The Chaos Within
Smiles
I had interesting meeting yesterday with a DJ and his sister… potentially a dance track that – ‘A DJ and his sister.’ I can almost hear it being pumped out at one of those universal clubs in Pune.
Why universal?
It looks and feels and tastes like any club I’ve been to, and while the colour of people may be different… verite - with the BPOs, call centres and MNCs in Pune, there are more Brits here than during the Raj (neo-colonialism without a doubt – but that’s another story… ok hyperbole). Add the North African and Iranian students into the mix, and stir vigorously for a multicultural cosmopolitan city.
The DJ is a creature of this multicultural cosmopolitanism. (I must be breaking some rule by placing these two once-evocative-and-now-trite words in such close proximity to each other). The DJ that sat before me yesterday with his pencilled-in moustache, lightening rod beard and wavy coloured hair was such a creature. (My use of creature drips with the connotation of ‘create,’ I do not mean it in any derogative sense.) He struggled to smile and his sister struggled to speak.
I looked at the DJ. He looked back at me and smiled, just a little.
This was a middleclass boy, mid twenties, ‘cool’ was his projected image. Inside he was a young man who has been HIV+ for four years. His sister wants a bride. She wants me to help. The bride is for her brother… I know this is Pune, but ‘His sister wants a bride’ could be another dance track of our pseudo-inclusive age. (Pseudo-inclusive? - We just pretend to be inclusive. Prejudice lives! We just deny it exists.) Family, he must have a family. His sister was adamant. It is a family that can lift him. It is a family that will make him taste and swallow life again.
To find the DJ an HIV+ bride, is an interesting proposition. I felt like a tall bearded Yenta from Fiddler on the Roof. I invited him to come and work with us on DISHA. He smiled again. His sister smiled too, a little more nervously… the guarded smile, we can’t describe it, but we know it when we experience it.
The DJ is the first middleclass English speaking HIV+ person I have encountered in Pune. I made this clear. I wanted both DJ and sister in need of a bride to know that the people we work with are more than just the socially marginalised, i.e., they are socially marginalised by poverty. (Yes, I understand poverty to be an entity; it exists, it breathes, it preys.) There are brilliant, real smiles at DISHA. Smiles that dazzle, smiles that humble, smiles that twist you in that innermost place and remain within you for a very long time. These are the smiles of the economically deprived. The DJ is affluent and educated. Remember, prejudice lives. This is real life. The ideal is blurred, scarred and often a lie.
I care deeply for our clients and my team and I will not tolerate any classist crap. It had to be said. I said it gentler. The DJ’s smile will be a welcome addition to the project. It does not yet have the resilience of some – Jyoti, a young mother of two in stage III of HIV/AIDS, beamed at us when we walked into the orthopaedic ward, after she had sustained multiple fractures in her right leg. A bike had knocked her down. “I thought I was working too hard, so I decided to take a few days off.” This is what she said as I sat down next to her concerned about her awful experience. – but the DJ’s smile will learn from those around him. It will learn defiance. It will learn more courage. It will learn to twist the insides and remain with those that see it.
He starts Monday as a volunteer.
I had interesting meeting yesterday with a DJ and his sister… potentially a dance track that – ‘A DJ and his sister.’ I can almost hear it being pumped out at one of those universal clubs in Pune.
Why universal?
It looks and feels and tastes like any club I’ve been to, and while the colour of people may be different… verite - with the BPOs, call centres and MNCs in Pune, there are more Brits here than during the Raj (neo-colonialism without a doubt – but that’s another story… ok hyperbole). Add the North African and Iranian students into the mix, and stir vigorously for a multicultural cosmopolitan city.
The DJ is a creature of this multicultural cosmopolitanism. (I must be breaking some rule by placing these two once-evocative-and-now-trite words in such close proximity to each other). The DJ that sat before me yesterday with his pencilled-in moustache, lightening rod beard and wavy coloured hair was such a creature. (My use of creature drips with the connotation of ‘create,’ I do not mean it in any derogative sense.) He struggled to smile and his sister struggled to speak.
I looked at the DJ. He looked back at me and smiled, just a little.
This was a middleclass boy, mid twenties, ‘cool’ was his projected image. Inside he was a young man who has been HIV+ for four years. His sister wants a bride. She wants me to help. The bride is for her brother… I know this is Pune, but ‘His sister wants a bride’ could be another dance track of our pseudo-inclusive age. (Pseudo-inclusive? - We just pretend to be inclusive. Prejudice lives! We just deny it exists.) Family, he must have a family. His sister was adamant. It is a family that can lift him. It is a family that will make him taste and swallow life again.
To find the DJ an HIV+ bride, is an interesting proposition. I felt like a tall bearded Yenta from Fiddler on the Roof. I invited him to come and work with us on DISHA. He smiled again. His sister smiled too, a little more nervously… the guarded smile, we can’t describe it, but we know it when we experience it.
The DJ is the first middleclass English speaking HIV+ person I have encountered in Pune. I made this clear. I wanted both DJ and sister in need of a bride to know that the people we work with are more than just the socially marginalised, i.e., they are socially marginalised by poverty. (Yes, I understand poverty to be an entity; it exists, it breathes, it preys.) There are brilliant, real smiles at DISHA. Smiles that dazzle, smiles that humble, smiles that twist you in that innermost place and remain within you for a very long time. These are the smiles of the economically deprived. The DJ is affluent and educated. Remember, prejudice lives. This is real life. The ideal is blurred, scarred and often a lie.
I care deeply for our clients and my team and I will not tolerate any classist crap. It had to be said. I said it gentler. The DJ’s smile will be a welcome addition to the project. It does not yet have the resilience of some – Jyoti, a young mother of two in stage III of HIV/AIDS, beamed at us when we walked into the orthopaedic ward, after she had sustained multiple fractures in her right leg. A bike had knocked her down. “I thought I was working too hard, so I decided to take a few days off.” This is what she said as I sat down next to her concerned about her awful experience. – but the DJ’s smile will learn from those around him. It will learn defiance. It will learn more courage. It will learn to twist the insides and remain with those that see it.
He starts Monday as a volunteer.
posted by Deep Griha at 5:36 am
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