We South Asians are in the horns of a conundrum. Our society thrives in contradiction, and this subject deserves a chhota dekko.
Here we have a rich and vibrant culture going back millions of years (ok, thousands) and the Immigration Officer at Indira Gandhi International Airport grooms his nose in a rich and vibrant manner as passengers on BA 262 from London disembark. And when you visit Mohenjodaro, a khaki-clad security guard is attending to a private itch using a technique handed down (pardon pun) from generation to generation, and has changed little since the zenith of the Harappan Civilisation.
In an area of the world that saw the dawn of the Great Hydraulic Dynasties where ancient Kings could build irrigation canals that traversed the countryside for 15 kilometres or more in a gradient of two centimetres without any help from the World Bank, we have citizens lined up against the wall at bus stops attending to IDD calls from nature.
In Allahabad, descendants of the authors of the world´s first love manual take gender sensitivity very seriously indeed as they let their hands roam inside crowded buses.