Kartikey Sehgal

The Bomb in Surat

A green parcel-like bomb lies at the centre of a road. The police cordon off the entire area and send a protected man to diffuse it. Crowds stand at road corners wondering what would have happened had it exploded. News channels do the same; thinking on behalf of people sitting at home.

This is a time when caste and class barriers thin out. The madam in the fancy car and the salesman inside the fancy potholed road are discussing safety issues in a few sentences. And nobody asks the sweeper his caste before informing him about the green parcel that lies at the centre of the road.

Nobody would have time to reflect on these events later. So they make the maximum of the excitement and thrill that the bomb has brought them.

When they are bored of their mechanical life or tired of their bosses, husbands and wives, these people will have the bomb to talk about. They will not seek solutions to the municipal problems or the environment. They will not complain of anything illegal or seek peaceful and friendly solutions with erring building members.

When cousins call from America or Dubai, they will have a tale to tell. They will recall how they narrowly missed stepping on the bomb or how that day they had eaten curd and sugar before leaving for work.

As the excitement fades, they will blame some community or religion for the happenings. They won’t have the time to reflect on the ‘who’s and why’s’ so they will further narrow down to sub-castes or sub-religions and put the onus for the bomb on them. When the excitement fades completely, they will forget about this event and reinstall themselves in their routine.

Newspapers will then talk of the resilience of the people who sit in packed trains and buses to reach their office despite bomb scares. They will not comment on the problems faced by the commuters but extol something that lies within the ‘common man’; the resilient spirit, the enthusiasm to persist despite problems. The commuter would read this and laud himself, forgetting that he ‘persists’ to survive and has no time to reflect on events and problems; on education and on ‘culture’.

When this excitement fades, the media will seek newer excitements; perhaps the dabbawalas who are so time-bound. The dabbawalas’ traffic and train problems would take a backseat and their spirit (like the commuter’s) in tackling the traffic and ensuring timely delivery of food would be mentioned in glowing terms. Your neighbouring middle aged people will tell their children to seek lessons from the dabbawalas while admonishing their under-aged maid for showing slackness in her work despite the promised princely sum of Rs. 1000 a month.

Those who are away from television and media would gossip about affairs and scandals. Where there is no love affair they will create one. Depending on their mental constitution they could imagine that their spouse too is having an affair or neglecting them. To bring back the excitement, they will fight and cry for some time. If the spouse confesses then they will have more excitement to live for; else they will dramatize forgiveness and reconciliation.

Butterfly

Then the spouse will take them on a holiday, not to make up or reconcile but to bring more excitement into his or her life. So that when they are back to work, it looks exciting and new to them.

Nobody will have time to think about environment until the media gets some youngsters to pose for a photograph with various banners proclaiming environmental stress and issues. The youngsters would have something to talk about for some time.

A butterfly will fly and a young kid would chase it. Then the kid would chase a puppy and play with plain green grass. That’s excitement and life enough for the child. Until it is sucked into the world of video games and gossips. And excitement.