Are we born snobbish?

The contents from this post is a result of a few insightful conversations with sensible people. Therefore, thank you, sensible people.You'll know who you are. (The post is not polished, and the chances of me editing it is rare.)

Ever since I got immersed in to the (non-activist) leftist movement at JNU, I have always tried to open my ears to the voices of the poor and the oppressed. I try to look out for those that 'fall between the cracks' by either blending in too much or by being too silent. The orphan and the widow; the bonded laborer, the HiV victim cannot find the words to express their distress. They have been taught to scream silently, so that people like ourselves wouldn't hear them when we walk over them. And while there are a few who take advantage of their weakness and snatch from them what little they have, the rest of us either choose not to look in that direction, or mumble a prayer before deleting the memory off our head. I however, try to keep my eyes peeled and my ears dirt-free so I can catch the slightest whimper to either pray for or do something about it. Or so i thought...

I now realize that I am far-sighted; oblivious to the problems budding in my own college campus, just until a prophetic friend pointed it out to me. There is an entire set of people in my own college that look at me as a hi-fi person. As someone brought up in several urban settings, with (relatively) extensive computer knowledge, and who calls English his heart-language, I get a status of being one of 'those' 'hi-fi' people, while the 'normal' or 'simple' people born in a rural or poorer urban set-ups do not relate with me. There are other people who refuse to converse in English, but  can understand it, and I don't make a move to get to know them. Well, we can't blame anyone for that; we all have our different wavelengths and areas of interest, and it is these that define who our friends are. 

But this obsession with sticking with 'my own kind' is the beginning of the polarization of our campus, where people form different cliques based on their ethnicity and class-status. Everybody has their own comfort zone. But this gradual increase in the chasm between cliques deafens our ears to any cry from help from outside the group. Even Facebook doesn't effectively bridge the class/ethnicity divide between groups in our campus. The Lord, who's eyes range throughout the earth looking for a heart committed to Him and His mission for the 'orphan' and the 'widow' would reject us; who refuse to lift our head outside our comfort-group-huddle and take a look around now and then.

But why is it that we don't look outside our group? Because it involves a sense of insecurity of thinking differently from those within. Thinking differently from the group could lead you to a slow exile from the group itself. But in order to stand between the gap for the poor and the oppressed such small sacrifices will have to be made.

Metro picture

The following post was typewritten on my mobile phone (T9 input) with an sms editor for my text-editing. So please adjust with the bad grammar. (Or be willing to fund an IPhone :)

Most of you (specially from delhi) would agree that one of the joys of using public transport is staring at other people.. The bunch of people sitting in front of me showed a slice of delhi culture..
The most prominent were a family of three.. migrant workers; most probably from hariyana, judging from their garb. The son, somewhere around 5 was full of life.. The father with a tiffin carrier between his fingers had an exhausted look on his face.. Obviously the family can't afford to take sunday off work, and junior had to tag along..
The kid was full of life, however.. Jumping around, asking a hundred n one questions to his mother, and playing with her.. It was nice to see the tired mom still have energy to play with her kid in spite of the hard day at work past.. Today was one of the hottest days, with temperatures blazing at 45c. The father, on the other hand, didn't want to join in the fun.. May be there was a jnu on his mind? May be he was self-conscious?
Next to this family, was a young couple engrossed with eachother; playing with a mobile phone, and learning the meaning of pda at the same time.. They paid no attention to the family next to them, even when the jittel boy put his dirty bare foot on the man's pants creating a footprint..
On the other end, was a plump man in his early 40s sporting a big moustache, he was watching the entire spectacle in disdain. Specially when the little kid put his feet on the chair, dirtying it.. The mother, catching his glance, quickly wiped off the stain with her saree, but not chiding her baby boy..
Isn't it how our city is, more or less? Mainly inhabited by the migrant worker, struggling to eke out a living, hoping to make it big in the city, and learning to find joy in little things that line their great hardships.. Our city cannot do without them.. However, the ones who have (or whose parents have) found wealth in the city either ignore the poor because they are caught up in their own world of unlimited pleasure they can now afford, judging by the new tabooless cultures they can now access due to their material surplus.. or look at them in disdain, assuming that it was all their own fault that they are poor.. But the poor are least bothered.. They cautiously keep a low profile while they continue their pursuit of happiness.

A bitter core

On my way to work, I observed this petite, strikingly attactive figure walking ahead of me at a fairly high speed. She really knew how to dress up, and make heads turn. I was walking a few 30 feet behind her, watching her and the stares from male passerby's. Some men actually stopped what they were doing and escorted her with their eyes from one end of their field of vision till she disappeared into the other.
Looking at her face, with the red Tikka on her forehead signifying that she is married, you'd say that the she must be busy thinking about her POA for another day at work.
If only all these assumptions about her were true.
She was not going to work, as the average guy would have thought. She was going to our clinic to take care of her ailing husband. He is an extremely skinny 6 footer, giving you new insight to the phrase 'skin and bones'. (And that was just an understatement). The first time I saw the couple together, I was so amazed as to how a guy, hideous as he was, could possibly manage to get such a young hottie for a wife.
To make things even more interesting, he doesn't seem grateful at all, instead, he uses her as a punching bag to vent out his frustration. Sick as he is (he cannot walk, as he cannot completely straighten his knees) he still finds the energy to beat her with whatever he can find, and verbally abuse her when she gets out of his reach. One particular night, he actually tried to hit her with a rock he had concealed under his pillow.
Both of them are HIV positive. They also have a strapping 1 year old boy, who needs to be taken care of. Taking care of a child and a childish (and extremely ill) husband could be quite a challenge.
Obviously, she would love to run away from such a nightmare. But how can she? In spite of her looks, she is HIV positive. The stars in a prospective new groom's eyes would dim into disgust the moment he hears about her HIV status. Besides, she knows that her beauty is short lived. She will in a few years fall sick, and may look just as ill and become just as grumpy as her husband, and then who will take care of her? No, not her family, because she ran away from her home to get married to this man, and the only place can get help when she becomes a widow is from her husband's family.
So, she will have to leave her child at home every day to tend and care for this beast of a man, to receive no gratitude, but only more and more hatred.
But every day, she dresses up in her best clothes and accessories, offering visual candy to all the men she passes by, and comes to the clinic to take care for one of the least attractive man she must have seen along the way.
Not because she loves him, but because she doesn't have a choice.
The second glance isn't as pleasing as the first

It's a girl! ABORT HER! It's a boy! hmm...

http://www.dnaindia.com/report.asp?NewsID=1058541

Check out that link.. It's too funny! Especially on the pathetic state this world is coming to! and it doesn't exactly put a better picture of North India than I already have! (Trackback to the previous blog on altruism., ) But still, we've got to thank those doctors for all the hard work they're doing trying to get a balance in the male-female ratio! but they're getting their paycheck anyway, so why bother?

And besides, what is this world coming to? If every man tries to get more than his share of the meat laid out for all using means practically unnecessary, what will we see at the end? Nothing for nobody! and yet again.. hmm...

anyways, i've been staring at this screen for the past 15 minutes, and I haven't been able to say anything funny or witty or even sarcy about this newsbit... hmm... I guess I'm driven beyond depression!