Child of a lesser God

Durga Das works the tables at the plush Emirates transit lounge in Dubai airport. He mostly encounters human beings at their worst -- in between long hauls or waiting for delayed flights. He realises it's important for him to smile when being yelled at. It's an important weapon to have when you deal with jerks.
Durga left his village in Bihar many moons ago in pursuit of the petro dollar. He tells me he must be the richest man ever from his village. He wishes he could get a better life than to wait tables but for now the Dirhams keep the stove burning back home.
As he offers me another beer with a smile, he analyses transitional humanity to me. White people are largely polite, Arabs are indifferent and Indians are the worst classists, he declares. He is quick to point out that I am all right. Indians are the worst, he seethes, all sugar and honey with even white beggars but so rude to "lesser" Indians. I nod in empathy. Durga walks off to attend to fat white man who has spilt food all over his generous tummy. The smile is back on.