On my landing in Italy, I was greeted by a lot of south asians on the streets of milan and other places in italy. This was surprising as I didnt realize that italy is amongst the favorite destinations for my brothers.
On closer inspection I found most, if not all to be bangladeshi. They were particularly friendly with me and didnt seem to be mind indians for the most part, to the extent that they pass themselves off as indians to the locals here.
This adds to the puzzle that is bangladeshi. Back home they seem to espouse a virulent hate towards indian and all things that are indian. This is even more surprising as India was the only reason why bangladesh is a country and not continue as East Pakistan. I can assume we would be hated if the Indian army arrived as an occupying force, but once the bangladeshi government had been established, the indian army packed up and left.
I still dont understand the dual faced nature of the country. Right now they are so downtrodden economically that they have migrated enmasse into India, to the extent that the local population in quite a few of the north east states have been termed as minorities. A lot of the terrorist activities in India for the past few years have arisen out of bangladesh and dhaka. They still spew hate towards India. They seem to be almost as ungrateful as the kashmiris.
Yet once outside the sub continent why pass of yourselves as Indian. I dont understand the bangladeshi’s.
Now its no secret that my dressing sense is ridiculed by all friends and not so friends. Be it my lack of ironing or mismatched clothes, but my choices don’t seem to please anyone.
Now European men are supposed to have an excellent sense in clothing (though why they tend to keep up their offensive smoking habits beats me), so I thought maybe I’ll pick up some tips along the way.
I was flying from london to milan with a stop over at zurich. So at zurich I saw a very nicely dressed italian man get on the plane. The gentleman looked to be in his 30’s and a very nicely tailored suit with excellently matched dress pants and shoes. Now indians have an innate ability to stare at someone, maybe its our innate curiousity on trying to figure out how someone is not indian and yet seems to be entirely functional. So I decided to put it to use and tried to observe the guy closely to try to get some sort of matching tips. His grumpy look throughout the flight and the balding hair all seem to fit in the distinguished European look.
On alighting in milan and in our bus towards the terminal, I stood next to our subject matter and concluded that this look is the one for me, all I need is the same color combination and my clothing ridicules will be at an end. At the terminus our italian gentleman turned around to get down and hung on his shoulder was a pack with the words Spectacular Spiderman with the web crawler strutting out his prowess in all his glory. So close…. or maybe there is no such thing as ‘good dressing sense’
I’m on a trip around europe and though it may not be as exciting as the movie of the same name, it might be an interesting enough trip to blog about.
These would be interesting highlights of the tour.