The ugliness of the Indian male

I had first read on Hari's blog, a forthright confirmation about atypical habits which are typical to genre of Indian males. It was a nudge to my deeper observations which I had conveniently never made a fuss about, never mind if they had made me uncomfortable. And then, about a week back, on South Asian literature mailing list (which goes by SASIALIT) there was a furor over an article by same Mukul Kesavan, The Ugly Indian Man - Of hygiene, hair and horrible habits. Needless to say, there were some angry email exchange by Indian men and the rebel was quite evident. Rightfully and quite understandably so. Many of them were offended and there were voices of rebel to discontinue the discussion. One gentleman also said,

"As an Indian male I am deeply offended at this kind of hate-mongering.
Indianmaleophobia is what it is. Moderators, over here, if you please!"

Recently, I was on a flight to Singapore, 18-long hours flight which I had dreaded from the beginning. But Singapore airlines had me impressed right from the beginning with their hospitality, provision of comfort and attention to little details. I think, the food was a little excessive for me and I could barely eat one-fourth of what they provided but after a couple of times, I realized it would just be safer for me to decline rest of the meals and snacks, until I felt hungry again. However, after 12 hours of flight there was a stop for fueling at Incheon, a place I had never heard of before. But this 40 minutes pit-stop led to shuffling of passengers. After I returned, I had an Indian male neighbor for my remaining 6 hours leg. What the heck did I know, what a replacement this would turn out to be.

This person was probably in his late 30s or early 40s, slightly pudgy with salt and pepper hair. His casualness was noticeable. He had flung his shoes aside as soon as he had plonked in to seat, tore open the blanket plastic cover with a sense of immediacy and covered himself as he reclined casually stretching his legs under his front seat. He grabbed the remote device immediately and fiddled with it until he settled down for the movie of his choice. Quite understandable that utmost comfort can be critical on journeys like these.

Within few minutes into the movie, with remote in his one hand, this man was industriously digging into his nose, alternating between left and right nostrils. My red flag antenna was on high alert from then on. After all, I had written confirmations and self observations to back my aghast internal (so far) reaction. I knew that this hard work of index finger is a danger in my vicinity.

"When you think of where they put those nails, this is not surprising. I’ve seen respectable men conducting conversations with their index fingers two digits deep in their nostrils, digging with industrial enthusiasm. If you ever see a desi man delicately rubbing the tip of his index over the pad of his thumb, beware. Don’t do near him: he’s rolling the bogies he’s mined into little balls."

This called for my pretentious patient demeanor to react and soon. So I did! I gave him some serious angry looks but I should have known that the man is too comfortable and oblivious to his surroundings. I was suddenly very conscious of my lack of access to freedom in that belted seat. I was helpless and trepid of my confinement. I immediately mumbled, "this is disgusting"! I was gleeful that he heard. But he did not stop right away, his fingers would reach out to nose and then he would brush it off gently with his thumb and index finger and end it with a sniff. I did not give up and obviously could not sleep for rest of my journey. I calculated in my head that uncomfortable alert wakefulness is a safer proposition than oblivious sleep which can lead to infliction of dreadful habits of Indian male neighbor.

Hello from Singapore!