Statistics is a bitch. Take, for example, the fact that statistically I only have one relative per 1000 square miles in India. But all that is completely thrown off when I go to my town. In my hometown, my relatives are more densely populated than dust mites. Every time I step outside, i am bound to meet at least one of them. I mean my relatives, not dust mites.
On my last visit, this relative of mine sneaked up on me on the street. To avoid this person I wouldn’t hesitate to jump into the sewer overrun by the pigs, whose company I would probably enjoy more. But he didn’t give me a chance. Our conversation ended like this:
He: I heard that Indians are discriminated against in the US, is that true? The white people treat us like second-grade citizens?
Me: I don’t know about rest of the US but it is not true about where I live. In fact, white people are the minority in Bay Area and people often joke that they are the second grade citizens there.
He: People of that country don’t understand what great country we come from. They don’t understand the value of our culture. Even a dirty Negro thinks he is better than us.
I stood there with my mouth open. I didn’t know where to begin to correct him. I politely informed him that “Negro” is a politically incorrect term and that implying blacks are a “lesser” race than us is infuriating. I regret that I didn’t quite know how to tell him he was the biggest racist I ever met and he personally is “lesser” than the pigs I referred to earlier.
