While USA was eagerly awaiting the return of the space shuttle Atlantis, the only other country doing so must have been India, rather its media, all because there was an astronaut named Sunitha on it. One would have heard our newsreaders and reporters say “Sunitha and others” as if the other astronauts and their work was of least importance.

Why is there this desperation to hang on to the Indian “genes” even in its most minimal presence, whenever there is any achievement abroad? Are we that short of achievers and achievements that we have to highlight NRIs and PIOs? Coming to think of it, unlike Kalpana Chawla, Sunitha Williams is neither India-born nor India-educated. Someone pointed out in a “letters to the editor” column that the only Indianness is in her name. If it were to be Sheela (Sheila), Anitha (Anita) or Brinda (Brenda), even that would have been anglicised so as not to retain any vestiges of Indianness.

I must confess that even I am not an exception to this rabid com-patriotism. When I visited Hawaii with my husband, both of us being senior citizens, we could not take part in any of the tourist activities, which were so colourfully painted in their brochures and posters, such as surfing, scuba-diving, para sailing, etc, etc. So, our son planned to compensate by treating us to a Broadway type of musical show in the best theatre of Maui.
The show was very well produced. It was about the early history of the Hawaii islands. The high-tech sound and light and other special effects impressed us a lot. There was a percussion concert at the end of it, which reminded me of the talavadya kutcheris of India. The lilting Hawaiian music, though sounded quaint, brought about the ambience of the bygone era very well.

But, our undoing was, opening the booklet in the intermission, the one in which the synopsis of the play was given and the dramatis personae were enumerated. The latter comprised of actors of all origins. But, what we noticed was, the girl who did the “fantastic” “maiden of the moon” dance was one Geethanjali!  She, clad in flowing white robes, danced on a rope hanging from the ceiling with a spotlight trained on her.

Well, that was the end of it. All our focus shifted to Geethanjali and the rest was ignored.

After coming home, we thanked our son for the treat. But, we could hardly wait to break the news to him, “Hey, the rope dance girl was an Indian!”

My son guffawed knowledgably, “I knew it already. I purposely did not reveal it to you earlier. I did expect that, of all the spectacular items presented, you would remember only Geethanjali, because she happens to be an Indian!”