So! Another Indian attacked down under. Eh?
Darn it!
Yeh Australians
toh haath dho kar peeche pad gaye hain hum Indians
ke.
Of course, we Indians are no strangers to discrimination and racism in our own country.
Some of us don’t think twice about overcharging/fleecing the white guy and leering at the white woman.
Either that or we bend backwards to please them. And lets admit it, most of us are openly distrustful of Africans.
A couple of days back Hindustan Times ran a tri- part series on discrimination in our city, which reminded me of what I had personally gone through a couple of years back.
I was returning from Joggers park in Bandra and saw a store (famous for their carpets) display a
70% off sign. Still in my sweats, I just walked in.
The store was empty except for a woman at the cash counter talking to a well dressed white woman. Since I couldn’t make out which items were on sale, I asked the lady at the counter if they had any curtains on sale.
At first she ignored me and carried on talking to the foreigner.
A minute later when it seemed that she was not about to help me, I interrupted her saying “Excuse me”, ‘Yes” she sharply turned and looked at me as a though a trifle irritated. “Could you tell me if the curtains are on sale?” I asked.
“Yes they are” she answered curtly before turning to resume her conversation with the white lady (who was being told, where else she can shop, for what, in Colaba).
I meekly went to the lone salesman and asked him to show me some curtain fabric. When I asked for more than one sample, (I had to match them to the upholstery at home) he told me “Ask madam”.
Reluctantly I went back to the lady at the counter, who was still talking to the white lady and was very enthusiastically answering all her queries, her head bobbing up and down and smiling so hard, I could almost hear her cheek muscles creak.
Again she pointedly ignored me till I butted in. “Excuse me, but could you give me some more samples?”.
‘No m’am’ she said stressing on the ‘m’am’ in a most unfriendly tone. “We do not give more than one sample!”.
“Please!” I beseeched. “Oh! OK!” she said, rolling her eyes and told her bored attendant “sample
de doh”.
Her tone, body language and expressions were such a contrast to the way she was talking to this
gora lady that I was maha pi_ _ _ d off.
“What is your name?” I asked her. “Arva! why?” she demanded, almost hostile now.
Just at that very moment a burqa-clad lady walked in with a man. They seemed to be of West-Asian origin.
A funny expression came over Madam Arva’s face.
Hurriedly she beckoned her salesman who, (till now too busy to help me) almost jumped up and started walking behind the couple, scrutinizing their every move closely and with suspicion.
Every time the browsing couple stopped, he’d almost bump into them. Faced with such unfriendly behavior they soon left.
This obnoxious and blatant discrimination made me so angry I could scarcely breathe.
Within a span of barely twenty minutes, three different people, from different backgrounds, all customers, had been treated so different, by the same person.
The white woman was fawned upon like a queen, the brown woman had at first been ignored and then tolerated like a pesky fly and the poor burqa-clad woman with partner had been treated with suspicion and dislike.
Like I said we Indians are no strangers to our own
desi brand of racism.
I never went back to that store. I never will.
Speaking of burqas………..while I disagree with the French President’s definition of what a burqa stands for, I think that just like a white woman in Saudi Arabia would not be able to practice her liberal sense of dressing or even her religion, similarly, if the French do not want their Muslim citizens to wear a burqa, is it really that bad?
When in France, do as the French do…
Au revoir!!
Michael Jackson is a perfect example of what childhood abuse can do.
