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COVER STORY: URBAN
YOUTH
No More A Elitist's Delight
The first rule of
a Lucki is style-and the first rule of style is to have money. And later,
to know how to spend it. Until the 1980s, it was a picayune class of Indians
that took the benefits of the global adventure like it was its birth right.
Their offspring would study at boarding schools in India or London and,
if they had pass-like grades, snootily move on to Oxbridge and Harvard.
Their holidays would be in St Moritz, Paris or the indolent resorts of
the French Riviera. For them, unlike the rest of India, indulgence was
never injurious-it was the opium of the elite. The gradual opening up
of the economy in the 1980s leading to the watershed reforms of the 1990s
saw the storming of these bastions. By the New Rank Outsider as the Indian
nouveau riche came into its own. As restrictions lapsed, tax-lucky exports
and trade thrived and markets boomed, the new spendthrifts began a material
revolution that jeered at such Socialist rebukes against "ostentatious
spending". Spending money was no longer seen as vulgar. And the Luckies
would be the grand inheritors of this legacy. "Schoolchildren drive
to school in Honda Citys where we walked or bicycled in our time,"
says Dr Monica Chib, a psychiatrist at Delhi's Apollo hospital. "Parents
give them all they never had, hoping that their children will, as a result,
be more successful."
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DELHI
"I love silver jewellery ... and dressing
up, especially at night."
Fiamma, 22
Acting, squash, travelling, theatre and modelling
once in a while. More: she can sing too and hopes to come out with
an album. Shopping for bags and shoes is an addiction and a Citibank
Gold credit card comes handy. Dad, a retired army officer pays the
bills, although he "does flip once in a while".
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Studying abroad, once a staunchly elitist prerogative,
has now become so routine that universities, not only the traditional
ones in the United States and England but also in Australia and New Zealand,
are swarming with Indian students. Kolkata-based Saurav Jalan, with the
healthy backing of his father, plans to do an MBA in the US (after he
couldn't get through London School of Economics) and is now taking his
TOEFL and GMAT seriously. And Rama Kulkarni, 19, currently doing her BFA
in textile designing at Mumbai's JJ School of Art, keeps networking with
her seniors for information on international access. "I'm still in
my first year so I have lots of time to decide," she says, "but
I simply love the idea of studying abroad." A couple of decades ago
it would have remained just an idea. The new-fashioned accent on trade
has made international travel also much easier. Now, through bargain air
tickets and an increased forex allowance, youngsters could see the original
fountainheads of TV-aired imagery. Lonely Planet-type budget trippers,
MBA contenders or teens visiting their London uncles and aunties, all
boost cultural cross-pollination when they come back with the latest software
technology, a smarter wardrobe and Puff Daddy's latest add-on. Anmol Singh,
an 18-year-old college-goer from Delhi, ensures he goes for at least one
trip abroad each year. Zeesham Mukhi, a year older and a second year engineering
student from MHSS College, Mumbai, exclusively goes to Dubai for the annual
shopping festival bringing back a bagful of CDs, electronic gizmos and
designer clothes.
The independence of the Lucki marks him out
from the generation before him, but comes at a price. "We are exposed
to so much so fast-sex, drugs and competition," says Pooja Mukherjee,
a 19-year-old ballet dancer and model, "that our emotional baggage
is greater."
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DELHI
"What's life without social service?
I do plenty of that."
Kanika, 20
It's a busy life being the president of the Rotary Exchange Student
Club, sharing a hand in dad's handicraft and home furnishings business
and finishing a BA from Jesus and Mary College. But she relaxes
by shopping ... mostly for shoes (Prada and Gucci) and bags (Dior
and Vuitton).
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Yet the Luckies frolic in the spacious sexuality
of the times. They have, after watching their luckless predecessors, adopted
a double-barrelled approach: one, that marriage is not a slapdash union
of a post-college romance and a first-job wallet, and two, the more you
flirt, the better you get at it. Luckies, therefore, are no-hang-up libertines;
in no rush to get married or, as one teenager put it, remain "forcefully
committed", but in every hurry to add variety to their sensual interaction,
the opportunities for which are steadily increasing. Delhi-based Debarpita
Bannerjee, 25, an ambitious associate account director with Leo Burnett
says that she has been dating "on and off" ever since college
and that marriage is not a priority because she wants to give "100
per cent to her job". "I'll think about it when the right guys
comes along," she says. Malcolm Khurshed, an 18-year-old Mumbaikar,
says that although he has a long-time girlfriend (with whom he keeps "making
and breaking up"), he keeps casually dating other girls in-between
"whenever someone catches my fancy". Marriage is a short street,
and the U-turn is quick. Divorce lawyers talk about Lucki marriages breaking
up in weeks due to reasons like "I was not being served bed tea in
the morning".
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