Unanswered questions

My frequent trips in and out of Delhi have a typical pattern. Leaving home in the wee hours of the morning, legging it to the airport just in time for check in, not really ‘checking-in’ anything as-more often than not-these business trips see me back by the end of the day. At the airport, once the initial formality is over, I join the queue crawling for security check; bags, laptops, mobiles and sundry items being piled randomly on the conveyor belt and disappearing mysteriously into the waiting x-ray machine is a sight that never fails to fascinate me, despite the nth viewing. In fact, being a solitary traveler has its distinct advantages and gives me a certain edge over others. I become a keen observer, a part of the milieu yet not really a part of it-on the periphery, if you get the drift-looking at people with a measure of objectivity, my self-imposed, situation-driven silence lends a different perspective to everything. In my typically detached manner I scan the all-too-familiar surroundings: I notice an elderly gentleman being helped into the wheel chair by an attendant while his better half, her grey head bent in consternation, tries to balance the unwieldy hand baggage delicately on his knees, as she shuffles forward with difficulty or a naughty boy playing truant and eluding the clutches of his harried mother…sometimes my eyes linger for a moment on a cheerful crowd of youngsters as they wait for the boarding call, exchanging loud banter, laughter and on some rare occasions, even singing their way through their ennui. This sight often transports me to the times when we, as a family, had gone on similar trips and enjoyed life to the hilt……….. till the robotic announcement for boarding breaks my reverie and brings me back. I join the serpentine line in front of the designated gate, wondering, each time, why some folks try to edge in sideways just in order to be ahead of others. What strange psychology drives such behaviour? Where will getting into the waiting bus or the plane a minute earlier, get them? There’s enough space on the buses that ply to the aircraft, and inside it, the seats are assigned so what’s their hidden agenda? To date, I haven’t been able to figure this out.

These all-too-familiar sights of scurrying passengers, whizzing in and out of airports, the endless line of cabbies waiting on the tarmac outside, the zillions of placards being flashed before one’s eyes as one saunters out, have become a part of the psyche. These overwhelming masses of human beings have transformed our airports into veritable railway stations-if one is to go by sheer numbers alone-and this is a clear indicator of one thing; it fits in perfectly with catchy slogans like India shining or words to that effect. It has done wonders for our collective morale and added to a (false??) sense of well-being and prosperity that most of us harbour.

But the drive back home promptly and effectively dispels any such rosy illusions that I may have begun to labour under. At every traffic light, the car is surrounded by hordes of ill-clad, emaciated children-with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes-hunger and despair writ large in them. This vision completely belies the earlier sense of false comfort and pride and all those clichéd tall claims seem completely undone. Have we truly arrived? Are we where we should be? Can this marginal betterment of a minuscule section of society be dubbed true progress? These and similar disquieting thoughts plague me as I introspect on a myriad related questions. All the pale-faced women, infants perched precariously on their hips, creating a melee around vehicles parked at red lights-uttering strings of inane words learnt by rote-blessing entire generations of those who happen to be their benefactors-bring you back to harsh reality with a jolt. On the one hand we have women CEOs, economists, bureaucrats, diplomats, scientists, entrepreneurs-not to mention those running NGOs with their Bachpan bachao and Nari Sarakshan Kendras but even in the nation’s capital-and a state administered by a woman to boot-the plight of these women is lamentable! Where is the ‘shining’ attribute in this dark, dismal scenario, bang in the middle of the Delhi of the twenty first century? With 25 5 % of the country’s population-a staggering 236 million- still subsisting below the poverty line, can we afford to be complacent about our so-called ‘advancement’? How can the gap be bridged? Where should a beginning be made? What would be a step-albeit a small one- in the right direction?

As I mull over these vexing queries, the 45-minute drive is over and I reach home. No closer to any solution and none the wiser for all my pondering.