Living in London is like running an endless marathon and a Londoner just another busybody in the massive ant brigade. Life sprints ahead even before one realizes life. In some sense the life is quite similar to any other urban city of the world, but what is remarkably different and striking is its unique attitude. 9 million people reside in the city and speak close to 300 languages, yet the city has its own identity. London way of life is infectious and irrespective of where one comes from, almost instantly one becomes a part of the herd. If you do not talk, eat, dress or behave like a Londoner, well then you can be spotted from a distance.The internal operating system by default becomes compatible to the London way of life. Life runs on auto pilot, and at the same speed as the underground tube one boards every day to work and back, always on time, super-fast  and rarely out of service.

Boss, ‘I think, am going to be off sick next week for two days’! Yes, true enough nothing spontaneous is expected nor appreciated; dinners are planned months in advance and holidays a year in advance. So, people like me can never manage a single holiday because lastminute.com syndrome in my life leaves me with no other option, by the time I decide to head out, all the rooms are booked and the cheap fares taken. Firstly, I can never decide where I would like to go 50 weeks later and secondly how on earth am I to sustain a state of super excitement for that length of time? So, just like that I decide to float around in my own dreamy milky way as some lost meteorite not to mention my two constant companions- stress and disappointment.

I, sometimes wonder if making spontaneous decisions and living life in moments is in the Indian DNA and is it possible to be well planned for everything, every time? Well, people here certainly are and their life’s calendar including the funeral is all sorted-either you fit in or you wait.

The other characteristic of the London life is that the city does not talk on weekdays and on weekends once it’s drunk it just cannot stop talking. However, what is particularly intimidating is the deafening silence of the daily commuters. During the peak hours the train carriages are packed with people yet the silence is overwhelming no one encourages nor appreciates a pleasant smile or a greeting. True enough, if silence was ever louder than words, it is only here- it screams loud- ‘Do not talk to me’.

If there is ever any loud voice that pierces through the silence it is that of some immigrant or not so well bred white individual talking very loud on the phone or to his companion. There is no stopping him, his pitch is loud and exclamations even louder. So amidst uncomfortable stares and frowns the screaming individual stands alone, as everyone start moving further down the carriage.

On the other hand the loquacious Indians generally used to being very verbose in their speech find this cultural difference hard to comprehend. Back home the day starts with multiple conversations with all and sundry from the milkman, the driver to the neighbours. The constant chatter, blaring tunes of Chamak Chalo, the incessant honking of the cars, the hustle and bustle in the household and the mayhem on the streets truly mark the beginning of a new day. Hence, verbosity comes very naturally to Indians after all the Indian languages are built on phonetic scripts. The culture encourages freedom of speech, addas, open forums and arguments over cups of tea and suddenly to discard the penchant for speaking and resign to a life of silence and etiquette is nauseating. The seasoned well to do NRI, is quick to adapt and behaves no different than any other Londoner. However, “The Talkative Indian” in him longs to talk, sing, sneeze and swear loud without a care in the world.

Well, talking about longing nothing can be more tempting than the urge to eat hot parathas or delicious butter chicken whilst you sitting in a crowded tube reminiscing the good old holidays back home.The food scenes in London are predictable everyone is gripping finger food as they go about their daily life on weekdays and a lavish spread limited only for weekends. Hot Indian breakfast and even hotter meals for lunch and a spicy three course alternative for dinner deliciously cooked and served to you is a luxury only the queen can afford. Cereal for breakfast, sandwiches and soups for lunch and a mere cheesy main course for dinner is not really a tempting option for the foodie Indian, so one ends up spending all the spare time cooking elaborate Indian cuisines. It is true, food habits can never change, they only adapt a little.

The trouble is that we are not a Yes or No nation and nothing is black and white, there is always that grey area which defines the chaotic and mystical Indian way of life. However, whilst retaining the essence of the soil there are many aspects that need to change. An average Indian talks far too much for very little productivity. Most times he continues to talk even after the audience has stopped listening. He lives to eat to the point of being unfit and unhealthy. Indian soul spends all his life juggling between expectations, emotions, and duties, to an extent that he forgets his own wellbeing.

The oversensitive, argumentative, passionate Indian lives a fuller life but almost always carries undue stress.The trend is slowly changing, over the years, a Global Indian soul is absorbing and adapting to the niceties of other cultures whilst retaining his Indian Identity. He happily settles down to listening to Bollywood tunes on his headphone shutting the lonely world behind him, enjoys his spicy chutney tikka sandwich for lunch, works hard and works out even harder. He willingly spends a little more to fuel his prompt holiday spirit. He may still fail to make long term plans for simple things like holidays and dinners yet is wise when it comes to planning finances for life or retirement.

Many things are changing and many cannot, but one thing is for sure- ‘Living life in moments and for others’ is in the Indian DNA.