Shining India and the faltering NRI

Is it true”, my 16-year-old son asked incredulously, “that there was a time you could just take $500 for a foreign trip?” “True enough”, I replied with a smile, adding “and that too every two years.”

The death of Chandrashekhar reminded me of the bad old days when the country’s forex reserves could just about pay for a fortnight’s imports, and when we held on to every dollar bill like a family heirloom.

Yes, those were the days when every college student eyed the faded Levis jeans worn by the diplomat’s son with envy.

Those were the days of the P-form, the days when every Indian visitor overseas managed on backpacker budgets — I remember forgoing the film on a flight because hiring headphones cost a princely three dollars!

Those were also the days when the NRI was king (or queen). Every family boasted an uncle, cousin or even a distant relative who had fled India and made what we considered a fortune, in the US, Canada, Britain or the Gulf. They boasted the latest model of cars while we cursed the rickety old

Ambassador or Fiat that father never thought of changing. They showed us pictures of suburban homes, equipped with labour-saving gadgetry, and their children boasted an envious record collection.

Every winter the NRIs would descend on India carting gifts for poor relatives. There were chocolates for the children, a perfume for mother and the bottle of Scotch for father.

The distribution of largesse conferred on the NRI an exceptional clout within the family. Every advice of theirs would be listened to attentively and their likes or dislikes pandered to. In the family hierarchy, the NRI wing would always be tops.

They looked down on us as the unfortunate souls who got left behind in the land of filth and corruption.

Their children pitied us and complained incessantly about mosquitoes and stomach upsets. “You have to be careful what you eat here,” was the constant advice of NRI mothers to their little children.

It now seems a very long time ago. These days, as a friend found out during a visit to England, you are more likely to confront young NRIs inquiring about ‘opportunities’ in the new boom towns.

These days, you are unlikely to want to avail the hospitality of grudging NRIs when abroad. If you can’t afford a decent hotel, it is better not to travel. The craze for ‘phoren’ in ‘foreign’ has waned. You are more likely to get all the foreign goodies at your local mall — and that too at a price marginally lower than Oxford Street.

More than anything else, the resurgence of India has led to the NRI loss of equity. They may still want to complain that India is a ‘punishment posting’ which merits a generous hardship allowance, but there are few takers for such unwarranted fuss.

So, instead you have the bizarre situation of returning NRIs helping each other. I recently came across a company where one newly-appointed CEO who returned home after 30 years ended up appointing other NRIs as managers.

Of course, they weren’t returning expatriates from Fortune 500 companies. They happened to be NRIs from obscure one-horse, mid-West towns with previous employment as deputy manager of the local Wal-Mart.

The result was predictable: the new venture just failed to take off. The NRIs formed a clique and spent more time discovering and unlearning India than intervening successfully in a wildly competitive market.

They complained about India’s poor work ethic, the harsh living conditions, the non-availability of decent olive oil, and the awkwardness of coping with non-deferential servants. It was a colossal disaster.

Throughout India, the tales of faltering NRIs are being gleefully repeated by those whose parents never made that leap into the world of Green Cards. India is having a ball and having the last laugh. After decades of indignity, who can blame them?

Email: swapan55@gmail.com