We, the invisible middle class-Pritish Nandy
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.
