I left the office at 7:15 pm. By the time I had walked for 20 minutes and reached the bus stop, it had started raining. As I waited for the bus the rain intensified, and soon it was raining cell-phones and mp3 players (I think that the cliché “It’s raining cats and dogs” has worn out due to excessive use. And nowadays, there are sadly very few people who care about cats and dogs as much as they care about personal electronics. So, keeping in pace with the times, I invented this new modern cliché for the new modern world.)
The bus stop was now crowded with people taking shelter from the showers. We were all waiting for some bus to come along, invite us into its warm insides and end our wet agony. After a few minutes, we spied a bus wade its way towards us through the thick of the rains. Like others, I closed my umbrella and waited impatiently to board the bus. But the bus never stopped. It simply splattered us with muddy water and rushed off – leaving us looking at it’s red-lighted behind and getting drenched in the rains.
This kept happening again and again. Every 15-20 minutes a bus would approach the bus stop, but most of them never stopped. And the ones that did stop were too full of passengers to be able to accommodate any new ones.
By now I was royally pissed off.
I know some people who advocate positive-thinking, smiling-always and counting-your-blessings and stuff like that. But I don’t always agree with them.
I know that I am a sarcastic pessimist who loves cribbing and who does need a lesson in positive thinking.
But my dear reader, for once, when you manage to sneak out of the office on time (after hiding from your boss, lying to your team leader, and flatly denying your tech-lead’s request to attend the client meeting), and expecting to reach home early, you rush to the bus-stop, just to have the rains drench you and the bus-drivers deny you your birth-right to broad the bus – and yet, if someone expects you to smile and count your blessings, then that someone is either stark raving mad or an over-optimistic masochist.
So, I was in a really dark mood. And when one of my friends called, our conversation took a decidedly nasty turn. This is a gist of what we talked:
“Did you hear about the two Delhi metro accidents?”
As usual I had not. So he told me in brief about it. And then said, “Two accidents within a span of 24 hours! Isn’t it shameful for a country like us?”
I started my pessimistic sarcastic onslaught. “If you think it is so shameful, what do you suggest should be done?”
Friend: “There should be better procedures in place – better this and better that and the government should do this and that and blah blah blah…”
I cut him short and asked – “Yes, you are probably right, but how will it solve the problem?” Friend: “Ok, let me see… As I know you well, I think you will agree with my next solution – which is – Not to build the Metro further?”
I: “No, that’s not a solution.”
Friend (annoyed): “So what according to your holiness, must be done to make ours a better place to live?”
I: “Find the root-cause first. So tell me, what is the root cause?”
After giving him many clues, and after much debate, I convinced him that the root cause for most of our troubles and for the Delhi metro accidents is an excess of population
I: “If we did not have so much population, especially concentrated in the cities, then there was no need for a metro in the first place. I mean look at this bus stop where I am standing. A bus just passed by and its crammed full of people – like animals or insects. And I have been waiting here for hours to catch a bus. This will simply get worse day by day. Do you think any amount of Infrastructure development can solve our problems, while the population keeps exploding? We live and breed like cockroaches.”
Friend (sarcastically): “So how do you suggest we solve the population problem? Kill a few thousands for a change?”
I: “Of course not. That would be Inhuman. But we can control it.”
Friend: “How can you forcefully stop people from breeding?”
Without thinking, I blurted out: “How about - by forcefully executing birth-control procedures on fertile males – like ‘nas-bandi’”
Friend: “Boss, that’s inhuman too. Every person has a right to become a father. Besides, you can’t force people into birth-control procedures”
I: “Ofcourse you can. Indira Gandhi did.”
Friend: “Neither you, nor I have enough knowledge about our history to make such comments” (And he was very right about that)
Friend: “But really, your arguments are outrageous. You sound like a Communist – you know – like Chinese.”
I: “Don’t worry; we will soon overtake China in Population count.”
Friend: “Boss, I am fully confident that India will one day OWN China. Yeh hai India, meri jaan. Don’t under-estimate our country.”
I: “I don’t under-estimate our country. Neither do I OVER-estimate our country-men. Infact I will not be surprised if one of our business-minded countrymen will sell our country TO China for money. Yeh hai India, meri jaan”
We argued this way for a while – my pissed-of mood fueling me into making more outrageous and pathetically inhuman conclusions like the above.
After a while, having had enough arguments and some funny repartees, we ended our chat.
It kept raining incessantly. And I was really feeling miserable.
Then, a bus came. And it was full to the brim. It showed every sign of NOT stopping and just passing by like the others.
But the bus did stop. I ran hopefully to get into it. But it was too crammed full of people, and there was no space for me to even hang at the door.
Then my attention was drawn to the front door of the bus. It is a rule that commuters should get in by the back door of the bus and get out by the front. Generally, commuters aren’t allowed to board the bus from the front door. The drivers usually enforce this rule. Exceptions are sometimes made only in case of ladies, handicapped and the aged. I saw an old lady climb up through the front door. And then I understood the reason why the driver stopped the bus - to allow the poor old lady to board the bus.
Now I was wet, miserable, and desperate to get home asap. I did not think twice before rushing ahead and climbing up right behind the old lady. The Driver stopped me and said – “Shhh, shhhh… O bhai… I only stopped for the lady. Only ladies allowed from the front. Go back.”
I have seen many a driver force people to get down if they are trying to get in through the front door. Some are very strict about it. I was about to turn back when the driver made a gesture with his hand that said – “Ok, you may get in.”
There was no smile – no kind words – just that little indifferent yet kind gesture. Considering the build up of foul mood within me, this sudden act of kindness was much unexpected. That small but kind gesture was like cool water that doused the flames of fury and frustration within me.
I got in.
Commuters crowding near the front made space for me to stand.
Already a young fellow was getting up to make place for the old lady to sit.
The conductor was at the back, and there was no way for me to approach him and ask for a ticket. I handed my money to my neighbour who passed it on to his neighbour and so on till it reached the conductor. The conductor sent back the ticket and the change towards me the same way.
All these little acts of kindness are an every day occurrence within our metropolitan public transport, that go unnoticed because of them being so common-place. But I noticed them today when I looked at them from a fresh new point of view.
And then I was really ashamed of the conversation I had had with my friend.For, it is true, that we city-dwellers live a rough life - like insects and wild animals – rushing to and from offices in crammed public transport, living in crammed expensive places, eating stale food, breathing polluted air, thinking foul thoughts and doing unworthy deeds. But amidst all this chaos and madness, it is such little acts of kindness – done by strangers to fellow strangers - that still keep us human. It is because of this modicum of humanity still left within us that make us survive each day while living on the edge of impending doom and disasters waiting to happen. It is this that makes us Indians – or more broadly speaking – us humans – tick.
