Going back home

I haven’t written in ages. Well, I think I’ll write today. We’ve been having a truckload of assignments, this bio lab, maths investigation(which I’m still working on yikes!), english written task, TOK presentation and we’ve git exam week next week. Then we hit a milestone-a three and a half week winter break, when I’ll have the joy of going back home to India.

When I think of India, I imagine farmers in the fields. I see students waking up early to sell the morning papers to earn their daily bread, heading straight to school to give an exam afterwards. I see masses of call centres, offices and hospitals, with their outnumbered tirelessly working staff. I see street lights and hear honking on the bridges and highways, flooded with cars, trucks and cyclists heading back after a long day. I see a chaiwalla, or tea seller outside an institution. I see an undiscovered shack on the dead end of a hidden lane-with a fancy name like ‘Amadora’ or ‘The cupcake company’ selling the most gorgeous westernised homemade cookies, cupcakes or ice creams, enough to make a schoolgirl’s day. I can visualise the suburbs in between the vast megacities, only reachable by train or bus, with silent and kind natives, empty, open skies, banyan trees and bullock carts.

There’s the obvious negative side exposed by the media-the poverty, rapes, deaths and flooding. All the corruption with the politicians and swindling of money, fame and power. The religious intolerance and rot memorisation based education system. The stress and depression of keeping up family and occupational expectations at the same time. There was this news that a ninth grader gave birth to a baby girl in the school toilet, nine months after getting raped. Isn’t that insane?

Well, India’s a developing country. While on one side we’ve got total jerks and morons, getting drunk and bringing shame or distrust to their families, or greedy and vain politicians, we have a selfless hard working youth. We have talented and outstanding indians in every field of studies or jobs. We have strong opinions and a story to share. We may not be too experienced, but there’s a side to india only every indian can relate to. I can’t wait to hear that yelling and those evening prayers in the temples in a week, and all that action across town in a week.

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. Kimberly says:

    One thing I’ve learned (and most likely you have, too) from living internationally is that every country has its own problems. I’m American living over in Malaysia, and I go to an international school, so I’ve got quite a diverse background. I really like your description of India–it’s a country like any other; there’s problems, but there is also beauty 🙂

    Like

    1. I really get that since my school’s rather international too. Thanks for the comment!

      Like

      1. Kimberly says:

        Ha ha, aren’t international schools fun? ^^ Racist jokes are socially acceptable and you know way more about world politics than you ever wanted to! No problem–it’s kind of fun to find someone else living overseas, too.

        Like

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