Indo-US Ties: Perspectives from a Mofussil Town

 (middle, The Statesman)

Dr Anjali Mehta






President Obama’s current visit has sparked off considerable discussions on Indo-US ties. Many years ago, I was stationed at a small Indian town, where I witnessed a small scale attempt by the locals to strengthen Indo-US ties, which inadvertently went awry. The local club members had organized an exchange programme with a sister club in America. The invited delegation consisted of two knowledgeable (and coincidentally, beautiful) lady American psychologists. The locals were enthralled by them and wanted to give them a special send-off at the concluding dinner.





The club members specially procured some bottles of expensive red wine as a treat for their guests. This decision had some path-breaking social implications. Consumption of alcohol by women was socially taboo in this town, so none of the local women drank (if we discount the sorority’s secret imbibing in glasses camouflaged with opaque napkins to disguise contents).





At the farewell dinner, the two ladies arrived, looking glamorous in short dresses. A small group of club members walked up to the Americans, welcomed them, and enquired what beverage they would like to drink. The hosts were dismayed when the foreign guests said ‘water’. They then produced the trump card, announcing with a flourish, that they had very tempting fare which would surely make the ladies reconsider their choice. Their mispronunciation of the wine’s name (‘chateaux’ sounding like ‘chat ox’) took away some of the sheen from the offer. This got restored by the wine’s vintage. To the men’s astonishment, however, this new input did not bring about the desired result.





The hosts, overcome by a compelling sense of duty, used every form of verbal persuasion to prevent the ladies from making what they perceived to be a serious error of judgment. The foreigners, however, stood by their original choice. “Why are our ‘no’s’ not being taken at face value?” they wondered, greatly baffled. “Are we missing something here?”. Their life in America had not equipped them to deal with a situation where even multiple refusals did not have any effect whatsoever.





The two sides having reached an impasse, one of the club members resorted to a bit of emotional blackmail, indelicately hinting to the ladies that that he had gone to great trouble to procure the wine.





In light of this disclosure, one of the foreigners (who was suffering from a runny tummy) felt obliged to explain their refusal more fully. “I have a bad stomach” said she.



“Of course not!” suggested the leader of the delegation with a leery twinkle in his eye, “your stomach is very good and shapely.”





The American gasped in shock; no one had flirted so outrageously with her in a formal setting. She flung an angry stare at him.





With complete disregard for the nuances of the situation, another bold member of the delegation declared firmly, “I am getting the wine for you anyway.”





The now furious psychologist threatened the man “Bring it and I will pour it in your pocket!”



The male delegation had no idea what to make of this statement, though they realized from the tone that things were not looking bright. Some members of the delegation privately compared her to the goddess Kali during a phase of wrath. Some others, who had more common sense and a well honed survival instinct, prevailed upon the others to leave the foreigners alone.





For the rest of the evening, the American ladies kept largely to themselves. The ‘vanquished’ delegation decided to drown their sorrows in fine wine (with soda and ice added for good measure!) and for them the evening passed in a pleasant vintage-wine induced haze.





The lovely foreigners left for their country the next day having tasted Indian hospitality, if not the wine!

An unusual friendship….

  (Middle, The Statesman)

Dr Anjali Mehta




Friendships happen in different ways - a chance meeting with a kind stranger, work colleagues discovering they have even more in common than just their targets or boss, parents whose children attend the same school and so many others….

I reflected on some unusual starts to my friendships :



In our student days, we would sometimes be made to stand in the corridor outside the classroom as a punishment for various little misdeeds . While serving one such sentence, I noticed a skinny, timid looking boy also standing outside another section in the corridor nearby. Feeling rather maternal and wondering how on earth he fell foul of authority, I went across to cheer him up . A half hour later, I was in a mild state of shock - it turned out he was a corridor “regular” and even my mischief paled in comparison to the range, audacity and repertoire of misdeeds recounted by him. Awestruck, I vowed never to judge a book by its cover. Our friendship grew over the next few months as we happened to get punished often together and he became a sort of “naughtiness consultant “ to me in school.



In medical college , we had just begun to form a loose knit study group of girls who used to sit and study together in the hostel balcony at night. To try and enhance our beauty along with our brains, we would apply colorful mud and vegetable face packs. One night, an intruder jumped over the compound wall and we heard his footsteps in the dark below. We all crept to the edge and peeped down. We found ourselves staring into a man’s face. On catching sight of our bizarre facial colouration, his own face drained of all colour …he simply fled in shock (we never saw him again !) The incident led to a lively discussion on topics such as beauty masks, intruders (anything other than medicine) and the ice was beautifully broken amongst us all.



The most unusual for me however, has been a friendship forged from the labour room! Eva (name changed) and I were admitted to the same hospital on the same night for onset of labour pains. Her pains quickened before me and her loud groans attracted the attention of my family members. Feeling fairly underutilized as far as I was concerned, they went to her bed to soothe her . My pains, on the other hand, froze my tongue with shock and no sound emerged. Time passed. Eva continued to cheerfully yell the place down while I remained dazedly silent willing to expend my energy only on bare necessities like breathing. My family was largely focused on comforting Eva, believing her to be in greater pain (though any good medical book and life’s experiences will tell you labour is painful without exception and shouting is an inaccurate barometer, being personality based and not pain based). Meanwhile, her family watched me with increasing awe. They thought I was the epitome of dignified, silent suffering and came over to congratulate my parents on harboring such a seemingly stoic being in the family.

I think in our lucid moments , Eva and I felt cross with each other. I felt she had garnered all the sympathy and she felt I had garnered all the admiration. We delivered within minutes of each other.



Over the next few weeks we met at common vaccination dates. We saw a relatively more glamorous version of each other (a human shape rather than balloon shape) and were exposed to facets of personality other than reaction to pain . It was in these visits that the friendship blossomed….



I have learnt that in any of life’s little twists and turns..there just may be a new friend round the corner…