I was watching a comedy show by 'Papa CJ' the other day…it involved his observations and interpretations about British folks and their thought process about India. It was a really funny one and he was successful in bringing many of our common thoughts to the forefront, using just 'words'. But it got me thinking about what the British way of life means to me?
Well, I have been here in England for quite few months now and yet, since I have been working from home all this time, I have got a chance to interact with very few Britishers! My parents feel amazed when I tell them that I don't know who my next door neighbor is…and I somehow can't gear up the courage to go ahead and knock on a door just to say 'Hi there, we haven't met earlier…' and so on. So on week days, my life is pretty restricted to what I see from my full length glass door from our living room.
When I am pretty much done with the decor of my dream pent house, I am shaken out of my trance by none other than Bhangra/Garba beats on a 'dholak' right in front of my building. Yes of course, it's a weekend and English-Indians are read to get married. Well, there's a wedding venue a couple of buildings from mine and every weekend, the mornings and evenings are reserved for lavish Indian weddings. The groom's family usually display their financial position by the cars they travel in…well, that's what I have come to believe now. In one of the weddings, there was a Rolls Royce which brought in the groom. The Rolls Royce came in a convoy with a couple of other Porsches'. All the 3 cars kept sounding their horns at the same timings to add to the music! They were accompanied with at least 100 other people dancing their way to glory on the Bhangra beats. All of them seemed to have emerged from a Karan Johar set! With their hair tied up in buffos, backless cholis and 5 inch stilletoes, the ladies could have very well been in Bollywood. The men were not left behind with neatly crewed hair, colorful Sherwanis, nagras or suits with red roses adorning their lapels. Once this colorful procession moved ahead, we could see the procession of cars behind. These cars are driven mostly by 'I-cannot-dance' family members of the dancing group. Mercs are common place with Ferraris and Porsches leading the pack. And here my middle class mentality keeps wondering again - what do they do in order to earn so much? 'Business' perhaps is the right answer considering most of the Indian folks here are Gujaratis.
That reminds me of our Gujarati friend in Leicester - well, he's the only one apart from my husband's office colleagues, to makes sure he talks to us everytime we cross streets. Few months back, just after we came here, my husband needed a jacket and we happened to buy one from his shop. He is a Gujarati by birth and has been here for long. His English still remains distinctly accented with Gujarati. He still feels sorry when something bad happens in India and seemed genuinely pleased when we could deliver some first hand news from his homeland. We never thought we will be talking to him again but it turned out that everytime he sees us go past his shop or perhaps somewhere else in Leicester, he waves his hand and comes up with a big broad smile on his face. He asks us whether my husband feels comfortable in the jacket he bought, he reminds us that it was an excellent bargain and after a word or two, does mention that we need different kinds of jackets during different seasons. So in case, we want to check out the new collection, we should definitely visit his shop! And strangely enough, he doesn't appear very pushy at all! Now that's what I call 'doing business' and perhaps this skill explains the expensive Gujarati weddings that we see in Leicester!
Now that I have entirely diverted off from what I started from, let me not further it. Anyway, it's 5 PM and I sit watching the Penthouse couple enjoying their evening drinks. Maybe Mr. Penthouse will start building something new soon.
Well, I have been here in England for quite few months now and yet, since I have been working from home all this time, I have got a chance to interact with very few Britishers! My parents feel amazed when I tell them that I don't know who my next door neighbor is…and I somehow can't gear up the courage to go ahead and knock on a door just to say 'Hi there, we haven't met earlier…' and so on. So on week days, my life is pretty restricted to what I see from my full length glass door from our living room.
I often watch the penthouse which is on top of a building, two rows in front of mine. A couple lives there and I often see them drinking and relaxing in beach chairs on their terrace. This usually happens around 5 PM or so and I keep wondering whether they work - in plain words how do they earn their living. Renting a penthouse is a pretty expensive affair in this area, so my amazement never ceases. This is the same time when I keep waiting for my husband who rarely returns home before 8:30 PM.
Anyway, few weeks back, I saw the guy in the penthouse bring out a wooden table sort of a thing on the terrace. He seemed to be drawing on it. From this distance I wasn't able to make out what he was doing exactly, but the next day onwards my curiosity was curbed when he started cutting the wood with a saw. He continued on it for most part of the day. Even chilly winds couldn't stop his work. I kept observing him from the warmth of my room. This went on for a few weeks when finally he started painting what he had created. He had built a painting easel or perhaps a kind of a wooden shelf. Since I had been keeping an eye on his work from day 1, I really wanted to go ahead and take a good look at it and perhaps congratulate him. But my practical senses prevailed and I did not do it. What happened in the meanwhile though is that I fell in love with the idea of a penthouse in a not-so-hot country. Full length glass walls on one side is a must and of course a big terrace, which should be decorated with lights, plants and so on…When I am pretty much done with the decor of my dream pent house, I am shaken out of my trance by none other than Bhangra/Garba beats on a 'dholak' right in front of my building. Yes of course, it's a weekend and English-Indians are read to get married. Well, there's a wedding venue a couple of buildings from mine and every weekend, the mornings and evenings are reserved for lavish Indian weddings. The groom's family usually display their financial position by the cars they travel in…well, that's what I have come to believe now. In one of the weddings, there was a Rolls Royce which brought in the groom. The Rolls Royce came in a convoy with a couple of other Porsches'. All the 3 cars kept sounding their horns at the same timings to add to the music! They were accompanied with at least 100 other people dancing their way to glory on the Bhangra beats. All of them seemed to have emerged from a Karan Johar set! With their hair tied up in buffos, backless cholis and 5 inch stilletoes, the ladies could have very well been in Bollywood. The men were not left behind with neatly crewed hair, colorful Sherwanis, nagras or suits with red roses adorning their lapels. Once this colorful procession moved ahead, we could see the procession of cars behind. These cars are driven mostly by 'I-cannot-dance' family members of the dancing group. Mercs are common place with Ferraris and Porsches leading the pack. And here my middle class mentality keeps wondering again - what do they do in order to earn so much? 'Business' perhaps is the right answer considering most of the Indian folks here are Gujaratis.
That reminds me of our Gujarati friend in Leicester - well, he's the only one apart from my husband's office colleagues, to makes sure he talks to us everytime we cross streets. Few months back, just after we came here, my husband needed a jacket and we happened to buy one from his shop. He is a Gujarati by birth and has been here for long. His English still remains distinctly accented with Gujarati. He still feels sorry when something bad happens in India and seemed genuinely pleased when we could deliver some first hand news from his homeland. We never thought we will be talking to him again but it turned out that everytime he sees us go past his shop or perhaps somewhere else in Leicester, he waves his hand and comes up with a big broad smile on his face. He asks us whether my husband feels comfortable in the jacket he bought, he reminds us that it was an excellent bargain and after a word or two, does mention that we need different kinds of jackets during different seasons. So in case, we want to check out the new collection, we should definitely visit his shop! And strangely enough, he doesn't appear very pushy at all! Now that's what I call 'doing business' and perhaps this skill explains the expensive Gujarati weddings that we see in Leicester!
Now that I have entirely diverted off from what I started from, let me not further it. Anyway, it's 5 PM and I sit watching the Penthouse couple enjoying their evening drinks. Maybe Mr. Penthouse will start building something new soon.
