Gita Radhakrishna was born, educated and had a fabulous career in United States. Her father was one of the earliest immigrants in 1940s and he came as a doctor and the family has been based ever since.
Gita was an American all but in name. Like most first generation immigrants, her father was particular that she imbibe Indian values and so she was sent for Carnatic music lessons and going to temples for lectures on the epics mandatory. She grew up on this medley of cultural influence; her accent and dressing American while she was cautioned against dating and sanctity of marriage. BTW, we are talking of the innocent 1970s.
Apart from the “indianization” attempts the parents made her spend a month each year during summers in Coimbatore at her grandparent’s home so that she can learn something of the land and be similar to her cousins. It was this kind of hip hopping the elders did as to preserve the values of the land and not forget the family customs.
As expected the parents found a groom from within a community and though Ramesh was from Madras, he was employed in the United States. The marriage proved to be a happy one and within a decade she had twins and now herself, concerned to see her sons not forget the culture.
She was but 40 when she came to Madras to settle down as her husband wanted to be back in India to tend to his sick parents.
Driving was one thing she hadn’t bargained for. In the US, there were separate tracks for different speeds and here they drove on the wrong side of the road. Okay, you get used to that but not the chaos. Madras has over 3 million vehicles on the road and over 75% of them two wheelers.
It makes one believe in the existence of God with an assortment of vehicles: speeding transport buses and so unruly as to set the rules for the dwarfed; the cars are sandwiched between two wheelers, fish carts and even the odd cow on the streets. And what to talk of autos that weaved in and out from nowhere in sight.
The traffic is so heavy that car drivers don’t have the luxury of opening both rear view mirrors and on the road, Indians are the world’s greatest miser. Each space on the road is closed as soon as possible otherwise the fellow at the back would honk your mind to insanity.
Ramesh was an expert on these roads for he grew up on these roads while Gita would have none of it. But the husband was insistent that learn to drive her for who can account for emergencies.
She started driving on the beachside first trying to get used to non automatic cars. Once done, she went to a driving school – a travesty for one who has been driving cars from her teens in US at speeds of over 140 kmph- and she got her license. Still she couldn’t or had no mind to manage peak time traffic. For a very ordered mind driving on Indian roads can be like attempting to understand Einstein equations.
Her mother-in-law had a heart attack when Ramesh was on a business tour. Gita was completely unnerved and took her to Apollo on her own. The MIL is recovering now and Gita is still not able to fanthom as to how she managed to maneuver her car at 9 AM on a manic Monday on Mt. Road.
She cannot bring herself to drive here but at least she is confident that come emergency and she can even drive in such chaotic conditions.
She says,” We all have our fears but life teaches and gives us an opportunity to overcome them. My blindspot was driving but then I can sometimes stretch my limits too”. (645 words)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment