The Dystopian Paradox

Lessons the country taught me but forgot itself. 

It perplexes me as I finish 3 years of undergraduate studies with a group of adventurous friends. This group of friends seldom pushed me leaps and beyond to excel in academics but rather helped broaden my perspective. Language, customs, traditions; the three pillars that make India diverse. When I signed up for undergraduate classes my imagination took me places, Giving me a false impression of a college. When classes commenced, the brutal reality of college broke a variety of stereotypes. 

But what survived the domino effect of fragile stereotypes was the concept of diversity. In a group of 7 friends, no 2 people spoke the same native language. Where one spoke the northern dialect of Kannada, she was not understood by someone who spoke urban Kannada. With no question of the westernized Tamilian raised the eyebrows of the rest, including the guy who spoke shattered Tamil. All stared at the Malayali and the Konkan, who felt like the ambassadors of resource-deficit Iran and North Korea hosting a cultural program in ANTARCTICA. The group exemplified a kaleidoscope. A fusion of identities and lifestyles which ranged from clothing to food and views to political interest. The university felt not like an institute of education but like the United Nations General Assembly.  

Clearly, the college and the group of friends I spent time with come from a variety of backgrounds representing various cultures. This was where my biggest learning in college was. Diversity symbolizes a coin, a coin with two contrasting sides. On one side of it we see absolute darkness and the other radiating light of hope. When surrounded by a diverse group of friends, it comes with its hurdles. Surprisingly, as a group, we have the unique ability to altercate over the restaurant to visit but the next day end up in one of our houses wallowing on piping hot Holige. We have the ability to fight over political policies but come together when we need to criticize the government when they close mosque road during Ramadan (we do not appreciate food taken away from us). There is also a well-spoken rule that any couple, married or not are not in true love if they don't scream at their significance other. Every pair fight which proves love, two friends fight, which proves friendship, and every sibling does too which speaks volumes of care. Fights and altercations are not limited to humans, there has not gone a day when my two lovely pets bark and bite each other, but when the sun sets, when the coin flips, they need each other to get past the scary night. 

Similar to how we as lovers, friends, siblings fight, fights show love and compassion. But does that mean when people of the country have a disagreement followed by fist fight, they did so because they care for each other? Maybe. The incredible story of red and black ants in a jar perfectly exemplifies the situation. 

India as a country spends more time speaking of communal hot spots more than about the unimaginable level of poverty in the country. Does the person who has not food on the table worry about what the other religion does? What causes us to talk irrelevance? Newton's first law of motion aptly explains the solution to the communal drift in the country. Do they truly need the attention they crave? During my college days, I have involved myself in altercations that can be classified as communal, but the peers I have argued with have joined me in celebrating Christmas. I have joined my peers for Ganesha Chaturthi, Ugadi, Dasara and during many other occasions. When the sun sets and gets dark, when the coin flips, we know we need each other to live a life beautifully. 

We need to remember what made the red ant attack the black ant or the other way round. The cause was not because they cannot coexist, but because someone else involved them in their cynical plans. Diversity should not only be celebrated but also remembered during dystopian times. Remember the mothers and sisters who invited you home just because they value you. Remember the brothers and fathers who shared their liquor collection with you for good times. Remember the times when gully cricket united the residents of the street you live in. This country is special; it is diverse, it is complex but that is what makes it so beautiful. Where there is light there is darkness, where there is comfort there is pain, where there are angels protecting the uniqueness (diversity) of the country, there are sinister ones too. 

Focus on the ones who unite not divide, 

Because when the sun sets, when the coin flips, 

when you have no water but direly need a sip, it is your Neighbour who gives you a gigantic glass of water. 

For those who have instilled a sense of hope in me during dystopian times, for those who made me feel like their own, for those who invited me over during their special days just because spending time together is simple beautiful, 

Thank you very much. 

Special mention: 

Radhika aunty from Avenue Road, 

Padma aunty from Vyalikaval, 

Shilpa aunty from Koramangala,

and 

Padma aunty from KR Puram for inviting me home and sharing those amazing delicacies with me.