The Filthy Rich

The incident really set me thinking. Our office bus had only just left the ITPL campus when it met with a freak accident. While pulling onto the main road, the driver took the corner a little too sharp and broke the rear view mirror of a minibus which was also pulling onto the road from the left side. Both the vehicles pulled over and a verbal duel with the usual quota of expletives and exclamations ensued. But while at least a few of the occupants of the minibus got down and backed their driver, none of us bothered to so much as get up. Shamefully, our driver was outnumbered and he had to shell out a few hundred rupees too to pay for the damages. Dejected, he got back into the bus and as he did so remarked, "ಒಬ್ಬರಿಗೂ ಮಾತಾಡಕ್ ಆಗಲ್ವಾ? ಸುಮ್ಮನೆ ಬಸಲ್ಲಿ ಬಂದು ಹೋದ್ರೆ ಸಾಕಗಲ್ಲ!" (Not one of you could speak up? Its not just enough if you travel in a bus)

He had a point. The occupants of the minibus were mainly daily wage labourers. They did care about the person driving them home and at least bothered to step out, be it out of curiosity or to just morally support their driver in abusing the 'perpetrator'. But on the other hand, none of us did. We just sat in the bus talking over the cell phone or listening to music, all the while aware our driver outside was facing the music all by himself himself. And that includes me. What a shame! Besides, the few hundred rupees that our driver had to shell out would definitely have been a sizable part of his salary, compared to all of us who drew 6 figure salaries. And as I sat contemplating over what appeared to be a callous attitude on our part, there were several questions that I could not quite find the answers to..


Do the well to do consider it denigrating or to put it simply, below their dignity, to deal with a prole? Take this instance itself. I mean, why the hesitation to get down from the bus and exchange words to resolve the situation? The bus driver had after all taken up the responsibility of taking us home safely. So its nothing but humanitarian to have a sense of compassion towards him in return. An argument on the lines of '.. its his duty and that is what he's being paid to do.. " is nothing short of apathetic. As to if our driver was responsible for the accident is another question altogether. We just had to be by his side when he needed it.

Is the well healed section of society but a bunch of hypocritical opportunists? Seems like a bold and unwarranted comment. But its my observation. If the city were to be flooded or a catastrophe were to strike the city any day, then take note of this. While the IT professionals and business executives only bother to drive home safe and sound as soon as possible, the aam aadmi actually tries to help his fellow citizens get home safe. Good Samaritans somehow always seem to hail from the middle class. But then you could say that the rich and the filthy rich give back to the society in a different style. In Warren Buffet style maybe. I tell you, when a blast rips through your city, a million dollars is the last thing you'd want. Humanity is what one needs then. And its compassion and consideration for fellow denizens what is needed on a day to day basis. The well to do section of the society somehow is under the misconception that signing off a lakh rupees once a year should be enough to write off anything that they owe to the society. Disappointing indeed.

And that brings me to the next point. Rules are for them to follow!? Don't the well to do think that money gives them power and politico-legal immunity? They almost think its their right to jump queues at the bank and signal lights at the intersection. Its bad enough to see someone litter the pavement before your eyes. What is even worse is when an educated someone, wearing a Alan Paine or a Levis does it. For all those lakhs spent on education, if one still lacks some basic civic sense, what can we expect from the rest? It is like he feel the grime of the city is for the proletarians to writhe in and he has nothing whatsoever to do with.


I'm don't want to generalize and equate the affluent to the arrogant. But its been the thumb rule. Its just that economic advancements inevitably bring a lot changes in one's demeanour and one's outlook towards towards the society and issues pertaining to it. Being civic is to realize this simple truth and swallow ones ego. Easier said than done. Unless you see yourself ending up in a Phone Booth like Stu Shepard for the contempt with which you treat the rest of the world, you and I are not bound to change anytime soon.

Rebirth

Today was not just another day. Sitting in her office on the 4th floor of the RMZ Infinity building in the EPIP area of Bangalore she leaned back in her swivel chair and stretched. The clock on the bottom right corner of her screen said it was still just 3:40pm. A gentle smile crossed Vasundhra's face. However hard she tried, she'd never her finish her work early. Not today. But finishing work early in office was not what made Vasundhra's day special. Manu had turned six today!

Her little angel Manu - how they loved her. Her birth marked the turning point of her and Shekhar's life. Their lives had changed for the good ever since. Manu was now their sole purpose. In fact, Vasundhara had spent the whole of last weekend trying to find a gift for Manu. A perfect birthday gift that would delight her daughter on the occasion of her 6th birthday. As was the family custom, only the first five birthdays were celebrated ceremoniously. So she had been very careful while choosing a gift. After spending the whole day in Jayanagar's 4th block area, she finally managed to find it...the perfect gift! It was a beauteous red frock with yellow flowers sprinkled all over. The bottom was a brilliant verdant green studded with birds, rabbits and snails running around in gay abandon. The moment she has caught sight of the dress, the mother in her knew that the search had ended. The Rs.799/- tag had not deterred her, for there was nothing more precious to her than her Manu.

Manu was a precocious child. Unlike other kids of her age, let alone demand, she didn't even expect any gifts from her parents. She knew she would be turning six and so unlike the previous five birthdays, this time there would be no ceremony. Not that she could recall any of those, but she was now mature enough to realize it. So on the morning of her birthday, she was overjoyed when amma presented her with a gorgeous red frock. The animals and flowers instantly reminded her of the summers she spent with her cousins out in the country in Kollur. She could not wait to wear it. Had it been some other day, Vasundhara would have rebuked her with a firm "No". But today, there was nothing more that she wanted than to see Manu happy. So after packing her lunch-box, helping her wear her shoes and dabbing on some fragrant talcum powder, she kissed her a gentle goodbye on the forehead and watched as Manu stormed out through the front door, eager to show all her friends her new frock. There are some moments that make being a mother so gratifying that all the pains and troubles are worth this one moment. She wiped the tear from the corner of her eye with the pallu of her saree as she turned back to the kitchen.


Stepping out onto the street below, she made a beeline for the bus-stop. It was early March and the heat was oppressive. The rains had not yet showered their blessings on Bengaluru. She boarded a 335E and made herself comfortable by the window of the second seat on the left, behind the driver. This was one of the rewards of getting out early. The buses were almost empty and the traffic sparse, by Bengaluru standards that is. She began to ponder over how she could surprise Manu. Everyday, Manu came back from school at 5:30 and religiously settled down on the sofa to watch Tom and Jerry on Cartoon Network or Takeshi's Castle on Pogo. That was one thing she was very finicky about. Anything else she could compromise. And if you gave her a packet of potato chips, and she would as grateful as a bear being fed a potful of honey. Vasundhara was shaken back to reality from her reverie when the bus pulled into platform 17 in Majestic. It had taken her only an hour and her wrist watched now told it was 4:03pm. The golden plated watch had been a anniversary gift from Shekhar. Without wasting time she headed to one of the shops adjacent to platform 1 and bought a packet of MTR Instant Gulam Jamun Mix. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she got out of the bus-stand and flagged an autorickshaw and half asked the driver "Rajajinagar 6th blocku!?". She got a nonchalant nod lacking even the slightest hint of courtesy.

As the auto finally swerved around the last bend, she looked up from her cellphone. She was mildly surprised to find a crowd of twenty odd men huddled together, blocking the traffic. Apparently there had been some incident and people were milling in to have their cut of the action. Not wanting to waste time waiting for the traffic to clear, she asked the driver to pull over. She paid the auto driver the fare and stepped down onto the pavement. It was not uncommon to see such huddles, but it was not common either. It usually involved a freak accident involving two short tempered commuters, each one trying to blame the other in an attempt to bilk. Unable to contain her curiosity Vasundhara told herself that a little peek would do no harm. After all, she still had an hour to spare and preparing gulab jamun would not take more than 45minutes. Keeping her reservations, she tried to see what best that she could.

The moments that followed were pure unadulterated panic and sheer terror. A chill ran down her spine raising the hair on the back of her neck. Her legs gave away and she collapsed right onto the road. Her mind went blank and her throat went dry. Her heart throbbed. The pain in her chest was searing. Her tongue tasted bitterness. She had managed to catch a glimpse of the body lying on the road, now soaked in crimson blood, its head mangled beyond recognition. But the red frock and the yellow flowers could not have been mistaken for anything else. A placid, almost memorable evening had unforgivably transformed into a incubus. Vasundhra had lost all her senses. She was lying limply on the road contrite, her cellphone lying on one side and her velvet bag on the other. It was almost as if rigor mortis had set in. She had no sense of time or space. Few people bothered to notice her. Their minds fed by innumerous vapid Kannada movies, they found the grisly sight more captivating.
The delicate bubble that she and Shekhar had nurtured all these years had burst in an instant without a trace. The agony overshadowed the pain of labour. Regaining her sense, Vasundhara turned away from the unsightly scene in a desperate attempt to farther herself from the truth - to find a puzzled yet thoroughly amused Manu standing before her, her velvet vanity bag slung over one shoulder almost reaching down to the road, absorbed in a game of Snake on her cellphone.

There are some moments that make being a mother so gratifying that all the pains and troubles are worth this one moment.

iPhone(y)

What do you call a bunch of guys who spend the night of 21st August 2008 at a consumer electronics outlet trying to get their hands on a 3G 'smart' device for over INR 31,000 that does not let you so much as

• Forward a text message
• Single button speed dial
• Copy-paste a line of text
• Send an SMS to multiple recipients
• Listen to FM Radio
• Record video
• Send MMS
• Set an mp3 track as your ringtone
• Share files over bluetooth
• Support Java or Flash
  
• Support voice dialing
• Change your cell phone operator
• Use it as a wireless modem (when you are shelling out by the thousands every month)
  

I don't care what you call them. But I call them JERKS.

For all the hype and hoopla surrounding it, the apple iPhone is nothing short of a white elephant. Over priced and over hyped, its just not what the Indian market wants. If you're gonna tell me to look at the initial sales figures that should be out in a weeks time, let me tell you. All the initial sales that it is raking in are from the media hype and the popularity of it being an Apple phone. If one were to consider the functionality keeping value for money in prespective, a Nokia 1200 would fare much much better. Its reported that over 2 lakh consumers have registered for the iPhone already. But what they don't tell you was the figures are from the registrations that began way before the prices were announced.


Imagine having to turn to i-tunes for even trivial things like a petty currency converter. Isn't that just outrageous, when there are thousands of wonderful free java applications out there? What is even worse is you cannot connect to iTunes through your iPhone. You need a mac or a PC to do that. God! Thanks to Google, iPhone now has atleast has an IM client. And in the worst case, (if were still using it for the sole reason of having spent a fortune on it) if you had to change the battery after a year, you can't just do it by yourself. Yet again, get down on your knees and ask Apple to do it for you. And if you are still convinced that you want to get one, go surrender yourself into servility. God help you.

So Ms. Swathi, in case you're thinking that you've just made an achievement of a lifetime by buying the first iPhone, well... I'm sorry. I think you're just a nitwit.

Getting ripped off has never been this easy*...


PS: There can be no better personification of the saying ಜನ ಮರುಳೋ ಜಾತ್ರೆ ಮರುಳೋ

*Conditions Apply

Flower Show at Lalbagh

Here is glimpse of Lalbagh's ravishing annual flower show, held around the days of I-day. Vibrant and vivid, I say there are more colours here than what even the human eye can percieve.





You can view individual pictures of the collage, just by clicking on them above. Isn't that just brilliant!? You can mouse over the glogster.com logo on the right hand top corner to view the embed in full size.