On a recent holiday to Jaipur, staying at a heritage property in the city, I was surprised to see its entire housekeeping staff was Nepalis. I would have expected to see them in Patna or Dehradun or Gangktok and in Indian metropolises but in a Jaipur haveli? They were 11 in all – with Mongoloid features – looking not a little incongruous in traditional blue kurta, white churidar, red waistcoat and colorful orange turban. The boys were scurrying around with linen, cups of tea, the guests’ luggage. Some were shy, solemn-faced but others flashed easy smiles when I chatted them up.
The youngest among them was Chakra, just 18 (a couple looked far younger). The eldest, 55. Most were in their 20s. Raj Gurung spoke fluent Marwari but he was the exception. The rest managed with Hindi and hardly knew a word of English. But I didn’t care – Diet Coke is universally understood, I suppose. They didn’t care either. They were just glad to be earning 3,000 Indian rupees a month (approximately 5,000 Nepali rupees) – even though it is about 1,000 rupees less than what a local would earn in a similar job. Isn’t that exploitation, I ask them. Raj considers the question and responds, “It may well be”. Is it because you’re Nepali, I ask him. He shakes his head and then says “Other migrants – from Bihar and UP, for example – are in the same boat”. He goes on to say some things had in fact improved over the years. They now even had a direct bus link to Jaipur from Gorakhpur in UP!
The management of the Mandawa property cared even less. The Nepalis were hard workers, I was told. Stayed out of trouble. Lived on the property so were available night or day, unlike locals. And unlike locals – who aspired to life beyond ferrying tea or sweeping rooms – the migrants were more flexible in trying out different jobs.
Jaipur, for me, was a refreshing eye-opener. The national capital (my city) and India’s commercial capital are bursting at the seams. Migrants in these cities, whether from other parts of India or from neighboring countries, are generating a backlash – public and political. But thankfully, there isn’t yet a Raj or Uddhav in Rajasthan. Instead, the state – traditionally conservative and famously wedded to local tradition, customs and culture – appears to be welcoming migrants from Nepal.
Just like Jaipur is going beyond seeing all Nepalis as “chowkidar Thapas”, the political elite in Nepal needs to go beyond painting India as the hateful big brother.
A scholar at Jaipur’s Rajasthan University tells me the city is home to 15,000 to 20,000 of them and there’s actually a mini-Nepal in Jaipur. It’s called Pashupatinagar – complete with its version of the iconic temple. Annual festivals are organized, local Hindus take part in them enthusiastically. The migrants have access to Nepali film and music CDs. Some turn tourist guides for visiting country cousins. And they’re not just in Jaipur. You’ll find them scattered in Jodhpur and Udaipur, employed in the hospitality, construction and mining sectors.
According to Dr BC Upreti, religion (Hindu) and language (Hindi) are a major reason why Nepalis are welcome in Jaipur, in sharp contrast to the Bangladeshis, who are generally regarded as outsiders and with suspicion. The Nepalis’ own “behavior” – they’re law-abiding and work hard – earns them acceptance, even respect of the people. And so the politicians see no gain in rhetorical tirades.
Delhi and Mumbai can certainly learn from Jaipur – but so can Kathmandu. Just like Jaipur is going beyond seeing all Nepalis as “chowkidar Thapas with a proclivity to use the khukuri”, the political elite in Nepal needs to go beyond painting India as the hateful big brother always out to exploit their country men and women. The 1950 Friendship Treaty is a lifeline for thousands of Nepalis, from the Tarai and hills alike, who crisscross the 1,800 km-long open border to study, live, work and play here. Playing politics over the use of Hindi by Nepal’s vice president, whipping up imaginary fears about two Indian sky marshals who can “impinge Nepal’s sovereignty”, or allowing thugs to bash up Indian priests is almost like cutting your nose to spite your face. Just ask the boys in Jaipur.
(Paarull Malhotra is the chief diplomatic correspondent and an anchor with CNN-IBN.)
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