The GREAT Indian Question

In retrospect it is always very easy to say, “I should have seen it coming” It is just that the “it” always manages to take me by surprise. Not because this “it” was so unusual, rather because it was so inane. Mundane to an extremely annoying sort even the first time. The always asked ”So what language do you speak at home?”

Please people, what is it about an inter-state love marriage? Why does it so pique the interest of those who have had the other kind ( I am inclined to call it dislike or indifference) of till-death-or –the-divorce-court-clone-tear-us-asunder arrangement? Of course this is a universally-desi( since there are 1 billion plus of us, universal DOES apply) phenomenon. No matter what the occasion, how inebriated the state, wherever the venue, amongst a group of Indians, this topic does come up. After of course the “How did you meet”, which is pretty intolerable, but not quite as idiotic.

The idiocy of the language question lies not quite in the content but in the context it is evoked in. usually by total strangers. As in almost total strangers. Because for a people who bestow “Unclejis” and “Auntyjis “ liberally( much like the garam masala in hostel cooking), the casual acquaintance of another casual acquaintance, met casually at a casual watering hole is hardly stranger. And the question crops up usually in the first six minutes of the conversation. Somewhere after the “which part of India are you from” and the “how did you meet”. Sometimes it comes in after the “I saw ” or after a hurried confidence about “ he likes only Indian food” if the speaker be a woman. But always within the first six minutes.

Because no matter how I answer it, it is not the answer the questioner seeks. Rather the asking of it and then emitting a “How interesting” which is another very stupid thing to say. More so because it is only me the female of the combination who gets asked this question. By men and women alike. Like last time. The husband of the casual acquaintance, who was a dear friend of the casual acquaintance of my “till-death-or-inane-questions-tear-us-asunder” partner asked me after a few seconds of polite( but with an expression of “I would not care a damn”) talk of “what do you do”. Which in my opinion was a waste of both his time and mine, because in this really cool place, Republic, with a couple of layered rum thingies inside me polite conversation with a strange and horribly boring man was the last thing I wanted to do. I got married to have boring conversations with a non-stranger , but not in “Republic” where a large portion of the populace was trying out various forms of horizontal dancing on the plush leather couches…..you get the idea….

Anyhow I replied with a “English” and would have gone on to “Hindi” to be greeted by a “even at your home” Well duh ., I was not talking it in is home was I . “As in your native place” he clarified. Why were my linguistic peculiarities more interesting than the fact that I was interested in meso-mico research in HR Management, but even more of the rum thingies did not help answer the question.

Which brings me to my gripe about it. It is obtrusive. Get it people, interfering to the nth degree. Because you are total strangers to me. As are the questions about how we met and when we got married. Because we do not know you. Nor want to. Certainly not after these idiotic bits of conversational jetsam. Because it is not your business what goes on inside my home. Because you do not need to know.

Having said that, I must now prepare “original” answers to the big Q. For my personal and private entertainment. Because being rude is what I need resort to. Answers like “Well since it is Saturday, English..” or better still “Swahili, that way nether knows what we are saying”. Maybe a "Talk, we DO NOT TALK at home"

Any other ideas?