A
co-passenger on the Mandovi Express told me why last week the same train had
been delayed. A woman’s foot slipped in the toilet, into the hole it went, and
because her calf was muscular and big, got stuck in a yucky place above the
tracks. The rest of her was still in the toilet-cubicle. She yelled, no one
heard. Finding her long absence unusual, her husband went in search of her,
heard her cries for help, fetched the train superintendent and halted the train.
They couldn’t open the door easily, but when they did, they still couldn’t get
her (leg) out. So they detached the compartment, the other passengers from it
adjusted themselves wherever they could find seats and the rest of the train
went on its way. The train reached its destination three hours late. It made
history. Not because it was three hours late, but because of the unusual
accident it had to deal with. BTW, the woman was uninjured, separated from her
‘metallic ordeal’ by a welder/cutter.
(The
co-passenger’s son was from Switzerland. He showed off: there if a
train/bus/plane was three hours late, it would make headlines in big, bold
fonts in size 70. We comforted him: ‘there must be other stuff that happens
there, no? Otherwise your newspapers could buy exciting news from us, about
catching people stashing black money in banks.’)
Thing
is, we expect our trains to be late-arrivals, even without unusual incidents.
Even when they start on time, we are certain they will not reach their
destination on time, unless they are Shatabdis/Rajdhanis. Flights are
weather-dependent, true, but quite often, unsuspecting, unquestioning
passengers fall for the ‘technical snag’ excuse. If there are frequent such
snags in a particular airline, I’d be wary of the safety of those planes. As
for buses, poor things, traffic conditions are more unreliable to predict than
storms/earthquakes.
Unpunctuality
comes in many forms. My newspaper vendor told me that almost no one pays him on
time. When he visits his customers in the afternoons, the only time he’s free, to
collect the money owed to him, he’s told: “Why have you come when we’re having
lunch/sleeping? Come tomorrow.” He isn’t the only one to be paid late. A small
businessman who rents crockery told me an office-party organizer forced him to
make multiple trips to collect his dues. Grocers, mechanics, doctors, builders
and freelance writers have the same complaints. Even when cheques are ready,
you have to wait. Maybe the person concerned isn’t in his/her chair, maybe the
cheque isn’t signed, maybe something or the other.
Our ancestors
invented the muhoort, which meant they understood the concept of promptness.
Along the centuries, we lost that discipline. Blame must lie with the
British/Portuguese who eroded our culture, no? Stranger still, they took that
bit of our ‘parampara’ with them, leaving us bereft of it. Perhaps NaMo
and his team can have muhoorts for clearing licences, delivering judgements in
court, penalizing rule-breakers, etc. He must know that, unlike in a clean-up
exercise, a Punctual Bharat campaign can’t be kick-started by levying a 0.5%
cess. But then, in Parliament, even making laws on time is so difficult.
Actually,
we were happy with our disorderliness regarding time until the mobile phone came
to India. No longer can we lie and say ‘line is dead’ or ‘couldn’t get
through’. Not as easily as in bygone days, my generation knows that. Ah,
nostalgia. There’s another disadvantage to these phones: parents now know
exactly where their children are and can deduce what they’re up to. Privacy
lost, paradise lost, what with every minute being accounted for. Worst of all,
the cellular revolution has changed our habits and speech. The other day I went
to someone’s house and the host/ess promised to make tea in ‘one second’. Even
with the most efficient micro-wave-fuelled gadget I wondered how that was
possible. Realized too late that it was the usual lie of doing something ‘phataphat’.
We say we can do everything ‘phataphat’
except when it comes to winning sports medals. The mobile-phone might
have changed our ‘parampara’ forever, but it’s going to be hard to get rid of it
(the phone, not the ‘parampara’).
Those
who do believe in punctuality, silly people like that still exist, must change
their attitudes in hurry. Shri Husband hasn’t still learnt his lesson, follows
the time on the invitation card to attend functions. If it says 8:30 pm for
dinner, he’s at the venue, dressed and hungry, a minute before. Other guests
trickle in an hour later, smug smiles on their faces. The Indian Army says it’s
proactive and prompt; so unpatriotic, no, to display such an unnational trait?
After the OROP debacle, it should give the enemy/child fallen into well/flood
victim a couple of hours lead time before it (the Army, not the enemy, etc)
makes up its mind.
Those
of us who are standing by our PM, waiting for the Acchey Din to arrive, believe
that deadlines are sacrosanct, that bullet trains might bring about change,
that sooner, rather than later, Punctual Bharat might happen. Whether or not
Swatccha Bharat will, is anyone’s guess.
Feedback: sheelajaywant@yahoo.co.in
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