Destination India

Destination India - Much has been written on how India has become the hottest destination for people seeking quality medical treatment, for companies seeking inexpensive labor…

Right, let’s take this one-by-one.

India - the hottest destination
A typical July day in office, ensconced in a jacket to ward off the Cadence chill that makes you forget the reality of NCR. 8:30 pm, you step out of the office, the sudden jump from 20o C to 43 o C, compounded by 87% humidity instantly blinds you. Night blindness? No, foggy glasses! Wipe them clean in the interest of your personal well-being; you cannot depend upon the quality medical treatment sought after by naïve foreigners for whom spiritual nirvana isn’t enough.

Driving home, you switch the FM to the hottest channel, Mirchi! The AC takes effect just as the song “Dilli ki Sardi” comes on. You narrowly escape the traffic rage to reach the parking space, taken by your good neighbor’s Aveo. Resignedly, you park 1 Km. away, and enjoy the trek back home. Reach home, switch on the AC; no reaction. Hallelujah! A power cut! The comatose AC and unmoving fan mock your efforts to cool yourself by fanning the daily news(paper).

A strange pain in your left arm makes you think of Angina Pectoris and your last will and testament. Blindly, you search for the car keys, stumbling and cursing the Gautier furniture. Drive to the close(d?)st hospital. The reception is uninvitingly dark and eerily silent. Following the snores, you locate the receptionist. An hour’s pleading stirs him to mumble into the phone. A nurse emerges from the black shadows holding a candle, reminding you of Florence Nightingale and Waheeda Rahman in “Kahin deep jale kahin dil”.

The quality medical treatment

After two hours of filling numerous forms, the doctor appears. You undergo a battery of tests, wondering at their necessity but the needle in the doctor’s jabbing hand silences you. Every tested nerve screaming in pain, you meekly ask for the diagnosis. Wearing the most somber expression, while you wonder if you should call your nazdiki rishtedaar, he informs you - “Carpal Tunnel Syndrome,” - the result of the nightly ritual of fanning yourself with the newspaper. You thank him for not being on strike and leave.

The inexpensive labor

You reach home in the wee hours of the morning and fall into the bed, not bothering to switch on the fan; you know you are down on your luck. The painkillers knock you out just until the shrill doorbell jars you. You fall out of the bed to greet the car cleaner for the first time in thirty days with the keys and a smile. Impatiently, he lets you know his real reason. It’s the last day of the month; his salary is due. Yours is still to reach the bank.

Inexpensive or non-working labor? The car cleaner, maid, sweeper, gatekeeper, guard, building fund, kids-entertainment club, swimming pool fees, and ever-increasing taxes! You are paying through the nose and it’s really beginning to hurt!

Welcome to India! Quality treatment (by fake doctors on strike?), Inexpensive (for whom?) labor (who does?), Hottest destination (soaring temperatures, raging roadsters, frequent power cuts forcing candle-lit dinners!)