(11 Oct 09)
My fisherwoman, kolin, Shaku, goes on a vacation every
two or three years. She’s been to places I’ve only dreamt of: Kanyakumari, and
the Wagah border. A hundred and fifty odd people from her community book a
train bogey, some dharamsalas to live in and just go. They eat cheap, if the
place is cold, customers like me donate warm clothes, they don’t click
photographs, and come back more educated than before. The entire cost is some
two thousand bucks for three weeks. I don’t know how they manage their
finances. Her perspective of Patni Top was so different from anything I’ve
heard from a military person posted there. She saw the greenery, yes, she also
saw vegetables on carts, children ‘from homes’ not going to school: according
to her, in Mumbai, only children who lived on streets didn’t go to school. And,
of course, she tells me about the local fish they saw.
One of my colleagues,
an ex-telephone operator who has got promoted to supervisor, goes north every
December for fifteen days. He has a group of friends who slog through the year
and save for this annual ‘treat’. The itinerary doesn’t change much. They go to
Vaishnav Devi in that bitter cold, then to the Golden Temple (my Shaku thought
that was one Very Impressive Place because it was clean and hospitable), then
the Wagah border (seems to be a popular tourist attraction), and then to either
Manali or Dharamsala or Mathura and back home. He gets so charged up at Diwali
that we have to force him to work. To his simple mind, Wagah is the entry point
to India, protected by the two guys in fancy uniforms posted there. He
sincerely believes that they guard us from the enemy. They are his heroes.
Interestingly, he and his friends make friends with those jawans, take their
addresses and subsequently send them letters even after they’ve got posted out.
Through them, they’ve learnt more about the country than any text book or news
channel could teach. Listening to him describe the lowering and raising of the
flag is a treat: he tells us how our jawan scares his counterpart with the vigourous
marching movements and how he doesn’t take his eyes off the Paki guy and how he
isn’t a bit afraid of him, etc. At the end of the story, he describes what he
feels in his chest: proud to be an Indian.
Some of the lower staff
I know spend their entire earned leave doing voluntary work. They’re not quite
literate themselves, but like to teach what they know to those even less
privileged. They don’t realize it, but they are contributing to the country’s
progress. What we need is good leadership.
The railways and the
Bollywood films have done more to bind the country together than any other
entities. They also serve who don’t wear a uniform or the khadi white cap or
wave the tricolour.
At the other end of the
spectrum, we have a group of doctors, super-specialists all, who take valuable
time off to do work in places like Gadchiroli and Rishikesh. It’s hard work,
last time they saw some seven hundred patients over a weekend. They even do
surgeries. For no glory, no extra income, no nothing. Just their bit for their
country. And this tribe is growing.
I was talking to a
retired pathologist about her involvement with the Teach India Movement. She
went out of curiosity, but now thinks beyond just that project. She’s met
several others who are doing different things and feels more can be done.
Unfortunately (ah, the cynical me) those who aren’t doing anything or worse,
actually doing wrong, are on the increase and these few are always going to
remain a minority.
What has pleased me is
that one or two newspapers have got into the fray to do ‘good’ work. Perhaps
this will increase and more ‘powerful’ people will get involved. I don’t
believe in my lifetime India will have greener cities, more forest wealth, or
potable water everywhere. I don’t believe I will ever see a tidy, clean country
or one devoid of corruption. But what pleases me is that others like me, same
age group, same socio-economic bracket, have jumped into the fray to do
something. So there’s still hope.
My pet peeves:
destruction of flora and fauna and non-tackling of garbage remain lesser
touched areas. The green people are visible, though not as much as one would
like, but the garbage-area is still out of bounds. Will keep track about
both. @@@@@
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