Vignettes of the देस (country)

It's midnight. After a very long week of work in Milwaukee and a 3 very productive days in Dhaka I'm finally in Delhi after a long flight. I get into a Maruti van taxi on a cool (cold?) Delhi night. Driver rings up his "brother"to join him for the journey. Chalo, theek hai. Why not.

Get on the DND flyover and try to give the guy directions to my aunt's place in Noida. "Sir Ji, vaise humaari Noida ki gaadi nahin hai. Aap seedhe raaste se hi le jaaiye"(My cab's not allowed to go to Noida, direct me through a straight route... so I don't get busted). "If you wanted to go ANYWHERE in Delhi, I'd be able to take you." And promptly starts to list out all the different hotels of Delhi and how he knows the route to each one of them.

The foggy cold of the night doesn't help my cool. I ask him, no admonish him, to stop talking 'bakwaas' (crap) at 12:30 at night.

I spend the rest of the ride thinking if I wasted an opportunity to listen, and teach. And that I've made myself just a little bit lonelier on this planet.

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Next morning at 9:15am. I'm in my aunt's little Maruti car, cozy in the back seat, laptop case in lap, being dropped off. I am stunned by the beautiful greenery of New Delhi, lush in the winter. Note to self: trees make a city much much more humane.

Arrive at the Ashok hotel for a meeting with my manager and attend part of a conference. Guard in full pageantry asks me to get my laptop scanned. I enter and try to act busy to not pay too much attention to the lobby. It's beautiful. The lighting. The space. The finesse of the wooden carvings. And that ancient sculpture. The marble water pond in the middle. The soft white marble floors. I could sleep on them, they look so soft. Like clouds.

I am surprisingly at home (it's a hotel), and yet lost in this unfamiliar opulence. We're not in Bagar anymore Dorothy.

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2:45pm. In another Maruti van taxi to commission a design consulting firm. Lost in my thoughts, thinking of the smell of the 'Achaari Arbi' on my fingers that I had for lunch at the Ashok.

This old man raps on the window and starts pleading for money. I take a startled glance, dismiss him as a bhikaari (beggar) and look away. And then look back - he's pressing a sheet of paper to the window. This is new. Pointing to a bundle wrapped in a shawl on his shoulder, "Babu, mera baccha beemar hai, ilaaj ke liye paaise chahiye, daakter ki parchi bhi hai". (My kid is sick, I need money for his treatment). I look closer at the piece of paper. Safdarjung Hospital. It's not quite an Rx slip, too big for that. I can't read the freaking doctor's handwriting, which reassures me (it must be legit, I chuckle on the inside). I can read the date. Dec 16, 2010. OK, this man's not faking. This other lady comes in and pleads, "De do bauji, kuch madad karo. Yeh bhikaari nahin hai, majboori mein maang raha hai. Apne bacche ke liye maang raha hai". (He's not a beggar sir, he's asking because he's desperate. He's asking for his child).

I'm now calculating. I take out of a wad of notes. 500 seems too much. 10 is inconsequential. I peel off a 50 rupee note and show it to him. The window's closed. I give it to the driver and the guy almost snatches it out of his hand and just takes off.

The driver remains expressionless. I tell myself he's silently judging.

I process. Maybe he's in cohoots with the doctor. But the date. Maybe someone stole a whole bunch of prescription pads and started doing this. But the child. Wait, was there a child? I just saw a bundle of something on his shoulder. Shit, did I get duped? No, I didn't. I gave out of the goodness of my heart. It frees me. Life will punish him. He cried wolf. Over his sick kid. Fuck, am I getting satisfaction by thinking that life will befell the plague on his kids?

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5:45 pm. I'm getting dropped off after commissioning the research. It's cool to see a group of young guys in India talking about ethnographic research and rural observations and design thinking. I feel good. And I know I added value.

Thoughts go back to the bhikaari:

Ashish, is there any 'karuna' (kindness) left in your heart? You gave him out of evidence, proof.

but but but sustainability and true need and teaching a man to fish...

GIVE.

but development and business school and ...

GIVE

but but he may duped me...

GIVE.

but but but...ah ok, we're at the Metro station. Over and Out.

I walk up to this beautiful Metro station. A few street kids are running around. one is writhing on the floor, crying. A kid stands over the cry baby with a stern look and kicks him again. The kid cries more.

You should done something

I am minding my business

You shoulda done something

I can't do anything there. Nothing I could give would solve that problem.

You always have love.

I keep walking towards the gleaming glass doors. Never skipped a beat.

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4:30am

My phone rings. That's weird - it's my sister's father in law.

Namaste Uncleji.

Kaun, Ashish?

Haan

Kab aaye?

Kal, nahin parson, nahin kal raat

Accha nanaji kahaan hai?

So rahe hain

Accha. Unko bataa dena ki amma ji ka dehaant ho gaya.

(I have my grandpa's phone. He had called to inform that his mother had just passed away)

Wake up mynanaji ( my maternal grandpa - well, my mom's mother's younger sister's husband, so still very close). Tell him the news. I thought there would be more expression on his face. I just woke up an old man from his sleep, what expression do I expect at 4:30am. Well, he's probably known a lot of people passed away by now.

He calls back. Gets the info. They've been friends for 40 yrs, it must be comforting for my sister's father-in-law (let's just call him Uncleji).

Action plan: Uncleji's mom is going to be cremated on the banks of the Gangaji (Ganges river, always with a suffixed ji for respect. Sometimes mayya for mother). Ashish, you have to go and represent your family. They see just a hint of hesitation. If you weren't here, no worries, but you're in Delhi. Yes, I say. I'll rearrange my meetings.

I call my manager in the US. I'll meet the other research firm in the evening. I'll make sure they know exactly what we want. Yes, of course, I'll be the hardass and let you know whether they're capable of delivering in Indonesia.

He's understanding about the situation. We end up talking business for a good half hour too.

It's 5:30am now. I'm wired. Can't sleep for 2.5 hrs and be functional - shouldn't have spent so much time gupshupping with mamiji (my aunt). Yes I should have. But you have people to meet tis evening. And drinks to drink tonight.

OK. I lie down again. Sleep comes easy

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6am - The home phone rings. I pick it up. It's nanaji (maternal grandpa - well, my mother's mom's younger sister's son's wife's father, so still pretty close). Namaste nanaji I say.

We'll all be carpooling to Gangaji for the cremation.

I remember back to Bagar. I know I was finally a part of the community when I was expected to attend the antim sanskaar (literally, last rites).

I'm wired now.

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6:30am - sitting down and chatting with my naniji (grandma - mother's mom's sister...ok ok, you get it by now). Nanaji and I start talking. We get onto the topic of dahej (dowry). Naniji's recounting how she decided the moment her son was born that she wouldn't take any for him. Nanaji's surprised - he's never heard this one before. I'm somehow not surprised - when would she ever get to share this with him? When would it ever have been appropriate.

6:45am - Yay conversation. Headed discussion on 'be the change you wish to bring in society'- my grandpa doesn't bring up the exact Gandhi quote. He thinks no dowry is silly - too extreme - just take a little bit according to customs. I say no, you have to be unreasonable to set an example. The people are average, I pontificate, to steer them you have to be completely extreme. I cite Gandhi's example - would anybody have listened to him if he went on half a roti diet instead of a complete hunger strike? Now I'm inspired. Would America have listened to the terrorists if all they did was decide to go to NYC and slap those bad Americans in the face? That was a silly example Ashish. I mean Nanaji, whether for good or bad, you have to be extreme. He's moved on to the next conversation in his mind. A little here and there. And he's gone in 5 minutes.

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7am - I am still inspired and feel the need to edify Pontificus Maximus. Naniji. Well, we've never talked. I don't know how it happens, but I find myself lecturing to her on how India's the sickest country. Poor people and rich people disease. I translate "15% of the world's population but 30-4o% of the world's burden of disease" in Hindi. She's still smiling. Did I see an eyebrow raised?

She asks me what I do. AH, wow, we've never really talked have we. I attempt to tell her, not so shpielish this time. And so your company's transferring you to Bangalore? Well, actually, yes, yes they are. When? April? The weather's nice there. It's great I say. The cafeterias in the GE building are open air, no fans. That's right, the weather's so great there, don't even need fans at home. Sniff Sniff. Pontificus Maximus has the scent. Naniji - you have to come down. I'll show you my office. Big campus. Beatiful trees. GE is this great big company, 4400 researchers in B'lore, jet engines to medical devices. She's still smiling. Did I see an eyebrow raised?

Pontificus is not satisfied. I start down the path of all the other problems in India. And how we can make money from it. I recount to her the vision of CK Prahalad (famous guy, everyone in India respected him I tell her). He told us once that everyone in India knows the issue, you got to present it as an opportunity. I feel flippant - see naniji, society has all these issues, i can't stop it, but i can serve them by making money by fixing the issues. I talk about low-cost dentures for the Gutkha chewers. I talk about a personalized matchmaking service for the communities-which-have-killed-their-girl-childs. I talk about the 1000cr Indian Railways budget for cleaning services and how this man privatized it and delivered quality and why as taxpayers we shouldn't care because the govt is our servant and we don't pay the government to hire more servants that don't do anything and so i don't care if the government (my servant naniji, our servant, i remind her) pays a private entrepreneur to hire other poor guys to clean the trains.

She's still smiling. Did I see an eyebrow raised?

Pontificus Maximus is satisfied.

I am inspired. I wrap myself up in a shawl. And I write.

On giving in India

This article sparked something in me enough to write: India's Rich, Open Your Wallets

It goes into how Bill Gates received the Gandhi Prize for Peace, Disarmament and Development on behalf of the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, which has poured a $1bn into India. Clearly, not ALL of this money has been put to the best use (see How Bill Gates Blew $258 million in India's HIV Corridor). There are clearly many many things that I could comment on based on my own experience in rural India. I know there are friends of mine who work in global HIV/AIDS from the public health angle, and they too have quite a bit of criticism.

However, my point today is simply the scale of the spending, and the main point that the first article tries to drive home: India's rich need to open their wallets more

While Bill Gates IS super rich and he DOES have a lot of disposable income, there are many billionaires and multi-millionaires in the new 'shining' India. Adjusting for Purchasing Power Parity (PPP), which roughly stands around 4 times the official exchange rate, these people have significant levels of income at their disposal.

Which begets the question - why don't India's wealthy give back more?

The article does an excellent job of presenting many different reasons and opinions on why this is the case. Personally, I have to agree with Tarun Das that there aren't enough outlets for giving. It makes sense that the rich, many of them corporate titans who have made their fortunes by driving hard bargains and results-at-all-costs, would want the same value-for-money and concrete results in their philanthropy. PR at a large scale is not enough simply because it's not NEEDED. Unlike the US, where a corporation's social commitment and community outreach genuinely factor into how well communities accept and support them, and if top talent chooses to work with them, this is really not the case in India. A new middle class is being minted in India, and the only bottomline for talented youth is the financial one at this point. There is no judgement here - it simply is. It makes sense. There is limited choice. The generation before us, my parent's generation, still teaches us the 'conservative', risk-averse way, and reminds us of our 'responsibilities' to the family.

Another favorite line in India is echoed in this article: "Charity begins at home". The typical argument from parents is that yes, it's a good thing to serve and give back, but why don't you serve and give back your immediate family? It's a strong argument, and perhaps relevant to families rising in the socio-economic totem pole. However, for MANY of the families I have encountered, the rest of the nuclear & extended family is doing a good enough job by themselves. Secondly, this is EXACTLY the mindset that we as Indians need to move beyond. It is a question of identity, and how generous you are in your definition of it. Is it enough to be just a particular family from a particular town? Or a particular sub-caste from a particular region? Or a particular caste from a particular state? Or 'high society' vs. 'low society'? Clearly, if you draw this argument out, the only universal truth is to consider yourself as a being of the larger universal, with responsibility towards all, living or human or not. However, the journey from the intellectual answer to spiritual realization is vast, and for most will span multiple lifetimes. Perhaps due to my upbringing, and definitely due to the Indicorps, I choose to look at my identity as that of an Indian, and choose to revel in the idiosyncrasies of all the sub-identities within that. What's not OK to me, and this is gut not intellect speaking, is to limit charity to home. That's the cop-out answer.

For the wealthy to start their charity at an individual/local level, however, makes sense to me. My experience has taught me that we will only climb over brick walls for things that matter to us, that which we personally identify with, where we have 'skin-in-the-game'. And if I choose to be forgiving and be OK with the fact that everyone is at a different point the spectrum of identity, then that's where they should start. For example, the Piramal Foundation, who funded the Grassroots Development Laboratory (GDL), chose to begin its activities in their ancestral home of Bagar, Rajasthan. It's a great place to start, because there is goodwill in the community, people trust your intentions, and you have room to learn from your mistakes. But many a foundations tend to limit themselves to only their ancestral homes, or where they have factories. Foundations that can afford to have massive scale need to step beyond their places of start. I applaud the Piramal Foundation in learning from their experience in Bagar and working towards spreading their work beyond, and I will be keenly following their expansion over the next few years.

There is one 'gap' in my argument here. Beyond the debate of whether charity is good or bad, I see the 'operational' roles of foundations as one of two. First, they can either try to tackle one particular problem or issue e.g. clean water or AIDS or education etc. In this case, once they figure out the solution, they should expand geographically to the greatest extent possible and spread that benefit (yes, greed is good). The other option is that they 'adopt' a particular region. In this case, they should take a holistic view of development in this region, and try to solve EVERY problem that arises. Again, all of this is a theoretical extrapolation, and I completely understand the complexities and ground realities of scaling organizations, particularly those that are mission-based. Looking at it from a business perspective, we can transpose these two options as (1) Producers of goods / services (2) Distributors of goods/services. Piramal Foundation has taken the role of the first, and are thus pushing market-bases / sustainable solutions to particular issues, great example being the expansion of Sarvajal into different territories. I had a chance to visit a foundation in Hyderabad this past April, and I recommended the latter option to them - their 'identity' and 'mission' was much more to help the people where their factories were located, as well as a couple of adopted districts of Andhra Pradesh. But I did push them to think beyond 'good enough' - Yes, 10 free pyaaus (free water stations during India's blistering summer) are great, but why not a 100 or a 1000 to cover all of your area? And also to think holistically about the needs of that area, beyond the projects that were sparked largely by the inspiration of the foundation's team and chairwoman.

All things aside, I strongly believe that India needs its rich to identify with the poor, and open not just their wallets, but also their influence and tenacity to help those in need. Some of the complacency comes from the hangover of the bygone socialist era - 'it's the government's job'. And as much as I applaud Bill Gates generosity, some of it comes from the money being poured in by international aid organizations.

I have a radical thought for India. Why don't we work towards stopping all international aid? And instead find a way, a call-to-action for our own rich? Perhaps one man in India won't part with $1bn, but 10 Indians together can. Will India's rich rise to the occasion if the national identity and self-reliance was called into question? Would ads reminding us of India's 'beggar bowl' image from back in the early 60s do the trick?