Skip to main content

Of Boys And Men

A few weeks ago, I signed into a long forgotten, half-way abandoned Yahoo account. There was a whole bunch of spam and I was about to empty the contents of the Inbox when I noticed what appeared to be a long e-mail thread. The names were exclusively Desi and appeared to be real. After reading a few messages, I realized that my id had been inadvertently included in the class of ’92 mailing list of a well known engineering school in India.

Reading some more, I noticed the absence of any females in the group – I should have clued into that sooner given the frequency of risque humor and the terms of endearment that people employed to address each other. The only time the group curbed its enthusiastic use of expletives was when someone announced the birth of a child accompanied by pictures of the infant.

The politics, psychology, physics and metaphysics of the Zidane head-butt was discussed for several weeks. Of course, I did not see the point given India does not make it even to the qualifying rounds of the World Cup. Most other conversations were idle ramblings or read like announcements on a bulletin board (A changed jobs, B moved cities, C is organizing the Alumni meet at Phoenix this year, D is going to be in Norway for six months anyone else out there ? Anyone know the whereabouts of E who has been unaccounted for since 1997 etc)

A couple of things about this group and the their mailing list got me thinking. The frequency of the mailings was nothing short of alarming. Averaging between 20 to 30 mails a day, they had inundated my mailbox in a little over a month. I am assuming in addition to this there were private message threads being exchanged on a one to one basis. Though they had very little of consequence to talk about as a group, they seemed to care a lot about banding close together as they must have doubtless done 14 years ago.

That is a lot of e-mail traffic for anyone who has a job to keep, children to rear and bills to pay. These are men approaching 40, doing well professionally (by most standards), husbands, father of children, responsible for making mortgage payments among other things. Work and higher education had dispersed them geographically and I would think given them opportunities to meet new people and interface with new cultures.

Being more like the E who has been “unaccounted for since 1997”, I find it hard to imagine what a group of 40 odd that first came together as adolescents corralled for four years in the same college campus could have in common in their late 30s. I can understand an Alum organization serving as a professional or even personal network but this group had way more passion than it takes to sustain a mere "network".

I had to wonder if their lives were so empty that they needed a relic from the past to imbue it with a sense of purpose and fullness. Or perhaps no achievement in their lives compared to being accepted by a top tier engineering school in India – it probably short circuited brain receptors that enable normal people to savor their post-collegiate existence.

If not anything a mistaken email identity gave me opportunity to see the dynamic of desi-male bonding from the vantage point of a fly on the wall. I left feeling that the state of jejune juvenilia is permanent with the desi-male. They never quite break free from the familiar cocoon of the college fraternity. Their identity at middle age is still defined by nicknames bestowed upon them as 18 year olds by other 18 year olds and 20 year old jokes regurgitated ad nauseum. I would have expected a discourse more sophisticated, eclectic and mature from a group of well educated men of their age and circumstances in life.

It’s not often that a mailbox clean-up exercise puts my dating disasters in such clear perspective. Now, this E sounds like a man after my own heart – small wonder then that he is MIA since 1997.

Comments

Anonymous said…
This is a widespread phenomenon but I think mostly restricted to IIT alumni :) I notice it all the time among my brother's valley friends. All the IIT guys (in their late 50s/60s) still talk about college days and God forbid if they also went to Stanford. The desi wags here call them the A list. I am sure its the same for the Ivy league types, they must have a secret handshake.
Heartcrossings said…
SFG - Aren't these A list types supposed to be highly intelligent and all that ? I don't understand the correlation between high IQ and such asinine behavior. How exceptionally pathetic to have nothing else to talk about and have lived on the planet 60 long years. I feel sorry for them.

Popular posts from this blog

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques