Ashamed of India

This is an experience of NRI on his visit to India in our 50th year of independence:

This is a compilation of some of the experiences I had, when I went on an official visit to India. I am a senior project manager in a chemical construction company (in USA) and I was going to India to oversee the start up
of a plant being designed and built by my company. I also happen to be a American-settled-Indian. A junior technician, Steve, who is an Anglo-saxon
American was also sent with me to India to aid the Indian technicians with the
plant start up. I talked with the travel department into buying Air India
tickets.

Being a senior executive, I was entitled to first class seats, while the technician traveled economy. So, I show up at the Air India terminal and got
into the first class counter. The attendant there is an Indian lady, who refuses
to acknowledge me and keeps on doing some work on her computer terminal. When I
interrupt her, she replies very roughly "This is the first class counter, can't
you see? Go to the end of the line at the next counter!" The next counter was
economy class. "Will you please check my ticket at least?" I replied. "Sardarji
aapko English nahin samajh aati? This is not an information counter, go to the
end of the line!"

Well of course, I got my first lesson. No matter how successful you may be, your
desi bhai and bhens always think of you as Mr. Cheap!

We landed at New Delhi early in the morning. I waited for my junior technician
to get of the plane, so that we can go together through customs. This was his
first visit overseas. I thought India being my home country, I shall be able to
help him. Little did I realize that it was I who needed help. As soon as we
approached the counter, the burly haryanvi jat at the counter saw me with turban
and the white guy behind me, and said "sardarji aap jara side mein khare ho jao"
and he said to Steve " Please sir come forward". "Oh no! you can process him
first, we are together any way" replied Steve. Ignoring what he said the jat
said "Sir you come forward, I do not want to hold you for him, you are a guest
here and people of his kind we have to check more, you know all that terrorism."
That made me mad. I protested, but to no avail. The jat threatened me that if I
try to stop him from doing his job, he will have me arrested. Something in me
told me to restrain myself. I told Steve to go ahead and I will follow him. To
make the story short, I did not make a good impression on Steve as soon as we
landed. The jat took his own time to clear me, with a look on his face, which
told me his thoughts were that this guy may be living in America, but I am the
king here. Well we went to the luggage area, got our suit cases and proceeded to
walk through the green line. I was wrong again. Steve could go through green
line not me. And guess who stopped me this time. It was a sikh customs officer.
I think he wanted to make sure that I should not go back told Steve respectfully
to go ahead and said to me- "Sardarji red line wich jao". Again Steve tried to
rescue me "But I am with him, we are together." "Sir believe me you do not know
these guys. It does not happen in your country but here they try to smugg
le every thing" and he winked at Steve. "I bet he convinced you in the plane
that he can get you best place to stay and best women in New Delhi" announced
the customs officer. I was mad again, but still to no avail. I told Steve to
wait for me outside. The red line guy went through every thing I had, humiliated
me and made me pay Rs 500 as duty. He detained me for 50 minutes, not realizing
that I make $60 an hour, which will translates into Rs.2100 for 50 minutes he
detained me. I was thankful that Steve was not there to see all this
humiliation.

The humiliation didn't end here, the company driver who came to pick us up
preferred to carry Steve's bags and opened the door for Steve. While I was
waiting for him to put my bags in the trunk he said "Sardarji ,waheguru ne do
hath bakshe ne warto." At the Ashoka Hotel, the counter had all the welcome for
Steve, the bell boy carried Steve's bags first. All this time Steve was
protesting, telling them to take care of me first as I was his boss, but all of
them just refused to believe that a brown guy can be a white guy's boss. Perhaps
even fifty years of independence have not been able to flush out all that slave
blood.

The second hand treatment even continued the next day when we went to the Indian
company head quarters. The chief-engineer there referred to call Steve sir and
shake hands with him first. But here I could control the situation. When I
instructed Steve to go to plant and start checking into equipment, the chief
engineer realized he has to deal with me and not Steve. Of course he apologized.

The worst humiliation occurred when I took Steve to a state emporium in downtown
for shopping. Here I was supposed to guide him and help him select the right
gifts for his family and friends. But the sales lady at the emporium completely
ignored me and showered all her attention on Steve. When I tried to intervene,
she scolded me in English, "Mister, why don't you wait till I can take care of
this gentleman who is going to spend dollars, not like you who is looking for
the cheapest sari for your wife you can buy." Even Steve did not like it and
said to lady "Miss, what is wrong with all you people in this country. You treat
your own people so bad. This gentleman is my boss, makes twice the money I make
and is perhaps going to spend twice the amount I am going to spend". You should
have seen the look on the sales girl's face. Steve made me walk out of the
store. I guess even he could not take it any more. He told me "Your color makes
things difficult for you in America but you are discriminated against much m
ore here in your own country. And I was thinking you were joking, when you told
me this back home."