White Is The Best Colour

I spotted a little kid taking a leak today. At the mall. No, not in the washroom, as any sane person would expect, he was relieving himself in the balcony, in full view of roughly 20 other people standing around. The most disturbing fact about the whole spectacle was that he was being supervised by his mother. “Dirty Indians.” say you? Nay, this pair of mother and son was westerners.

Westerners enjoy an exalted position in the Indian society. Nothing facilitates one to jump a long queue outside a crowded night club like white skin combined with an American or British accent. Absurd as it may sound, racism is still rampant in Delhi, even after 64 years of freedom from imperialistic rule by the British. What never ceases me to surprise me is that Delhiites constantly bend over to be trod upon be westerners. In fact, it is this attitude of the natives that inflates the ego of westerners who seem to think they are above everybody else. The attitude arises from an obsessive infatuation with fair skin. It’s an infatuation we share with the rest of the nation. There would be a few countries where the sales figures of fairness creams beat the ones for India. As a result, those with fair skin automatically acquire the status of a demi-god.

In my opinion, it is better to be a westerner settled in Delhi than a VIP. It goes without saying that they do no wrong, hear no wrong, and speak no wrong, true Gandhians, if I may. If ever you wish to see a bully who never grew out of it after high school, come to Delhi and witness them in action. What is surprising about this phenomenon is the disregard westerners show towards public etiquette and the supreme confidence with which they flout rules. While I’m sure they would never be caught dead spitting in public or jump a light in their own country, they happily indulge in such activities here. ‘When in Rome, do as the romans do’ gets modified to ‘when in India, spit like the Indians do’.

A few months back, I parked my car in the underground parking of a mall, walked up to the lift lobby and politely stood with my arms raised at my side while the guard frisked me. A white gentleman walked up, ignored the walk-through metal detector as well as the guard and went directly to the lifts. My sensibilities inflamed, I enquired of the guard if it weren’t his responsibility to frisk him too. The incredulous look that earned me convinced me of one incontrovertible fact: A white man can do no wrong.

Only In Delhi.