Lessons from a Cashless Day

It was really late when I realized that money in my pocket was really scarce. I usually take the 11 0 clock bus from my campus, Lavale to the city. It was 10.55, I was in my room and I had to rush to catch my bus. I left the OMG messy room, wore my sandals and ran, only to realize that by the time I reached outside my hostel, my sandal was broken from the sole… there was no time to return otherwise I would have missed my bus. So I ran to the bus and finally made it to the city. On the way I was thinking about my balance.. A hundred rupees and some ten rupees chillar.. Basically I spend around 125 rupees everyday only on travel… how would I manage today? What about my lunch? What shall I do? If I take the auto now... I won’t be able to come back. So after much deliberation I decide to take the Pune State Transport bus, because it is cheap! I walked down to the University bus station and waited for 15 minutes before getting the bus to the Railway Station … You see my office is at MG Road and there are no direct buses till that place, so I waited and waited and finally the bus arrived… it was stuffy, people were hanging out and the bus driver didn’t look like he wanted anyone to get in… I literally ran (my shoes didn’t help) and for the firs time in my life I jumped on a moving bus.. ( I couldn’t afford to miss this one) The bus ride was equally interesting… there was hardly any place to stand... I saw men every where and I felt like someone will steal my wallet from my bag… so I quietly hung near the driver, clutching my jute ka jhola… with every break that the bus took I felt I would fall no every other guy. … Finally I managed to station myself against two girls so that even if I fell it wouldn’t be the other gender! God, I was never so shy of my feminity ! J Some twenty minutes of struggling… Seeing people from all walks of life...a maid, a sales person, college students, school kids, working women and men, old men and frustrated bus conductor, the Railway Station finally arrived. I asked the conductor rather diffidently, if I should get down here for MG Road.To my utter surprise, he helped! He said, no… get down to the depot and walk to another bus stop, and then get a bus from there…I walked… and at the other bus stop waited for another 15 minutes. Buses came and went. People stood and boarded their buses.. Some looked at me weirdly, while some smiled, some even helped.. After realizing that I was rather late I took an auto to MG road.. Thankfully I had to pay him just 13 rupees… which meant that I had spent only 18 rupees till now.. Including the 5 rupee for bus ride.. Everyday I spend around 55 rupees just getting to my workplace… I got down the auto as tired as an old man. My legs felt heavy but I felt good… Why must I feel good I thought? I hadn’t even started the day and I looked tired. I had dressed up neatly for office but now I looked shabby (my kurta all creases and my hair all radically unkempt) but I still felt good. My dad would put money in my ATM and by the evening I would be flourishing with cash again… But millions of people in my country struggle even for food. I didn’t feel good that I was better off, I felt good that I had had a chance of seeing life like this. My internship has made me go to places which I would never have stepped in- stuffy buses, chauls, and footpaths with little children begging…. I have seen life the other way – the harder life, I was glad I just had to see it, not be a part of it. I know its rather sad of me to say that I felt good not being a part of this mess, but I seriously felt glad that I was wearing an American earring, was carrying a 150 rupees diary, a proud ATM card, a driving license and a voter’s id card. I even had a sunscreen lotion, an IPOd, two mobiles. I was a lucky bitch. Nothing more. For all I know, I could ‘ve been born somewhere else and may be, be a part of that mess. I could have been anything. Today, a cashless day, taught me life’s hardest lesson – to appreciate the little gifts that life passes on our way.

ELEGY OF AN ASPIRING JOURNALIST

So I wanted to stand up for a cause. Witty, to the point, suave, sensitive, courageous and not at all feeble minded that’s what I thought a khaki clad journo was like. The memories from my one news channel days only made me feel a sense of respect for professionals from this field. And so when I had to make a choice I went for it.

Post high school I went in for an arts graduation. 3 years of my graduating life I breathed about getting into a top notch j-school and getting into my world. The world where, as a prominent newspaper ad says, “Where there is light.” I wanted to be in the light. Not the light of breaking news ( oh they feel so clichéd now!!!) not about some mega star getting a tattoo, not about marriages , not about stupid fights, not about men giving birth to babies!!!! But about the power that pen beholds. My dreamy eyes never saw that the journalists are making news, not finding them. They aren’t the lighthouses of the society, no more.

And here I stand on the foothills of entering into a brand new world. But alas I can never be a good journalist… my feeble eyes can never understand why an Indian WWF player has such strong feet… what does he eat and cook…. I can never realize the strength that a story holds, what aura it has to move the nation… I can never devote my self to those cricketing demi-gods, who lose their worship as soon as they lose a match.. they fall to a bottomless abysmal as soon as they climb the pinnacle of godliness… how can I recognize what an effect it holds on my nation, on people… alas I have no skills whatsoever .

This elegy is then written by an aspiring already dead journalist… at least I can still wonder on the oxymoron

Ramblings ramble on ---

My passion for writing has driven me to journalism. I see journalism as a strong tool to bring out change. Still trying to figure out this profession, I am an aspiring journalist. This media is very sensitive and I want to learn its idiosyncracies.. it's mood swings, its highs and lows..and what really makes it grow...And this is my small journey of discovery. Hope to keep the pen higher!