A stranger at home

I begin this write up with a genuine apology to the decision makers who are adequately knowledgeable, more learned than I and of course may be more dedicated to their duties than the lesser mortals like us. My intention is not to crib and cry and complain, neither do I intend to show my disregard to the tourists who flock from all over the globe and thus contribute to our country’s economy. India is a place where guests are treated very well. “अतिथि देवो भवः” or ‘The guest is God’ is the motto that most of the Indians follow. But we seem to have taken this mantra as a fad too seriously for the comfort of the denizens of this country. While we are increasingly pushing off our aged parents to old age homes and barely can afford to spare a thought for our teachers,’matrudevah’, ‘pitrudevah’ and ‘acharyadevah’ seems to be lost in the oblivion while ‘atithidevah’ seems to be the order of the day. Begging excuses from Aamir Khan (for I do not mean to express my animosity to his campaign), I would like to highlight a few nuances from my recent trip to the Taj Mahal in Agra. The security was tight as usual in the monument of love. I was very pleased with the dexterity with which the security personnel checked the hand bags of each person entering through the entry gate. They rummaged through every pocket, taking out things like stamps, eatables, etc. which are not allowed inside. I was in queue and there was this lissome Caucasian lady in front of me. She carried a pretty lavender leather bag. The security personnel opened her purse as something was detected in the scanner. Out came a box of chocolates; and the same was put back in the bag. My turn came and my hand bag was also put up for inspection. I had put a guava the day before, meaning to eat it that very day, but somehow it slipped my mind that it was still lying there. The young lady in uniform started her monologue, “People like you come from faraway villages and carry food to all places in your bags like uneducated lots. Even in aeroplanes you carry your rotis and vegetables”. I was really ashamed that my guava created so much trouble, but it was not intentional. I silently ate up the offending fruit and came back to the lady in question and told her, “Madam, I ate up the poisoned guava. Would you not like to taste the imported chocolates in the lavender bag that just went inside?” And do you know what reply I got? She calmly said, “Foreigners are not like us”. I did not know whether to take it as a compliment or as an insult. I decided to ignore the episode and enjoy the majestic architectural wonder. The turn came for us to put the shoes in the shoe rack because no one was allowed to enter with shoes. The ‘foreign tourists’ went inside the boundary with their shoes though. I also saw that they were allowed to carry bottled waters while we were not even allowed to carry water for the children. The security man replied to me when I asked him about this, “Out tourists fall sick if they do not drink bottled water. The dirty water is not for them. We can trust them as they will not carry acids or other harmful fluids in the bottles. But our people might be doing so. Also they are not accustomed to walk barefooted. Do not worry Madam, when they will enter the mausoleum, they will wear shoe covers.” I asked why we were not given shoe covers. To this he replied, “Madam, you and I can walk barefooted. The premises are clean; just go inside and see. Even your kids will like it. Nowadays the kids have forgotten to feel the soil of the country”. I was aghast at this preach of patriotism. But more was in store for me. As I started to enter through the entrance gate, the guard on duty came running to me, “Madam, the entry for the general public (read ‘Indians’) is on that side (he pointed to a recently constructed ramp at some distance). This is for VIPs”. VIPs who? I wondered. I thought that he maybe referring to our political leaders. He smiled and said,”Foreigners are VIPs.” So the Indian tourists needed to take the faraway ramp, take a detour around the entire monument barefooted (cow dung and dog-shit notwithstanding) and then reach the main entry gate. I enjoyed visiting the Taj. I loved the well manicured gardens and the innumerable fountains. The chirping birds and the dancing squirrels elated me. And I learnt a lesson too; that we can never be at par with the developed countries till we learn to respect ourselves, and only if I respect myself then only I am worth the respect of others.