It is called an urban bar, but needs to imbibe some urban traits, it seems. The Urban Pind, a bar at Greater Kailash I, did not know that it was getting into trouble when it refused entry to a photographer from the Northeast, Mary (name changed), since she “did not have a good profile”.
Now, Nagaland Lawyers Guild has served Urban Pind with a legal notice and described the incident as “wilful and deliberate discrimination on the basis of caste, sex, creed and region”. The girl was out to meet two friends, a South Indian who is an editor and a German, who works with the Development Bank. She reached the venue late, while the other two decided to go inside. When Mary reached the place, she was refused entry. The manager told her that she “did not have a good profile”. She was bluntly refused entry even when she informed them that she was an Indian from North East.
Mary is not the only one. Unfamiliar language, different cultural and social terrain and distinctive physical features often put most girls from the Northeast in a tight spot. Even the boys are not spared, as most do not consider them Indians. Each day they face discrimination — the kind varies.
Have you ever faced any such discrimination? Tell Delhi about it.
6 Comments
June 26, 2008 at 2:00 pm
Somewhere I Belong
How can I possibly claim that I ‘belong’ to a place where I ‘never belong’?
It was an usual humid Delhi evening. I was boarding a bus for North Campus. As I got into the bus I heard someone from the back row yelling, “Oye, Chinky #@###@!”. Oh, God, not again! I didn’t look back. I didn’t care. After all, I’m not a “Bahadur.” However, a slight feeling of embarassment and anger began to creep into my psyche. Such insulting words being flung at us – we, the north-eastern tribals – have become quite a common experience. And by now, I’m beginning to get used to it. My take here is that it’s all part of a modern city life.
Racism is a bit too endemic here in New Delhi. Themes like ‘democracy,’ ‘multiculturalism,’ ‘unity-in-diversity,’ ‘secularism’, ‘humanism,’ and ‘tolerance’ don’t seem to find their place in the common man’s world. You maybe holding a MotoRizr phone, a Nokia N70, or sporting the latest in fashion trends, and you maybe far better off in every way, but you just can’t escape these age-old racial stereotypes – as long as you are a ‘chinky.’ The mindset of the mainland Indians are transfixed on the belief that we, north-easterners, are inferior to them in every way which has a deep psychological root from generations past and would continue through generations to come. I often ask myself, why don’t they call us Japanese or Korean instead? Why Nepali? Why Bahadur?
As I rode on the bus, painful memories of all my past experiences began to flood my mind. From the moment I stepped down at the New Delhi railway station in early 2004 – the sneaky auto-driver, the brutal bus conductor, the first day at my college where I was ragged thrice, the cunning landlord, the constant glaring at the market places, et seq. – to this day I have been going through numerous stresses. Why do we have to be targetted and humiliated and abused simply because we ‘look’ so different? All these reminiscences made the blood in me boil. I wanted to scream out loud, “I too am an Indian, stupid!” Well, I’ve got to keep my cool. There’s nothing I could do.
The man who sat right next to me seemed quite a gentleman. He was well dressed and had a friendly, cheerful face. His eyes told me that he genuinely had an interest in me for some reasons unknown to me. The man introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Ravish,” and I responded, “I’m Lunte.” After spelling out and teaching him how to pronounce my name, we began to converse intimately.
At some point he said, “You must be from Manipur?”
“How could you say that?” I asked.
“Oh!” he grinned, “I’m just guessing.”
I still wonder how the hell did he guess!
“I’m not from Manipur,” I told him point-blank. You don’t know how I hate to be called a Manipuri, and that I am from Manipur. When people asked me what my native place was, I usually told them that it’s, rather, Mizoram or Nagaland. To be a Manipuri here is a huge liability, what with landlords refusing anyone who they know hails from the god-forsaken state. And Manipur is being associated with all the ills afflicting the whole north-eastern states.
“Then where are you from?” came the next question.
“I’m from Zoland. The land of the Zo people.” Period.
I’m tired by now and thought that, with this he would stop bothering me. I was wrong. He seemed to be more and more enthusiastic about our new topic of discussion, and even told me that Regionalism and Linguistics had once been his chosen preoccupation.
“Where is that place?” I now felt sorry that I talked to him in the first place.
“Well, it’s a long story. You would never know where I come from. Nobody would know that. I too don’t know where I belong. And I’m still working on it.”
He was completely amazed.
“I had never heard of such a place. Is it somewhere in Nagaland, Mizoram, Meghalaya, or somewhere else?”
To me this guy was still a mystery. He was innocent, polite, friendly, humble and truthful. And yes, quite curious.
For the sake of the intimacy we had just created, I began to narrate who I am and where I belong. “We are a people, independent from time immemorial. We lived peacefully in our own land, far away from the bustling world. We had our own chiefs who looked after our welfare. However, our legacy began to fall apart with the advent of western imperialism, like you had faced a couple of centuries ago. By the middle of the past century, when the Queen of England left India our land got demarcated into separate nations. And as of the present day, we are being cut across by three countries – India, Myanmar and Bangladesh. Her Majesty, the Queen had done a terrible mistake for leaving us to our own fate. And worse, she never knew that.”
Ravish listened attentively. I was too engrossed in my own discourse that I didn’t even give him a chance to speak anymore. Whether he was interested in all that I had said or not, didn’t matter. My own enthusiasm let me go on and on. And, thanks to his curiosity, he didn’t lose his interest either.
I said, “Actually, I’m coming from the state of Manipur. But you can’t call me a Manipuri. Our place is called ‘Outer Manipur’ and we are alienated from the real state. “
He seemed a bit surprised.
“See, the mainland Indians treat people from the north-east as if they are foreigners and that too, with pure humiliation, we are being oppressed and treated as different people in our own tiny state. All channels of growth have been barred for us. Our interests, traditions and cultures are different from those of the plain people.”
I awaited some questions from him, but he was rather looking for an answer on my face. So, I continued, “The condition of our land, and our peole is pathetic. Our future looks bleak. The systems of local government run by corrupt politicans chain our people while the rest of the country is shining. And though small, secluded and marginalized, we fight and kill amongst ourselves due to identity crises. Among us. Between us.”
“Which is why I told you I don’t know where I belong. I do know that I’m a Zomi. But the land I referred to as the place I’m from, called Zoland, is just a romanticized aspiration for our dreamland. A dream that someday we would have our own land and live freely.”
He tried to say something, but rather stopped mid-way.
I paused for a moment, and said, “Rest assured, one thing is for sure. I come from a place somewhere I belong.”
Time seemed to grind into slow motion as I went on unveiling layer by layer the intricacies of identity consciousness in Manipur valley and the segmentary hill society to which I belong. The snarling traffic got a sigh and our bus speeded up for a moment. Now we were nearing my stop. We exchanged some more friendly words and then, bidding goodbye I stood up from my seat and rushed off into the busy traffic.
June 27, 2008 at 8:12 am
When Shilpa Shetty was called brown in a different country… India errupted with outrage. But, when we do the same to our fellow Indians, we dont give a damn about it. The father of our nation Mahtma Gandhi, fought discrimination in Africa… but his own nation will follow the same. East India is the crowning glory of our Country. And isn’t it because of so many diverse cultures and people that our country is so colourful and we enjoy so many festivals…!! Integrate our country… it makes sense to do that and not to disintigrate it. We should stop being a bunch of hippocrites…
June 27, 2008 at 8:18 am
The Greater Kailash incident is not a case in isolation,every now and then these types of things take place in saddi Dilli,which is excessively appreciated on almost all the FM chennels whole day long for its different traits,while I am taken aback whither our capital is having a single quality to speak highly for the same.
For the past two years,I have been living in Delhi at rented accomodations but being a Muslim,I am always discriminated and consiquently I have changed three land lords better to say that they pressed me so hard that I had to change my house again and again.
I got my first job on 8 August 2006 therefore I took a One Room Set at Gautem Nagar South Delhi,where people are considered to be developed enough but to my greatest surprise they were mean minded and casteism was their catch word so just after three months,I had to move to East Delhi thinking that the people here is having some humanity and started living at D-156,Gali No.06, Laxmi Nagar,but the land lady was extremist and considered Muslims as impure breed so I had to leave that house just after a year as she has been torturing me for 6 months for trivial matters.
Then I moved to Gali No. 9 of the same Block and took House No.219’s Room at rent but just after three months land lord’s family started harrassing me and my sister so now I have searched a new accomodation as a silver lining in a faint hope that this new land lord will show some respect to a muslim fellow,will it be so…..?
Regards,
zia moid khan,
Counselor-British Academy,
Laxmi Nagar
9899423200
June 28, 2008 at 9:30 am
This reminds me of a scene from “ChakDe”. When registrations of Indian Women’s Hockey Team was on, two North-East girls arrive. Two boys hurl abuses at them when one of the girls protests hard and scares off the guys. When they register with the gentleman on the desk, he welcomes them as “Hamare Mehmaan”(Our Guests) and once he notices the annoyed look on the face of the girls, he couldn’t stop himself from asking “Kyo? Khush Nahi Ho?” (Aren’t you happy?). One of the girl responds at this ” Apne Hi Desh Mei Mehmaan Banke Kya khush Honge?” (Should we be happy for being treated as guests in our own country?)
We can get inspired to smoke and drink when our favourite stars do that on-screen. But can’t we learn a lesson when they try to send a message? “ChakDe” was not just to wake us up towards our national sport, but also to awaken us as one nation!
June 30, 2008 at 12:37 pm
Are we horrible for Delhiites?
One of my friends, a victim of an awful accident, is undergoing treatment at a private hospital in Delhi. One day her mom asked the friendly, jovial doctor to come to Assam. The doctor shocked and said, “Oh no no….Assam is land of insurgents who target outsiders and kill and throw their skull in the river Brahmaputra. I hear from my friends.” My friend’s rural mom could not detail her situation, yet tried a lot to say how lovely Assam is.
India is always attracted by foreigners for its mysticism, spiritualism and beauty. Foreigners visit India to soak its mystic beauty and study its history from time immemorial.
In his recent visit to India the British author and philanthropist Jeffrey Archer said to journalists—I do not know myself why I waited 64 years to come down here. Michael Douglas, the American actor and producer said India has really fascinated me. But in this capital of the country of secularism, Delhiites could not think and welcome the North-Easterns as their own brethrens. We are discriminated here.
Last year Delhi police published a book for North-Easterns featuring safety tips to stay in this capital city. It raised hue and cry in the north-east. Parents fear to send their sons and daughters for higher study to this capital city.
The Delhiites always see the North-Easterns as outsiders and strangers. We, our food habits, dress habits, public demeanor are matter of gossip at the offices, at the adda of the gallis, at the restauras. I shock when most of Delhi moderns do not know where is Assam, they scream— is it in India!
We remember in our primary class, we had to draw the map of India and memorize the states of the country. It is a matter of shame to not knowing the states of one’s own country.
We (Assamese) have our roots, our history, our sophisticated culture and lifestyle. We are born liberally.
We are dressing, walking, eating freely. Why others bother for it?
If the North-Easterns dress skimpily, where are the flamboyant girls of Delhi?
Now we, North-Easterns say sometimes it is horrendous to stay in Delhi. After all, it is intricacies of a metro life—self-consolation!
July 7, 2008 at 11:26 am
This is in regard to the sad tirade posted by one Mr.Lunte Samte who fancies he is from some fantasy land called Zoland or Poland. It is because of comments like yours that the Wrong impression of Manipur gets strengthened, especially in front of Non- NE people. We are here to support the photographer lady, not to listen to you speak of a homeland like that. No matter how much i try not to take this personally, i cant because you have taken it personally upon yourselves to speak of the evils of Manipur and not about the Main reason why we are up against Racism. You talk 5 Bad words of Manipur, I’ll give you 15 good words for Manipur. Thank you and try not to be a “Racist” yourself.