The Gifted

 

The significant other and I had an invite for dinner from another couple. It was the first time we were visiting their home, and thought we should carry something with us to gift them. After much dilly-dallying and scratching our heads we found something we agreed on, ordered and got it in the nick of time. Now, the gift needed wrapping too. I set about doing it, and surprisingly did a decent job of it - a first of sorts! It reminded me of my umpteen failures with gift wrapping - and one particular incident that happened in the presence of a close friend that has stayed fresh in the mind.  

********

It was a gift I’d bought for my niece, and I was wrestling with the paper, struggling to pack it decently. It was already the second sheet, the first having crumpled and torn. My friend, who was watching my efforts with a smile, asked me to move aside and took over the task.

In no time, the gift was transformed. It was a crisp, clean cube, looking like a professional boutique job. He was always relentlessly meticulous. Even when he'd drop into my office, he'd set my disarrayed desk in order—straightening stacks, aligning pencils. He would even go to the extent of cleaning my spectacles, which were invariably greasy, smudged, and utterly dirty.

I laughed as he finished packing, and said, "If I were living in ancient times, I would have struggled to survive and perished soon."

"Why do you think so?"

"Look at me! I have zero survival skills. I’d not have hunted because I can’t see blood. I’d have killed an entire field of plants trying to grow them. No artistic or carpentry skills. How would I have ever eked out a living?"

"Well, if you were in ancient society, you’d have been a shaman of the tribe," he smiled. “You know you have a way with your words”.  

My face lit up. “Oh yeah, I can totally see it. Trying to cure people of their blind beliefs, or their mental troubles!" I said excitedly.

"Or giving them some new ones," my friend added, totally deflating me.

Elitist Eligibility: Matrimonials!

I am generally a fan of the Sunday edition of the Economic Times, specifically for its weekend mix of non-economic news. Today, however, was exceptional. Amid the flurry of election-season stories—insightful pieces on loyal party voters and interviews with ministers—a familiar undercurrent of bias in the larger Times group publications remains.

But as I scanned the pages, what truly arrested my attention was the matrimonial section. Under the banner of ‘Elite Grooms/Brides,’ I found seven advertisements each for prospective brides and grooms, offering a stark glimpse into the social contract of modern India.

Invariably, every single ad was a ledger of social and economic standing—which is to say, a clear declaration of caste and net worth (in crores), alongside the usual vital statistics. While the ads were predominantly from North India, a pattern emerged that speaks volumes.

Almost every groom exclusively sought a bride from his own community. The sole exception was one South Indian groom who was open to any community. In sharp contrast, not one single bride sought a partner exclusively from her own caste. The only geographical preference was one girl who specified South Indian men, again, without a caste restriction.

The Conclusions I Draw

The contrast is undeniable, leading to these conclusions about the drivers of Indian society:

 * The Ties that Bind Men: Men remain firmly tethered to the apron strings of their mothers and the purse strings of their fathers. This preference for endogamy suggests a refusal to risk losing either the comfort of the maternal nest or the inheritance of the paternal wealth.

 * Women as the Vanguard of Change: It is women who are the catalysts for genuine social progress. Every significant, positive change we witness—be it challenging dowry or dismantling the caste system—is championed by them. Their lack of caste restriction in these ads underscores their push toward a post-caste future.

 * The Elite Status Quo: Men appear more concerned with preserving their elite status, not just economically, but also socially. By underscoring the importance of caste in alliances, they actively maintain the societal hierarchy.

 * Divergent Aspirations: Women seem to prioritize happiness and pursue goals that fundamentally clash with those of the typical, status-driven Indian man. The profound strife and friction we observe in society today are rooted in these conflicting, unequal aspirations.

A cursory look at social media also indicates how the general public conducts itself on issues of gender and freedom. With such a deeply entrenched love for caste and hierarchy, it is little wonder that the political pulse of the country leans so heavily to the far right, and that money flows so naturally into their coffers and election war-chests. The country, perhaps, gets the rulers it deserves. Education be damned. Ditto social change and equality.

The Accidental Influencer

It was early morning. Not my preferred time to fly, and I was pacing the airport hall, waiting aimlessly for the boarding call for my flight back to Namma Bengaluru. As I approached the gate, looking for any sign of activity, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

A man, perhaps in his mid-to-late 30s, was grinning broadly. "You look familiar to me," he said. "Like I know you so well."

I searched my memory. Nothing. "I'm sorry," I replied, scratching my head. "I don't seem to recall."

"It's fine," he insisted. "Aren't you [xxxx]? I follow you on Instagram!"

The name and handle he used at first didn't register. "Would you mind repeating that?"

"It's okay," he conceded. "Maybe I confused you with someone—[xxxx]—who I follow on Instagram”, and went on to repeat the name and handle of the person he follows. 

We both exchanged polite reassurances. Then he volunteered more information: "These days, everyone is flaunting their grey hair and beard proudly. I was influenced by him to stop coloring my hair."

"That's nice," I responded.

He continued, observing me critically. "It's uncanny how much you look like him. Maybe it's just that every middle-aged man is growing one now."

I gave a knowing, perhaps 'sage,' nod. I bit back the urge to tell him three things:

 * My grey hair hasn't seen dye in over fifteen years.

 * My grey beard is equally venerable.

 * I was indeed the 'xxxx' he followed on Instagram.

Despite the exhilarating, albeit confusing, compliment of being recognized and credited as an influencer (even by just one person), I immediately felt a profound discomfort. I was not up to being fawned over.

We are all creatures who crave attention and the spotlight, yet it's only when we are near that light that we realize how difficult it is to live under its continuous glare. In that moment, a wave of genuine empathy washed over me for everyone in public life—especially film and sports personalities—who are incessantly mobbed, yet panned and dragged through the mud the moment they seek privacy.

*****

I proceeded to board my flight, and soon forgot about this, as I landed and continued with my office chores. Several days later, I was  cleaning up my messages on Instagram, and one caught my attention. 

“I know it was you who I ran into at the airport. You didn’t have to display so much of airs and deny.  I am unfollowing you”.