An Indian Interpretation Of The American Ways

AmericanQuirksPhoto by Adam Sharkawy

Deriving an American: Page 2, Indian Interpretation

Playing football with the hands and not the feet

+ Food portions the size of Donald Trump’s ego

+ Netflix (i.e 20 shows divided by episodes per day per unit of unfinished chores)

+ 9/10 unbelievably generous cabdrivers

+ Questionable understanding of an Indian accent

+ Be.Que.Bar.Be.Que. X calories^ribs

It should be duly noted that my brain works wildly backwards. In other words, it's horrified by mathematical concepts. With that said, I ask you not to look at me with narrowed eyes if you find any of the above factually incorrect; I did right by the Asians in attempting to prove the science behind Dinosaur BBQ. I’ll wait for my “A for effort” if you want me to.

28 days have now passed since the USA has welcomed me to live in the land of stars and stripes. And for 28 days, I have been given selfless helpings of American culture: on my fifth day I was introduced to the biggest gangster in the U.S. His name is Netflix, and he could hook me up with anything. By the tenth day, I accustomed to being exposed to random girls' stretch marks waving hello from under their cheeky shorts while I walked down the street, with my parents.

If you're one of these girls, could you maybe not turn around and be all like “Ma life, ma rules…" because that in India would result in a sistah getting bitch-slapped. Probably across the butt.

In case you haven’t noticed already, this is a (master)piece where I, as an Indian-in-the-US, yes-for-the-first-time, yes-India-is-kinda-far-away shed light on (and throw shade at) what I have noticed so far. Be warned, I sound like a judgmental prick perhaps some, or arguably most of the time. That is just me taking out my pent-up frustration with people not understanding my jokes on the first try, or the fourth. I’m going to blame this on my accent, because I stubbornly believe that I have good jokes up my sleeve.

So on a scale of twerk to Trump, I’m going to evaluate the following:

1. Cab-drivers

Cab-driver embody being "nice." Like, as nice as your grandma when she knows you’re trying some shit with Atkins and realizes you need some real cookies in you ASAP. Unbelievably helpful and friendly, these men seemed to take genuine interest in our lives and not just because we had to pay up. Did they know the Indian Rupee wasn’t doing so well? (Thanks Fed rate) Regardless, they’re interesting people who listen when I said India has more than one language.

2. Football

The game is called football except for it's not football. Apparently you play with your hands. Soccer is the real football guys, wake up and smell the logic or the lack thereof. I hope you don't find that too offensive but if it helps, I do find Tom Brady good-looking AF.

3. Salad

Salad for brekky, lunch and dinner: I was promised obesity. Why are ya’ll not delivering? Now I have to feel majorly inferior when I reach out for my second slice for New York Cheese and I tearfully notice you raking through the lettuce and broccoli on your plate. I notice the sly cheat with the bacon crumbs though. Yeah, you. I saw that.

4. Netflix

Netflix is the original bae. Who dresses up HD for all your dates (and speaking of your dates….stop with the mm/dd/yyyy. It’s not cool and the rest of us hate you for it) No more illegal downloads of the latest New Girl episode. That’s right, I was a criminal. Keep that in mind the next time you call me tiny.

5. Mean Girls-esque scenarios

Okay, nobody has gone as far as to say “You can’t sit with us” yet, but daily life at college seems to play out exactly as we see it on movies. The stereotypes are unfortunately proven right more often than you’d think. People use the bathrooms in ways that could make the person in the next cubicle extremely uncomfortable. The freshmen are definitely fresh. Oh, and I may have heard one or two conversations that start with “OMG you’re not gonna believe the crap this guy pulled, like OH my God." It’s freaking hilarious.

In closing, I’d like to say we are not all like Raj from The Big Bang Theory, nor are we like his moron sister Priya. And everybody who has been awesome enough to say “Can I say Divya as Diva? Cuz that’d be cool," sure, inform the American flag that its 51st star has arrived and get me some glitter.

Also, can someone inform Siri that she’s racist? She doesn’t listen to me.

Real TalkDivya Murthy1 Comment