Summer Heat



The clime was sweltering.Some allege that the depths of hell are
sweltering.Small wonder then that delhi is sweltering,they nonchalantly
observe.

The other day,i had met another guy who had his own theory to propound
regarding the delhi heat.  That day was,as usual,sweltering.I had to go
to the Delhi Emporium,and it was a hot 4:00 in the evening.I was
standing on a kerb waiting for an auto.  With a single dynamic
flourish,i managed to mop off a niggling drop of sweat off my brow AND
flag an auto.  It must have been a pretty impressive flourish  coz i
could hear gasps of appreciation from certain bystanders.But we masters
of the varied arts,like dual use dynamic flourishes for instance,get
used to the attention.  The auto cruised to a halt.  A striking
characteristic of delhi,is the customary haggling of the fare with the
auto driver.  "Thirty Bhai",i said.  He shook his head gravely "Pipty
saab" "Thirty Five",i haggled.  "Forty five",he softened.  "Chalo
forty",i said and climbed on.  Which was when i realised i hadnt told
him the destination yet,which fact seemed to strike the haggler at the
same time,resulting in him scratching the back of his head
sheepishly.
Which reminds one of a related incident I was dining with an
old aquaintance of mine, who was a theatre artist or something.His
long rambling quickly brought the glaze to my eyes wherein i contemplate
upon the moorings of the universe at large.Then,somewhere in between,he
mentioned the dreaded four letter word.I refer to "auto" of course.Such
strong words at moments of weakness do tend to unsettle one.With a
start,i came down from my reverie with a sputtering "Twenty ke liye
chaloge?" 
My acquaintance took a brief interlude from his interesting
monologue about whatever he was monologueing about,looked at me with an
eyebrow raised, and then resumed his monolgue.  Refined artists,have to
after all,frequently make do with plebeian audiences, and one must,so to
speak,make do with what one has.  And i too,went back to that glaze,that
contemplation....

To come back to the mains,it was a sheepish second or two on realising
that i had haggled over the fare before even telling the driver the
destination.  But we kumars are a quick going lot.So i just told him the
destination,haggled over the fares afresh, and started forth.  But not
before waving to my bystanding fans on the kerb.For some reason they
just stood with their mouths open and didnt wave back.It must be the
shock of parting with a maestro,i reckoned.

Reclining,i closed my eyes,when my contemplations were rudely broken by
a grunt...  a bellow even.  "You know saab,why Delhi is so hot?",the
driver asked.  I admitted to a marked lack of knowledge in that
direction."Tis is because there is a curse on the city ",he said
ominously.  "A curse,because the people here dont care for us poor.It is
the indifference and apathy towards us,i tell you",he said bitterly.

I recalled a breakfast conversation with an aquaintance who berated the
so called "poor" for Delhi's power scenario.Tis coz they steal power
that we have such a dismal power scenario,he carped.

I pointed that out to the driver.  "Tcha"he said,spitting pan on the
road, and wiggled  in his seat in a manner that seemed suspiciously like
warming up to a nice long monologue.I gulped in palpable terror.  "The
so called super rich...dont they steal.Big factories...dont they steal.
All that with the connivance of the political biggies.You look up to
those thieves coz they are the so called super-rich.  The poor steal you
say.How much can they steal.An entire slumhood cant consume in a year or
many years what the factories steal in a day", he spattered.

He seemed to have a great pique towards humanity at large.We kumars are
of an empathic disposition.We chip in with spades where there is a need
to build.  "You seem to be raring to tell me your story", i rhetorically
and rather resignedly observed.

"Its a long story", he said platitudinally.  I shrugged in resignation.I
was getting used to these long monologues.

"Saab all i wanted was my own lil jhopdi," and i have lost my entire
life in its pursuit",he said with rancor.  
"I saw a scheme in the papers
about a low cost housing scheme for the working poor by the government.
But Saab i went to the address in the paper,where they directed me to
another place,from there to yet another.Twas an odd month later that i
came full circle back to the address in the paper.  
"Saab", i pleaded
with the clerk "saab i am a married man with lil children...saab..i fall at
your feet"i said and fell prostrate at his feet.  
He kicked me in the chin.  
"This is a leather shoe,you wretch" he berated,"dont drool over
it" 
"plebeians " he even muttered under his breath.  
"Saab ,please can i awail of the that housing scheme" 
The clerk became quiet and stared into
the distance and told me, "Come tommorrow with two thousand rupees",he
said 
"But the housing scheme says we will get it for a thousand rupees"
i said.  
He had the security guards kick me in the chin this time 
"Throw this urchin out", he ordered

I gathered up all i had and went with the 2 grand to the clerk,the next
day.  He raised his eyebrow.  He seemed surprised to see me there.He
snatched the 2 grand from my hand,"Come tomorrow " he said 
"Saab any receipt veceipt" i asked 
"Come tomorrow and i`ll give the house papers
itself",he bellowed.  I would have argued more,bu the security guards
hovered menacingly over my shoulder and i had to go quietly.  When i
came the next day,the officer wasnt there.He was transfered i was told
Even after all this i didnt give up saab...Oh i didnt at all 
I contacted a cousin
of mine .He was in the government too.I asked him for help.  He shook
his head gravely."It is difficult to do anything without proof.You
should have come to me initially itself",he said 

"As it happens i can
help you...gimme 1.5 grand and i`ll get you that house " he said But the
scheme says only 1000 rupees,i controverted.  "500 for bribing the path
through", he said nonchalantly "But  where will i get that kind of money
from" i pleaded "Lucky for you..i am there", said The next day he took
me to a doctor.The doctor diagnosed me and told me that i had one extra
kidney.I was a lucky man he told me.He told me that i could sell it for
1.5 grand.I looked at my cousin.He squeezed my shoulder and smiled.  It
was in the after-operaton convalescing period that i heard.  My wife had
run away with my cousin.I couldnt even buy her a house,she had
groused.She had even taken the kids with her."

The driver came to the present with a shake of his head.  "Saab now all
i have left is this auto.",he said flatly "Am thinking of committing
suicide" , he said with a sudden finality.  "Now..." he added while
drumming the wheel sinisterly.  We kumars are famed for our
scintillating prescence of mind "If he commits suicide now,he takes me
with him",i quickly figured.  In all the accidents it is the back seat
sucker who hits the bucket first so to speak.  There is something in
infallible logic that appeals to man.  At least that is what plato
said.And i was a great believer of plato.At least now,if not earlier So
i pointed out the possiblity of my bonking out too,if he acts in an
unreasonable manner and commits suicide now.  he laughed sinisterly....it 
had an evil ring to it.  
"Good...so thats one down of
the hypocritical rich" he chuckled.  
"I dont even own a lear jet", I pointed out.  It left him unfazed 
"they say it is a straight jet to
heaven...dunno whether it is a lear jet tho" he joked 
As i had alluded
to before,we kumars have an awe-inspiring prescence of mind.So i just
jumped out of the  auto.I could almost see my ancestors nodding their
approval at their descendant having upkept the high family values so to
speak.  As it happened,the concrete road took that moment to get all
lovey dovey with me.For a long 10 seconds the darned concrete road was
all over me.  And before i conked out, a six foot slab of concrete came
towards me and observed,"coool..that was concretely radical"

I opened my eyes in a hospital ward.The auto driver seemed to have
slinked away.He must have reasoned out the impossiblity of committing
suicide  near a madman lying sprawled on a concrete road and bawling at
the top of his voice.  I had escaped away with a few minor injuries..but
still had to spend a week in the hospital.Luckily,i had a roommate.A
cute looking female who had slipped in her bathtub because of a
recalcitrant soapcake.  On being asked about the reason for my state,i
just divulged a few details like jumping(literally) to the rescue of a
very close individual(i.e. myself) from the clutches of a madman(the
auto driver) For some reason,it got her pretty impressed.  

We passed
away the time by telling jokes to each other.  "You know i saw a
uproarious comedy movie a week back",she gushed "It had a cool scene
where an auto driver tells a major sob story to a sucker passenger
involving lost kidneys,a lost wife and a housing scheme." I perked up my
ears.This sounded vaguely familiar.Except,of course,for that sucker
passenger part.As i might have no doubt alluded to,we kumars are the
defining word in intellect.  I listened on.  She chuckled,"And then the
driver frightens the passenger by saying he is going to commit suicide
right then and there and take him down along with him"

I could almost empathise with the poor fella.The passenger i mean.  "And
then...did he jump out or anything?",i asked 
"Hah! why would a hero do something as dumb as that."
I dont think she noticed me flinch painfully
"The sob story was a fake,the driver was a crorepati coz of a lottery he
had won that day and in his exuberance he was playing a prank.  And for
the efforts of the passenger to desist him from committing suicide,he
gifts him a lakh..." 
I didnt hear the rest of the story.  I had fainted.