This little boy, let’s call him Ramu, stayed in a small village in Gujarat, an Indian province. He had a bosom friend called Shyamu.
Ramu was not even ten years old when he migrated to America, along with his parents.
Over the next two decades, he was a completely transformed man, having imbibed American culture and got used to their way of life, but he did not forget his mother tongue, Gujarati.
So it was no surprise that when he did come to India after two decades, he sought out his old buddy Shyamu and started chatting with him in Gujarati. The two of them decided to go for a stroll and in no time were out of the village and into the open fields, when Ramu stopped in his tracks. His jaw dropped and his finger pointed in the direction of a man relieving himself holding little John.
All he could utter was, “Police na pakde? America-ma toh police pakde,” roughly meaning “do the police not hold? In the US, the police would hold.” Whereupon the simpleton (or smart alec?) that Shyamu was, replied, “Na bhai, aame haji etla sudherela nathy, amare toh jatej pakadvo pade,” meaning “No brother, we are not that civilised yet, we have to hold him ourselves!!!”