Diary entry of an intolerant Hindu Indian

Dear Diary

Aamir Khan's candidness on National TV has opened up a can of worms more so for his wife than for him but both are in equally deep soup! The unthinking woman made a what-could-be-any-woman's-idle-complaint/concern after reading the morning paper or after reaching home after having solved the 3 hour traffic maze... or having managed to reach some pavilion that you didn't even want to turn up in at the Trade Fair because the crowd won't let you go anywhere but the direction in which you were pushed or after after having been in a jam when your car is strategically held up on an open sewage drain  for 20 minutes or ESPECIALLY after watching Arunab Basu and his bark-matching panelists!

Kiran Rao should have known better! When I say something in the privacy of my home or bedroom that I don't want my husband using as a reference point and landing me in a looking -stupified-but-ready-to-strangle-him situation, I spend copious minutes teaching him to remember not to use it ever in the presence of a third party. I consider it a criminal breach of trust if he does. Wonder if Aamir's meals are cooked by Kiran because I would certainly be miles away from the kitchen in a similar scenario!

Anyway, the intolerance debate forced me to reflect upon myself and I have gained some valuable insights into the kind of person that I am. It's not easy coming out of the closet but I have to deal with my demons- the sooner the better!

I... Ahem... am an INtolerant... Hindu...Indian! 

Having admitted that, I am literally reading the above sentence again and again and it gives me a sense of power accompanied with huge relief to have finally got it out of me. All these years I'd been posing to be as tolerant as possible but the current scenario has given me courage to accept myself as I actually am.  As I had it on my FB cover once-Knowing others is wisdom and knowing yourself is enlightenment!

The fact of the matter is that I was BORN an Indian and a Hindu! And I had no role in that.It was a pure quirk of fate. I could have been born in Pakistan or Russia or the US or Denmark or Rome or Cuba! 

Having grown up watching Little House On The Prairie , I dreamt of life in the prairie-land  and do harbour the dream till this day and similarly wondered what life would be like being Aboriginal or a Chinese! I hope I'm not unpatriotic in WONDERING about all this. 

I am a Hindu. Whether practising or non-practising depends upon the frame of mind or the turbulence my life is in. I have however loved reading Hindu mythology since I was little. My favorite gods being Krishna, Shiva and Ganpati and favorite goddesses being Durga and Laxmi( obviously). I turn quickly to requesting, cajoling, coaxing all of them when in trouble like Aamir and Kiran or Shahrukh, RaGa. Sometimes my prayers are heard and at others God just has no time for my please-please...want-this...do-this. 

I don't believe in pilgrimages or rituals much to my parents' discomfort and silent disapproval although I have blindly followed some just because it was expected if me. I am definitely a believer of a Supreme Being... reincarnation... karma. I lead my life keeping in mind that I am being watched (I seriously am watched when I choose not to be so good and all the lakhs of gods and goddesses are hibernating together somehow when I'm actually Ms Goody Two Shoes)! That actually shakes up my faith in their existence because it seems very selective and very minuscule term.

My religion is questioned when I approve of the food (read meat) choices that people make. I am a vegetarian who doesn't mind meat served on the same table as long as I'm not expected to kill or cook it. 

I oppose people serving food to cattle in front of my house. The cow lies in wait everyday and conveniently leaves the most offensive smelling bovine cake as a gesture of gratitude which is in danger of being driven over and brought in the driveway of our house which culminates in the waste of a precious resource-water, used to wash the faintest traces away!

 The jagarans, kirtans have never interested me. People dressed up in wedding finery and screaming their lungs out to the latest Bollywood chartbusters! I have tried to avoid going to any such gathering on some pretext or the other and have suffered the wrath of many noble souls.

I think dear Diary, you've got a fair idea by now that I am very intolerant! I always thought it was innate but I've discovered that I am not to blame at all. It is my environment, other people- friends, family, neighbours, strangers on the road- the world in general that gave birth to Intolerant Me! I've tried to keep this aspect in the closet but the recent debates on various social networks kind of catalysed this confession out of me. 

I don't remember having been born intolerant or being subjected to an environment that brought it on me. It's been a gradual process which has only exacerbated in the last decade or so. Today I want to come face to face with my demons and subsequently be served with retribution for my blabbermouth honesty.

My intolerance unnerves mostly the tolerant people around me. I have tried hard to mend my ways but Dil hai ki maanta nahin!

The following bring out the worst in me-

* People eating noisily has been an irritant ever since I can remember anything about myself. I cannot tolerate people eating with the jaw doing an open-close, wide-narrow dance. The sounds made eating, slurping drill a hole in my brain. I've reduced my trips to cinema halls because that is where I encounter the worst sounds made by eating popcorn, nachos, bhel, hot-dog( if it can be called that). It distracts me from the movie because my mind is busy registering the chomp chomp...slurp...kacher kacher...burp. People seem to want to drink up the ice through the straw!

The sound of cutlery on china is like hammers on my head. I'm like this 😬😡 in my head but acting 😊😒😇 for the chompers' benefit. My family on the other hand is tolerant to put up with my intolerance regarding this towards most of them.

* I am highly intolerant of the toilets used in a manner that when the lady of the house after having scrubbed them clean has to GO, there are droplets on the rim or ugly splatters that force her to pick up the toilet brush and disinfectants instead of relieving herself! The intolerance has been termed as OCD by my loved ones but I'm deaf to the tags given by who-do-not-know-any-better. This intolerance is the reason for my going off water/any other life giving beverage while I'm travelling because train loos are good to make me pass out in that trashbin size cubicle. When in transit either the restrooms are just not in the vicinity when I have to go or they are the same ugly story. I was of the opinion that American fast food chains might have better hygiene levels but I forgot that my non OCD sisterhood also use them. 

There are times at a restaurant that you really have to go and there's this person who's taking oh-so-long and you can do nothing but cross your legs, shift, jump, do kegels and try to look poised and in control of your bladder and when the person finally emerges after what seems like an hour and you rush in with conjoined legs hoping that the snug jeans will slip down in time, the zipper won't get stuck or the string won't be knotted-too-tight-to-unknot-in-time ; that you're greeted with the foulest ozone depleting odour. Many a times I've walked back because the intolerant me abhors anything that does not smell like vanilla, jasmine,rose or musk. It's always been difficult to enjoy the evening after that because your insides are screaming bloody murder!

* My tolerance goes kaput while driving. It's a strategic battle ground because your eyes don't have to be just on the road. You have to look sideways, behind you and at some points above you as well as look a vehicle or two ahead. By doing so one can avoid certain potholes. It's a pain to see two-wheelers trying to find inches to move past. Having an intolerance for scratched, dented cars, I keep wincing and muttering the most uncouth words and phrases. And then to hear the unnecessary ear shattering honks. Many a times I've rolled down the glass to signal the driver behind me to develop wings and fly! Drivers blocking your free left turn or waiting in the middle lane but going right or all the two wheelers squeezing past, giving you a minor heart attack each time you hear a thud or scratch, and there is a mini two-wheeler parade all over the Stop line and ahead of it. 

My intolerance spreads to the three-wheelers that are overloaded and driving in the fast lane. Nothing can move these modern day oxen. 

Some drivers behind your car display their own levels of intolerance if you slow down at the yellow signal and halt at red. They start honking 10 seconds before the green signal and keep trying their best to make you move before you actually get the go-ahead. 

People springing onto the middle of the road from nowhere is a driver's nightmare. Or those who give you the frantic Stop sign with their hands and keep on crossing a busy road or those who deliberately look you in the eye and cross at a snail's pace. They seem to dare you to knock them over!

* My intolerance for loudspeakers at any event in residential areas. Kirtans, Janamashtami, Ram Lila, pre wedding bashes etc etc. Mom-in-law resents my intolerance and defends the citizen's right to sing praises of the Lord so loudly that it actually reaches His divine ears. The DJs at weddings play the songs so loud as though they're catering to a football field.

* My intolerance for "bhandara"organisers  who without any valid permission dig holes in roads and put up tents and serve food to every one passing by. A very noble cause but it can be done at a place allotted for such activities. The stench of frying stuff the whole day long is enough to clog arteries. People throw their unfinished food right in front of people's gates and it stays like that on the roads and elsewhere.

I'm intolerant of people feeding cows, cow owners letting loose these cows that conveniently sit in the middle of the road and you're left snaking past them in a car hoping they don't decide to get up at once. 

* My intolerance rears its head again at weddings where people cluster close to the food stalls. They refuse to budge from there. There are prying eyes on your plate. 

* My tolerance goes for a toss listening to people chat on their cell phones. They shout, bark, repeat till you can do nothing but develop interest in their life.

* I am intolerant towards people taking interest in others' private affairs - who is earning what, who got how much dowry, who is having an affair, who spent what etc.

The same goes for people who  lie, manipulate, berate employees, smoke in my breathing space, cough on people, don't use deodorant, ill treat servants, do not mind their children at home or in restaurants, have preconceived notions, not open to change, are sticks in the mud, jump to conclusions, are too judgmental and critical...

The list goes on and on. 

How can an intolerant person like me not be ostracised by a society which considers all this normal?  How do I treat my intolerance for the aforementioned dear Diary?