people

Under the Microscope

/ novumlorem / 2 Comments

I was born and brought up in Dubai. Being a NRI (non-resident Indian) is quite the experience. Being a woman and NRI is out of the world. Here are a few things I’ve learnt, on my own or through my friends…

  1. Girls should not hug male members in public, even though they may your grandfather, brother or husband.
  2. Do not wear shorts, including knee length ones. Even if your parents and immediate family members are cool with it, the mauhalle waale (neighbours etc.) definitely will have problems. Not to mention the stares and whispers.
  3. Never question religious rituals. I once made the “mistake” of asking my mother why they waste litres of milk by pouring it on a stone idol flowing into the drain, when lots of destitute people, including young children are waiting outside the temples walls? Wouldn’t it e beneficial to give it to them; their stomachs would be relieved from the hunger pains for at least a while, right? Believe me when I say the expressions of horror would have burnt me had they had the power, and gasps of exclamation would have been heard throughout the city that day. Plus the lectures about respecting the Gods, and how I would have to ask for God’s forgiveness, failing which I would incur untold wrath. Since I am writing about this 2 years later, guess God thought my point valid.
  4. Girls should not talk or laugh out loud. Apparently doing so is considered as uncouth or disrespectful, God forbid. I still have no idea how that one works.
  5. We should never reveal the fact that we do not know cooking, or that we hate household chores. Or that we drink (BIG no-no); or have boys as friends, so on and so forth, you all get the idea.
  6. Be prepared for the assumptions that since you’ve been brought up outside, you don’t speak the mother tongue, eat the native dishes, and voicing your opinions on a subject is considered as being spoilt.
  7. Relatives will have an opinion about everything you do or want to do in life; education, clothing, how you behave, work etc.. Be prepared with PPTs if you decide to challenge said views or hold your silence forever.

I could go on and on about what’s wrong with people’s attitude. Thankfully people have started questioning the rigid thinking, so it is getting better.

Change is slow, yes?

Advice from Strangers

/ novumlorem / Leave a comment

You’re all gussied up or, maybe you’re in your rattiest sweats, whatever; you’re one of the hundreds walking down the street. You don’t know them, they don’t know you. The easiest way to introduce yourself to them? Throwing yourselves at their feet. Nope! You haven’t read that wrong…  What do I mean? Trip over you own feet and crash land near theirs…

I am one of those not so ‘normal’ humans; clumsy and accident prone. Someone who manages to trip on flat surfaces (no joke!) which, all of those ‘well-balanced’ strangers seem to navigate quite smoothly. And it doesn’t matter where I am, my legs never seem to co-operate with my brain or they are just jerking me around, literally!

My entire being feels like it’s on fire when this happens. However, I am so used to (translation ‘fed up’) of hearing the comments and suggestions given to me while I am lying flat on my back, with raised arms, hoping some of those ‘advicers’ (a.k.a. ‘idjeets’ as I like to call them), will realize that I am expecting a helping hand, not because I’ve been frozen like that in the fall. And to top it off, you are also dealing with the awesome pain that is making itself aware after the initial numbness. And let me tell you something, pain is pain. Whether it’s the gleaming tiles in malls, the concrete pavements or the mud path littered with gravel. Ouch! would be too small a word for that. The bigger ‘Ouch!’ is being subjected to the gawks and smirks and sometimes outright laughter, after such instances.

Yet, how does one cure clumsiness? My remedy is to not wear heeled footwear. It’s either flats or flats (though I am a proud owner of two, rarely used, pairs). But like any girl, my hands do automatically reach towards the pointy, attractive devils at the shoe stores, I hold myself back, ruthlessly, thinking of the after effects of falling down while wearing those beauties.

I’ve resigned myself to walking slowly (not snail like though). Each floor is stepped on after careful deliberation of its smoothness etc. So, if you all find someone whom you’ve seen doing the very thing I’ve described above, maybe you’ve seen me or someone just like me…