Thoughts after returning to India

I would say my first 'Indian' experience was when I reached doha for my transfer. The place was full of Indians, many of them migrant workers crowding the duty free to take cheaper bottles of whisky home. Conversation was loud, excuse me's were rude and so I just sat, waiting for the flight to board. The noise levels had risen and crowding was common. I was missing silent Europe where people could work without telling everyone in a 15 meter radius what were their plans for the night.

The airport itself was huge, as I was landing there I could see the desert areas that separated huge terminal buildings and the hangars. It just looked as if money had been poured in to the construction to make it on a grand scale and practicality was an afterthought. The line to board was huge, around 50 people long if not more. And it lasted for around 30 minutes. The ride from the terminal to the plane was neverending. Just goes to show that big isn't always nice.

So I got into the flight sitting next to workers from UP and Bihar. About 1 hour into the flight, I was handed a piece of paper that said in the title- Incredible India. My initial reaction was wow, the government wants to welcome people into the country! As I glanced down, below the title there were names of websites and right below questions like are you getting plants to India. My suspicions were confirmed when I flipped it over and saw a long form to be filled... details already on my passport, whether I am nri, where did I board from and when blah blah. Then they wanted me to declare whatever dutiable I was carrying or if I had more than 5000 dollars. 'Why wouldn't you show if you have nothing to hide' that seems to be the motto here. Really such an amazing welcome. Meanwhile drinks had been served and the persons sitting next to me took wine, just because they saw me take it. Since one of them didnt drink, the other one kept insisting me to take the bottle they had spare. 

And then as I was taking my stuff from the conveyor belt, there was a rich woman in her young 30s or late 20s holding her purse waiting for the bag to come. As soon as she sighted the bag she motioned to a person in a staid blue shirt and said woh wala lekar aao. And the driver woh wala lekar aaya and he put it on the trolley. I felt contempt looking at her all decked in rich clothes and wearing heels with a look on her face that showed how far removed she was from doing any physical work. Then the driver went somewhere for a bit, in the meantime I saw my bag come in. Just as I was going to grab it, the woman starts- driver the other bag. Seeing the driver was not around, she grabbed the handle and applied 1gram of force and gave up, looking helpless and annoyed. Since it was right after my bag, I let my bag pass and picked hers up. Once I was done I put it on her trolley to which she mumbled a thanks and moved on without passing a glance. I encountered the same woman outside the airport when I was looking for a local person whose number to use to call my pickup. She said she didnt have one. I guess I was half a grade above the kind of people she considered her servant. She seemed educated, though the education had done little to her mindset. So much for emerging India. I was helped with the phone by a sardar who ran a tourist bus. Ironic how the poor help the rich way more than the rich ever could. Power subverts the morals of an Indian faster than the time it takes to eat a plate of chicken curry.