Amid the ennui of the day, I made a choice to pass the evening in the British Council, New Delhi. In other words, I resorted to a bit of wandering around in lieu of the sight of the four walls of the room. And as it goes, I reached the abode of commuters in the city, the DMRC (Delhi Metro Railway Corporation) at GTB Nagar.
Many a time, I come across some really funny and attractive oxymoron. One such oxymoron which flashed in my mind at that moment was ‘Small Crowd’. In fact, the redundant crowd at the station was an admonitory of the crowd in the metro. To add fuel to the fire, it was the evening peak hours somewhere around 5-6pm.
But something seemed weird that day. I felt the contentious issue of Anna Hazare’s fast for the JAN LOKPAL BILL at Ramlila Maidan created a rife among the rank and file. I read in black and white about the mass support this movement has witnessed. But there I was, to witness the practical portrayal of the words in paper.
The copious number of commuters on that day had already created a boisterous atmosphere in the platforms. Echoes of ‘Anna Ji ki jai’ and ‘Anna tum sangharsh karo,hum tumhare saath hain’could be heard in every nook and corner of the platform. It seemed everyone was in a hurry to reach New Delhi Metro station, unlike me. Indeed,Anna Hazare proved to an impetus for the fresh blood. While being drowned in these thoughts I had a sight of the approaching metro. The next pivotal thing for me was to occupy a seat for myself amidst the trenchant crowd. Being unsuccessful in the quest for a seat, the other substitute for me was to have a standing journey till Rajiv Chowk. And then the metro geared up speed.
Now, palavers of all sorts in the metro are a common scenario among the commuters. Unknown to each other, many of them started chaffering the coetaneous issue of fasting of their heroAnna Hazare. At the first instance, the loquacious folks nearly put me in a state of dysphoria. But with the passage 2-3 more stations i wanted to give an ear to their words. One among them, who put on raddled attire, said to recall the day when he had to go from door to door of the big guns in search of employment. Thereby, he was given the job after filling pockets of the plutocrats. He strained his nerve all way to Delhi somewhere from the backyards of Bihar. Wrenched in his yore pain of corruption, he did not want the GEN-X to be caught in the flagitious circle of the big sheep. That’s the least I could make out from his typical Hindi accent.
A few steps ahead I had caught descry of another group of folk. This bunch of commuters had a different story to tell. Two of them are dead against the hue and cry raised by the moment. The vendetta took a fierce turn with the philanthropist of each side presenting a synopsis of the matter. One stated that the enactment of the law would impede the constitutional provisions. The other put forward it will be for the betterment of the citizens. Later, a docile gentlemen questioned the discussing panel-“What if Anna and his colleagues themselves are corrupt?” Everyone went mumchance. That was indeed a sockdolager.
The debate continued further. No longer can I withstand the heated conversations between those unheard scholars. But the least I can say is that being caught in the vicious circle of poverty and drowned with corruption, they had an inextinguishable aplomb to efface out corruption. While others were busy with their respective spheres of life and turned a deaf ear to the matter.
The arrival of the destination terminal, Rajiv Chowk, acted as an emollient agent to the debate. And also an end to my journey. I can neither recall the faces nor the names of any of those persons. What linger in my mind are their words. And this is a synopsis of those few heard and unheard words in black and white.
