A young boy bravely slams Prime Minister Narendra Modi for his new Main Bhi Chowkidar campaign. He hits the nail on the head by saying that what the country actually needs is a prime minister and not a chowkidar – which, he is sure, India can get from Nepal. His sharp message about Modi’s failure to create jobs or effectively lead the country lands on its target. The crowd applauds. I go off Twitter.
‘Chowkidar Nepal Se Mangwao’: Stop the Stereotyping & Scorn
If the prime minister of this country is dying to be called a chowkidar, whatever his populist political agenda may be, what is it about being an actual chowkidar that deserves such condescension, that, even amidst such unemployment, chowkidar toh Nepal se mangwaoge? After all, both are ‘servicemen’. In fact, I would say that the type of jobs that my people do in India are essential to the economy.
Businesses would shut without cooks and waiters, establishments would be left open to threats and robberies, and yet, the ones who help keep the wheels turning are looked down upon, by those they serve.
As Dutch historian Rutger Bregman would say, these are not “bullshit jobs” that most of us “deskers” have. When will we learn to instill dignity in work, especially those done by hardworking immigrants?
What I find even more amusing is that in a country where no chowkidar or chaiwala is given the respect of an average salaried person, the PM always opts for a ‘humble-origin story’ campaign. The man who works on the sidewalk. The subaltern. Modi’s followers quickly praise the man for truly understanding the plight of the common man.
‘Chowkidar’ Campaign Reveals Our Hypocrisy – And Elitism
And yet, there’s delicious irony in that the same people eagerly changing their name to chowkidar on Twitter don’t know their own chowkidar’s names. They would never even dream of taking up that job, clearly reserved for a particular type of working class, like the ‘Nepali’. The hypocrisy continues.
I am a Nepali who has spent almost all of this decade in India. Casual comments like these are not new to me. I went to the country’s best law school which supported a very liberal and tolerant atmosphere, and yet I used to get genuinely surprised ‘compliments’ on my “great English” and ability to grasp concepts as easily as my peers.
My first midterms at the university solidified this casual condescension thrown at me; I learnt of my results from three seniors, all of whom had checked the bulletin board to see if the new Nepali had passed. Beyond a point, ignorance is no longer ignorance. It’s racism.
Countless Comebacks for ‘Chowkidar’ Campaign: No Need for Racism
Whether it’s at a public debate or an elite institution, India’s classist underbelly does not hide. This is hardly an experience unique to Nepalis in India, but our stories rarely see the light of day. After all, why would we raise our voices against the people we depend on? Truth be told, it does not particularly affect me, because I get the better half of it. Nepalis like myself are shielded by the privilege of our socioeconomic class that apparently affords me better treatment than the rest of my country.
But this confounds me. What takes away the dignity and respect for the rest – those immigrants who, despite being afforded limited opportunities, do what they can, persist and thrive?
There are countless possible comebacks to the chowkidar campaign inside the BJP universe itself. There is no need for racist collateral damage.
(Saransika Pandey is a Nepali living in Bengaluru since 2011. She is a graduate of National Law School of India University, Bangalore, and currently works as a strategist at an integrated communications agency. This is a personal blog and the views expressed are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)
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