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By:

Naresh Kamath

5 November 2024 at 5:30:38 am

Indian Tourists Need a Reputation Reset

India has long taken pride in the philosophy of ‘Atithi Devo Bhava’ - the belief that guests deserve warmth, respect and dignity. It is an idea deeply woven into the country’s cultural imagination, often been projected as a defining Indian value. As millions of Indians travel overseas every year, the conduct of a small but highly visible section of Indian tourists is increasingly shaping how India itself is perceived abroad. The issue is not about a single incident or a handful of viral...

Indian Tourists Need a Reputation Reset

India has long taken pride in the philosophy of ‘Atithi Devo Bhava’ - the belief that guests deserve warmth, respect and dignity. It is an idea deeply woven into the country’s cultural imagination, often been projected as a defining Indian value. As millions of Indians travel overseas every year, the conduct of a small but highly visible section of Indian tourists is increasingly shaping how India itself is perceived abroad. The issue is not about a single incident or a handful of viral videos but a pattern that is drawing notice from hotels, tourism operators and local authorities across the world. The debate gained fresh momentum after reports emerged of a Swiss hotel issuing a notice specifically addressed to Indian guests. The advisory reportedly requested guests not to pack food from breakfast buffets for later consumption and reminded them to maintain silence in corridors and balconies. Hotels routinely issue guidelines. But when a particular nationality becomes the subject of a specific advisory, it inevitably raises larger questions about perception. “It is a sorry state of affairs. Indians, especially in groups, are displaying atrocious behaviour. This was anyway bound to happen,” says Subhash Motwani, founder of Namaste Tourism. Embarrassing Incidents Whether the notice was justified is another separate matter. The question is why such perceptions are emerging in the first place. Recent months have seen several incidents involving Indian tourists gain traction on social media. One widely circulated video showed travellers performing garba on an airport tarmac in Vietnam. Garba is among India’s most vibrant cultural traditions and a source of immense pride for millions. Yet airports are highly regulated spaces where safety protocols and discipline take precedence over celebration. The incident became symbolic of a larger problem. The rise of social media has encouraged some travellers to treat foreign destinations as stages for content creation. Public dancing, loud celebrations, disruptive behaviour and attention-seeking stunts may generate views and engagement online, but they can also leave lasting impressions on locals and fellow tourists. India is hardly the first country to confront such a challenge. During the 1950s and 1960s, American tourists acquired a reputation for arrogance abroad, giving rise to the phrase “Ugly American.” Britain spent decades dealing with the international embarrassment caused by football hooliganism. China faced similar concerns as outbound tourism surged during the early years of the twenty-first century. A nation’s image is shaped not just by its economic achievements and diplomatic influence but also by the behaviour of its citizens overseas. India today finds itself in a similar situation. Indian tourists are now among the most visible traveller groups across Europe, Southeast Asia and the Middle East. This is, in many ways, a remarkable success story. However, with visibility comes responsibility. Hospitality professionals across destinations frequently point to recurring concerns. Excessive noise, queue-jumping, disregard for local regulations, overcrowding hotel rooms and attempts to bypass established rules through jugaad are among the complaints often cited. Collectively, repeated experiences can create lasting perceptions. The most revealing aspect of the debate is that Indian travellers often display exemplary discipline in countries known for strict law enforcement. In destinations such as Singapore, the UAE, Qatar and Saudi Arabia, compliance with rules is generally high. Complaints tend to emerge more frequently in places perceived as relaxed or lenient. That suggests the challenge is not one of awareness. Most travellers understand the rules perfectly well. The problem is often a mindset that rules can be negotiated when consequences appear unlikely. Changing that mindset is far more important than introducing additional regulations or issuing fresh advisories. Every interaction at an airport, hotel, restaurant, tourist attraction or public transport system contributes to how a country is viewed. These everyday encounters often shape perceptions more powerfully than government campaigns or tourism advertisements. As India stakes its claim to a larger role in the world, its citizens must recognise that national prestige is shaped not only by economic achievements and diplomatic successes, but also by everyday behaviour abroad. The overwhelming majority of Indian tourists travel responsibly and leave behind positive impressions. Their conduct rarely becomes news because courtesy seldom goes viral. Yet a handful of highly visible incidents can overshadow thousands of positive experiences. The challenge is to encourage responsible travel and a greater awareness that behaviour abroad carries consequences beyond the individual. The conduct of Indian citizens overseas should reflect the confidence and values of a nation seeking not merely recognition but enduring respect. (The writer is a senior journalist based in Mumbai. Views personal.)

The Vanishing Green: Rethinking Development in India

Updated: Mar 17, 2025


Aravalli

The Aravalli mountain range, stretching over 700 kilometres across northwestern India, has long stood as a natural bulwark against the relentless creep of the Thar Desert. These ancient hills, among the oldest geological formations on the planet, cradle vital rivers - the Chambal, Sabarmati, and Luni - that sustain millions. Yet today, the Aravallis are under siege. Centuries-old forests are disappearing, groundwater reserves are dwindling, and once-thriving lakes have shrunk into memory. Mining, livestock grazing and human encroachment have gnawed away at the range’s resilience, accelerating desertification and imperilling the fragile ecological balance.


In response, the Indian government has announced the Aravalli Green Wall Project, an ambitious attempt to restore over 800,000 hectares of degraded forest land in its first phase, with a budget of Rs. 16,053 crore. The initiative seeks to construct a green buffer, rewilding vast swathes of land to arrest environmental collapse. It is a necessary corrective, but also a sobering reminder of the damage already done.


Elsewhere in India’s northern states, the pattern repeats with tragic familiarity. In Himachal Pradesh, rapid highway construction has severed the delicate thread between progress and preservation. In Joshimath, Uttarakhand, a holy town precariously perched on unstable terrain, the ground itself has begun to give way. Roads and homes have fractured, the land beneath them sinking under the weight of unchecked expansion. Official reports attribute the crisis to natural causes - subsidence, the slow settling of the earth - but experts insist that human hands have hastened the disaster.


The mountains of Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh were never meant to bear the full brunt of unrelenting development. Composed largely of sedimentary rock and soil-rich terrain, they depend on dense forests to anchor their slopes. These trees, centuries-old sentinels, hold the earth in place, absorb rainfall, and prevent landslides. Yet the march of infrastructure in form of highways slicing through virgin wilderness, commercial townships sprawling where forests once stood, has stripped them bare. Without their protective cover, the mountains crumble, and with them, the settlements that cling to their slopes.


This tension between development and destruction is hardly new, but it has become increasingly dire. The logic of progress, when left unchecked, often tramples the very foundations it seeks to build upon. Growth demands roads, power plants, and industries, but it cannot afford to ignore the ecosystems that sustain human life. The Green Wall Project is an attempt to reconcile these competing interests, yet its very existence underscores a broader failure: the inability to integrate sustainability into the blueprint of development itself.


The irony is glaring. In one part of the country, forests are being planted to mitigate environmental degradation, while in another, they are being sacrificed in the name of expansion. The lesson of Joshimath, of Himachal’s eroded hillsides, and of the Aravallis’ slow decline is not that development must cease, it is that it must be redefined.


Sustainable development cannot remain a lofty ideal confined to policy documents and global summits. It must be a living principle, embedded in every infrastructure blueprint, every economic plan, every decision that shapes the land. Climate change has already transformed large swathes of India into a furnace of droughts, floods and searing heatwaves. If forests are the lungs of the planet, then India’s rapid deforestation is a slow but deliberate act of suffocation.


The Aravalli Green Wall Project is a start, but it must not be an isolated effort. India stands at a precipice, where the price of progress can no longer be measured solely in GDP figures and kilometres of paved roads.


(The author is a journalist based in Dehradun.)

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