As I reach the officers’
waiting area for what certainly seems to be a long wait I notice everyone's
head turned in a common direction. No one notices me as I discreetly slip in to
take my place among the rank and file. I too point my head in the common
direction. One more digit in the endless stream of anxious numbers, awaiting
their destiny, where the prevailing certainty is pain. The TV on the wall, the
object of studied attention of a couple of dozen pairs of eyes is belting out
news of the Gujarat elections. Its surprising how the environ of a dentist’s
waiting hall can produce such undivided interest in election results.
The wall mounted call board suddenly
bleats out its electronic tune, a prelude to a new number call. Two dozen heads
turn in unison. Someone jumps up in a scramble of dental sheets, cellphones and
spectacles and hurries off towards one of the surgeries. Why the hurry when
there is only pain beyond those closed doors, I wonder? Another figure hurries
back, obviously relieved to have been released from the agony of the last half
hour. He throws himself into a vacant spot and busies himself with tying his
shoelaces, leaving quickly without a side glance, avoiding everyone’s eyes. The
similarity with a relay race hits me – one goes in, another comes out and hands
over the baton of pain.
Valour lasts only as far as
the dental chair.
The others return to the
elections seemingly absorbing every nuance of Modi’s campaign, but in reality
the TV serves the purpose of a soporific and everyone’s attention is soon
dulled till the next number call. The nervousness is clearly discernible,
though the children are more honest about it.
Everyone returns to the TV
set which has now shifted gears and is displaying news of a gang rape in Delhi.
Coming close on the heels of the Bandra rape and the murder of a youth outside
his building society in Mumbai for trying to protect the honour of a young girl
and the Shivsena prompted arrest of two young girls for an innocuous remark, I
am struck by the irony of what appears to be the latest position in a bizarre
race between two cities vying for the top spot of infamity. Alternating lead
positions in a self defeating race between two brutish mindless dinosaurs.
Dinosaurs, because both cities appear to be long past their sell-by date, if
crowds, pollution, creaking infrastructure, falling standards of living and
rising crime are any indication.
Just when Mumbai appears to
be edging forward towards attaining this unseemly crown, Delhi manages to pull
off one more rape or grisly murder that helps it to ward off Mumbai's challenge
as the title contender for the unsafest city in India. Just when it appeared
that a semblance of sanity was appearing over the capital, its uncouth and
loutish side has once again surfaced. Did it ever disappear, or was it just a
pause for breath? Judging by the rate at which undesired events take place, it
is amazing that there are any normal people still left. Its amazing that
children still manage to go to school, couples still walk the sea-face, people
continue to party out, go shopping, see movies, enjoy music, play games, visit
libraries, study, sip a leisurely cup of tea while reading the paper or just
sit quietly looking at crowds go by.
Why is it that we as Indians
are simply unable to govern ourselves as civilized people are supposed to do?
Is that the reason why foreign countries hold so much fascination for us as a
people? Is it this that drives Indians to sell their farms and homes to migrate
to USA, Canada, Dubai and Australia, where they are content to drive taxis,
work as labourers and menials and will follow rules to a tee without a murmur. Why
is it then that those same drivers, workers and petty businessmen turn into
depraved maniacs without any sense of proportion when they live in their native
country? Is it that every Indian works best with a danda over his or her head.
Perhaps, Indira Gandhi’s
emergency wasn’t so bad after all.
I see someone signaling me.
My turn appears to have arrived, I head towards a surgery, leaving my thoughts
trailing.
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