Indian Light Switches

Jyotika, Margaret, and Rishabh (otherwise known as Rishbar when I mangled his name . . . but I eventually got the hang of it).

When you move to another country to live and work for 5 months, you know things will be different. You know you will encounter cultural differences, a different language, and have challenges navigating a new city, a new home, a new workplace.

But still, things surprise you. In my apartment in South Delhi, in Saket, I live on the top floor of a building owned by Mrs. Gulati. This means 3 flights of stairs to walk up. And it was dark and cold when I moved in in January. And so in climbing up those stairs, you need light. And there was not one centrally controlled hallway light, but rather, a separate light with a separate switch for each portion of the hallway. Although this may not sound complex, when you add in the appearance of Indian light switches, the darkness, and my general disorientation — it was.

Light switches and doorbell. Which one is which?

So I had to concentrate very hard to turn on the light switches as I climbed up — and then backtrack and turn them off so the lights were not left on (Mrs. Gulati kindly reminded me of how expensive electricity is). But next to one of my neighbors’ doors, after already climbing two flights, I could simply not remember which switch was the doorbell and which switch was the light switch.

As a result, after ringing the doorbell countless times at all hours of the morning and night, I met Jyotika and Rishabh, and they showed me true Indian hospitality. They invited me for lunch, and presented me with an amazing assortment of appetizers, a glass of whiskey to take the chill off, a delicious lunch, topped off with a trip to the extremely fancy City Select Mall (where I found my favorite perfume store, Jo Malone!) and a cup of masala chai from Chaayos.

On a cold February Sunday when I had nothing to do and was missing my family, the warmth and curiosity and friendliness of Jyotika and Rishabh was so comforting. They were the first to explain the Indian adage: Atithi Devo Bhava, or Guest Is God. And that is what I felt like. They showed me their beautiful apartment, shared their lives (Jyotika works for Coursera and loved the same Coursera course I had recently started, Learning How to Learn by Barbara Oakley, and Rishabh is in tech at the HindustanTimes), and asked me questions about my family and work.

Throughout my time at D 102 Saket, they helped me countless ways — buying a sari, taking deliveries, advice on living in Delhi, welcoming my husband Jonathan for a visit, and finally, coming to my farewell party in full style and with a delicious chocolate cake inscribed with “India Will Miss You.” Jyotika and Rishabh, I will miss you!

Switch panel in my bedroom.