Behind the facade of Gurgaon’s glitterati of IT parks, Malls, SEZs lies a sub-city of harsh realities and relentless struggle for the majority of migrant workers and contract labours. An often ignored fact is the appalling state of public transport in and around the Gurgaon region and an undercover response to mitigate the situation by call centre cab services. That there is a dire need to improve the public transport situation and that too urgently has been a known imperative for the past several years now. The Delhi government’s metro project between Delhi and Gurgaon will certainly assuage some of the inconveniences the “common man” is grappling with daily. However a general feeling of far-too-less and far-in-between has sown it seeds amongst the collective consciousness of the masses. Considering the number of vehicles on the road and an oceanic change in the lifestyles of Delhi middle class over past few year are the key factors why people believe it will be really hard for Mr. Blue collar to come out of their comfort zones and be on the queues for metros.
The other day when I was travelling in one of those infamous call-centre cabs masquerading as public transport, I got an opportunity to speak to a couple of co-passengers. The talk started generally but gathered pace very briskly. We started talking about the local governments, people, the rich-poor divide, elections, religion, sport, you name it. And I asked myself, is this powerless, uneducated urban flab which is derided by media, sabotaged by politicians, sub-humanised by the elite? What keeps them motivated? What gets them going every day? “Just keep going. Don’t lose faith in you. If you truly want it, it could be delayed but not denied” said one of them while I was getting impatient at the bus stop. That’s when I realise, the higher you climb up in the society, the weaker you get, insecurity shrouds your life from everywhere and you begin asking the questions for which you or nobody you know has answers. What you do when you see that you have reached the end of the road and this was not suppose to be your destination?
You step out of your mould and you meet people.
You meet all sorts of people; you find comfort in their small stories. You find how redeeming your life can be when you crack that mysterious code. When a small time farmer tells you the story of his 5 children and how they lost all hope of survival and stretched their life to the extreme for that proverbial “Do vaqt ki roti” and still come out alive and kicking, you know you have been just touched by life. Why that is the economy of resources so overpowers and wins-over almost every other negative energy in people’s lives. The same thought keeps coming back to me in so many different morphs that I have made it a mantra of my own life. Be minimalistic. Work with minimum.
The other day I was travelling to the mountains to recharge my batteries. I had pledged that I will remember every person that I speak to so that when I am back I will develop a character sketch of every single one of them. I met a few people. Some very remarkable people. Truly in control of their lives. Not shy of admitting their follies. Not carried away by the sight of money. Highly grateful. Not afraid of taking measured risks. Friendly with animals. Nature lovers. Not a single one of them had college education, yet they were really educated. You bet. They could look into your eyes and see through your soul and take out that emotion tucked away in some lost corner. You suddenly feel unburdened. The people I am talking about have to go through hardships you and I can barely imagine us into. How do they find such energies? This is what I sensed in their spirits. The spirit of human survival.
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