What not to bring to India..!

My cell phone rings, I pick it up, it’s friend Prem from the US of A. “Hi Prem,” I say affectionately after I’ve listened to his greetings, “You’re planning to come to Mumbai huh? Oh, that’s nice, and you want to know what I need from the States?”
I look around quickly, my bottles of whiskey and rum appear half empty, and I decide a bottle or two from duty free won’t hurt his wallet too much, “But Prem,“ I tell him, “Before I tell you what to bring, I must tell you what not to bring!”
“No, no, no, you may bring your wife,” I chuckle, “It’s about things Prem, not people. Like, what are you putting all your stuff into? Oh, you’ve already packed, good! But what have you packed them in; your shoes, and other stuff? Plastic bags!” I scream in fright.
I look outside my window, hoping no municipal inspector had heard me scream the P word, “Prem,” I whisper, “Unpack all your stuff! Yes, you heard me right. Throw away all those plastic bags. They’re banned here! You’ll be caught at the airport, fined and maybe jailed. Yes, you heard me right, all your precious dollars will be taken by the government!”
I heard my friend unpacking his bags, then asking me why plastic was banned, “They couldn’t implement segregating like you guys” I admit shamefacedly, “So as usual banning is easier!”
I wait till he has unpacked and repacked all his bags then hear him say hello again, “And Prem,” I continue, “Don’t come out of the airport chewing a burger. You may get lynched by the mob, sorry the crowd outside, if they suspect it is beef!”
“What? Oh, you don’t eat beef? Yes, but the mob doesn’t know the difference, and may thrash you, then string you up from the new tower outside!”
I hear heavy breathing from my friend, but decide to prepare him even more for his trip to India, “And Prem, I know it’s been some time since you left our country, I just hope you haven’t changed your religion or anything like that? What! You have! You’ve become a what? No, you can’t Prem, they’re becoming very particular here. They’ve begin to insist on everybody worshiping the same way, going to the same place of worship, and bowing to the same gods!”
I hear the rustling of paper, “What are you doing Prem? What? Looking at a map? You’re not coming to India? You’re going where? To North Korea?” I ask incredulously, “You’re going to North Korea? Do you know how things are there? What? What did you say? That it’s not as bad as how things are here?”
I hear the gentle click of his phone as I looked dismally at my half empty bottles and know there’s not going to be any replenishment for quite awhile..!

Share this post

PinIt
    scroll to top