It was a few days ago when I was rudely awakened from my mid-morning catnap [one of many, which include mid afternoon, mid evening, mid mid morning all culminating in 40 wink long hibernation.] by an incessant banging on my gate.
Looking outside, I saw a man in khakis, smelling strongly of gaur-mint [the complete antithesis of sweat, blood and tears]. “What do you want?” I cautiously asked.
“You had called, hadn’t you?” On seeing my puzzled expression, he gestured to the truck behind him with BWSSB written on it in big bold letters [That is the Bangalore Water and Sewerage Supply Board for the uninitiated.].
“What? Oh!” I suddenly remembered the emergency call I had placed to the BWSSB a few days back. Well, I WAS justified in not remembering the call, today couldnt have been more different from that day, with the sun shining hard and bone-dry roads,poetry-weather and all that.
On That day, my street was flooded knee-deep with rain water mixed with all unsavoury stuff, due to blocked drains by friendly neighbors due to ‘the smell’.
Since we Janaagraha citizens Help Ourselves, we decided to open the stormwater drains. We succeeded on SWD 1 and 2 but instead of water flowing back into 3, there was water and a plethora of solutes, suspended particles and floating objects being spewed out!
Go To The Government, suggested someone wisely.
Hence the call.
“We’ll send someone soon….” was the last we had heard of them. We had then Helped Ourselves, with a little from God’s side with sunny days that left the road bone-dry.
And here was Our Saviour from the Sewage, our Drain God, waiting to show his expertise on blocked drains.
The shock of waking up still remained and I practised all the sarcastic lines I knew on the gaurmint man, who went away, truck and all, visibly embarassed.
Is this Vintage Bangalore, and is this story going to become one of those reserved to start conversations with [it has both the Elements, the weather and government, ideal kickstarter] , or to render at family gatherings or to guests who seem to think that you have it all?
What were the officials playing at? Don’t they KNOW that these problems can be sorted out only while they last, which is not very long?
Aren’t we ever going to be ashamed of our pace? Will this be shrugged off with a ‘we are like this only’?[probably will, what else we can do, ya?]
When is it going to be fashionable to be on time, to not jump lanes, to not jaywalk, to pay taxes on time?
Miniskirts may come and go on Middle East streets, but this is one fad that will take a long time to come.
Only hope it takes a long long long time to go.