The elegant looking gentleman with the white skin and the dark suit collided messily with the elegant looking gentleman with the dark skin and the white dhoti-kurta as they tried to reach the middle of the Shatabdi train compartment. They picked up the random pieces of luggage off the floor.
'Sorry', said the white skin in the English accent that he reserved for the natives.
'Soary', said the dark skin in his Malayali-English accent that he preferred over his educated Indian-English accent.
They smiled at each other in a cultured gentlemanly way and found their seats. They smiled again when they discovered that they were sitting in seats directly facing each other across the center of the compartment. The train began to move and in the settling down and the looking out of the big windows at the station passing by, they forgot about each other and were soon lost in their own thoughts.
The white-skin's thoughts went something like this:
'One more victory for western civilization. The standing ovation after my speech felt good. I don't know how much longer it will take these darkies to work with real technology. Maybe its the hot climate that makes them lazy! But these darkies...'
'One more victory for western civilization. The standing ovation after my speech felt good. I don't know how much longer it will take these darkies to work with real technology. Maybe its the hot climate that makes them lazy! But these darkies...'
He looked up at the dhoti-kurta-turban clad Indian opposite and noted the chandan teeka on his forehead.
The dark-skin's thoughts went something like this:
'One more victory for eastern civilization. Cutting the ribbon with all the TV cameras around felt good. Some of the kids who sang had real talent. It is good that there are some like me to uphold our parampara. Otherwise every body on this train will be dressed like this white man...'
'One more victory for eastern civilization. Cutting the ribbon with all the TV cameras around felt good. Some of the kids who sang had real talent. It is good that there are some like me to uphold our parampara. Otherwise every body on this train will be dressed like this white man...'
He looked up at the suited-booted figure opposite and noted the uncomfortable looking necktie.
'Barbarian', thought the white engineering professor, 'with his face-paint and his strange headdress'. And he smiled at the idea.
'Uncivilized, uncultured vulture', thought the dark classical musician, 'with his black pieces of flapping cloth'. And he smiled at the idea.
Catching each other smiling the two gentlemen smiled another warm, open, friendly smile at each other.
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