Running
through life, I have sensed the presence of all those who are not as privileged
as me.
But I've had places to go to,
projects to finish, targets to meet, friends - family to answer to,
parties, appointments., everything seemingly so important within that
moment.
Also, whenever I've stopped
and noticed, I have just felt a creeping helplessness, impotency, guilt
even.
So I choose peace, block my
scope of contemplation and just exist within my limited alternative universe.
But a phone-less, book-less,
thought-less twenty minutes on Bandra station heap me with uninvited
contemplation.
And what can I do but rant.
The shoe - polish guy: he works,
works hard and works with a smile. I respect him. That's his job. Spending all
his days before shoes; holding shoes with his bare hands, dipping fingers in
the shoe-jelly (?), rubbing his bare fingers on to the shoe: front - side -
back - front and giving final touches with his shabby piece of cloth.
Viola! 10 minutes = 10 rupees.
So,
that's his job, dignity of his labor, source of livelihood. Front - side
- back - front and a smart salute to the customer.
Probably he eats vada pav for
meals. Sleeps in a dingy temporary shack he calls home. Front - side - back -
front, as I wait for my friend to show up.
Maybe he has a family; children, grandchildren, friends. Where are they? Do some of them
study? Front - side - front - back, and a cute couple passes by, holding
hands.
Has he ever seen what a school
looks like? Was he a farm hand before? Does he have a future plan? Front -
side - front - back, as a young mother balances her baby and a huge bag.
So how much does he earn? Maybe he sends a part home, may be his family lives in Bombay too, or may be he
works simply to buy alcohol at night. Front - side - back - front. And my
friend walks in and waves, I change my expression to a pretty smile.
I don't even think of a
solution. Many will not even agree there is a problem. I have accepted defeat
years ago.
Stray thoughts of how he is
luckier than many; the homeless, the child sex-worker, the manual
scavenger and all the people we don't even know about. India has third highest
GDP by purchasing power parity. What can I do? How much will it matter?
Useless rant.
And my friend is here, huge smile, big hug, bye bye Bandra station...
5 comments:
Well written, interesting, thought provoking...I always suspected u to be a blog writer!
A few lines through your blog and I was already saying to myself...'mai bhi likhunga!' :) (Pushkal, Delhi)
Pushkal (Delhi), there is only one Pushkal I know ;-) thank you!
Yes you should. .. There is endless things to write about... likho likho. .. chop chop
This is so strikingly similar to what I once wrote for my blog. I completely agree with your view, and I feel like taking inspiration from such people. How they tirelessly work, never expressing boredom, and never even the slightest hint of contempt on their faces. What IS it that drives them so hard? My friend says, 'jab pet pe laat lagti hai, sab kaam karna padta hai'. I guess we will never know..
Amazing writing, will be waiting for more.
Thank you Dhvani. ...
Your friend is right and this is exactly whats wrong na. Mindless wastefulness and mind boggling dearth coexisting....
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