30.5.15

We, the invisible middle class-Pritish Nandy

  TOI BLOGS

We, the invisible middle class

Pritish Nandy

 

 

I was born in a middle class family. I will, in all probability, die in one. But the interesting thing is that, in between these decades, the Indian middle class itself has undergone a fascinating transformation. It is this change that so powerfully captures the way this nation has grown, altering our lives and histories, our language and our libraries.

 

 

As children, we were never really poor. Yes, my parents had no money. Nor did they have a home they could call their own. But that was not exactly unusual in those days. People rarely owned things. We were lucky. We had a radio. And some books collected over the years. My parents were teachers. Their idea of wealth was to see their children educated, doing decent jobs. I never completed my education but yes, all of us brothers did what we wanted to do. And if my parents were around today, they would have been happy to see the way we did it. We have homes now. We own cars, phones, TVs and, yes, most important, large collections of books and music. By their yardstick, we would be rich. But the goalposts have changed since. By today’s standards, we get by.

 

 

Being wealthy is a state of mind. I think I am rich because I can afford to buy the books I want to read, watch the movies I want to see, listen to the music I want to hear. I can travel when I want to, where I want to. I can see the world my parents never got to see. For they rarely travelled. I, on the other hand, go wherever the world invites me. And I see, feel, observe, experience many more things than my parents did because life has been more generous to me. It has given me more opportunities. I seize them with both hands and try to make the best out of them. Yes, I often fail. But sometimes I succeed and these occasional successes help me to escape the mundane everyday life of the average middle class Indian. That’s what enriches me. That’s the wealth I will leave behind for my children as my parents left me the wealth of their memories, the narratives about the India they grew up in. And, Oh yes, the books.

 

 

The middle class love stories. They love stories about hope and change. They love stories that empower them to live their lives better and enrich the society they live in. I may be living in Narendra Modi’s India, not very far from where Antilla towers, but I am proud to say I understand the darbari kannada better than I understand a debt mutual fund. Baba Amte will always remain a bigger hero for me than Sachin Tendulkar even though I love cricket. And even though I write this column on a laptop, I prefer writing personal letters by hand, using what is still quaintly described as a fountain pen. I still notice poor, homeless people on the street. I still feed stray animals and try to heal them when they are hurt. There are no beggars, no street dogs in my neighbourhood with whom I do not have an ongoing conversation just as I have with those who follow me on twitter. Wealth doesn’t impress me. But I envy those can find the time to do those wonderful things most middle class people do which no one talks about any more because good things are no longer part of popular discourse.

 

 

Yet it’s middle class India that sets the agenda for the future. The rich may impress the media. They can keep buying and selling companies. They can keep corrupting our politicians, defrauding our banks, grabbing our coal blocks and parking their money in Swiss banks. But India’s moral spine remains unbroken because the middle class still believes in justice, honesty, honour and pride in the values that they have inherited from their parents whoever they may have been. The heirlooms they live with are not crafted out of gold. They are crafted out of knowledge and wisdom and ideals. That is why wherever you look today, it is middle class India that is throwing up the real heroes of our time. Their agenda for change remains intact despite all the heartbreaks, all the disappointments we live with. And, I dare say, some of the shame.

 

So while I am, like most of you, impressed by what our Prime Minister keeps saying and all the reforms he has promised us in months to come, I would still like to believe that the India we will leave back for future generations must be as concerned about its art, its culture and its values as it is about its GDP growth and its budgetary deficit. Politics is not just the art of managing the economy. It is also about inspiring a nation and a people to discover where their true genius lies. I would like to believe it lies in our talent, in the values we have so tenaciously hung on to in a difficult and changing world where the discourse invariably focuses on what the rich demands or what the poor needs.

 

We, the middle class, go largely unnoticed. We are not rich enough to influence policy. We are not poor enough to be won over by free water or electricity. So we remain what we always were, invisible.