“What
can one person do?”
This
is the theme song of India, circa 2011. It is there in our airwaves, living,
breathing and engulfing the citizenry in a convenient cloak of invisibility and
irresponsibility. The system is bad. The British left behind a servile mess.
Corruption is a given. What can one person do?
And
yet I have never seen Indians look so good and potent! Is it Manmohanomics or the
Cricketing empire come lately or Bollywood gone global? One has to just lean
back and take in a critical eyeful. There is something new about the 'desis'. A
degree of self-assuredness, a level of ease with their layered culture and
ethos. Some kind of a balance has been struck between a world view and a
provincial preoccupation. An international education and ancient traditions no
longer seem mutually exclusive. Indians are better dressed, equipped and kitted
than I remember.
But
of course, in the truest of local spirit, we have not chucked any of our old
habits. We continue to be plagued with that typical disrespect for each other.
We are intimidated by money and power. We strive for contacts and connections.
A man devoid of all of these is as good as Casper the ghost…cute but useless. As
to this thing called development, who is to decide what its definition proposes
to include. A large segment of India believes they are developed and have been
so for long. Traditional lifestyles sans displacements have kept man alive in
this part of the world for centuries. What brand of development does this
country need to wear is a moot point.
Incredibly,
under an evolving national self-belief and the race for power, peace and energy
there still pulsate those fatalistic four words, “What can one do?” There is an
abdication of personal responsibility in our cultural subconscious. We believe
in our hearts and not too very deep down that we are truly powerless in the
larger picture. So much is going on in the average citizen’s life, where is the
time for some pointless civil affairs. What is one incident of civility going
to achieve? The typical household in the country is seesawing between power
outages, voltage fluctuations, menopausal cable connections and temperamental
domestic help. Dry taps and poor service kills whatever spirit is left at the
end of the daily rotor blade spin.
Then
again, not everyone has reason enough to turn Citizen Journalist. It is the few
and far between who have fires of reformation licking at their vitals. After
all, one has got to be connected and at it to be a twitter activist. Blogging again
needs time and application and engagement. The mere chore of getting through
the day in this heat is enough to sap the edgiest home-grown. The popular
mandate says that unless laws are implemented fairly and squarely, what can one
person really do.
Nothing
could be further from the truth. Try being the only one to slow down at the
minor zebra crossing red light. Magically enough, you will smell burning rubber
as the vehicles following you sheepishly come screeching to a halt. Had you
sailed through, the city grand prix would have gone on unabated. In a room full
of windbags doling out ‘gyan’ on how the country stinks, hear a lone voice beg
to disagree. Indians scramble in the face of dissent….the bluster dissolves
like lipstick left on a sunny dashboard when challenged. Protest bad service
over the shop counter and see the metamorphosis of indifference into
supplication.
Every
heartfelt gesture, every honest word spoken with conviction, every letter
written from the heart has an incredible domino power.
When
I look back, the events that stand out in my mind are those that had to do with
lone rangers.
We
all live our humdrum lives, gong to work, driving back, getting to bed,
fighting sloth, making an effort and believing we are not in much of a position
to influence all that much. My memorable
vignettes however, have all got to do with individual people who touched my life in
special ways.
A colleague who welcomed me warmly on my first day of work when
the rest made it clear that I would have to make my place. A mere acquaintance that
reached out and held my hand in a moment of crisis. A family member who did not
judge but stood beside me when I was in a spot. A friend who kept her word and
did not let me down. An email from a college mate that recharged my battery. A
time when every adult present was grabbing from the table and a child stepped
up to ask if he could help get them anything! A phone call from a parent saying
their child loves my class.
One
thought, one word, one person reaching out, one grand effort……the course of
mankind’s progress or regress has always been determined by one person to begin
with. The laws of motion, the discovery of zero, the fall of Rome, the
invention of capacitor and the atomic bomb, the civil rights movement, the
concept of human rights, the idea of evolution….the power of one.
It
is always one! The one.....
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