My Contribution to Swachh Bharat (Clean India)

I drive to work, roughly 18 kms from home. Last Wednesday I left office a little early. Traffic on the road was moderate; still a couple of hours to rush hour. One typically sees the self-employed, unemployed, leisure commuters, business travelers moving about at easy pace listening to retro hits on the radio at this time of the day. Branded bikes of the ecommerce delivery boys are the only vehicles whizzing past. They always do.

I stopped at a traffic signal. Some 15 of us cars waited in no hurry, for the 35 seconds to pass. For entertainment the road-side beggars put up a fight for a pack of glucose biscuits.

I was in the right-most lane, not because I had to turn right; we hardly follow that rule in this country. On my left was a black hatchback with two men in their 40s. (Close your eyes and imagine a 40-something property dealer. Now multiply by 2)

30 seconds to go.

The gentleman from the black car in the driver’s seat pulled down his window and dismissively threw a projectile in air, an empty packet of chips that landed right in front of my car. I think I was the only one who noticed.

At times there are instincts one fosters and expresses openly. Other times these instincts are kept in check through reason, logic, and well, excuses. For once, I let my instinct express itself. These men needed to be made aware of their responsibility to make India a clean country by 2019.

25 seconds to go.

I got out of my car, walked up to the left, picked the packet of chips. Now people noticed! Immediately the focus shifted from the beggar fight to what-will-this-guy-do-now. I walked up to the black car, knocked on its window, and watched as the guy in the driver’s seat turned to me and changed his expressions thrice in a second. The last change of expression, from generally dismissive to WTF-fury, came as soon as he saw the packet of chips in my hand. Brave man rolled down the window anticipating my very obvious move and prepared for a response.

I threw the packet of chips in his lap and kept a straight face without saying a word. My intention was to make him realise his mistake and not make a fuss about it. He took it otherwise.

20 seconds to go.    

Both men got out of their cars shouting popular expletives every Indian citizen understands without any language barrier. I stood ground, hoping the motorists around me would come for help. None did. Their logic instincts worked just fine.

The gentlemen held me by the collar and towered over me. Suddenly a bright sunny afternoon turned cloudy for me.

5 seconds to go.

The men threatened me a little more, and handed me back the packet of chips. I couldn’t grip it and it fell on the road. Again.

The signal turned green.

The cars in front moved, following cars behind mine who had to maneuver around our two cars. The two men walked back leisurely to their cars, turned on the engine and drove off.

A loud collective noise of many horns suddenly brought me back to the present. The light was green. The beggars had by now lined up on the road divider waiting for the next set of cars to stop. The black car on my left was long gone. And the packet of chips lay in front of my left front tyre, waiting to be squashed.

“Next time I’ll definitely do what I think I should’ve done” I promised myself, and put my car in gear.