dissipated rapidly, but nothing deters us and we bargain again and again. In the west, I wait for the ‘Sales’.
6. In India, I can follow my heart and make claims without any need for material or scientific evidence. I think, therefore I know. If I think that the Taj Mahal was a Shiv Mandir, then so be it. Freedom of not just thought, but of expression. In London, if I claim to have come back from the dead, then I have to prove it – case in point – the Canoe Man.
7. In India, if I ever get the promised share of millions from the offices of a Nigerian banker wanting to transfer some of the moolah, I can flaunt my prestige saloons and travel in chauffeured luxury. In the west, people stash away the Bentleys and the Rolls Royces in their garage and ride around in bikes, ostensibly to reduce the carbon footprint (does not matter that hordes fly out on long haul holiday flights and burn more fuel than can be justifiably explained in Green terms !).
8. In India, I can write my name as KKKKKiran and still be considered sane enough to sign my Will or any other legal documents. In London, people will think I am mad. Simple.
9. In India, if I call customer services, chances are that Vivek Sharma will visit me to fix the problem personally. In London, I will be speaking on the phone to Jack-with-an- American accent and who is actually Vivek Sharma and who goes through a script for carrying out a conversation and asks me about the weather when all I want to do is make a quick payment.
10. In India, I can feel a sense of belonging, a sense of history seeping into my blood the moment my feet first touches the ground after landing from distant shores. Yes, there are moments when the context of belonging shifted from India, to the state, to the city, to a particular part of the city and finally within the four walls of the house (and I can toss over the garbage across the vacant plot next door), but inspite of this, when we hear the strains of Jana Gana Mana, we are binded to our nation ; a nation born at the midnight hour because of a tryst that we made with destiny. In London, I will always be asked where do I belong. Rightly so, for it is to India that I belong....