What our ‘new India’ is all about
Our son, here on a sabbatical from Rio where he lives and teaches, just sent me some photos taken at a birthday party his little girls were invited to. Held in a venue in a posh Delhi enclave, there is a fully-equipped play area for the children, one for accompanying mothers and yet another for drivers and nannies. With food, games, clowns and what have you, the charge for a party with say 30 children is a cool lakh or so. He was gob-smacked at what the new India was all about.
To say that I was aghast at these revelations is an understatement as my mind went back to the memories of my own children’s birthday parties all those years ago in Chandigarh. Mothers like me, with limited means and tight budgets, then tried to do everything at home. So, from baking the birthday cake to the snacks and games, we did it all. Each year, the boys wanted a cake of their farmaish — a castle, a tennis racquet, a swimming pool — and haunted the kitchen as I baked it. Then, all I had was a small round oven that worked on prayers. How they fought among themselves to lick the batter and icing after the cake was dressed and ready! In those days, most of their friends lived close-by, so they arrived straight from school and chased each other round the house, driving us mad. Bursting the balloons was a favourite naughty game they played, much to our chagrin.
We also believed then that all the snacks must be home-made so that they were healthy and not likely to cause digestive problems later. The cook would send me frantic SoS-es to ban the kids from eating them up before he was ready to put them on the table. My husband was in charge of the games, such as Pinning the Tail on the Donkey and Treasure Hunt. We had also to make sure that they all got ‘back presents’ at the end: simple, inexpensive gifts such as sweet cigarettes (in those un-woke times, they were very popular among little kids) and a bag of sweets or sharpeners and erasers. One year, when I gave whistles, I got phone calls from irate mothers driven crazy with the noise thereafter. All this nostalgia for a lost age makes me smile even now.
How far middle-class India has come in just two or three decades! Children now are spoilt for choice, with picnics organised in exotic locations by indulgent parents who order hampers from posh hotels, parties in farm houses with private swimming pools and acres of lawn, and event managers who curate special birthday parties. Few parents can withstand the pressure from peer groups and brave is the family that still cooks and bakes at home. Before I forget, apart from the children, one has to also provide suitable food packets for the nannies and drivers who ferry these children across the city. I reel at the thought of the expenses and work involved.
It is the same with weddings now. Simple, homely rituals and food are passe and until a wedding is a big bang one, or held in an expensive resort or hotel, guests snigger at the tawdriness of it. Simplicity is now often viewed as being miserly and cheap. As I remember my own childhood, the memories are even more unbelievable. Our birthdays were celebrated according to the lunar (not Gregorian) calendar and the rituals that went along with the traditional rules were observed. It began with a token anointing bath sitting in a parat, as my mother would pour water on me, chanting ‘Gange ch Yamune chaiva, Godavari Saraswati…’ to bless me with the waters of all the rivers in India. Dressed in new clothes with a tilak on our foreheads, we were then served delicious home-made puas and kheer. A panditji would occasionally be summoned to perform Markandeya Puja, special on such occasions. I think the last one I had was when my husband turned 60 and his shashtipurti was celebrated.
Soon, these charming rituals will vanish and as we become more politically correct and woke, they may even be considered as markers of a caste system that divided people. While this may be true, it is equally true that such rituals were occasions to thank the gods, parents, gurus, nature and the world around us. Sadly, they are remembered for what they may not have meant to be, but even worse is that they have been replaced by a kind of celebration that has place for just food and a vulgar display of wealth. Earlier, we all celebrated our festivals and such occasions in the same way; now the sheer scale and expense makes it out of the reach of ordinary people. So, instead of bringing people closer and creating an egalitarian society, we have managed to do the exact opposite.
These are questions that trouble me as we inch closer to the centenary of our hard-won Independence. Gandhiji and his followers have few followers now and although we evoke his name at the drop of a hat and accuse each other of betraying his way of life, we are all guilty of privately promoting what was never his desire to usher in.
This new India is nothing like what it once was.
