Culture Briefings

Culture or commerce?

I have been unable to devote any real time to publishing my thoughts here since the last few months. Work, among other things, has certainly kept me busy and mind-numbed. I’ve been thinking a lot about my home in India as well. So I wanted to take some time today to spill these various bits and pieces floating around in my head.

I grew up in a lovely row-house where my grandparents first found shelter after escaping the India-Pakistan separation in the 1947. It’s a tiny house, very middle-class by most Bombay standards. If you’ve been to an Indian middle-class household, you will know that the concept of personal space, doesn’t really exisit. My sister and I shared a bunk bed until I was 12-13 — we moved on beyond bunk beds but they were still, the fold-able kinds. The kinds that turned into a sofa during the day. Space was precious. I didn’t have my own room until after I graduated college. And it was no bother. Thats what I was used to.

Anyways, going back to the house I grew up in….
In the six years since I’ve made another home in America, the real-estate around my humble town has suddenly shot up through the sky. A five-star hotel, a major express highway, a growing industry — appeared (what feels like) overnight. My home and those familiar surrondings of 17 years felt a little strange with each visit. And since the last 2 years or so the little row-houses have become a point of interest for builders. They want to build shiny new ‘towers’ for the row-house residents - more space, a hike in the real estate value and ofcourse, the added privilege that comes with belonging to a high-rise.

Now well understanding the polticking and bureaucracy — I do not know if the row-houses will ever be torn down in lieu of the promised paradise. But what I do know and what I have been wistfully observing since these discussions ensued is the hunger, the thirst, the determination these row-house families (including my parents) have to get ‘towers’ built. Every meeting with a new builder sparkles with hope and possibilities and everytime they are dashed, someone walks in with a new lead, a new direction….a new contact.
These are people who once resisted change and held on to their guts. Now, they fight, they scramble and they try to win, for that one leg up the social ladder.

It is a natural state of being, I know. And there are rationalizations behind this once instance as well. But the way I look at it — it is clear in my eyes. The Indian middle-class, are not satisfied with staying exactly there. As an outsider who was once an intimate insider, I watch this energy and this drive with fascination, with eyes wide open. Its like my countrymen, are entering their youth. Vital, pulsating and not willing to take no for an answer anymore.