Image Caption: We scanned the internet for a photograph to go with this article, and found this one by Suhail Bhat possibly the most fitting. It has been taken from https://asia.nikkei.com/
With apologies to none at all
By Vikas Mehta
The last 10 days or so have been quite hectic for me, but not all in a bad way. First, of course, was the heat that has overwhelmed much of North India for the last 2-3 weeks. Even Dehradun had eight consecutive days of temperatures above 40 degrees. All outdoor activities or excursions were shelved unless they had to be done before 7 am or after 8 pm. Shopping, therefore, went totally online for all types of groceries. I think quick commerce saw a surge, at least from our household.
Zomato put out a tweet requesting people to avoid ordering during peak afternoon hours. Oh, how I wish they had actually stopped deliveries between 12noon and 4pm. Anyways, the least one can do now is ask if any delivery person wants water. Most are thrilled and accept it, which makes me sad because it means that most residents do not voluntarily ask or offer it.
This begs another question: Why is there no law stopping outdoor work if temperatures hit a particular high, without affecting the pay or earning capacity of the workers? A country like the UAE mandates stopping all outdoor work between 12:30 and 3pm during the summer months. Even ILO conventions prescribe that if temperatures go beyond 45 degrees, all outdoor work must be stopped. Then why aren’t the government or social service organizations looking at legalising such conventions? Just a few days ago, I was at the Delhi International Airport for about 45 minutes in the well-covered and shaded arrival area, where the temperature was around 43 degrees but felt like 45, and outside, in the open, labourers were toiling away.
Last week, Dehradun saw the opening of its largest mall. I gratefully accepted the invite to attend, not just to beat the heat but also to witness first-hand a launch in a small town. Incidentally, mall-gazing footfalls shoot up in the summer months due to school vacations and to beat the heat. I call this mall-gazing as a huge number of people hardly buy anything but will spend 2-3 hours inside the mall.
The mandatory selfie points were available, and one of these featured a replica of the Eiffel Tower. And if you go global, local can’t be far behind. There was a wall of Uttarakhand depicting its culture. Would you want to hazard a guess where the crowd was?
Reel or YouTubers were visibly present. Some dressed awkwardly to catch the eye (a jacket and a lungi, for example), some shooting from weird angles, and some shouting away, in that crowd and noise, into their phones. Most were streaming live. But the strange thing was that hardly any of these were officially invited as part of the media.
That honour still went to traditional vernacular press and TV channels. Good food, gifts, etc were laid out for them, as usual. I think none came alone, so freeloaders were plenty. And the next day they dutifully covered the inauguration in a 10 by 1 column or 5 by 2 columns with a photograph. But I am sure that better coverage was generated by the YouTubers, Instagrammers, and reel-makers. So why aren’t they considered part of the media yet?
What impressed me was the range of products and brands available, from local to international, from footwear to electronics, from Apple reseller to Croma, from chic perfumes to Oud, from Market 99 to DIY. While Westside had a huge presence across two floors, Allen Solly and Van Heusen, with separate outlets for men and women, were keeping the international flag flying. There was Burger King, and then there was a local burger outlet which was flashing its price of Rs 49 for a burger, boldly. No prizes for guessing again where the crowd was.
Clearly, Bharat and India were walking shoulder to shoulder.
A few days later, I hit the road, and though it was unbearably hot, roadside dhabas were a good place to catch up with local gossip. With the election results announced just the previous day, I took the liberty to befriend my cab driver. He stopped at dhabas where the owners offered them free food in exchange for bringing in the clientele, and I chose to sit amongst these cabbies.
What immediately struck me was the age of almost all cab drivers. All those I met were below 30. Earlier, until a few years ago, most drivers were in their mid-thirties. The age dividend had caught up here also.
And they lead a punishing life. The major tourist season is the summers and monsoons. With Chardham Yatra, the road is the only option to travel as helicopter rides are way too expensive. And almost a month out of this is taken out of the equation during the Kanwariya season in monsoons when most highways are restricted to allow foot movement for Kanwariyas.
The cabbies work back to back. Often, they get only 2-3 hours of sleep a day, and they drive at a stretch for 4-5 hours. On top of that, my cabbie told me that he couldn’t sleep properly because of the excessive heat. The result is scary. You have to keep the cabbies engaged in conversation, or else fatigue takes over. To keep themselves awake, they consume gutka and Sting. Many times, they are on the phone as that’s the only way to keep in touch with families.
I am dejected that there are hardly any regulations for drivers. Why not a mandatory 15-minute break after three hours of driving? Why not an eight-hour break after every trip? Why don’t cabs have speed governors? Why are electronic tamper-proof driver logs not maintained, which can register the driving hours? I know there are economic compulsions, but it’s also about human life. It’s also about setting wrong precedents for too long, which will be very difficult to change in the long run.
The gist of my conversation with the drivers was the dismal performance of the incumbent government in UP. These guys were not surprised. So, definitely, the lack of employment opportunities was a reason. But specifically, they mentioned Agniveer and the cancellation of government exams.
Agniveer. I totally underestimated its relevance in the polls. There is palpable anger against it on the ground. The temperatures were in the mid-40s. Hot winds were blowing, and the heat quotient rose by about 5 degrees when Agniveer was mentioned. One guy likened it to ‘bal vivah’. Shaadi toh ho gayi par fayda kuch na raha. chaar saal baad divorce. What I didn’t know is that the Rs 11 lakh odd lumpsum that Agniveers get after four years comprises 30% of the basic salary every month taken from the Agniveer and equally matched by the government. “Hamara paisa baad mein hume dekar koi ehsaan nahin kar rahe.”
In today’s environment, where jobs are hard to come by, many families considered becoming a jawan a good career option. That too had been compromised. The anger had spread to the whole family, not just these youngsters.
Government jobs are still the El Dorado. So, when the government announced a drive to recruit 60-odd thousand people in the police and a few thousand more in other departments, hopes rose. Lakhs appeared for the exams. But then the exams were cancelled due to paper leaks. Again, the palpable anger against mismanagement was not hard to miss.
The bigger story for me was that finally, reality had triumphed over religion.
Interestingly, all the drivers I met had already been to Ayodhya. Some as part of their occupation and some on sponsored trips by political parties. But clearly, all that was forgotten.
The trip left me battered and bruised by the harsh climatic conditions. And my new friends, many of whom gave me their numbers just in case I need them for a trip, face this weather, these conditions, the unregulated driving conditions, and an uninsured future day in and day out.
So, while I write this in my cooled home and you read this in an AC environment, just think how little things which we take for granted could be a matter of survival for so many of our countrymen. And could decide the electoral future of our leaders. Just like small missteps or poor understanding of consumers can kill good products and destroy brands.
Were all these events random musings? Or were they connected randomly? You decide.