I don’t care if they shoot me down after this. I don’t care if the Government bans me from writing on public blogs. I don’t care if you guys reading this verbally abuse me. I don’t care if I am banned from my nationality. For the millionth time I just wanna tell the world that I am not proud to be an Indian.
I am no different. I am not out of my mind. I’m just like each one of the billion people who call themselves Indians. The same people who abuse the country, it’s politicians, corruption etc. countless times during the day and once an year they chant, ‘Vande Mataram’.
I am no different. I am a part of the lakhs of students in the country. The same set of students who work very hard in studies just to sit for an exam that could be their ticket out of the country. These same set of students feel for India. These are the same students who go sentimental after watching Rang De Basanti. These are the same students who then forget all morals and commit crime. These are the same students who work at top notch MNCs, buy from International brands, eat at Mc Donalds. And they still say, ‘Mera Bharat Mahaan’.
I am no different. I hate it all. I don’t pretend that I like the nation, like you. I hate the national anthem being played at movie theaters. I hate the roads filled with dirty water. I hate the filthy politicians. I hate our so called system.
I hate it. I hate it.
While at Delhi I had the opinion that it was the auto-rikshaws there which were like little monsters on three wheels. And then I moved to Faridabad and my opinion crashed like a typical Microsoft Operating system does. A ride on one of these auto-rikshaws in Faridabad is a ride through hell. If you think the ones in Delhi were unsafe and rash, you haven’t been on something like this in Faridabad. Let me explain the whole ride.
The first part is the most difficult one. Trying to convince an auto-rikshaw driver to take you to your destination is harder than convincing your girlfriend. You can either give out a lot of smiling Gandhis to these guys or you take the cheaper option of sharing the ride with others. You’re screwed either way.
The ride begins once there are more people sitting than the auto-rikshaw can actually accommodate. Picture this. There are two people on the left side of the driver and two on the right. That’s five on a seat which is supposed to be for one guy. The driver is sandwiched between these passengers and just manages to steer through the insane city traffic. Behind the cockpit, the scene isn’t any better. While three people are sitting on the seats, three more are sitting opposite to them. No not on any cushion but on hard steel. Yes it’s painful and cruel to the poor asses. Everyone sitting inside stinks. And they really stink badly. At first you wonder it’s coming from the outside and then you take a look at the guy next to you. His face is self explanatory. His expressions go like, “Yes dude, that’s me. I stink”.
Continue reading ‘Hell on Earth: Riding an Auto-rickshaw!’
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