Do you love our country? I asked a young boy seeming in his last teens, probably on his way home after the Mumbai rally for ‘Remember 26-11’, which was a tribute to the people who lost their lives as the fighters and the hostages, when the terrorists attacked some most reputed hotels of the financial capital of the country – MUMBAI.
Yup dude! Of course I do, else u won’t find me here otherwise , he replied, his voice cheerful.
Given a chance to settle in the States, Would you accept the offer or stay back in India? I asked again.
He took a deep sigh, looked around where his friends were still holding posters with provocative captions against the politicians and the entire political system; then started scratching his nails and playing with his fingers, as if he wanted to borrow some time for carefully calculating and counting the number of reasons for him to stay in the country.
He looked straight into my eyes and after thinking for a while, he said I’ll go to the Americas.
To my surprise, with a pause; he added to this, his eyes lit, Is there any way I can be outta here? Can you help me wid dis? Do u ve any jugaad, buddy? , and he winked as he completed.
Jugaad is a strange word in Hindi which can never be exactly translated into any other language, nor can anyone but an Indian ever understand its actual meaning. ‘Jack’ though is often used as a substitute, but it always fails to reflect the real essence of the word.
No, I don’t have any jugaad. But I thought you loved your country and always wanted to stay here. Ehh! I was a bit irritated the way he winked at me and his paradoxical response.
Of course I love my country but... oh c’mon! Open ur eyes dude! Just look around. Why do u ever want to be in a country like this? Yahan sab jugaad se chalta hai. I’ve got one life, n I for heaven’s sake, don’t want to waste it here. I wish to ve a perfect life as Americans do. They don’t ve to crib about their fucking political systems like us. They ve a place worth living, do u really think our place is. They ve the overall good System there, we don’t. I love my country but …..
He went on and on and finally left with disgust on his face, but I was occupied with his two words that he spoke; jugaad and system . Now here jugaad had a different meaning, reason I said the word can’t be translated in any other language. It implied a workaround.
That young college boy in his low-rise jeans, loose t-shirt, converse shoes, some Australian beard and pierced eyebrows left me with a question that day. Why do we have to look for workarounds always? Why can’t a thing be permanently fixed? Aren’t there any way out that we stop living our lives on jugaad?
He had a point, I thought that night.
