I was last in India when I was 12, for my Navjote. This the first-communion-like ceremony for the Zoroastrian religion. It was at the Grand Hotel in Calcutta where I recited a half hour of prayers for a couple hundred people…and that was one of the last times that I ever did recite them. I recall now that I hadn’t even memorized the copious amount of prayers, but the Dustergee (priest) whom I recited them along with, had such a powerful voice, that he drowned my soft, shy voice before the crowd of people. This allowed me to get through the ceremony without any sort of embarrassment. There’s a number of other memories I have of the country…but after just stepping off the plane in the early morning, I found the most cherished one. Taking a deep breath of the Indian air for me is refreshing. Yes, its polluted and hazy, but this aspect along with so many other entities that are considered filthy are the things I really like about India and other developing countries.
I have missed this smell. Since I was 12, the only time I have gotten a nice wiff of it has been when my grandmother comes into town. No, its not her B.O. It’s when she opens her luggage up and out pops that filthy-sweet smell that knocks me back about two feet. Filthy-sweet. I’m not sure how else to describe it. But I do know it was something I was thinking about before coming here and something I was yearning to smell again.
I knew that my Aunt’s driver would be picking me up with my name on a sign. After, the guy stamped my passport and gave me the traditional Indian grin with nod to the side, I saw the guy with the sign, and I gave him a wink and a smile.
Even just driving home to my Aunt’s house, it all seemed so vaguely familiar. My senses have been so awakened since coming here. Bombay is Juhu and Cowpatty beach. Its Bandra and Colaba along with so many other bubbling, thriving spots. It’s auto-rickshaws honking profusely at the pedestrians and bicyclists, whom are barely managing to meander their way through th lanes or scurry across the street…usually to miss getting nabbed by mere centimetres. It’s the infrastructure that makes Bombay beautiful. The congestion, traffic, floods of people, and how it all seems to barely work out in the end. They say that if you can drive in Bombay, you can drive anywhere in the world. A guy I met recently added, “If you can drive in Ahmedabad and Calcutta, you can drive anywhere in the universe.”
So much contradiction, poverty, diversity, income disparity, and contrasts. It all adds up to the creation of the intense beauty of being caught in the grips of this fascinating city.
I thought that this American Desi would stick out like a bloody, sore thumb, amongst neatly manicured fingers, but if I keep my mouth shut it’s not quite the case in thi s modern metropolis. But I don’t keep my mouth shut normally. I almost find myself being very proud that I have this American accent and I feel happy with a cahnce to display it. I try not to judge others, but at times I do feel some sort of superiority- this usually doesn’t occur towards the poor, but at the rich, hip youth of Bombay. My first night in town, Melissa (my Uncle Taizun and Aunt Perveen’s daughter) took me to a hookah bar-coffee shop. The guys are quite fashionable with their hip haircuts and apt to the latest style of the States, while the ladies are astonishingly breathtaking period. Simply unbelievable. Whether in tight fitted jeans to show off their figure or in the traditional, vibrantly colored salvakameeses- I am equally in awe of either. You can say that I’ve been a tad deprived of the Indian woman, while I’ve lived the first twenty-two years of my life in Walnut Creek. What did we have like five Indians maybe out of a population of 1,200 at Las Lomas?
The café seen has sprouted up like no other in Bombay over the past few years. Small chains like “Barista”, “Mocha”, and “Café Coffee Day” are on corners of happenin’ parts of town and young people flock there as if a Bollywood star is expected to be there. No, there will be cameo appearances tonight- it’s a place to be seen for some “coffee and conversation”, as one of the slogans go
Friday morning I awoke alert at 7a.m., ready for the day. I did some yoga and push-ups on the cool marble floor of my room, and told my Aunt I was going for a run on the beach. Today, was Eid, a holiday for the nation and a celebration for Muslims. The beach was already alive with activity: kids playing soccer and cricket, adults out for a walk or jog, and behl puri or paratha vendors getting prepared for the day.
A reoccurring theme for over the past few years, is that when I move from home I feel inspired to exercise, do yoga, and my thoughts flow more fluidly. All of this initially, as my consistency in most endeavors seems to gradually dwindle.
There’s a lot more sociological analysis of Bombay to come along with some other thoughts…perhaps when I return here next week.
You have certainly romanticized Bombay! It does not sound poor in culture or lacking any richness in beauty. I truly flavor full cup of coffee is mixed with a verity of spices.
Symple
Have heard much of the incredibly-westernized rich of India. Thus, your immediate observation of this proved reassuring of what might be considered an ever-increasing loss of the Indian culture. Hope to hear more of your thoughts on this as your time progresses.
Take care.
Symple,
I did not mean to romanticize nor say there was a lack of culture. I was merely trying to push aside any previous notions people might have had of Bombay being strictly impoverished, polluted, and overpopulated. Yes, some people do have this idea of Bombay. Yes, there is much poverty, but Bombay is now such a multi-faceted metropolis with such a wealthy upper class and huuuuuge middle class (India’s entire middle class is over 300 million) that there is way more than just the culture created by the poor. And I think both sides of the spectrum are equally fascinating. Anything wrong with that? It’s hard to fully characterize a city with so many million people in a few paragraphs, but I’m working on it… Did I address your statement?
Filthy-sweet…I thought moth balls but hey!!!! As you so poetically described it, I flashed back to grandma opening her suitcase to reveal the peanuts she had so neatly and craftedly stowed away on the airplane for my taste buds…ahhh…those were the gifts that make me wonder why I didn’t know any better…anyway, much love to you…say hello to Nani ma for me…know that a piece of me is traveling with and through you always…love, Roshi
Revaz,
I think I should clear up what I was trying to say. I have never been out of this country and the only views I might have on conditions of other countries and cultures are formed from American media, books and the Internet. I had this idea of a dry hot place where the sun shown so brightly that it made everything have a glowing white glare. Your first hand account of the country and local culture made my already aching desire to see the world burn more. I love how your portrayal of Bombay and envy that you have an opportunity to explore more your roots. Please understand I was not criticizing or making fun of your writing but know that I was totally spellbound by what you have written. I have enjoyed everything you have written on here so far especially the entry about the music when you were younger making compilations. We grew up in the same time and I was able to identify very deeply with a lot of what you were saying. Please know I meant no harm in my comment it was to express how you opened my view up of the places you are traveling in.
May your travels be safe.
Anja
“SYMPLE”
revaz, my goodfriend it has been a minute or two since we last rapped. i would be remissed if i don’t drop you consistent vines on your expedition. so here is numbaONE…if heads still do ask you what you plan on doing with your degree then this website should help answer their question. how you have explained your journey, with such detail and conviction, makes me envious and you commendable. i understand your disgust with sean daley and the others for capitulating to the mainstream but you should always take heed of a man from providence, RI by the name of paul franchise. he will always be true. “in a rat entrapment making you think there is cheese at the exits, speeding up the pretentious vegetarians sticking meat in their lettuce. you’ve got it all upside down hung by your feet w/a a necklace, especially if it’s made of hemp.” there will be more “blogs” from your crackah soon. i’m gonna lob you a jingle on your mobile after i submit this but most likely it isn’t in service. lght.
Anja-
It’s cool, I just fell into the trap perception’s deception. And I don’t take criticism well sometimes, although I understand your comment was well-intended. My sister wrote me this email and it spoke some of my thoughts~
“Hmmm… For sometime now both you and I have defended this place we know nothing about. We have heard the stories from Mom and Dad and we have listened…to them that should be enough right? To them, there was no need for us to learn Hindi…what’s the use? Well, they sure did miss the point. You can’t live through other peoples stories and you can’t fully understand through other peoples’ translations.
You may be asking yourself, what the hell does all this have to do with my email. Well, we have heard the negative side for sometime: overpopulation, to say extreme poverty is clearly an understatement, corruption, and lack of opportunity are a few that come to mind…so isn’t it natural for us, born and raised in the US of A, to take a romanticized outlook. To depart from the ideals of our parents and long to love and connect with a part our inner being that seems to have been erased or cheated from the identity we strive to embody?
If you feel that “romanticizing is to not do it justice,” realize two things:
1. You just arrived and are still in awe by the overwhelming activity of your senses
2. Realize that by surrounding yourself with the elite, or those who are more well off, you tend to see the “good side” of the tracks. Think about it, so many people don’t move to the U.S. because life is far too cushiony in India…
And I guess the last word of advice I can give you is that when you are challenged to step outside your sphere of intellect that is comfortable, take it in and ask yourself, are you being true to yourself, are you being true to the people who have to live there day to day, and are you being true to the people here: who have no choice but to take your words for truth…(hee hee).”
Sarah-
I really don’t think India has lost culture, but added more. These were the first impressions in a nutshell my dear cuz. I’ll get to the gritty later. Love ya.
Ohio Drew - You’re the one who said Mister Daley (of Atmosphere) sold out! I think he has continued to make a consistent album and if his video makes MTV2, then let more people here the Atmosphere shiz.
I do feel many other artists are failing to maintain good quality hip-hop: Talib, Living Legends, & Aceyalone to name a few.
But we shall keep searching for the freshest and brightest…I look forward to chillin with u and some beats minus the cheeba later this year.