Hindustaan Azaad Hai!

I was walking back to my place after another exciting day of work at the office. The darkened road was illuminated in specks by vehicles driving on it. The traffic, as is usual everywhere in India, was rough and chaotic. Cars blared horns, with auto-rickshaws scooting through whatever driveable space they could manage in between two vehicles. Pedestrians walked everywhere except on the footpaths. Teenagers and professionals hanged around stalls selling evening snacks like paav bhaaji, paani puri and other fried fare. People were busy in the purchases of their daily groceries and necessities. Some may have left their offices too and were eager to leave for their resting abodes, impatient in their longing and to be back at their zone, where they could rest and relax.

I was walking towards a stall to have some paani puris for myself. For that, I had to cross over to the other side of the road. As I turned into the bend, a cycle-rickshaw turned past me. A cycle rickshaw is a fantastic machination on our roads. It is a relic of the past, yet a thriving activity as part of our daily transportation and commutation. It could be called as an anachronism, which lets the wretched survive the belches of modernity. Each time, I look at the face of a rickshaw puller, i get reminded of “Om Puri” from the film, “City of Joy.” A rickshaw puller lets a traveller ride on his back. A perfect symbiosis of human life in urbanity. The puny needs his bread. The mighty; his comfort. But then all of it is fine, because a rickshaw puller is able to provide for his one roomed family back at his home.

As I was walking towards the stall where I intended to have my paani puris. A person standing on the road yelled, asking for the cycle-rickshaw puller to stop by, “Haan rickshaw, chalega?” he enquired. The rickshaw puller denied his request with a curt shaking of his head. At this, the waiting fare replied, “arey, saaley, chalega kyun nahi?”

“Nahi chaloonga. Bas! Hindustaan Azaad Hai, pata nahi kya?” He laughed at his own reply and rode into the darkness of the night.

I smiled at hearing that and breathed in his utterance of freedom as dusty winds, troubled by speeding vehicles, brushed past my ear.

Image from here