Gupta Goes Greek

 

 

 

 

 

Not so early morning. 7AM. DTC bus RL77. As the bus roared it’s engine, the man in front of me spat one long red pichkari leaving fresh deep red blood marks on the white foot walk that looked recently painted. I felt too lazy and confused to do or say anything. I hadn’t even brushed my teeth. Didn’t feel comfortable talking. The suddenness and profoundness of the sharp pichkari also left me thoughtless and speechless. So I collected myself and took admiring looks at the landmarks of central Delhi.  Two traffic signals later, came another pichkari. This time it wasn’t a long jump. The projectile of this one was more of a high jump and didn’t make it to the already dirty footpath but settled only a few inches away from the bus and few droplets on his face too. Might be an occasional slip because he otherwise appeared experienced.

Now the hideousness of this red rain was grossing me out. But apart from demotivating factors stated earlier, this time I also feared that if I speak to him then I too would get a slice of the red shower on me. I ignored once again.

But when the bus hit a speed breaker, the rain man lost some stability and poured down entire tsunami of redness in a consecutive series of 2-3 intense pichakris.

I had to do something now. In these early hours of the morning, I didn’t want to spoil his mood or mine. I didn’t want to lecture or preach. I wanted to just understand what I could do for him to stop doing what he did. What could be an alternative to pichkari?

First, to begin, I asked him if the bus went to a place that I already knew it would. He replied in affirmative and added that that place is two stops away. Now post this ice break I felt comfortable to shoot.

“अच्छा यह बताइये, की अगर पान के साथ एक डिब्बी या थूकदान  निःशुल्क दिया जाए थूकने के लिए, तो इस समस्या का हल हो सकता है क्या ?”   {“I want to ask you something. If a small spittoon is given free of cost along with pan, will that solve this problem?”}

“कौनसी समस्या ?” [What problem?]

“ये पान की पिचकारी”  [Pichkari of paan]

“हम्म .. ” [ Hmm ..] He didn’t totally see it coming but didn’t take too long get out of the mild surprise I inflicted on him through my unexpected question. So he replied after a brief pause.

“बंद कर दो”  [ Ban it ]

“हैं?” [what?]

“डिब्बी से कुछ नहीं होगा। डिब्बी के बाद भी मुझे बाहर थूकने में अधिक सुविधा होगी। टहनी को क्यों काटो। पूरे पेड़ को ही काट दो। पान पे बैन लगा दो। ” [ Spittoon won’t help. I won’t find it comfortable to spit in that. And why bother chopping a branch of an infected tree. Bring the entire tree down. ]

It was my turn to be lost in surprise. That too not a mild one.

“हम्म .. ” [ Hmm ..],  I responded.

“पता तो सबको है कि जर्दा सवास्थय के लिए हानिकारक है। तब भी सब करते  हैं न सेवन।” [We all know that Zarda is injurious to health. Still, we consume. It’s not easy to give up. ]

“पर बैन तो शराब भी है गुजरात में, फिर भी बिकती भी है और पीते भी हैं। ” [ But does ban work? Alcohol is banned in Gujarat, still, it is sold and consumed ]

“क्या बिना पुलिस और सरकार के सहयोग के बिना संभव है वो?” [Is that possible without the help of police and government?]

I had no answer.

“बैन करो तो ठीक से करो, सब राज्यों में करो।  सरकार ने गुटखे में जर्दे पर बैन लगाया और कहा की जर्दा खाना है तो अलग से खरीदो। अब जहाँ 1 रुपये में गुटखा जर्दा दोनों मिलते थे अब 5 रुपये का जर्दा अलग से लेना पड़ता है। जहाँ पहले एक पैकेट से पर्यावरण दूषित होता था अब 2 पैकेट  से होता है। और 5 रुपये किसकी जेब में गए ? सेल्स टैक्स सरकार का बढ़ा। ” [ If you ban, ban it properly and across the states. They tried to ban zarda in the paan by declaring that consumers would need to purchase zarda separately in Rupees five sachets. What did that result into? People still buy that zarda. It is rather more expensive now. And the government gets higher sales tax. And earlier environment was polluted by one packet, now we litter two packets ]

He deboarded.

 

In the past, talking to your friends did not require a background music of food or beverages. An innocuous walk would do. Or just sitting on the roof would do. That changed. Now socializing happens OVER something. ‘Let’s discuss this over a cup of tea’. ‘Let’s get drinks and catch up’.

It is what it is.

But why that has to happen in a Cafe Coffee Day or any fancy cafe or a bar or a fancy restaurant in a fancy part of your city. Honestly, at least in India, most of the fancy places serve food or drinks that are often equally unhealthy as the regular tea stall or neighborhood halwai shop or regular theka-bar.

 

 

 

 

 
 

I had to meet a friend few months ago. We both are from the same neighborhood. It didn’t make sense  to go to a third place that is far off. We do not have a CCD or any cafes in our neighborhood. We decided to get a cup of tea at Sonu Halwai – a neighborhood sweets shop. He was making fresh hot  Samose then. We got those too. Background set, we spoke of the same things that we would have if we were in an upscale cafe. We ate and drank similar things as we would have otherwise except that it was way cheaper here and the tea was ready to be consumed. Unlike in cafes, here we didn’t have to grab sugar sachets and keep stirring sugar. Some fancier places are even worse – even tea water and milk need to be mixed by you. Although I do empathize with their attempt to celebrate individual taste . Further, it saved us the inconvenience of driving some kilometres to find a cafe.

Saving costs and convenience is definitely one push for this favoritism of mine for local and less opulent places.

But other equally strong, if not stronger, force is the concern for widening gap among socio-economic classes in India. Gap not really about how much people make or about their ability to make money, but about the ability of people to be present with each other. Often, you won’t rub shoulder with, say, an auto-driver when you are having a drink of rum or whiskey with your friend. The drink you may have at some bar in Connaught Place or on One Hundred Feet Road in Indira Nagar, in Bangalore, might be similar to those consumed at a theka bar. A less expensive rum or whiskey might be more common. Chances are that your preferred brand might also be available. Perhaps specific concoction like Mojito or Bloody Mary might be unavailable. Granted, the theka-bar may not have the ‘your type’ music, ambiance and crowd. But are these ancillary background items too big to bridge when all you wanted to do was catch up with your friend over drinks? Could it be possible to go over the fence once in a while?

I understand that at bars, safety can be a concern when female friends are involved. But for other socializing at least, like a quick bite or cup of tea, the place in your street isn’t too bad an option. If health and hygiene are concerns, a ten rupee samosa could very well be equally unhealthy as a slice of expensive burger or doughnut.

This occasional fence jumping addresses that widening gap in an interesting way. Going to those nondescript places creates the presence of otherwise disconnected individuals. When you go to those places, it is very much possible that there might be no conversation between you and those relatively less privileged ones. But sheer presence of all of you in the same space ushers in some sense of familiarity. Just occasional unintentional effortless overhearing of each other’s chats or musings will bring in more familiarity than the transactional chats you had with people like them earlier. ‘Will you go to Moti Nagar?’ or ‘How much?’. They too will perhaps learn to hold you in less awe or feel more comfortable with you.

 

 

 

The success of demonetization drive depends on not just economic factors but also operational efficiency drivers. Assume that, if carried out successfully, this drive will give the intended benefits.

For the economists – could there be a better method for achieving the goals that current demonetization aims to accomplish?

For the operations experts – could this be better implemented considering that giving more time and planning would have killed the benefits that sudden strike and secrecy claims to have achieved? Many argue that it was poor implementation – what would have been better implementation?

Last Tuesday, at around 8 in the evening, I got down at Uttam Nagar East Metro station. As usual , today too, footwalk was occupied by grocery sellers and other hawkers. The minor difference was that occasional presence of traffic officer, or I thought that he was an officer. Even though I had been advised several times to pick my battle, it’s hard for me to turn my eyes away and not act if something unjust is happening in front of my eyes. Moreover, this misuse of the public place had been a daily nuisance.

I asked the officer, “Sir, these folks who are selling things here, do they have a permit to do this?”.

His name was Ramesh Singh.

“You ask this from the officer in the police vehicle ahead. ”
“You don’t know anything about this?”

“Can you see this?”, he pointed to his shoulder. “There are no stars here. I am only a constable. I am doing whatever is in my power. I can’t challan them. All I can do is tell them to move. The officer in the official vehicle ahead is the SHO with two stars. Ask him why he doesn’t do anything.”

I didn’t have the time to do that. I started walking on to catch the next bus. The constable followed me.  “What do you do?”

If I said Product Manager, it would invite follow-up questions. This profession isn’t so common yet. “I am an engineer.” No questions asked .

“You are young. As an elder, I am advising you to not get into these things. Certainly not in open. Everyone knows what’s wrong. They are all involved. They all want a pie. Being in uniform, I can’t speak too much.”

I was angry on this advice. But felt sorry to for the officer. He must be of my father’s age. He spent entire life in fear. Even today, in spite of being in the uniform, he hesitates in speaking his mind because he doesn’t find himself secured. His despair was very evident on his face. He wanted to say something more. It seemed that words had almost formed. But at this moment, his silence was way louder than any words he could speak.”

He looked around. Then said, “Listen. These people don’t value life. Nothing is dearer to them than money. If you come in the eyes of people, then what they  can do to you , no one knows.”

“I wrote letters to all these – MCD, Delhi Police, PWD, Kejriwal”

“Good. Keep working like that in stealth. You don’t need to speak to anyone. You don’t need to go anywhere. You have your life ahead of you. Asking questions like that in open won’t do anything.”

I thanked him and moved forward. I understood that he was doing all he could practically.

As I turned around, I saw him following me. I didn’t know if I should keep going or stop. The crowd of hawkers and everything else had  blocked the way ahead so moving further wasn’t an option anyway. And then as I tried to make space and move around I found he was standing next to me.

” We also want same things as civilians like you. Why wouldn’t we want to find a place to walk on the footpath when we pay taxes? Without the uniform, we also face same parking troubles as you do.”

His frustration with the system was very clear. Perhaps he never got the opportunity or right people to express it to.

“Our entire department was against Kejriwal. Still, I voted for him. Now ask him why he doesn’t do anything for here.”

An e-Rickshaw to Dabri was ready.

“I will remember your advice”, I thanked him again and got into e-Rickshaw.

PS: The name of the officer has been changed to protect the privacy of the constable.

 

 

 

It was around five in the evening when I accidentally hit a bicycle in front of my car at the Lodhi Garden traffic signal. The man riding this cycle was carrying two LPG cylinders , tied on either side of the carrier of the cycle. The cycle and the man and the cylinders went through a tsunami of sorts. He looked back. His face red. Even before he could disembark from his cycle to come charging at me, I folded my hands and apologized. There were no words since my windows were rolled up. Through my face, my eyes, my gestures, I communicated my apology. The redness reduced. The face less angry now. He turned away. Signal was still red. Another 15 seconds  left. He moved few meters. So did I. He turned back again. This time I held my ears. I saw a mild smile on his face. Signal green now. We both moved with the rest of traffic.

Heavy traffic made sure our average speeds were same between motorized and non-motorized vehicle and thus I saw him again at the next signal. I looked straight, but from the corner of my eye I was checking if he would recognize me and might want to settle any score. I just noticed that he noticed me. My apology began, again. This time no mild smile. Rather a warm smile and a gesture that conveyed, “it’s okay.”

In a matter of 10 minutes I averted what could have been a serious trouble. In such situations, general public usually charges on the 4-wheeler  driver irrespective of who was driving weird.

Fast forward two years. I had gone to Delhi around republic day to spend time with my family and hear my two yeard old newphew speak because he had recently started talking. I was waiting at the airport for my father. When he arrived on motor cycle, a big Toyota hit my father’s bike from behind. My father was just stationary, waiting for me to walk to him. The car hitting my father’s motor cycle left me seething with anger. I went to the driver, yelling at him. His replied, “ So what?”.  In that moment of anger, I forgot to not be surprised by this considering I was in Delhi. I yelled more. My father took me away and brought me home. I felt helpless.  How hard was it for him to apologize for a mistake that was evidently made by him.

Why is apology going away from our demeanors?

Apology has the power to disarm the angry ones. It can really preempt or impeded some harmful situations or consequences. Still intoxicated in power and money, are we are drifting away from this simple yet powerful tool. Perhaps our towering egos cemented with our relative affluence come in the way?

 

शाम 8 बजे मैं उत्तम नगर ईस्ट पर उतरा। जैसे हमेशा होता है, आज भी फुटपाथ पर फल सब्ज़ी और अन्य चीज़ें बेचने वालों का डेरा था। बस फर्क इतना कि एक ट्रैफिक अधिकारी भी था। मेरे मित्रों के लाख समझाने के बाद भी, कि तू सारी जंगें नहीं लड़ सकता, चुन अपनी अपनी जंग, – फिर भी कहीं मेरी आँखों के आगे गलत होते मैं आँखों मूँद लूँ , यह मेरे लिए कठिन है।  यहाँ तो फिर यह सार्वजनिक स्थल का अनधिकृत प्रयोग एक रोज़ का मसला है।

पुछा मैंने ट्रैफिक अफसर से, “सर , इन ठेले वालों को कोई परमिट मिला है क्या यहाँ खड़े होके बेचने का?”

“अब ये  तो तू  SHO से पूछ, वो आगे गाड़ी  में बैठा है “

“आप नहीं जानते इस बारे में कुछ भी?”

“तू देख रहा यहाँ?” उन्होंने इशारा किया अपने कंधे पर। नाम था इनका रमेश  सिंह। फिर बोले, “यहाँ कोई फूल तारे नहीं हैं, मैं बस एक कांस्टेबल हूँ। मेरे पावर में जो हो सकता है मैं वह ही कर रहा हूँ । इन्हें कहने के अलावा मैं कुछ नही कर सकता। वो आगे अफसर है, 2 तारे वाला। उससे पूछ – पूरी पॉवर के बाद भी क्यों नहीं करता वह कुछ”

मेरे पास इतना समय तो नही था। मैं चलने लगा अगली बस पकड़ने। कांस्टेबल आए मेरे पीछे।
“सुनो, क्या काम करते हो?”

मैं अगर प्रोडक्ट मेनेजर कहता तो और सवाल होते। इतना कॉमन नही यह प्रोफेशन अभी।
“इंजीनियर हूँ”

“आप छोटे हो, बेटा समझ के राय दे रहा हूँ। इन झमेलों में मत फसों। सामने आके बिलकुल नही। सब को पता है क्या गलत हो रहा है। यहाँ सब खाने वाले बैठे हैं। मैं वर्दी पहनकर ज्यादा बोल नहीं सकता।”

मुझमें गुस्सा भी था, साथ में इनके लिए चिंता भी। मेरे पिताजी की उम्र के तो अवश्य होंगे। आज भी इन्हें भय में जीना पड़ता है। वर्दी पहन कर भी सत्य कहने में यह स्वयं को सुरक्षित नही पाते। इनके चेहरे पर विवशता साफ़ थी। कुछ कहना चाहते थे। जैसे लव्ज़ जुबां पर आ ही चुके हों। इस पल, इनकी विवशता का मौन ही, शब्दों से अधिक गूंज रहा था।

उन्होंने इधर उधर देखा । फिर बोले, “इन सबको इंसान की जान से पैसा ज्यादा मीठा लगता है। ऐसे सामने नजर में आओगे तो कब क्या कर दें तुम्हारा इनका भरोसा नही।”

“चिट्ठी तो लिखी है मैंने इन सबको – MCD को, पुलिस को, केजरीवाल को”

“बस यूँ ही परदे में करो। कहीं जाने की जरूरत नहीं। किसी से कुछ कहने की जरूरत नही। तुम्हारे आगे पूरी जिंदगी पड़ी है। ऐसे झगड़ा करने से कुछ नही होगा।”

मैं धन्यवाद कह कर आगे चलता बना। जानता था कि यह जो कर सकते हैं वह कर रहे हैं।

मुड़ के देखा वह फिर आ रहे थे मेरे पीछे। समझ नही आ रहा था कि रुकूँ या चलता रहूं। आगे ठेलों और लोगों की इतनी भीड़, कि  आगे बढ़ना सरल विकल्प था ही नही। इतने में मैंने थोड़ी जगह बनाई, वे मेरे समीप आ चुके थे।

“हम भी क्यों नही चाहते की टैक्स देते हैं तो फुट पाथ पे चलने की जगह हो, सड़क पर गाडी चलाने की जगह हो। बिना वर्दी के हमें भी तुम्हारी तरह ही खेद होता है फिर भी सड़क पर ही गाडी पार्क करनी पड़ती है।”

सिस्टम से इनका रोष साफ़ था। शायद यह कष्ट बाटने के लिए या केवल अभिव्यक्ति के लिए भी पर्याप्त अवसर न मिला हो।

“हमारा पूरा डिपार्टमेंट केजरीवाल  के विरुद्ध है। फिर भी मैंने उसे वोट दिया था। उससे पूछो की क्यों नहीं करता कुछ यहाँ के लिए”

डाबड़ी जाने के लिए इ-रिक्शा तैयार खड़ा था ।

“मैं आपकी सलाह याद रखूँगा”

एक बार फिर धन्यवाद करके मैं रिक्शे में बैठ गया।

***

PS :  गोपनीयता के लिए ट्रैफिक कांस्टेबल का नाम बदल दिया गया है

पहाड़ की मिट्टी , तनिक लग लन दे
जे धुल तोरे तन पे, तनिक चढ़ लन दे

मैं जानू जे धुप, तोरी काया सताय
जाय खुजलाय, जाय लाल बनाय
पर फिर गरमाए, तोहे खूब लुभाय
इस खिलते सूरज को, तोहे छू लन दे
पहाड़ की मिट्टी , तनिक लग लन दे

मैं जानू के लोगन की बातें, बातन की आवाजें
तोरे लेखन में बाधा बनावें
जा कर के लायो तू पहाड़ में mp3 उपाय
पर जे पत्ते, जे चिड़िया, जे फूल कछु कहना चाहवें
पहाड़ के सन्नाटे को भी कछु कह लन दे
पहाड़ की मिट्टी तनिक लग लन दे

पहाड़ की मिटटी से हठ न कर
जाको रंग न जावे जाड़ों भर
बर्फ में भी तोहे याद दिलावे
तोरी मंद मुस्कान जहाँ घर पावे
ऐसो भावुक रंग अब चढ़ लन दे
पहाड़ की मिट्टी तनिक लग लन दे

— राजीव
नवम्बर ७ , २०१६
मुक्तेश्वर, उत्तराखंड

 

I had been meaning to write this post for a year now. I experienced Kerala in its full glory last year for the first time. Now that next Onam has arrived, this post is long due.

…..

I had limited exposure to Kerala. Growing up, I knew only two things about Kerala – it rains a lot there and people are highly literate. Festivals are great way to experience a new culture, and what better way to breathe Kerala than Onam! Now, even though it looks very small, in the shape of a banana on the map of India, yet Kerala is a big state and I had to pick one place to visit. I asked few people where in Kerala I could see nice Onam celebrations. The word Palakkad came up. I looked it up on google maps. Didn’t look too far. Next task – what to do in Palakkad. My idea of travel has irreversibly changed and my travels are incomplete without spending time with the locals.

I checked in my network to see if I could find someone known in Palakkad. Friend or friend of friend. That did not work. Some people knew. But unlike America, hosting a random stranger, even if he is known through common friend, wasn’t super common. My only option now was couchsurfing. I was skeptical about its feasibility. Palakkad is a small town in Kerala. What are the chances to find even a profile created in Palakkad. As it turned out, I did find out a host.

He was Sid, an 18 year old kid who lived with his grandparents in Palakkad. He accepted my request. Before getting to Palakkad, I wrote a letter to his grand parents to introduce myself and thank them in advance for hosting me. I also thought it would be a good idea to speak with him before starting. As he spoke, his voice was nothing close to what I imagined. It had no trace of Malayalam! It turned out he spent many years outside India. I mean he could very well be from New York! Regardless, I was excited to hear his story and see Palakkad.

I arrived at Palghat station early morning. And as I got down, I was mesmerized by the density of greenery all around. I walked towards a cluster of auto-rickshaw men. As I got close, I found myself tongue tied, perhaps not able to figure out the language. Wasn’t sure of English or Hindi. I ended up asking, “how much”! . Without mentioning where I wanted to go! They laughed and figured out it was my first time there.

I reached my host’s place. He welcomed me, took me to a paddy field and showed me around and then went back to sleep. I wasn’t feeling sleepy. I was too excited. So I put on shoes and decided to explore this place by running.

In less than an hour of having arrived here, I had hit the street. Wherever I looked, I would smile and people will smile back. After every 50 or 100 meters, I would look back to make sure I remember to way back. At every junction, before turning, I would make mental note to be able to trace the path back. I crossed a house in whose courtyard, a beautiful pookalam was work in progress. I stopped and asked for a chat. The family asked where I lived. I explained to them how I landed in Palakkad. They gave a perplexed smile. I wouldn’t be surprised if people found the idea of couchsurfing bizarre! I asked if I could help in making the pookalam. The grandfather gladly allowed me to assist him. We chatted and when I was leaving, the son in the family told me that I should come to their place for Sadya if i had no place to go for lunch. I had known them for only few minutes, but they were so nice that they offered me to join them for Onam feast! I bid them goodbye and continued to run around , and take pictures.

It was time to head back, and as I had feared, I forgot the way. I barely remembered or even knew any other family member’s name other than Sid. I remembered that there was a temple nearby. I walked around and asked for help. Thankfully, a biker figured out where I was to go and he dropped me. Sid was up by now. I took shower and dressed up in black shirt and veshti to prepare myself to meet his grandparents.

We went to his grandparent’s place. They were so pleased to meet me. I met his aunt and cousin too. It was quite interesting to note that everyone spoke some level of English. Grandpa was quite an energetic and entrepreneurial man with child like curiosity to learn. He would ask me many questions about my family, my place, my culture. He even possessed a book on ‘Malayalam to Hindi translation’.

He very proudly gave me tour of his ball-bearings factory. At his age, he was very active and engaging.  It was now the time for Sadya. The granny served such a big feast on banana leaf – there were different kind of curries , two payasam and kerala rice and bunch of other things. And the water was pink! Everyday they put some ayurved herb that gives that color and aids in digestion.  She would feed us with so much warmth and happiness that you would be filled with nothing but gratitude.

 

Next day, grandfather gave us his scootie to ‘go, see the town’! Sid took me to Dhoni forest. It was the first time I was driving a scootie but in few minutes I figured out. I hung out with his friends. Often I wouldn’t understand anything. But just hearing the sound of Malayalam was so pleasant.

Soon it was time to end the trip in Palakkad. Before I left, grandpa made horoscope for me, that he neatly placed in file folder. It predicted that out of many friends of mine that speak foreign tongue, one would become my life partner. When I said goodbye to granny, she said, “Come next Onam also”