I am outraged, I tell you, as I sit at my desktop writing this piece in my Sheraton bathrobe. So outraged that I haven’t touched a drop of the instant coffee that’s turned cold in my Welcom mug. (Note to self: coffee sachets from Best Western are almost done; need to pick up more on next trip.)
And I can tell you my outrage is anything but selective.
I speak of that somewhat tasteless, misleading video clip, of course. The one pertaining to a Bali hotel in which a noble, innocent family from our glorious land is insulted. It is nothing but a jealous and desperate attempt to foist a false narrative on our ancient culture and pristine values. Not to mention, derail our space programme.
Whoever put it up on social media is trying to insinuate that this lovely, close-knit Bharatiya family has stolen a speaker, a hair dryer head, a shower set and a dinner knife, among other insignificant items. But here’s what these less-evolved cultures need to understand about the very core of Indianness.
We don’t see this as stealing. We see it as collecting souvenirs, gathering memorabilia... a little something to remember the vacation by. It has been an approved practice in our culture since Puranic times. Who among us hasn’t returned with a pepper shaker, a dessert spoon or that abandoned laptop at the reception after a deeply satisfying stay at a seaside or mountain resort?
For argument’s sake, for a second, let’s agree with the complainants’ view. My question, then, is where was your vigilance, your accusatory forefinger and your camera phone when the British stole the Koh-i-Noor from us, I say? Ha! Surely, the Koh-i-Noor is definitely worth more than a dryer head (whatever that might be), wouldn’t you say?
Note another important difference here. When the family was accused of stealing, which they most certainly weren’t guilty of, did they fight back? Did they create a scene? Did they ask, “Do you know who my father is?” No, sir.
They followed Plan B, instead. The time-tested prayaschittam method approved by our books. They relied on Swami Thengai Srinivasananda’s go-to tenet, that of samayochita pratishama (loosely translated: that-that-time, that-that-do), and offered to pay. Had they been requested, each member of the family would have gladly written, “I will not reallocate fixed and non-fixed items from hotels,” a hundred times in a double-ruled notebook.
Can’t say the same for the British, or the Mughals, can we? I haven’t seen a single imposition written by either.
Here’s a thought. Whoever put up this clip could make amends. By sending the Brits (and the Mughals) a bill for the Koh-i-Noor on our behalf. And not forget to add GST.
Also, let us assure you that we don’t only take things when we visit foreign lands. We leave back things, too. Protected monuments from across the world stand testament to this. Have you not seen ‘Kogul loves Batma’ or ‘Contact Mrs Gupta for gingelly oil massage’ scrawled on the walls, surfaces and ceilings of landmarks, both natural and man-made, around the globe?
Who do you think is behind this selfless cultural exchange? These deeply personal details are etched for posterity by none other than the tireless Indian tourist.
Give and take, it’s called. It’s the very essence of Indianness.
Finally, Bali — and all others like those selective outrage fellows — please take these things into account before you go around making wild accusations. We have the tallest statue in the world. We are getting the bullet train. And we have Arnab Goswami.
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is a satirist. He has written four books and edited an anthology.
