Traveling extensively not only provides diverse experiences but also allows one to observe societies at various levels—culturally, socially, economically, and religiously. Through my travels, I have gained such rich experiences, which also offer practical insights into life. However, the knowledge I acquire naturally raises many questions about our worldview. I would like to explore some of them here.
Exaggeration
One of the most noticeable aspects of our Indian worldview is exaggeration. It seems to be a pan-Indian phenomenon, deeply ingrained in our everyday conversations and writings, to the extent that we seldom consider the impression it leaves on others. Interestingly, both the person exaggerating and the one listening often understand the reality, yet this habit is rarely challenged because it has become an undisputed part of our communication style.
On November 22, 2005, while traveling by train from Lucknow to Lalkuan, I found myself in a lively discussion with fellow passengers about the recently declared Bihar election results. Among us were a soldier, a teacher from a central school in Ranikhet, and a man who claimed to be a press reporter. When the topic of George Fernandes, the former Defense Minister, came up, the soldier proudly mentioned that he had once shaken hands with Fernandes and with the then Prime Minister Vajpayee. In response, the supposed press reporter claimed to know Fernandes personally and began narrating stories about his simple lifestyle.
Although I didn’t directly challenge them, I had a strong suspicion that both were exaggerating to outdo each other. The soldier, might had the opportunity to shake hands with them when they were visiting them. Though it is a proud movement for an individual there is no need to parade about it as it. The press reporter, in turn, evaded further questions about his credentials when asked by another passenger. This interaction is a prime example of how exaggeration is used in India to “outwit” others during conversations. I’m not sure how it works in other countries, but in India, people often claim some kind of relationship, friendship, or at least a distant acquaintance with a celebrity—if not directly, then through relatives, friends, or neighbors. There’s a Tamil proverb that captures this idea, though it’s difficult to translate exactly: ‘ஆசானுக்கு பீச்சான், மதனிக்கு உடப்புறந்தான்.’ It essentially means something like, ‘I know that celebrity’s second cousin’s brother-in-law’s friend’s father-in-law, who once lived in our neighborhood.’”
Another incident that comes to mind occurred on October 18th, [2005] while I was traveling from Chennai to New Delhi on the Tamil Nadu Express. Three Delhiites were traveling together, and one of them commented that Westerners are not as friendly as Indians during travel, recounting his own experience in London where no one was willing to talk to him. When the others showed little interest in his story, the man seemed disappointed. Despite the lack of interest, he persisted by recounting his trip to the USA, trying to impress others.
In situations where listeners don’t have similar experiences to share, especially foreign trips, they often react by showing indifference to downplay the significance of the speaker’s stories, subtly expressing jealousy or dismissiveness. This common dynamic, where people attempt to show “it’s not a big deal” while inwardly envying the other person, plays out frequently in Indian interactions.
I also recall an incident with a family member of one of my shishyas. For the first time, he had taken a flight to Mumbai, and his mother, beaming with pride, made sure everyone at a family function knew about it. When I inquired about the reason for his trip, she proudly announced, “He’s on a plane right now, going for business!” Despite her loud proclamation, none of her relatives responded, likely out of envy, further reinforcing the dynamic of downplaying others’ achievements.
In the past, air travel was a distant dream for many middle-class individuals in India, much like owning a mobile phone when they first entered the market. I recall during my travels at that time, seeing a few people with those early mobile phones—often holding them up and attempting to call someone from the train, only to find ‘there is no signal.’ They would then move from one end of the compartment to the other, or quickly disembark at stations to make a call, all while being watched by many.
So, when someone from an ordinary household had the opportunity to fly, it was often announced to others, showcasing an experience that was both expensive and unattainable for most. Nowadays, air travel has become more accessible, with several lower-middle-class individuals flying regularly, and many owning more than one smartphone.”
When I observe such incidents, I am prompted to ask: Why do we feel the need to parade certain things before others? Seeking recognition and appreciation for certain achievements, especially those beyond the reach of many, is a basic human desire. Yet, the way we “push” these accomplishments on others seems more about asserting superiority rather than simply celebrating success. Is it part of human nature to subtly declare, “I am holier than thou”?
I remember a quote that helps keep me grounded: “Show when you are tempted to hide, and hide when you are tempted to show.” It reminds me of an encounter with an acquaintance in Lucknow years ago. Without any prompting, the first thing he said was, “I’ve just returned from Europe.” In the early days of my sojourn among Christians, I noticed that preachers who traveled abroad often felt the need to mention their trips during sermons, as if to elevate their status subtly. This, too, seems to reflect an aspect of our Indian worldview—”feeling above equal.”
Of course, when this topic came up again, someone mentioned to me that in today’s competitive world, unless we promote ourselves, we won’t get noticed. I understand the importance of recognition and appreciation from others as a way to encourage us. However, when self-promotion is driven by a spirit of competition—as is often the case—it can lead to disappointment and depression, especially when we fail to make an impact.
True achievements, however, should speak for themselves, much like how a flower attracts insects through its natural fragrance. It doesn’t need to spray an artificial scent to stand out among other flowers. Reflect on your own life: where are those people who were once the talk of the town? Time is a great equalizer, and as it consumes the stories of many, self-promotion fades quickly into obscurity.
Instead of striving for recognition through artificial means, be authentic. Live your life naturally and spontaneously rather than trying to force something that isn’t real.
Mathigiri, December 8, 2005, Revised on 24-9-2024
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