Lesson 10: Children of an Abused Nation

Contributed by J Bo

Statutory warning: What lies ahead is unpleasant. Perhaps. It could also be familiar. And that's my contribution today. Yours?

It’s a common sight to find a traffic jam on a fly-over in Delhi. Most jams here are usually due to a single moron. These are people who – in the middle of after-work traffic – decide to turn their vehicle in the opposite direction to common sense. It was nearing twilight and I was sitting in the autorickshaw, stuck in one such jam. You could see the slums below, not too many, just an odd cluster, sporadically strewn around, with little chulhas – two bricks surround by three A-4 size, tin sheets to keep the wind out -- beginning to smoke. There was this man and kid, maybe 6, maybe 10, standing at a distance from one of the hovel clusters.

From the top, I could see his back and that he was somewhat aged and was wearing a lungi. The traffic had begun moving again. Both him and the child were staring into the beyond, with the old man’s hands on the kid’s shoulder. The auto had moved and with another turn I would lose sight of the pair. And then the old man had looked around furtively and lifted his lungi and guided the kid’s hand and we turned. Twilight tricks? I was wearing specs.

Third year of college, to and fro was usually on Delhi Transport Corporation buses. Now general rule in Delhi buses is to head straight for the ‘only for ladies’ seats. Often, there are men sitting on these seats and of course they don’t get up. They resolutely look outside or anywhere but at the women standing around them. Women often have verbal skirmishes with such men. The others usually watch. So this woman gets on with two children – tot in arms and little girl, 4-ish, by side – and an old man, surprisingly, offers his seat. She declines and insists he keep sitting. He does and then kindly, makes the little girl perch on his lap. It was all very symbiotic.

To prevent the child falling off, Old Man kept his hands on the child’s knees, she wore a dark blue frock. A little later, I thought that his hand was a little higher on the child’s thighs. Yet no one else looked bothered, so I continued looking outside as well. Some more time later, the man’s fingers were under the frock’s hem. “Janaab, aap kya kar rahein?” had escaped my mouth before I could… I don’t know what. (What are you doing mister?)

At that moment, the bus stopped to let some more people in. And something weird happened. The old man started opening and closing his mouth like a gold fish; but the mother… She clutched the tot even tighter to her bosom, snatched the little girl off the old man’s lap and stalked off the bus; shoving me hard in the process. Before she alit, she turned and gave me one of the most hateful looks I have ever received in my life. I don’t want to think about what that look meant. Did she hate me for stopping it? Or because she knew and yet hadn’t opened her mouth? Everyone else kept on looking outside.

Happened to discuss the above episodes with someone. The response? “These lower class people; they can do anything.”

End of part one

So the Indian youth are apparently losing their virginity at the ripe age of 19. ‘Generation X, Y, Z values virginity over pre-marital sex’ read the jubilant headlines. What rot. But then, they mean ‘technical’ virginity. Like pop the cherry. But what about fringe benefits? Or pre-loaders?

Like He lost his ‘virginity’ at age four. Daily, when his ayah/maid gave him a bath. It was an exercise in mutual fondling. “I didn’t mind it, thought I knew it was wrong,” he said. “For a long time I had wondered if I would go to hell for liking it, I was afraid I was dying, each time I… till I was 13,” he says. He is a man of words, when he talks, he pours. Or Her, feeling guilty about asking him, “Dad, why did you feel my breasts all those years back?” She is not guilty for him, but, “Mom didn’t know. Shit. She had tears in her eyes. Maybe I should have kept quiet?” But she is sane, she turned out just fine.

Or Him narrating how he looked much older than anyone else since he was, well, hirsute. He also has a very nice voice, but a baritone at 14 isn’t always a good thing. It was his Math tuition teacher, she was 26. “I just closed my eyes and couldn’t…no control, so I came early…” he hesitated, trying to make it sound cute while he has ever since been mortified. Scared of women, why, who would have thought that? It is a scary thought. Because when people get scared of each other, they do mean, underhanded things to balance the status quo.

Or take her, another Daddy’s personal pleasure possum. Now in families where Fathers drink – or there is alcoholism – there is always this pervasive sense of fear. Of not doing a thing out of place that could lead to an argument. You don't do anything that could catch anyone's eye. Drunks always yell. Whether men or women. And look ugly too. So in drunk-at-home families, there is always The Hour, when the first drink begins, after which you pretty much pray you are not The Chosen One. Some drunk parents beat kids, others emotionally destroy kids, still others forget that the child is not just flesh and blood, but His/Her flesh and blood. Another almost-case where a 15-year-old brain told her to keep her legs tightly clenched while Daddy drunk, groped for the drawstrings. The alcohol made him sleepy and he left without much trying. “I still don’t know if I should be grateful that he drank so much that night…” is all she says, sipping her whiskey. (And oh, when you are drinking at 25 or 32, you will become a drunk parent for sure.)

And him, Senor Don Juan Desi: If it moves, will do. When it comes to sexually respecting women, he thinks the lowest of them and serially cheats on the women he says he loves. He wouldn’t agree to it though. The reason? Older women; he was always a rather good-looking boy. He was mostly let down by mother figures. The first was his best friend’s mother. Apparently, his own mother knew about it.

How many other mothers keep quiet? Do the parents really not know… or they don’t have the balls to accept it and speak up? Which part is tougher: Taking on the Predator or explaining it to the child? We have 53.22 per cent children ABUSED. Crudely, that’s half the kids you see playing every evening in any given park. (and that’s from the surveyed sample, we are a huge nation) If it’s 53 % kids abused; those kids grow up to be adults. So a nation of abused adults. Which way do they swing? Victims or predators?

Perhaps let's say it is rampant the world over. But does everyone stay as hush about it as we do? Given the long time Indian families stay together – be it joint family or meeting relatives frequently for festivals and weddings – our abuse cases are mostly close family. Fifty per cent are close relatives or known people, says report released by the Ministry of Women and Child Development. Or perhaps that’s the nature of child abuse: We sire to devour. And it’s not low-class, high-class. When it comes to children, everyone likes a bite. So now I don’t bother asking, “What was your first time like?” Most of us are lying.

PS: I will not be a mute spectator. I will try and have balls.

The Report Says on Sexual Abuse

1. 53.22% children reported having faced one or more forms of sexual abuse.
2. Andhra Pradesh, Assam, Bihar and Delhi reported the highest percentage of sexual abuse among both boys and girls.
3. 21.90% child respondents reported facing severe forms of sexual abuse and 50.76% other forms of sexual abuse.
4. Out of the child respondents, 5.69% reported being sexually assaulted.
5. Children in Assam, Andhra Pradesh, Bihar and Delhi reported the highest incidence of sexual assault.
6. Children on street, children at work and children in institutional care reported the highest incidence of sexual assault.
7. 50% abuses are persons known to the child or in a position of trust and responsibility.
8. Most children did not report the matter to anyone.

Introducing: You Don't Know Who

On the Indo-US nuclear policy for laymen

You-Don't-Know-Who: That someone/blogger/person who would usually be in a position of authority - either directly or with direct authority to speak on authority -- and will give us bits of their wisdom or their two bits; which of course you are free to decide, for self. They might choose to remain undisclosed and not reveal their shitizenship because of parental, occupational, situational or spousal pressure. In absolute empathy and a hope they would come out of the closet soon, here's some insight from our first You Don't Know Who (YDKW).

YDKW1 is someone who hobnobs with People with Power and knows things we Might Not Know. So perhaps he will share them here. Also, this other-worldly tone will be dropped in usual posts. I am feeling enigmatic and all. Also, that the bit about Atoms for Peace and 20 Gwe completely got me. Poetry and politics, of the nuclear kind. I just understood that much and it makes me queasy; you go figure.
J Bo, Over and Out
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Explaining the Nuclear Deal: Issues to Think About

The brouhaha over the nuclear deal has created a great more noise than light. Most people don't really know what is happening, and it does not help that our esteemed MPs are choosing to exaggerate and shout rather than debate the merits or demerits of the deal. In a few short paragraphs, here are the bare bones of the deal:

What is India's nuclear position?
India's nuclear energy program began in the 1950s with a great deal of involvement of the United States through the Atoms for Peace program, including helping build and providing nuclear fuel for the nuclear reactor in Tarapur, as well as through scientific cooperation. Differences arose in 1968 with India's opposition to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT). The NPT recognises five states (US, USSR/Russia, UK, France and China) as Nuclear Weapons States on the basis that they tested nuclear weapons before 1967. India considers this discriminatory. [i] Signatories to the NPT are allowed access to each other's civilian nuclear facilities. After 1974, when India tested its first nuclear device, the US formed the Nuclear Suppliers Group (NSG), to oversee sales of nuclear material. In 1978 the US Congress passed the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Act but the US continued to provide some nuclear fuel to India under a 1963 treaty with India until 1980, when it passed on those responsibilities to France.
In 1992 the NSG limited sales of nuclear technology and materials to non-Nuclear Weapons States only if their nuclear reactors were under full scale safeguards implemented by the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA). France continued to provide nuclear fuel to India until it too adhered to this provision in 1996. China and Russia have supplied India with nuclear fuel after this period. Nuclear energy in 2006 accounted for 3 GigaWatts of electricity, or 2.6 per cent of India's electricity generation. [ii]

India plans on expanding the amount of electricity generated by nuclear energy to 20 GWe by 2020 (this is from nuclear plants already under construction). Except that we have a lack of Uranium. Most of our Uranium is low quality, except some newly discovered deposits that have as yet to be mined. Our plants are running at under 40% capacity when they could be running at above 90%. In another words we are paying more than twice the costs of electricity generated by nuclear energy because we are stopped from buying nuclear fuel because of NPT and NSG guidelines.

What does the nuclear deal do?
The nuclear deal will allow us to buy some (though not all) nuclear fuel and technology from the US, and it commits the US (which is the most important member of the NSG) to convince other members of the NSG to change their guidelines so that India can also buy fuel from them.

What do we pay for this deal?
Money. The deal allows them to sell us nuclear fuel and technology and it allows us to buy it from them. That is the bare bones. The complications are that we will have to put 14 out of our 22 nuclear plants under supervision of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and promise to use those reactors only for civilian purposes. This will apply to most of the new reactors that will be built.

Does this mean we cannot build, or test, nuclear weapons?
We can build as many nuclear weapons as we want, as long as the fuel is from the military nuclear facilities. If we test nuclear weapons we have a problem, with the US at the least. The US is bound by its Atomic Energy Act of 1954 and the Hyde Act, 2006, that will mean it cannot sell us fuel if we test nuclear weapons. The Agreed Text of the nuclear deal does not talk about nuclear testing, but simply says that national laws will apply. This is what happened in the earlier Tarapur case. The US had to stop supplying fuel under its own laws, and passed the responsibilities on to others. In reality we don't know when, or if, we will have to test nuclear weapons, and if and when it happens, we can try and negotiate a position then. As things stand now, if we test, the US will have to stop supplying us with nuclear fuel & equipment. The only way to beat that is to convince the US to change its laws.

Why do people dislike the deal?
Critics of the deal feel that we are losing the independence of our policy options by signing up to this deal. We will have to put a large part of our nuclear infrastructure under international supervision, and if things go wrong we will have bought large expensive nuclear energy plants and not be able to buy fuel for them. They insist that we should concentrate on clean coal and other alternative sources of energy. The reality is that we don't have clean coal technology and the coal we use for electricity production is immensely polluting. Solar, and hydrothermal power is unreliable, expensive and just not enough.

The other main reason that people dislike the deal is that they feel it is an excuse by which the US will try and control India. In reality the deal is just a civilian nuclear deal, not a military compact. India is bound by its own laws, nobody else's, this does not change that. the deal also allows us to buy nuclear fuel and technology from anybody and also to buy enough fuel for the lifetime of the nuclear reactors. If the US, for any reason, terminates the deal, it has to pay compensation.

Bottom line
We are a growing power, with a hungry economy. We need energy, and we also need to make new relationships. This is part of that process. It could be a better deal, but you don't negotiate with a superpower and get everything we want. In the real world life is about compromises, to quote a former US Ambassador who I know well, "What people need to remember is that both sides were negotiating as much by what they left out as by what they put in. Their objectives were largely, but not entirely, compatible. India can demonstrate that it is not bound by unilateral US requirements. The US can demonstrate, albeit with a little more difficulty, that it can fully abide by US law under the 123 agreement. Neither side can get the comfort involved in having its maximum desires spelled out."

[i]. Indian government position on NPT and other treaties dealing with non-proliferation: http://www.indianembassy.org/policy/CTBT/embassy_non_proliferation.htm .
[ii]. "Nuclear Power in India" Briefing Paper 45, Uranium Information Centre, http://www.uic.com.au/nip45.htm.
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PS: Ok, one question. When we say, we will have to pay 'money --> does the government have like contingency funds -- money for a rainy day, like when we (govt) sign a nuclear deal or something -- or does that us paying money mean more taxes soon? Paisa kahan se aata hai?
I don't understand, I will ask. Shrug. Shamelessly. So, all those who wish to write, or click photos (no one? anyone?), make videos, make podcasts, cartoon strips with Desi, better, neater versions of Desi... feel free! You got the email, here it goes: foxytanya@gmail.com.
Hmmm...at the rate I am saying that line, I think I need a jingle.

Lesson 8: Are you easy, or are you good?

Contributed by Citizen Crimson

(From J Bo: Well, for those who read us, hear about us (dheere dheere) and even those who laugh at us… Thanks! Some things work as motivation, others work as irritants and still others simply make us grit our teeth, grin and bear it and some of us… well, we send early morning emails to others. Had emailed the contributors and those helping out, conveying gratitude I really DO feel. You see, people find it far easier to wear their sexuality on their sleeves than they would wearing their patriotism. Or wish for a better life. Or whatever high-faluda funda you want to call it. We see it as Simple Steps To Better Living. And of course if we can rake some dirt on the things and people-things that bother us; we will. Today’s post, is Citizen Crimson’s response to the email I had sent out two days back. He writes...)

There are very few expressions that have as much of a positive, infectious energy as a sincerely written "Thank you note". Do you remember the last one you received? Chances are it was very long ago, and you still have it preserved somewhere. A 'thank you' is an acknowledgement of something that was well intended, a symbol of a smile somewhere, a mark of a world worth living in, if only for that one single moment.

Have you looked into the eyes of a thankful person? They pour out affection, for everything. Would you not feel the world to be a better place, only if you could see it in the eyes of every stranger, that he was thankful for something somewhere?

Why do you think those "thank you" notes after an Oscar/Miss XYZ etc are so long? Not even a single person, who needs to be thanked, should be missed. The feeling of being thankful, I have come to realise, is blissfully fulfilling for everyone.

How often have we been thankful for all that we have? And expressed it too? When was the last time YOU wrote your heartfelt "thank you note"? Why is it rare? Why does it need a reason and occasion?

And why, more often than not, we choose to "blame for what went wrong" rather than 'thank for what went right'? Are we inherently a thankless bunch of souls, who don't give a damn to what's happening right in our lives? Are we always looking for catching collars rather than patting backs? I cringe at the thought, and I want it to be shoved aside as a symptom of a malfunctioning neuron in my brain, that needs repair.

Heres my bit as the Shitizen:

I thank my family, for making me all that I am and for giving me everything that I ever wanted.
I thank my friends, for the learning, unlearning and relearning I have had with them, through them.
I thank the good politicians, for staying good against all odds, as I realise how unbearable the pressures can be.
I thank the honest police officials, for their excruciatingly lonely attempts to make a difference in an idle system.
I thank those media professionals, who genuinely entered the media world to make a difference, and are still not driven by TRP's.
I thank that English teacher, who made me read The Hitchhikers' Guide To The Galaxy, as my first book.
I thank that old man, who was shouting slogans at a traffic signals, urging everyone to follow the traffic rules.
I thank that stranger, who had my laptop returned to my address when I had...(well lets leave it at that :) )
I thank all those individuals, who are trying to make a positive difference to the world around them, in their own small way.

I thank all the good people, simply for being good!

Thank You ALL!

Word of the day (contributed by First Shitizen of India): Desident; the original of the word dissident. Meaning: When other fellow Indians drive with their car noses sticking in your car's behind and sudden braking causes everyone's noses to be in everyone's, er, behinds. Cars I mean. (grin)

PS: And Citizen CRIMSON: TELL that laptop story...sounds like a fun one...now that you did get it back and all. :D Tell, tell! Phir kya hua...?

Two Good Indians: Abhhyanand & Anand Kumar, Patna

PS: My right forearm is hurt; too much typing, it's swollen...am trying to type out Lesson 5....IF anyone wants to contribute...PLEASE mail me your work ASAP...even if it's a picture and caption. Would be really grateful if we can have the next three lessons already in. Please help, we cannot have a break in the posts here...foxytanya@gmail.com

The Ashok Rajpath Street in Patna is where one can find literally hundreds of coaching centers.

It is in fact, a haunt for many young people in Bihar hoping to crack various entrance exams and secure a bright future for themselves. However, there is another coaching institute in Patna that is a league apart from all these.

The students attending it are mostly poor, are housed, fed and coached for free. And it boasts a success rate of almost 95 per cent in the IIT JEE. It is called the Super 30 and it is run by an IPS officer Abhayanand and a mathematics teacher, Anand Kumar.

“We wanted to help the children who were intelligent but who did not have enough money to pay the IIT coaching fees as they are quite expensive,” says Anand Kumar.

The two of them consulted teachers, principals and schools before shortlisting their first batch of 30 deserving candidates. Most of the students who enrolled were the children of marginal farmers and from panchayat schools.

They were brought to Patna, provided food, lodging and coaching under one roof and free of cost. And the results speak for themselves- when the entrance results for 2003 were announced, 18 of the 30 had made it. And this year, 28 students made it to IITs.

But as a testament to the teaching methodology at Super 30, the students compete not on the basis of caste or quota, but sheer competence. And every year, battling funds crunch and poaching by rival coaching institutes, Abhay Anand and Anand Kumar make sure that at least 30 deserving students like get a shot at making their dreams a reality.

Original story

One good Indian is all it takes,

To create an India we wish to make.

Chak De India: After 13 tries, football team bags Nehru Cup

CutnPaste
In one of the greatest nights for Indian football in a long time, a solitary goal from NP Pradeep against Syria clinched India's first title victory in the ONGC Nehru Cup in Delhi on Wednesday night. Bob Houghton's men accomplished the remarkable feat through a 43rd minute strike against tournament favourites Syria, which should prove to be a new beginning for Indian football. Indian captain Bhaichung Bhutia hoped the victory would herald a new beginning for Indian football.
Read full story

Lesson 4: Yours, Litter-ally, Indian!

It happens only in India

I will not throw my cigarette butts and toffee wrappers on the road. If need be, I shall wrap those in a paper to throw in a bin later. Or use the ashtray in my car. That’s my contribution today. Yours?

Sree, writes/contributes from Canada and says, "30 States, 1618 languages, 6400 castes, 6 religions. My India. And here is my application in white paper for the J.Bo, J Bites Indian Shitizenship.

We Are The Litter Soldiers.

An ad campaign on Indian Television few years ago: A taxi driver at a traffic signal, spitting on the road. A woman in a car drives close to the taxi, lowers her window glasses, looks at the taxi driver and says "Cheee" making a grimace. The taxi driver has an embarrassed look. A slogan shows up on screen: “Say Cheeee, Keep Mumbai Clean"

Likewise, it is my dream too to have a litter free India.

We, as a nation, have made several sincere attempts to keep our streets clean. All of it died out in time. We Indians have short memories; let it be an explosion or an eruption, OR a litter free campaign.

When America still cries for a 9/11, we have moved on with every disaster that has hit our land. We are eager to get back to what we call a normal life. If only we just pause and think for a while, the getting back to life can be made better than the same old same old. If only we develop the mentality that having better things in life is not being less humble. If only… We just stop littering on the streets.

An Indian, who spits and pees in one super-shot on our streets, is able to control and quit while in a foreign land where it is punishable. Makes me wonder what we can do to inject some sense of patriotism in our everyday life other than just painting faces in tricolours or spending Rs 5 on a microscopic flag on an August 15^th.

Do we need to give out flowers to everyone who peepee in public and hope that such embarassment/ Gandhigiri, will make them quit? He would probably find a flower free space to unzip his pants.

Nothing works in India, and let me say in the same breath that we can make it work in India. And thus my wish to RIP in a litter-free, clean India can be made possible. I often visualize the nightmare of having an unsatisfied death knowing that I shall be taken through a litter-some street for my funeral.

Canada has a Litter King who did the unthinkable by legally changing his name to 'Litter King’, so that no one will forget about his mission to keep the streets of his country litter free. He walks with an ice cream bucket as his crown and cleans trash from the streets. And he hopes one day his campaign catches on. His message to his people,"Protect Your Land. Okay?”

One man just might make a difference in a country like Canada, where almost all the streets are litter free. The Litter King has the task to finish off the already satisfactory job or remind his countrymen about the importance of having a clean land. But in India, we need several minds to unite and start from scratch.

We should protect our land, very much like the brave soldiers who fought in Kargil.We are the Litter Soldiers. But how? Ad campaigns alone seldom work. We have seen that.

Gandhigiri seems to work when aimed at aforeign land and its people, rather than our own.

When the Gujarat disaster happened few years ago in 2001, there was an online campaign started by a website to light virtual lamps for the departed souls. Several thousands were lit by Indians all over the globe. People seem to think better in front of a computer. And right here we have the bloggers’ strength to pretty much scribble down our dreams about a better India. And let me dream, that someday we can make some of it, if not all, a reality.

__________________

Thanks Sree!

PS: It takes one, we now have three writing here: two out of those will not litter. Not bad at all. Happy at this small, small start… and hoping for more. We need more. Come one, come all…and even if you want to laugh at us, just pass on the message, okay? :)

Please DO mail your contributions - foxytanya@gmail.com: It could be anything, something you write, a funny picture you have taken, share a recipe by the aunty in your locality....anything that is India.

Lesson 3: Auto-drivers, resident evil?

It happens only in India

I will not sit in any auto that does not go by the meter. I will insist on going by the regulated fare system, even if it means waiting for five minutes for another auto. That’s my bit today. Yours?

(mail contributions to: foxytanya@gmail.com)

General Rule of Rain in Delhi: When it rains, autorickshaw drivers will hike fare prices and will generally haggle/harass more than on other days. Also, I will not haggle and if pissed off sufficiently, will either report the number to the police or note it down and report it to this blog. ;)

I don’t have a car and since whenever I get into a DTC bus, I get into a fight – just a general dislike for being felt up – I have to take autos, like many others in this city.

Now the New Delhi government has introduced the NEW meters in Delhi that start at Rs 10 for the first kilometer and ticks at Rs .45 every 1km. With the introduction of this new fare system, NO auto-driver and I mean NO autodriver has any business to EVEN suggest going without turning down the meter. YOU are supposed to call and inform about the ones who do.

(Calculating auto fare IF it’s the old meter and starts from Rs 8 = Note kilometers on meter and subtract one from it + left-over kilometers multiply by 4.5 = whatever the result, add a Rs 10 to it and pay. Eg. If distance is 10, your fare = 9 x 4.5 + 10 = 50. (erm, use your calculators, i made a mistake calculating even this bit! had written 55 earlier, heh heh)

Since the introduction of new meters (start at Rs 10), auto-drivers have no business charging anything other than what that meter says, no matter how long or short the distance. They even try, “It’s Sunday” madame to get more money out of you.

NOW, earlier the Delhi Traffic Police HAD a complaint number printed on most autos: It was mandatory to write down the complaint number at the back of the auto-drivers' seat and also behind or on the sides of the auto. The mandate being that the complaint number had to be conspicuously displayed.

Today, that number does NOT work. IF you DO call the Delhi Police on 100, the calls are not answered. The Police Control Room (PCR, 100) was called at 1.24pm yesterday (August 27); but there was NO RESPONSE. Delhi Police insists that they ALWAYS pick up calls or return calls. There is a caller-id facility that they have. So what’s happening Delhi Police… rakhi holidays perhaps?

Interestingly, once you DO call the PCR van and it arrives, the policemen will do their best to NOT register a complaint. PLEASE REMEMBER: If you EVER make a complaint to the police, no matter how mundane, have it written in their log books – every PCR van is SUPPOSED to carry a log book – and ASK them for a complaint number. Unless you are Sonia Gandhi or Shilpa Shetty, they will not remember your complaint; and since most policemen anyway suffer from voluntary amnesia; PLEASE take that complaint number. It works as your PAN number when dealing with the police.

Yes, auto-drivers are also trying to earn their livelihood; but since I TOO work hard for my money, I really don’t like parting with it more than I have to. Perhaps you can pay a Rs 100 for a distance where you should perhaps pay Rs 70… please DO NOT pay that extra Rs 30 out of sympathy or whatever. Not everyone can pay that extra money and it’s like letting a carnivore taste human blood…

Furthermore, since there is no Traffic Police number to call and Delhi Police DOES NOT respond to calls; KINDLY note down rogue auto-drivers’ numbers and mail me; or post as a comment on this blog. Once there are 50-odd numbers, I WILL approach the Police and ask for answers. Of course meanwhile, I shall be calling them if and when need arises. And once they do NOT respond to my call, say five times, I will take my call records and approach them. Oh yes.

If you can take pictures of autodrivers when they refuse to take you anywhere – they usually sit with their legs up looking nonchalant while refusing, makes for a fun pic – please use the camera on your mobile phones, take the pic of the driver and the auto with the number visible and mail me (foxytanya@gmail.com). Let us see HOW long does this official loot continue.

I don’t know the public transport complaint rules – read cab/ auto – rules in other cities. Those who know, would appreciate if you fill me in. Also, if people reading from other cities can give complaint numbers to reach the authorities; would be grateful.

Meanwhile, here are the autowallahs who refused to budge because it was a Sunday and wouldn’t go by meter. Two of them also said: “Dekhte hain tum kya karti ho.” (Let’s see what you do). Well, very soon.

DL 1R F 3256: this man is also a marijuana smoker and is so stoned and argumentative, you should not sit in his auto at all!
DL 1H R 1729

Dial-an-auto-service: However, not ALL auto drivers are the Devil’s minions. A whole lot of them are hard-working people working to meet ends meet… Even before they get money home, they have to pay something like Rs 250 as a daily rental for using an auto. An autorickshaw costs Rs 1-3 lakhs (additional 5000 to install a new meter); and not every autodriver can afford to take a loan for the same. So they drive rented autos according to pre-decided time slots. Some auto-drivers have started keeping cell phones and you can call them like a taxi-service. Am collecting numbers and will start publishing them here soon so that those in given localities may avail the service.

Meanwhile, some taxi numbers – tried and tested – good service, non-interfering and always provide a taxi.
Chhote Yadav, Vasant Kunj: 9868748342
Taxu Ranvir, Gurgaon/VK: 98116-18863
Delhi Traffic Police landline: 011-2337888
More to come…

PS: The Blank Noise Project and I love street dogs do NOT link to this site. However, both are trying to work in different fields that need help in India. Got pictures of street dogs that have been adopted? Please mail them to me...will pass them on to blog moderator on doggie-blog.

Lesson 2: The Solo Soldier

It happens only in India

I will not jump any red light today or allow those whose cars I ride in to do it either. That's my contribution today. Yours?

Traffic signals in India are like a microcosm in themselves. Much happens at a traffic signal: It’s a market place for everything from flowers to toys to magazines and incense stick, it’s a place where along with alms, lives, love and hope are found and lost. Some people sleep at traffic lights. Some fall in love – well they did in Kaho Naa Pyar Hai! Many earn their livelihoods on traffic lights; and I mean the beggars and vendors AND the money-extorting traffic cops. And also, traffic signals/lights have stories to tell. Stories that are played out daily, each time the light changes. Here, our first contributor, blogger Crimson Feet shares the story of the Solo Soldier.

The Solo Soldier (renamed from original blog)


The best part about moving from Bombay to Noida has been the drastic changes in my travel routine...
Local train ---> Royal Enfield Thunderbird
1hr 17 min one way ---> 17 min door-to-door
Expensive cab rides ----> Peaceful bike sojourns
Cramped roads with pollution ----> Wide roads with pollution ;)
Saturday night frenzy ---> Weekend travel to Dehradun/Rishikesh/Chandigarh/Lucknow etc

I like to have my Sony thump crooning my favrourite number right into my brain during these peaceful bike rides to and fro bet home and office. A few days ago I saw an old man shouting through a hand-held loudspeaker on a traffic signal on my way back from office.

His shirt read “Follow traffic rules”: Yatayat ke niyamon ka palan karein.

He was old but looked ferociously serious about what he was saying. I could only “see” him till I switched the thump off and tried to “hear” him. Too much noise, I couldn’t pick a word. The seconds remaining on the signal were getting closer to zero, and throttles were being pulled... He looked back, and with a thumping conclusion to his speech, moved aside to let the traffic pass...

Between Noida’s Sector 29 and 58, there are five-six traffic signals, and rule violation is so rampant, that when I decide to stop at a red light; I fear I will cause an accident because EVERY other commuter is jumping the red light and I am the ONLY one standing!

Still, PROUDLY yet, I do STOP when it’s a red light. Of course the worst part is when MY signal is green and I find commuters ready to bang into me irresepctive of their situation in life and on the road!

The old man seemed hesitantly proud of himself too. He looked "ignored" and YET had the conviction to keep doing what HE felt was a good thing to do... May be he had had a tragedy in his family, maybe he was mad. As I crossed him, I wanted to catch his eye and nod approvingly. He never looked At anyone, just stared blankly into nothing; and I felt him to be more alive than most of us commuters...

I think he should know that his effort is NOT going waste.

PS: Crimson Feet, thankyou for this.... Please tell him next time… And if anyone else living in Noida sees this old man, Stop, and thank. And DON’T jump that light.

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Lesson 1: Aao, tamasha dekhen

(come let's watch the show/fun)
It happens only in India

“Kuch karna zaroori hai kya? Why cannot you be content to see what is happening around you? And anyway, what have you done so far that you think you can make a difference?” said one. “One person’s will or wanting it does not really matter when we are 6 billion of us clubbed together sharing the same resources,” said another. And that’s what it boils down to: Those who care, those who don’t and those who pretend they don’t give a damn. We’ve just reached the 60-years-of-Indepedence landmark; and yet some things really make me wonder if that figure means anything at all. Both good and bad things. We cannot answer if one person can make a difference. You see, because usually, for one person to make ANY difference, he/she needs MORE PEOPLE behind them. This is one start, hoping more would join.

In the time of superheroes, this country needs a Hero.

We are not it. We are the anti-heroes. Show allegiance, join in, we need more people to write here. Whenever you want to, or talk and share stories. A course in writing or workshop is not needed, just a will and a want are. Don't send friend requests. We don't care for friends. But we care for ideas. It is our country, and yours; and we are not bothered about those who don't care. Yet.

THOSE WHO WANT TO MAIL ME STORIES, INSIGHTS, VIEWS OR PICTURES ON INDIA FOR THIS BLOG, MAIL AT: foxytanya@gmail.com

I will not let my auto-driver get on to the pavement today, or zigzag through traffic. That would be my contribution today. Yours?

The real reason behind road accidents in India are not malfunctioning traffic lights (when it rains and when it doesn’t), lack of road sense or general apathy to rules. It is Morons.

Like the morons who ride bikes and think that unless they stand two inches in front of the stop line, their peepees (PP, pyari penis) will shrink. To reach the beginning-of-the-line, they will zigzag through an already-constricted traffic, causing further confusion and much honking. THEN, in their excitement of having reached ahead, they will promptly twist the front tyre, lose control and fall, JUST as the light turns green. So that others either run him over or brake suddenly. Result: An accident.

Or, those morons, who immediately brake, right in the middle of oncoming traffic: To WATCH an altercation or fight happening on the side of the road. And they’re usually looking at the other side of the road. Or at girls standing at bus stops, or inside autorickshaws or are walking on the pavement. All this while, their bike’s noses will be right in your car’s backside, so that if you break, either the moron goes flying on to your bumper or lands on the road. Result: An accident.

And of course, those morons who think pavements are to pave their path for reaching ahead of others. If in India, NEVER walk on pavements: You are most likely to get killed there. (Thinks of certain film stars and big industrialist son’s practicing their obstacle driving skills on pavements…)

Or the coupled morons with her happily massaging his back and him craning his neck backwards to listen to her or blissful in the massage. To prolong their mutual pleasure, the coupled morons usually ride at 20 kph in the middle of heavy traffic, the other fast movers circling them, creating a sort of mid-traffic love island, honking like crazy, sending dirty looks… while our coupled morons ride on unaffected… Till someone either bumps into them or vice-versa. Result: An accident.

The bigger the crowd around an accident sight, the more likely it is to watch either a death scene or a fist-fight. It is REALLY funny, how Indians stop on their way – presumably to work or other important destinations – to watch an Accident Scenario. We have all the time in the world. No wonder productivity sucks.

But we hardly help. Because we like a good show, but don’t want to be part of it ourselves. Because we wonder what’s in it for us. Or how it would inconvenience us. Or perhaps, MOST of the time, we just don’t care. Tamasha hai, let’s watch. Yes, there are those who help etc; just don’t go expecting it. you don’t get miracles and change of character on a daily basis.