Saturday, August 26, 2006

Indians,Insomnia,Jack Kerouac

Today I woke up as usual, 3:30am. Couldn't get back to sleep, so I think up what my next blog will be about. My thoughts turned to Indians and why I don't like them. The curry kind. If Doctor Freud was around, he would put me on his couch, and get me to explore my sub-conscious, take me back to my childhood and recall my earliest memories of interactions with Indians. BTW, if you're wondering what Jack Kerouac has to do with all this, well, his stream of consciousness style of writing is the inspiration for my style of writing this blog. The teacher, who taught Geography, took a dislike to me because I was too smart, my mouth that is. One day in class, I managed to humiliate him in the most polite and wicked way possible. It's a skill I've always had. Of course, being an Indian, he kept his hurt to himself, no facial reaction, no visible response, I forgot about the incident. At the end of the year, he took his revenge, now I realize, like only an Indian can, by failing me in the subject he taught. It was unjustified, it was revenge by him the only way he could hurt me. In fact, I didn't give a shit, who really cares about geography? That was lesson number 1. Dr Freud, would then ask me if I felt any animosity towards that teacher? No. Did I feel any bitteness towards him? No. Did I associate my failing to the fact that the teacher was an Indian? No. Siggy would then stroke his beard, utter mmmm velly interesting, please, go on... It was many years later that I was working with another Indian. A charming man, full of smiles, very agreeable, we would often sit and chat over a coffee, and talk about life and work. I got on well with him. One day, I got a report from another friend, who happened to attend a conference. At this conference, this Indian whom I worked with and considered a friend, was heard mentioning my name in the most derogatory way possible, while at the same time big noting himself. This was not much of a surprise as you might think because having worked with the guy, conversations were frequently about how bad other people were, and how wonderful he was. It was no rocket science to figure out that he would have a similar opinion of me but hide it behind a facade of friendliness. Even at this stage, I was not about to develop a racial dislike for Indians as such. This would be petty and irrational in the extreme. Of course the seed was planted in my mind, and I began to evaluate the many Indians I had worked with not to forget the many Indians deal with as customers of my business at work, the Indians I interact with in public. There emerged a number of social patterns that defined the class of Indian, as I experienced them. These being, Indians tend to be very slow at whatever they do. In comparison to any other work colleague, Indians are always the slowest at performing the same task. Indians tend to smell of curry. I like curry, but the strong body odor emnating from an individual is very distasteful. In fact, having met a few shapely and attractive Indian women, who would benefit from being mounted by myself, I did abstain because of the strong whiff of curry. I do have standards and they aren't very high but strong body odours do not turn me on. Of course, in the process of engaging the mind in thoughts about Indians, certain other facts became not only apparent but seemed to attach themselves to a mental file labelled "Indians". I live in a neighborhood that is quickly becoming populated with Indians. The poor white trash are moving out as fast as they can and the Indians are moving in. This is disturbing in itself because the status quo is being upset. A short walk from my house, there is an Indian curry shop, for fuck sake. I don't know what specific attraction my suburb has but it is definitely appealing to Indians. For the last ten years, I have been dealing with Indians in increasing numbers at work. I work in suburbs where the population has increased to 80% Indians. That's my rought estimate. I can be accused of being paranoid, but the facts don't change. There was a story recently about a doctor in a hospital in the state of Queensland. Dr Patel. He was a surgeon who was nicknamed "Dr Death" by the nurses and staff. He had an appalling record of failures in surgery. Finally, a nurse couldn't take anymore and reported him to the authorities. Justice was denied when he absconded to the U.S. This reminds me of the time I went to a doctor, he was an Indian, he gave me some antibiotics for an infection and I had a side effect, I fainted and hit my face on the door and broke my front teeth. Dr Freud, this also reminds me of another Indian doctor I went to see, I was having a nervous breakdown, I needed medication seriously, now, he told me to meditate. Just in case you were beginning to suspect I might be a closet racist, I'm not, my family doctor for the last five years is a woman, an arab. So there. Indians speak a different dialect of English, its English but not as we know it. True. Indians hate manual labour. Its a cultural thing, they look down on any type of physical work as degrading. The whole taxi industry has become overrun with Indians. Not to mention train drivers, bus drivers. In fact the worst aspect is the Telemarketing phenomenon where Indians from India call you at home and try to sell you shit. This occurs at a frequency of about 5 calls per day. I know they're Indians from India because of delay in response times on the phone and because they talk in a funny accent which nobody seems to understand. In fact, now that I think of it, all call centres are staffed by Indians, if I manage to speak to a human being after hearing a recorded message telling me da da da press 1 da da da press 2 da da da press 3 etc and finally the curry flavored voice on the other end is unmistakeably and Indian. The entire workforce in this country in every government department has become Indian. I kid you not. We are importing doctors because white doctors are either leaving the country for better paid positions overseas or the government doesn't train enough of them. The foreign doctors that staff our hospitals are Indian.


Anapurithatian Srivanaljay Singh


Crashtest Comic said...

Visons of Cody is Kerouac's best! I like the new style.

Remember, Kerouac said: "never get drunk outside yr own home."

Lexcen said...

I'll have to check that book out. Thanks

Anonymous said...

"Dr Freud, this also reminds me of another Indian doctor I went to see, I was having a nervous breakdown, I needed medication seriously, now, he told me to meditate."

Priceless, love the style.

Intolerant said...

Indian doctors have been caught countless times cheating on their board certification exams...I knew a proctor. They claimed language difficulties in understanding the "rules".