Her great grand parents had left the village to flee to Britain, where they thought life for Indians would be better. Reduced further in status and wealth, her grandparents survived on assistive stipend and meals provided by the government. Life was certainly not better for them. English government was no more the mighty and infallible one for them.
It was contact with Mark Spencer that changed the direction of waves of penury and despise. He helped Smita's grandparents set up a garments shop.As the fortunes changed, solely attributed to the purchases by the British nationals, respect and then fondness of the western culture kept on increasing till the time everyone in Smita's family had forgotten that there was an Indian element in all of them. Even Smita's formal name was Sue.
Smita's urge to know India came from her school friend whose family went back to India a few weeks ago. She would post pics in fb, all excited about her old home, ancestry and culture. Also during chats, she would ask Smita to convince her parents to come at least once to India, "Ok Baba, come to India only for Taj Mahal, can you ?", her friend asked.
Smita was also finding it hard to connect to the British students. Culture in her school was not exactly like what she would have been comfortable in. In lieu of escaping from here course, she wanted to come to India and see what it got for her. She read an Indian history book, geography in India, climate and many other articles related to India.
Reading things about India, she got curious about her own caste and her village, which she asked from grandfather. And as Smita's grandfather kept on explaining his family's culture, how they evolved with time, and what's there in India for them now, he found himself attached to his home in India. Just in a matter of few weeks, all tickets to India were booked and arrangements in their native village set up to receive them. Many in Smita's family were about to witness some things for the first time in their lives. The dust from fields, homes without air condition, heat of the weather, the ancestral property, instant connection with kins, and many other things were waiting for Smita's arrival.
All in Smita's family were received warmly, and were driven to Basti, Uttar Pradesh, where it all began, the family tree. The open fields were like Smita had never seen before. Homes with cattle and tractors were delight to check out. Adding to this, the smile of her relatives were too genuine to forget ever. Her summers had already begun with her trip to Basti! "It's a different feeling here", said Smita. She had reached a place where she could connect instantly with people around her, and also had a lot to learn. She felt as if
she had come to her long lost home.
It was contact with Mark Spencer that changed the direction of waves of penury and despise. He helped Smita's grandparents set up a garments shop.As the fortunes changed, solely attributed to the purchases by the British nationals, respect and then fondness of the western culture kept on increasing till the time everyone in Smita's family had forgotten that there was an Indian element in all of them. Even Smita's formal name was Sue.
Smita's urge to know India came from her school friend whose family went back to India a few weeks ago. She would post pics in fb, all excited about her old home, ancestry and culture. Also during chats, she would ask Smita to convince her parents to come at least once to India, "Ok Baba, come to India only for Taj Mahal, can you ?", her friend asked.
Smita was also finding it hard to connect to the British students. Culture in her school was not exactly like what she would have been comfortable in. In lieu of escaping from here course, she wanted to come to India and see what it got for her. She read an Indian history book, geography in India, climate and many other articles related to India.
Reading things about India, she got curious about her own caste and her village, which she asked from grandfather. And as Smita's grandfather kept on explaining his family's culture, how they evolved with time, and what's there in India for them now, he found himself attached to his home in India. Just in a matter of few weeks, all tickets to India were booked and arrangements in their native village set up to receive them. Many in Smita's family were about to witness some things for the first time in their lives. The dust from fields, homes without air condition, heat of the weather, the ancestral property, instant connection with kins, and many other things were waiting for Smita's arrival.All in Smita's family were received warmly, and were driven to Basti, Uttar Pradesh, where it all began, the family tree. The open fields were like Smita had never seen before. Homes with cattle and tractors were delight to check out. Adding to this, the smile of her relatives were too genuine to forget ever. Her summers had already begun with her trip to Basti! "It's a different feeling here", said Smita. She had reached a place where she could connect instantly with people around her, and also had a lot to learn. She felt as if
she had come to her long lost home.
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