Working Class Snob

For long I have battled this. What category do I fall in? In some cases it’s very clear. Like I always say, the world is divided- between people who like/love/adore Aamir and people who simply like Shahrukh and the twain shall never meet. People who drink coffee and people who enjoy their chai. People who grew up on a steady diet of Archie’s vs. people who can’t get enough of Asterix. You pick a side, and you live in it. You seldom cross over and only losers straddle both.

But when it comes to mass vs. elite, I simply can’t peg myself to one slot.

Recently at an office training, the instructor who had known me for all of that half a day, passed a comment about supermarket shopping and used me as an example of a person who probably never steps into Fairprice and in all likelihood does not even know the existence of a Shop and Save (by the way does Shop and Save still exist?). I was mildly offended, as it a massive stereotyping. And just because I wore a pretty short dress, sipped my cappuccino, and made notes in a hand-bound personalized diary with my Montblanc pen did not make me a person who turns up her nose on Singapore’s very own Fairprice! The nerve of the man!

Except I do. So he was spot on. Unless I am dying of hunger (probably not even then) would I step into a Fairprice.

But I am also the person who coordinates her work schedule based on shuttle bus timings. And takes the MRT to go to my magic temple in Potong Pasir which takes 10 times longer than hopping in a cab.

I still much rather go to Parkway Parade (in the shuttle) for the convenience than trudge all the way to Ion, Orchard for the snob value. Though I do enjoy Ion once every other month. The point being it’s an indulgence and not a norm.

And I would take a Stardust over a Vogue any day!


On the flip side, I would never buy clothes at a This Fashion (though I must admit I did, when I first came to Singapore over a decade ago. On an AE salary in advertising and paying utility and grocery bills, even This Fashion was a luxury). But I do hold Zara in good esteem.

I have certain very working class (or as Indians call it ‘middle class’) values. Like I still do the bindaas rickshaw travel in Bombay and don’t hire an air con car, I do not own more than 10 shoes at ones time (hey! I know people who have over 100 pairs. I am super modest!), I am content with basic dal-chawal meals and more comfortable around books than iPads. And I do not own a single designer bag (No Guccis, no LVs, not even a measly Coach).

But hey I also exhibit many snooty traits- never eating at food courts, only living in Tanjong Rhu (except again when I first came to Singapore), never staying in backpacker kind of places when travelling, turning my nose up on commercial cinema ventures like Patiala House. Well you get the drift.

I feel lost. When I am with the true working class even though I live like them most of the time, I feel self-conscious. But I know the elite people judge me as being way too “middle class”. Who works in advertising to pay a mortgage when you can lead a tai-tai life and go shopping every day? (No one has ever told me that, but boy I have got that look many times).

Guess if I had many readers-which thankfully don’t- I would have pissed off both sects as it may appear I am being snobbish towards one while judging the other.

But here is my thing...I never judge. Really. No one knows about another person’s life completely, so who are we to say who is doing it right and who is oh-so wrong. May be there are certain people I find tough to relate to, but their life is their own. They live by their own choices and thus the consequences. I do wish everyone would award others by the same understanding.

Live and let live is my simple mantra.

So now as I sit by the pool, sipping my lemonade (OK, a vodka infused one) I realise, the most important thing is to be comfortable in your own skin. People will still put you in the buckets they have built in their heads. And there is not one thing you can do about that.

So well I am equally comfortable indulging in high tea in Raffles hotel as sipping filter coffee in Murugans.

I love my wine (German Reisling) and cheese (double brie- still can’t do the blue cheese variety). As much as I relish the 10th Road Juhu bhel puri.

I do not wear Charles and Keith shoes (they are just too uncomfortable!) but I could never get myself to buy a Jimmy Choo either.

And I am equally comfy in a cotton sari (which my friend calls ‘NGO sari’) as I am in a summer cotton tube dress (which my mum calls ‘no shoulders dress’)

So be at ease with who you are and...to borrow a quote from a friend ‘just chill’.

The pain is the same

At a lunch party this week, once again the ‘tiger mother’ topic came up. One of my friends referenced a blog where a mum wrote that the kind of mother one is can be largely dependent on the social strata you are in. Take yourself a few rungs down in income, career and education, and perhaps you will be more of a tiger mother than you are now. As much as I would like to think that I would never be anything like a tiger mother, I am a more of a ‘follow your heart and do your thing as long as you are not harming anyone’ kind of person. But that point stayed with me.

Yesterday I watched this absolutely fabulous film- Do Dooni Char- a beautiful touching, yet humorous, portrayal of middle class Delhi teacher (played brilliantly and so realistically by Rishi Kapoor- my second fav movie of his now after Kabhie Kabhie) and his middle class family. It will tickle your funny bone and pull your heart strings, both at the same time. It showcases the daily grind and issues faced by middle class families in India as they fail to make ends meet with increasing consumerism demands. Side-bar- It was an absolute delight to watch Neetu Singh back on screen. She is the best! And am so glad she did not make a comeback with a glam-sham Karan Johar movie, but instead chose this one.

And this evening I finally managed to watch Dhobighat. I will need to dedicate a whole post to talking about that movie. It was simply divine! The reason it makes its way to this post (while still retaining a whole post of its own too) is that Dhobighat also bought into limelight a similar issue of class ideologies and what happens when the 2 worlds converge.



All this made me wonder...how different are we from each other? And I came to the conclusion that people’s emotions are exactly the same. You cannot classify love, hurt, pain, passion, longing, homesickness into working, middle and upper class.

When ‘Duggal sir’ in Do Dooni Char finds out that his son has been betting on cricket and making money, he makes him distribute all his winnings to street children. There is no shouting, yelling or any sort of punishment. Yes there is hurt, and there is a realization on how parenting teen kids can be a daunting task. It’s no different from how you or I would feel. We may react in different ways- depending on our temperaments and means-but the feelings don’t change.

A teacher living in a one bedroom apartment in Delhi suburbs and we living in high rise condos in district 9 and 15 in Singapore- are both helpless to protect our children from societies growing vices.

When in Dhobighat ‘Yasmin’ was making a video diary of her new life in Bombay to send back to her brother in UP, the pain in her voice when she missed her family was just what I used to feel when I first came to Singapore. She was in Bombay trying to get used to the big city life while enjoying all it has to offer, but she pined for her home. It took me back 13 years...I too had a made an audio diary of my life in Singapore for my family and friends- I told them of my new experiences here and I reminded them how much I missed them and longed to be back to my Bombay, back to them.

There is a big social divide between Yasmin and me. I have the means to fulfil my desires of being closer to my family. She did not. That was the only point of difference. The pain we both went through, the longing of wanting to be back home was exactly the same.

We forget this. We forget that all that all that separates us from them is that we have the means to change our situation. These means are usually monetary and sometimes social leverage. We forget that with kind of incomes we earn and careers we keep, we are a very small percentage of the society at large.

When it rained continously last weekend, we all cribbed how it prevented us from going out. Going out to spend more money and buy more thing we don't need. For most others it means that they will have to find innovative ways to prevent their make shift roof from leaking, or spend hours trying to get the rain water out of their houses.

When there is a power cut in urban India, we can barely survive those few hours without our TV and air con. And we forget that millions of people still don't have the luxury of electricity.

Quoting a dialogue from Kal ho na ho- “Apni nazar se dekho toh tumharein paas bahut kum hai, kisi aur ki nazar se dekho toh bahut jyada”.

Let’s try not to take these privileges for granted- because that's exactly what they are- privileges. Given to us by God Almighty and can be taken away anytime...Let’s remember that the pain is same.