A privileged life

Edit: I guess this article didn't come out the way I wanted it to... it is too preachy and dull... I'm going to leave it in the archives of this blog.

"Welcome to the lab," an array of friendly faces of different nationalities greeted me and shook my hand. A corner of my mind told me that I would spending most of my time over the next few years with these people. They would be my new best friends, and my family away from family.

Birthdays. Movies. Talk. Work. Lunch. Life. The tide of time swept us down myriad paths, but threads of our lives were intertwined irrevocably. The Indians in the lab, including me, were bonded even more closely by virtue of culture, language and history. And yet, we lived in the present, and for the present; there were gaps in our knowledge and understanding of each other. I glimpsed it when I joined some of them in the company of other people I didn't know. Like when Krish's friends came along for a movie one day.

Krish, short for a name with nearly as many syllables as there are states in India, known to our American friends as Kris. Krish, the friendly guy I knew who traded banter with more skill than a Dow Jones broker. Krish, who worked as hard as any of us, made as many mistakes as any of us, who was as normal as any of us.

Krish, who for some inexplicable reason, was addressed with a respectful Anna (Brother) by his friends.

If it happens once, I have to remember. If it happens twice, I have to understand. This time, Krish was explaining to some of us how the test for the driving licence would be conducted, and what were the common mistakes one could make. The aura of respectful deferment that I'd sensed earlier was far more marked this time. I just had to know what was going on. When I had a free moment with Krish and another friend from the lab, I asked, "Are you a mafia don? Why do they call you Anna all the time?"

He just smiled enigmatically. An even more enigmatic reply came from our friend there, who knew Krish better than I did, "When you do things for people that they cannot do for themselves, they respect you."

Broad conclusions can be drawn from broad data. Krish's friends spoke a far purer version of Telugu than I did, and from some of things they'd said, I knew they hailed from small towns or perhaps even villages. These were people who probably had none of the privileges I had, none of the knowledge, none of the connections, none of the training, and little of the money. They'd worked themselves to this reputed university through sheer tenacity and the dream of making their parents proud, giving them a comfortable life in their later years, and giving their children more opportunities than they'd had themselves. Krish's family, on the other hand, had moved to Hyderabad from a small town a long time ago, and made their fortune there. Krish had then trained for the IITs and made it, finally coming to this university. In other words, Krish had knowledge of both worlds. He must have been helping these people for a long time, telling them what to do and how to do it, from applying to an American university, to understanding the American way of life.

I found myself irrationally filled with shame. I'd led a far more privileged life than Krish. Is it not the responsibility of the privileged to guide and help those who are not so fortunate? I'd had the best teachers, the best facilities, the best guides; I could have done a lot more in my life for others, without losing anything myself. And I dared treat Krish like an equal.

I examined my own life in the light of what I now understood about respect. The surprising wedding invitation from a person I hadn't spoken to in ten years. My memories told me I'd helped him with his Math when we were in school. The equally surprising manner in which another old classmate tracked me down to reestablish our friendship. This was a kid who'd been the butt of all jokes and vicious teasing, but who I'd always treated fairly and as an equal. People whose lives I'd touched - apparently - more than their lives had touched mine. People whose respect I'd earned, without meaning to.

Every person I'd helped with their homework or their studies, every person I'd set an example to with my actions, every person for whom I did something they couldn't do for themselves... they respected me. I may not quite be the Godfather figure that Krish was, but I guess I haven't wasted my privileged life....