It’s 8pm on Sunday night, and while the sun is rising over American soil, the Indian moon has begun its climb in a sky that shows no stars. The television of my somewhat lavish apartment is currently a flashback of 80’s-style pop mixed with modern-day sex in its display of India’s comical Bollywood music videos. Top actresses lip-sync to songs, adorned in neon colors, with dancers moving in synchronized formations around their scantily clad body draped in ribbons and leather. Top actors serenade them with open shirts, hair full of gel, and an ego the size of India itself. The original musicians are inconsequential, or so it seems.
I arrived to Hyderabad, India late Thursday night, Sept. 4th, after two 8-hour flights that were rather uneventful. My new address is that of Jayabheri Towers, a Las Vegas-style housing complex that has employees from Google and other American companies inhabiting it. Four 10-story towers surround a central courtyard with gardens, benches, and small children who spend their day giggling, lost in the land of pretend. It is peaceful watching their antics, and the carefree attitude with which they regard life. The apartment is nicer than most hotel rooms I’ve been in with its floors adorned in white marble, king-sized beds in each of the three bedrooms, private bathrooms, four balconies, a large kitchen, and a well-stocked fridge full of junk food and soda (the American dream, right?) A housekeeper named Rameesh spends his day tidying up the already spotless apartment, changing bedding, managing laundry, and ensuring that the place looks as though no sign of life has graced its halls in years. Being brought up in the hard-working, practical family that I was, all of this leaves me feeling a bit confused. Not doing my own dishes? Having someone help me into my chair? Who knows, he might even carry me if I asked him nicely enough! Drivers are available to take me anywhere I want to go in the city, well-planned ethnic dinners are provided every night, and there exists a book where I can request any food, service, or toiletry item, and magically, it appears. It’s my own version of a genie in the lamp. Despite the adjustment of having everything handed to me on a silver platter, I can see that traveling with a Google employee won’t be all bad.
The city of Hyderabad is best described by a constant state of juxtaposition. 10-story apartment complex’s or office buildings sit directly beside a small community of tents made of corrugated metal scraps and tarps. Women in beautiful, sparkling sari’s walk alongside those balancing bags of rice on their head’s, while even the color of their dark skin contrasts sharply against the vibrant hues of their clothing. Construction is going on all around the city, and yet the roads travel more like a roller coaster from Six Flags then anything resembling asphalt. Cows roam freely down the streets alongside auto-rickshaws and overflowing buses while traffic signs and lights dot the street, but are never heeded. Drumming and singing from the Ganesha Festival floats through the air, cutting the peaceful silence that resonates from the heart of Indian culture. The stoic and hardened faces of local women are transformed into curious expressions at the sight of a white foreigner smiling at them, our Hindi and English language barrier reinforcing the fact that we are from different worlds. I find a sense of constant juxtaposition in myself as well. I walk through crowds of people, eyes toward the ground in a form of cultural submission, while all the while, my heart struggles to fight against the loneliness of being so far from home. I want to see everything, do all that Hyderabad, and India has to offer, and yet, I find myself lost in introspection and quiet observance. The movement of this place, both organic and mechanical, is steady, but hectic. I am constantly surprised, and could never have expected the vibrancy that I have come to know as India.
Since my arrival to India, I have been spending 12 hours a day lost to the task of inner reflection and meditation. My first week alone was a wake-up call to the pressure America places on us as individuals to always be busy, to have a goal, and to be as productive as possible. I am still uncomfortable with the idea of doing whatever I want – sounds easy, but it isn’t. We all wish that we had the time to devote our attention to a single task – to do that and feel good about it later, we have to abandon the very ideals that provides a sense of structure to our daily life. These include time management, responsibility to others, and a sub-conscious level of judging which activities are worth our time. We also stay busy to avoid having to face our personal demons. I am becoming acutely aware of just how complicated improving oneself can be! (and if my computer dies on me, my own mind will swallow me in a gulp of self-reflection…then, I’ll really be in trouble). Much of the next three month’s writing will be reminiscent of the searching we all do on a daily basis, both externally for something to keep us satisfied, and internally for a sense of peace with who we’ve become. I apologize if I get too out of touch with the daily grind of home – it’s easy to do being so far from my previous reality.
