The great Indian bulge

As I was waiting to catch a flight at the KGIA, Bangalore, the late night blues let my sleepy mind wild and I ended up thinking about my bulging tummy. I then looked around and felt consoled by the countless other Indian men who shared by unwelcome physiognomic feature.

As I am happily treading towards 30, this current state is not what I had foreseen for myself ten years ago. Perhaps the scales have been reinvented at the national level, or so I am made to believe.

When I was a teenager, a bulge was usually associated with men in the late 30s and 40s and beyond. But suddenly in the span of a decade, it has become normal to have a bulge in your 30s.

Traditionally, in the Indian context, the bulge has connotations with prosperity and satisfaction. The satisfaction attained either by the worldly achievement – read a good job, good wife, happy children, happy parents and respectful position in the society.

At this perspective, does it mean, that the advanced onset of the bulge means we are satisfied too early now?  

With a hike in the disposable income following the market liberalization since the 90s, and the lack of burdensome responsibilities such as educating and marrying off siblings (seen in a majority of middle class households from the 80s and 90s), there certainly has crept some comfort zone in the millennial teenagers.

The cushy jobs, where the starting packages usually are outdoing the father generation’s retirement salaries, is a new phenomena driven by the position of India as a low cost opportunity for foreign companies. We have been made to believe this as a sign of development, albeit some believe this to be modern slavery, and we are happy to be a part of it while it lasts.

We are glued to this sedentary lifestyle and are proud to have it.

With a massive population adopting this lifestyle, the drug companies, specifically the ones producing medicines for the lifestyle diseases, are preparing themselves to meet this demand. The good times for these companies shall begin when this generation tcrosses the near fortyish.

On the ground this generation had stopped being active when they entered their teens. The pressure of education had killed the joy of sport and sport turned out to be the major outcast in most middle class Indian homes.  The only running happened around between tuitions and parents were happy to stuff their children with nutrition, manuring their investments as they grew.

“There can only be one Rooney or a Federer, and we Indians don’t have it in us”, thundered an Indian father who aspired for his son to succeed in life and have a bulge.

And most Indian sons have succeeded with time. Hence, the great Indian bulge.

What More?

Much to my dismay, I continue to be bothered by unsatisfied people around me. They seam to loathe life even though it may seem for others that everything is going fine for them. They can’t be stopped when they complain about their lives, their fate, their bank balances, their bosses, their over achieving cousins, the employers, and this list is endless. This is a new phenomenon that I believe that people typically acquire in their twenties. I do not remember meeting any cribber during my early childhood, middle school and college. This bunch of bugs has suddenly cropped out in the last few years since I started working in the corporate sector.

The typical talking point of this unhappy lot is the high real estate prices, unco-operative bosses (read ‘bosses who don’t fall for honey talk’), NRI cousins, IIT/IIM cousins/friends, rich classy friends met at the hobby class/foreign language class, frequent globe trotting friends and so on.

Take the example of a guy who is making a cool six figure sum, drives a posh four wheeler, resides in an elite location in a fancy apartment and is married to a woman he loves…and he is only 28. It seems like everything is going well for him. Alas, all is not rosy as he says. He thinks he deserves a higher position in the organisation, drive a better four wheeler, a bigger house and his matter of choice of his lady remains ambiguous. What prompts him for such greed/desire to succeed/ resounding unhappiness/constant bickering remains a mystery.

Far from this maddening environment, I leave office perplexed my state of being. As I walk towards the bus stop where I hop on to my way home, I cross a subzi mandi (vegetable market). It caters to the middle and low class folk of the surrounding locality and does not present a very appealing ambience to the visual or olfactory senses. However it reminds me of my childhood in Madurai town which was then laced with open drainages and rampant vegetable/fruit shops. Another common point in the two scenes is the loose cow/bullock/ox that sways around in the road unaware of any chaos. All these things have a peculiar smell and sound that I still remember and am reminded of when I cross that vicinity.

Somewhere deep within, it (the walk though the stinky market) strikes a bell that reminds me of my past, and the paths that I have tread. It helps me to be grounded and stay close to reality. It obviates vanity and lets me enjoy the strides that I have made due to God’s abundant grace on me.