The Vacation Situation

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For all the brave face that we put up, we Indians aren't very proud of ourselves.

We (proudly) claim to be the largest democracy in the world, which only means that in area we are much smaller than the United States, and in terms of population we don't have an inch of free space left in the country.

There are more people crowding offices, there are more children in schools, there are more unemployed, there are more beggars on the street, there are more roadside vendors, there are more of everything.
There is such a thing as the poverty line and there are a huge number of people struggling under its shadow. The gap between the haves and have-nots is large.
There are too many people and too less services to cater to each. There is little to be shared, so the first ones to get to it takes it all. There are too many vehicles on the road vying to get ahead and too many pedestrians shoving forward, because no one wants to get stuck forever. There are too many bad roads than anyone can fix.

We have no option but to find ways to dispose of the garbage within our own country and by polluting our own air, and by dirtying our own seas.

In the crowded, humid scheme of things, frustration and annoyance and rage does escape even those of us who normally are in the best of behaviour elsewhere.

We are located towards the warmer zones of the planet through no choice of our own, but that has gifted us some of the most picturesque places in the world. We have a rich culture, we have many religions, we have several languages, we have an outstanding history, we have more good men and women than any of us care to remember (or admit).

We have a fairly good education system that churns out millions of bright kids every year.
Some of these children go abroad to put their education to good use and make better lives for themselves and their own. We send them. We tell them, Go, show the world who we are.
And then.
And then, they come back for a week every year to visit their homes and relatives.
And then, they complain about the bad roads, poor governance, vanishing greenery, stifling traffic, heat, illiteracy, unclean food, mosquitoes, toilets, rooms, water, air, sky, land and the people. The people, most of all, the unbelievably unbearable people.

We, who live in India, might whine like a child complaining about her mother. (Or a mother about her child. But if a stranger utters one bad word about her child, you can see how fiercely the mother could turn against them.) We live here, we are a part of the system. We can whine, and we will whine. That's one of the rights of the resident citizen. But when we hear you, our blood boils. And in the crowded, frustrated, helpless, distressed scheme of things - you know what happens to the best of us.

Please, please, go elsewhere for your vacations.

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