The Epic Speech

Today, in the evening few DU students came to conduct a survey on Rickshaw-wallas. They claimed to be doing it on behalf of Govt. of India! This exercise was part of their project at the end of which they would send their recommendations based on which the government will make welfare policies for us. Wow, finally the government talking some cognizance of the Rickshaw-wallas. Sounds so Utopian!

But this is just a frivolous introduction, the real stuff is the speech of this legendary rickshaw-walla whose name I don't know.

The ritual of form-filling was going on at its full swing when I reached the Metro station. I had no idea and hence I asked, "what's going on?" and what followed was this epic speech. He said -

It's some kind of a survey. What survey man... it's yet another attempt of the government to rob us poor of our livelihood (gareeb ke pet par laat). These people promise us a parking lot. hah... they will give us a parking lot! Bullsh*t. A similar survey was conducted a few years back promising us the world, they started the Campus-Special Bus instead! This time around, they would probably start Helicopters!

(Unlike U-special buses which ply on specific routes, the Campus-special is a circular bus service from Vishwavidyalaya Metro Station touching most of the colleges. It charges a flat fare of Rs 10 for any destination. It came into existence approximately 2 years back and has considerably eaten up the earnings of a rickshaw-walla)

They ask us how much do we earn. Now if we tell them honestly that we earn around Rs 400, the govt's eyes will go wide immediately. *a rickshaw-walla earns so much in a day* instead of doing something for us, the first thing they will do is "how to stop them from earning a respectable income, how to keep them in perennial poverty."

Aisa kyun? (The honesty and conviction with which he asked me that question was quite moving and that's why I put the words as it is instead of translating them. It means - why is it so?)

What have they got against a rickshaw-walla? Are we stealing or robbing somebody? Is earning an honest living a crime? This metro security guard beats us up?
Aisa kyun hota hai?

A man (i guess he said FAT!) gets down from the bus and screams "oye rickshaw" and the rickshaw-walla takes him on board. A bus drops him on the bus stand, Metro drops him at the Metro station but where does a rickshaw drops him? ... on the stairs of his house. If there were a way to take rickshaw from his stairs to his room, a rickshaw might well have dropped him on his bed! and yet people abuse a rickshaw-walla?
Kyun bhai?

When a person bleeds on the road, a car doesn't stop to help him. You call just once to a rickshaw-walla and he takes that guy to Hindu Rao Hospital (the nearest govt. hospital of that area). He doesn't charge you a fortune, even in case of extreme emergencies. He saves lives. And yet people have least amount of respect for us!
Aisa kyun?

He took a long pause when another colleague snapped, "ho gaya?" while pressing a button of his mobile phone. He was apparently recording his speech! Worth recording indeed. Everybody burst into laughter.

You know what I want to ask the government? I want to ask, "why this distance sir? why this indirect path?" Survey...delay...recommendations....more delay... committees formed....eternal delay.
You hold MCD elections, you hold Assembly elections, for what? If you really care, just send down that representative to listen to us. We will not only let him know our ailment but the medicine to cure it as well. We don't expect to get the exact dosage but the suffering would certainly subside even if half of the prescription is met.

But please don't pull this wool of survey over our eyes.

The Homecoming of a Rickshaw-walla!

Who says courts only prolong matters? Sometimes, they expedite them as well although these are "Rarest of the rare" occasions!

Today I had to go against my will to Dwarka distt. courts as part of a family land-dispute case (dont worry I havn't filed a case against my dad for my share! :P ). I have realized that courts are like your best friends. They don't give a s**t when you are hanging around with them but they miss you a lot when you are not not there. So much so that they issue warrants, sometimes non-bailable, to fetch you!

At 10AM I was at the court where I came face to face with my mom - first time since the news broke of me being a rickshaw-walla 4 days ago.
She asked me to explain. I declined (as I believed there was nothing to explain beyond the Navbharat Times news-report.
She persisted with some emotional-atyaachaar (main teri maa hoon, agar mujhe nahin samjhaayega to kise samjhaayega? et al)
I tried to explain. she didn't understand... once...twice. I gave up.
She asked me to explain once more - my motive, my objective, my aspirations.
I tried again. finally some ice was broken, some dark clouds were scattered.
it turned out that she was particularly miffed for two reasons -
1) she didn't know until when this 'experiment' will continue. the report didn't mention that "I hope to end it by November"!
2) the report mentioned "Girls in DU ask me that I don't look like a rickshaw-walla", alluding as if only girls ask me that ...further alluding that I am doing it to score some brownie points with girls ! ;)

The court hearing was over with the usual practice of giving another date and my mom said, "tu ek baar aa to sahi ghar" (which sent chill down my spine). I asked her to explain what she meant. She didn't.

Interestingly, my Dad was quite chilled out all this while, In fact, he hasn't even once asked me what the F*** I was doing and why. While returning from court my mom noticed my cracked heels n lumped feet and said to my dad "look what he has done to his feet" and he said, "so what?" ! hahhaha... that was awesome! I guess I should gift him a bottle of Heinekin ! ;)

Nevertheless, I picked my cycle (whom I missed the most) from the parking of the metro station and went home. I wasn't asked any further question, not locked up in a dark room nor thrashed with a wet chappal ! :P
On the contrary, I was give a sumptuous lunch! for someone who had to borrow money this morning to buy even a Parle G (not exaggerating even an iota), that was pure bliss. The party didn't end there.

I slept for three hours (although I intend to sleep only 30 minutes!) in a cushy bed, with a soft furry blanket and a pillow... yes, a pillow and not my bag stuffed with worn clothes! trust me, a pillow is a luxury. Infact, planning commission would come up with far saner policies based on "Pillow-line" rather than poverty line!

I was home and I was doing what I do best - screw up my time on Facebook! also, read random stuff online and occasionally write a blog. I was back to the world to which I had practically said goodbye for good. In fact, I made some initial investments (which swallowed all my savings) for my new life - a towel (Rs 40), a tooth brush (11), a toothpaste (10), a soap (10), washing powder sachet (2), and a makeup kit (Rs 5 vaseline!). In the coming days, I was planning to buy some Lux Cozis (or even anonymous ones from the roadside vendor) instead of Jockeys and that was cringing my heart (and something else as well!) the most!

I was also preparing myself to bathe with ultra-cold water for the rest of the winters. (although not bathing for most of the season was a partial solution). In fact, I never knew I was such a meticulous planner before these three & a half days. I was making lists, balancing my needs (not wants) with my resources. I was planning ahead...weeks ahead. Although, all the three days I ended up a nillionaire !

Sadly, all that futuristic planning has now gone down the drain. I am back to my home. a place which looks too plush to me now. 3 months back, I would have made a million excuses to dissuade you from visiting it!

So, it was the homecoming of a rickshaw-walla after only 3 & a 1/2 days of 'Vanvaas' (or RainBsera Vaas as my friend puts it)! Should we light some lamps or burn some firecrackers to celebrate? Naah, chuck it. Lets go green! ;)

Being a "Celebrity" - effects & side-effects

the Internet charges are too steep here so I have to write it quickly, So apologies for some not-up-to-the-mark blogpost this time. (As if I was writing literary masterpieces earlier!)

I was in Chandigarh when I received the call from my Mom with the opening words, "Chandigarh main bhi rickshaw chala raha hai?". I couldn't say anything, I was just laughing. But she wasn't amused at all. She followed it up with "Achi bhat piti hai hamari". I dont know how to translate those words but a close-enough meaning is - "you have demeaned us to no extent". I wasn't surprised though; the blast was impending. 

But her call was quite late in the evening, the string of calls started right in the morning. With every call I was faced with the dilemma - to pick or not to pick ... cuz I was in Roaming and my balance was low ! But I guess price of coming out as arrogant was higher that the price of the call, so I picked.

I was back in Delhi the next morning at 6:30 and I was on the job at 7:30. on other days, I would have earned handsomely if I had come that early but alas.... it was Sunday that day!

I was on my way to the garage, barely outside the Metro station, when I noticed a beautiful girl staring at me! If the matter was restricted to just staring, I might not have noticed... I look weird enough to be stared! But she was smiling too; that was startling! So I asked her, "do we know each other?" and she said, "I read the article about you in NBT". She introduced herself and when I introduced myself, she said, "I know"!!!!

Wherever I went - the garage, the metro station,Kamla Nagar, Girls Hostel, Stephens college gate, Gwyer Hall Canteen, Ande-walla ...... the article followed. If nothing else, I realized the readership of NBT yesterday!

But I was in no mood to go home that day, courtesy that candid talk with my mom yesterday. So I was desperately searching for a place to stay. My friend at Model town was out of station and my current garage wasn't as cozy as my previous one, so sleeping under the sky wasn't an option.

I once saw a "Rainbasera" (a place where destitutes can stay at nominal price) in Kamla Nagar but was utterly dissapointed to see a big lock on its gate. But from there I came to know about another one in Malkaganj. The information was right and in Kabir Basti, Malkaganj, I did find one.

Afte spotting my refuge, I was going back to my garage to park my rickshaw when I spotted a little boy walking beside me with a piece of paper. He said, "I am reading about you". I was able to make sense of what he was saying when looked at the paper-cutting with my photo. It was simply an awesome feeling. I asked the boy to sit in my rickshaw and read the story for me since I hadn't seen it myself. He read it for a while and then got off the rickshaw bidding adieu. Wow, if start of the day was bright, then the end of the day was probably brighter than Diwali!

The Experience of spending a night at "Raibasera" is a story in itself so I shall share that with you in a separate post.

but the next morning (ie today) I got a call from my mom again. She asked my location .... exact location (I am not sure if she could track me via GPS!).

"Hindu College"

"you are still pulling the rickshaw!"

"yes mom, that's what I do, I am sure u know it by now"

"why? couldn't you find any other job"

"if you are still not clear why I am doing this after reading that article, I don't know how to answer your why"

"us article se to tune hamara mazak banaya hai" (you have only humiliated us through that article)

I am totally disillusioned now. Facing a dilemma again - to return or not return to a place where people feel humiliated because of me.

Rickshey-waley Dulhaniya le jayenge?

While you might accuse me of Plagiarism because this story appears to be a rip-off straight from Bollywood (who rips off Bollywood stories anyways?), let me assure you that it's neither a rip-off nor a fiction. However, to pay tribute to Mr Yash Chopra, the man who gave us DDLJ, I names it so.

The name of the protagonist of this Love story is Krishna - a 32 year old dark, short but well-built Bengali guy, my colleague and a good friend. Before coming to Delhi in search of employment and end up pulling rickshaw, he used to live in his village in the Kooch Behar district in West Bengal.

The mythological god - Krishna was a Butter-thief (Maakhan chor) in his childhood. But apart from butter, Lord Krishna used to steal one more thing - the tender hearts of gullible, doting 'gopis'. Our hero seems to have taken some inspiration from the 'god' on this front as well (apart from his name and colour!)

Although his village was predominantly Hindu, but just to complicate the matters a bit, the "most beautiful girl" of the village didn't belong to the majority religion. She was a Muslim. Her's was one of the 3 Muslim families in the entire village. Amidst frenzied whistling and hooting, let me introduce you to 'Munni' - our heroine.

Of course, my friend can be biased about her beauty - after all she was his first love - but I am taking his words as the final authority because they were coming straight from his heart.

As he puts it, every unmarried guy in the village was after her openly (and maybe, married guys clandestinely!). Some of them were really handsome while some of them were really rich and few of them both. Yet, out of that crowd of suitors, she fell for my friend!

It took her three years to woo him (so pricey he is!). The first year, it was just the eye-contacts. When he returned from Delhi to his village the next year, things went a step ahead but still on a very 'friendly' level. It was only during the third year when their chemistry intensified and their relationship deepened!

All his friends used to ask him with bewilderment,"what the hell did she find so irresistible in you?" (just like the entire country and especially media, was raising aspersions on Priyanka Gandhi's choice). May be Robert Vadra was aware of his 'salient features' but my friend wasn't. So one day he himself asked her, "tune mujhme aisa kya dekh liya?" (what did u notice in me that appealed to you?) And what she replied is actually an education to all the clueless guys out there.

She said, "I always wanted my man to be a hard-working guy." Now in an urban-setting, the word 'hard-working' may very well be extrapolated to 'passionate'. One who is chasing his big dreams most of the time and not girls all the time. She said, "The way you walk, your 'body language' appeal to me. I don't care much about face or money."

One fine day, when they were enjoying some time together, an old budhiya (yeh, she doesn't deserve any respect to be called anything else) spotted them and broke the news. News of affairs spread faster in a village than the 'Gangnam Style' video went viral on the net and are more devastating than Arvind Kejriwal's exposés. The entire village was in a state of pandemonium. (Are you thinking of playing the legendary item-song from the movie Dabangg? if yes, please go ahead!)

His own family was against his love. His mother said, "I won't let a Muslim girl enter my house."
He replied, "if you won't let her come in this house, why do you eat with them in their house?"
Unfortunately, this simple but jolting reply of my friend didn't cut any ice with his mother.

I am not really sure to what extent did they go to convince their families but I guess, eventually, they both realized that there wasn't any future of their relationship and hence went their separate ways. The wall of religion was simply too high for them to surmount with just love. Eloping, though a very celebrated phenomenon in Hindi movies, is not a very easy thing to do after all.

That was pretty much the end of his love story. Or should I say, end of his first and most colorful love story. Few more girls came in his life; the last one of course his wife and now mother of his two daughters.

(PS: when he went to his village a month back, he met with her! Although she is also 'happily' married now!)

The Secret in Their Eyes

In my previous posts, I have highlighted the level of cut-throat competition that exists at Metro station. It's more like a ‘jungle’ where the fittest and the meanest survives; where no trace of cooperation exists.

But there is a world beyond Metro Station where the same people exhibit the highest of the human qualities without the involvement of any ‘quid pro quo’ (unlike the alleged Vadra-DLF deals).

Let me share with you two such incidences where I was 'flash-flooded' with unilateral generosity. And I wasn't even able to thank them properly.

1) “Carry on”

I was standing in a line at Kirorimal college when two student from FMS (right opposite KMC) came to me and asked how much would I take for Khalsa College? I said 30 rupees which they were reluctant to pay. According to them, 20 rupees should be good. But then a third friend appeared and said he had to go as well. Now suddenly 30 rupees seemed reasonable. They said, “Ok, let’s go.”

No sooner did the third person arrive than I hiked the fare to 35! Now in my heart of hearts, I knew that I have over-quoted. Going by the fare standards that prevail in North Campus and my own experience for over a month now, no student would be willing to pay more than Rs 30 for that distance; notwithstanding how many or how heavy they were!

And I was right. They started nodding their heads in unison and moved on to the next rickshaw-walla. If I was sure that I had over-quoted then I was surer that he would invariably agree for 30.

But, to my and their disbelief, he quoted 40! Usually, when the sawari moves down the line, the fare either remains constant or falls but something weird was happening here. Dejected, the three students returned to me. I was smiling ear to ear but it had a sense of confusion as well.

However, everything dawned upon me in a flash when he winked and raised his head with a slight tilt signalling “carry on” with bright eyes and broadest possible smile!

2) “He will go”

This time around, I was queuing up at Daulat Ram College – on of the two all-girls’ college of North Campus. Here, rickshaws line up on both the sides of the exit gate. But the problem is – they don’t open the entire gate. A mini-gate at one corner is generally used.

Now this gave a clear advantage to rickshaws at one end. It was like the mini-gate had created two zones - Windward side, where all the girls were 'raining' and the leeward side, where the scenario was near-drought. And I unfortunately was standing on the leeward side. Out of 10 girls coming out of the gate, only two would drift this way and that too if ‘lured’ well in advance by calling or gesticulating or both.

While I was eagerly looking at the gate with expectant-eyes, a beautiful tall girl with big eyes (and eyes means eyes here, no euphemism!) emerged out of it. The thought - “I wish I were at that side of the gate” - flashed my mind. The girl asked the first rickshaw-walla in that line, “Metro station?” and he said, “Vo jayega” (He will go), pointing towards me!
I guess he intercepted my thoughts.

While the girl was coming towards me, I was looking at him with bewildered eyes (I should have been looking at the girl!) and asking “why” in my thoughts. I don’t know if he intercepted my cluelessness as well but his eyes didn't disclose the secret.

An Unwritten Pact of Discipline

Over the years, Rickshaw-wallas have earned a bad reputation for themselves, especially at the Delhi University Metro Station. We are seen as a nuisance and unfortunately, they can’t be out-rightly rejected for thinking so.

Call it the charm of Delhi University or the popularity of Metro among the students, the number of the rickshaw-wallas at the Metro station far exceed the number of passengers coming out of it at any given time (except the morning hour 8:30-9:30). Therefore one has to either actively 'hunt' for a sawari or sit idle on his rickshaw. You can see how rules of Economics (Demand & Supply) and Evolution (survival of the fittest) work in tandem here.

To stay ahead of the competition they have a motto - Catch them 'young'! A person, especially a good-looking girl, may find herself flooded with 'offers' from more than a dozen 'suitors' even before she has crossed the automated exit-gates; each going out of his way (and blocking her way in the process) to ‘woo’ her attention and take her to his ‘home’.

They have a patented way of calling. I am going to have a tough time describing it but let me still give it a try.  Oozing with confidence, they walk straight to her with their right hand stretched out as if performing the ‘Hitler Salute’ and their index and the middle finger flickering like the tongue of a King Cobra.

With their powerful ‘eye-scanners’ and ‘cache-memory’ they instantly compile her profile with just one look and start uttering the names of the colleges she might be studying in, while they are walking up to her. This is important too. I have had some painful experiences of losing out a high-paying sawari to a 'competitor' because I said Stephens and he said Miranda!

One girl, one rickshaw-walla; ideal scenario. One girl, two rickshaw-wallas still manageable. But one girl, ten Rickshaw-wallas; it’s a mess. It’s like a Prime time ‘debate’ in which Manish Tiwari, Digvijay Singh, Navjot singh Sidhu, Suhel Seth, Baba Ramdev and ... Arnab Goswami are all hollering together! Poor viewer!

And we must not forget the flickering fingers here. Often they come so close to the face, they can jab the eyes out and sometimes, go 'down the neckline' as well, knowingly or unknowingly. (I must clarify that I haven't been an eye-witness to the latter, however I have heard of such incidences couple of times)

This is a serious matter and I appreciated when the police took cognizance of it. On one such day, when the rickshaw-wallas bugged a girl too much, the police constable reprimanded them. Everybody was on the defensive, saying they didn't do it. Some going to the extent saying that they didn't even go inside the station!

Mob is a very strange thing – It comprises of honest and upright individuals who do anarchic things when together. While anarchy would be a very strong word but we certainly make a bedlam out of the Metro Station. When I asked people why they go inside, their standard reply was, “If you don’t go inside, you won’t get any sawari”.

“What if nobody goes inside?”

“I won’t go but who will convince others? I am here for the past xyz years. This ‘gandgi’ (chaos) has always been here and it always will be. Nothing will change. Nobody will understand.”

“Maybe, if you understand, others will too.”

“Ok. I won’t go inside but would you take a responsibility that others don’t”

“I guess, most of the people here already agree (they didn't  and I would try to convince any new rickshaw-walla coming this way”

And so it all began. An unwritten pact came into existence which said - nobody would lay foot on the floor of the Metro Station (Stairs were the ‘grey area’ though).

The biggest factor pitted against this pact was - there was no Metro Security Guard manning the exit gate that day. So there was no ‘threat’ against going deep inside the station. It was just mutual respect and self-restraint that was holding it together.

It didn't have a flying start either. In the beginning, nobody took it seriously and the moment the metro came, most of the ‘convinced’ guys rushed in. But few stayed out and that was the 'critical mass'.

Giving reference of these people was for more effective in convincing the ‘non-conformists’. Their number fell drastically when the next Metro arrived. The pact was catching up momentum!

"Abbe o, andar kahan ja raha hai @#$%* ? neeche aa ja" (where the hell are you going in, @#$%* ? come down), were the words of a hitherto vehement opposer to a person trying to get in. Now the pact had become self-sustaining. I have noticed that staunch opposers are generally ‘influences’. Once you get them by your side, half of your job is done. They will then convince/coerce others. And that's exactly what happened. It’s a snow-ball effect.

And then the magic happened – nobody went inside! Standing on the last step, just off the floor of the station, they were doing their ‘pick-up routines’. It was a very exhilarating and satisfying moment!

I must confess that there were occasions when a new entrant, unaware of the pact, simply walked in, enticing others to follow but there were occasions as well when they called (along with expletives!) that guy back. 

This pact was signed at around 11 AM and it remained in effect till 4 PM (beyond which I couldn't skip the lunch). During this time I couldn't earn anything.

Metro Relief Camp

The EXIT GATE of Delhi University Metro station appears to me like a RELIEF CAMP.

The people coming out of it are like "food packets" on which the rickshaw-wallas hog like desperate hungry refugees, shoving & pushing each other to be the first one to grab; trading their self-respect for survival. 

And those idiots (like me) who don't, starve to death waiting for the packet to fall in their lap or flee to less green and more hostile pastures !