An Indian in Cambridge

It is easy to spot an Indian in a British crowd. Of course I was talking about the colour of the skin. But there are a lot of other ways an Indian can distinguish himself in Great Britain. 

One of the most prominent characteristics of an Indian growing up in tropical climate is his propensity to take off his shirt without application of stimulus. His most important activity in a day is to take a bath. He usually goes to the bathroom half naked with a towel flimsily wrapped round his waist. When he arrives in Britain and tries the same, the exposed layers of his fat shiver to keep him warm till common sense prevails and he decides to wear full uniform and march towards the bathroom. But little does he know that he needs to march to the loo as well in full uniform and without the customary bucket or mug of water, to be greeted instead with sheets infinite of toilet paper while the force lie within him. 

Most Indians are very careful with money, as it is part of an ethical training they receive during childhood. While in Britain, they expect to save pounds by converting the monetary value of everything to rupees. But, soon they are met with attacks of anxiety when they start realising that all of their efforts are proving futile and they are climbing up a tree sinking in a British moor. 

Slippers are a man’s best friend, or so the Indian thinks. He wants to wear a pair of slippers everywhere, as is customary in India, to meet the dust and grime of everyday with gusto. But his braveness is met with a different adversary when he steps out wearing a pair of slippers in mid-winter and expects not to have ‘cold feet’ during the evening stroll. 

Scarves are a needless fashion accessory to the average Indian. On the Sun-beaten earth of India, the scarf can act as a mere towel to absorb the constant flow of sweat emanating from the neck. During winters, he is in the custom of using a light woollen muffler to protect against winter chills, but a scarf still instils the image of a silk garment that women wear as a fashion accessory to woo men. Little does he know that in Britain, the scarf is worn, not as a fashion accessory, but as a useful cloth to ward of the chilly, often biting, winds liable to produce swollen tonsils. 

Though cycling is a common exercise in rural India, in urban parts people much prefer to use public transport which is ragged and disorganised, but gets the job done beautifully, like a symphony – each part of the journey smoothly leading onto the next and so on till the end. And while not on public transportation, the Indian much prefers to walk. Thus, when he is suddenly thrown into a land of expensive but poor public transport, he grudgingly takes up the bicycle still believing that walking for sixty minutes is better than cycling for fifteen. 

The thoughtful Indian can be a careless pedestrian. He can be lost in his own world without a care of impending danger or ridicule. Such peace of the Indian soul is a much coveted art that most Westerners are unable to deconstruct. When such an Indian crosses the road with divine thoughts in his head, it is not without reason that he is at the receiving end of sneers and jeers from unaccustomed drivers. 

Another way of drawing attention of the vehicular traffic is by not installing working lights on bikes at night. In the technologically starved country of India where most cars are often missing more than one light on the back or the front, bicycle lights are an unknown entity. An Indian on the bike in Cambridge may expect a passing double-decker bus to stop and reprimand him for the missing lights. 

Sure, the buses are double-decker, tall and handsome. But the Indian pedestrian doesn’t care and expects them to stop anywhere before his extended hand, only to find them speed past his hurt ego. 

The Indian pedestrian is also unaware of the way traffic lights work. He is unaware of the fact that when there is a switch to be pressed to notify his presence at the crossing, it needs to be pressed, and that the pedestrian ‘walk’ light will not suddenly turn green without it. 

The technologically backward Indian is also in for a shock when he passes an automatic door to find it opening without provocation, and a dark passage not lighting up even after a thousand provocations. 

There is still more tomfoolery on the Indian pedestrian’s part when he attempts to be outdoors without an umbrella in the silly British weather. 

The Indian family man enjoys a nice evening with family and friends, but when it is complemented by diligent shopkeepers and store owners who keep business running to feed his whims. But this is not the case in Cambridge where the businessman is as family-oriented. If only the unwitting Indian understood this and had more empathy for the hardworking English businessman. 

The overcast conditions and chilly winds of Britain are the creators of the famous British runny nose, running faster than Usain Bolt and longer than Mo Farah. Fending off forming droplets from falling can prove to be quite a challenge, especially to the Indian unaccustomed to carry disposable paper towels. 

But the creators of British Indian food are as good as the creators of Indian Chinese, the lack of spice in the former making up for the excess of it in the latter. 

The Indian has to come to terms with the fact that British food does not only constitute the use of spice, but often also vitamin D. He is oblivious to this because in India there is too much of vitamin D producing Sun light. The Indian has to also come to terms with the fact that table salt is not supplemented with iodine in Britain. He will have to accept that this is not some British conspiracy to get Indians sick by malnutrition. 

The Indian mobile phone industry is still booming, though it has had the world’s largest subscriber base for a few years now. It bears testimony to how much the average Indian loves to talk. Yet in the cosmopolitan atmosphere of Cambridge he has to accept that listening can be a better pastime. 

The Indian is also in the habit of pinching himself from time to time to be sure that he is not in a dream among old buildings and old people with ancient customs. He wants to be sure that it is real, though if it isn’t he doesn’t want it to end. Quite a dilemma. 

Dwaipayan Adhya