This life is one life and this world is one world. But yet we are all so different. Each car is driven like any other, but yet it’s so different. What difference should a Lamborghini make to a Nano? Same diesel or petrol, same set of driving skills required and same set of precautions. You look at the former and gawk in awe inspiring expression whereas, the former elicit any form of response on the basis of what suburb you belong to. Some of my posh south Mumbai friends just booked Nano for kicks. Who am I to dissuade them? Who am I to tell them not to pollute the already infested environment or not to clog the illusionary augmented roads? I won’t even cite any one global warming. Firstly, it is mass product mass cause. The way world peace is. Global warming is just another cause for fashionistas to babble about something in their red carpet moment or pseudo intellectuals, like me, to writer or scream about in their free time. I will not and I cannot. What difference does it make to the world of air conditions what temperature is our environment outside?
In my suburban neighbourhood, Mr. Dixit also bought a Nano. He did it with pride gleaming in his eyes and thunder oozing out of his voice. He told every one, whoever could lend an ear, that at 5 he wished to own a fiat. His father was of modest means and as a bank clerk he could not fulfill this desire till his retirement. His father now has gone back to Satara where he is living off his days on daily poojas and doing what old people does best. See the weather around, wonder about the world, go to the temple and reminisce the younger days before their final call is made. His father shall make this one trip to the city to see his son’s proud ownership of a simple and sweet car. Mrs. Dixit donned the most precious sari of hers from the closet along with the same jewellery she wears for any important function. I have, in all these years of my growing up, seen her wear the same jewellery in every marriage party. Not that am a whimsical snob who would sneer at petulant things such as gold jewellery but, I just observed how she never made a big fuss about it to her husband. She was content and so was her husband. They all were happy the day when their Nano had come. Except their 12 year old boy who they have sent to the city’s best school. He has seen much bigger and better cars with drivers chauffeuring his friends all around the place. In fact, he snapped back in infuriation when his mom proposed him to be dropped off in the new car to his school instead of taking school bus. He said he would miss all his friends so much if he were to go in the car. His parents, chose to, believe the reason for his insisting not to take Nano to school premises. Mrs. Dixit giggled in our direction and just remarked that he gets too attached to people pretty quickly. The old boy, I must say, is very smart. He tackled the situation with concealed shame and tactful diplomacy.
The other neighborhood aunties did not just stop at congratulating Mrs. Dixit about the new car but, also remarked, in the tone of impishness and sarcasm, that their husband would learn a thing or two from Mr. Dixit and can buy them at least a Maruti 800 next time. Maruti 800! It is no more in the market; I spoke with an air of superior knowledge. They all turned towards the direction of where I stood and expressed shock and disbelief. They could not, from their facial expressions, come to terms with the demise of the once ‘apple of an eye car’ that taught the entire country how to drive. Yeah, it is no more. I felt too hot standing under the roof and thought fresh air would do me good. I faintly excused myself and made a quiet and yet attentive exit.
How things have changed? How much things could really change. Today having one AC is not a luxury until you have one fixed in the children’s room. Your walls must have a paint of a celebrity endorsed product. If tired, you cannot be just content with a street side Gane ka juice [sugarcane juice] or Nimbu Pani [lemon water], you will have to order ‘thanda matlab? Coca Cola’. Or may be Pepsi. Youngistan Ka wow. [ the latter jingle an ad world specimen. You really need hell lot of creativity to think that this was it!]
In bathroom I face reluctantly the dilemma of using the good old Lifeboy or Dove. Urban dictate is to go for dove which gives you the moisturisation of a milk and cream. Lifeboy merely kill germs and does nothing for my beauty. Yeah right, first soaps, then moisturizers and then comes the dilemma of choosing the right cosmetics with the right kind of branded clothing and branded chappals. Chappals branded?
Things have changed, I guess so. I go near the station and see throngs of beggars with their plate and a statue of any favourite god out. For many years, since the time I have been frequenting the station, I have seen only one kind of goddess and only one sort of statue. I wonder why this hasn’t changed so much. What has changed is the demeanor of these street beggars. They have all started looking much more sophisticated and their trick of trade a little bit more polished. I can see and make the difference who are genuine and who are not.
Where do I figure myself in between? I do nothing; I merely plug in the iPod and listen to my songs while I go towards the platform. In the background the music is going on. It’s the song by Gary Jules:
All around me are familiar faces,
Worn out places, worn out faces,
Bright and early for their daily races,
Going nowhere, going nowehere…………….
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