During my, otherwise, painfully long journey to Bangalore(Oops....sorry again, I can't help it. I still ask rickshaw driver to take me Curzon Road or Wellingdon Hospital) from Nizamuddin, I realised many more thing. Even, I had a shock of my lifetime since arriving in Bangalore ( I resent.......the new spelling, it hardly makes any difference other than making the natives of the town more fundamentalists. Look what has happened to MUMBAI).
Hardly, there were any original Bangalorians in the train. Majority was of such diaspora of Indian origin who contributed most to make Bangalore what it is today.
You come out of the Railway Station/Airport, if you do not know Kannada you are doomed. No signage in any language that you are familiar with. I have been told, as I am staying with my 5 year old grand niece at Koramangala, that this is the area which is not on the priority list of Bangalore Administration. The reason of such apathy could not be more insulting to my country. As Koramangala is inhabited by immigrant people of non Kannada origin, all developments of civic amenities are delayed.
Anyway, I decided to tell you the incidents of my recent journey.( To your knowledge, my readers! I am not getting any younger. You have to bear with me for these diversions once in a while.)
I boarded the train at 8.50 PM and on the next lunch(in case, if you do not know......Railway has included the cost of your food, required during the journey, in your ticket) suddenly there was a stream of people from Pantry Car to the cubicle where I was. Reason? A young boy of 24/25 who recently joined a Delhi based company. He finished his studies from Bangalore, hails from UP and got a job in our national capital. He was coming back for only two days to collect his belongings.
Rest of us had no clue to such frantic movement to appease that boy. Finally I was told that he is the son of reasonably high profile Railway Officer, posted somewhere in UP. The boy in question was innocent, never boasted of his railway connection. He kept to himself from the moment he boarded the train. He was provided food with more variety in special crockery.
I presume, it was his Railway Officer Father who made no stone unturned to abuse his power to spoon feed his grown up son. This was not the only case of in that 2A coach. At one end of the same coach, there were some people who got that VIP treatment. Rest of us, the common man, received the a shabby food in microscopic quantity served in same old aluminum foil containers. At the end of the journey, the boys from Pantry started knocking everyone except those VIPs, for tips.
Man, you have got to see it to believe it! If you decline to accede to their request, they will give you such a glance that you would forced to remember Sita's end and wish earth to split.
Why this naked dance of abuse of power? Madam Railway Minister, do you have power and political courage to weed out this corruption brewing up between Railway Officials and such unscrupulous Businessmen? Hello! Hello!! Are you listening?
Hardly, there were any original Bangalorians in the train. Majority was of such diaspora of Indian origin who contributed most to make Bangalore what it is today.
You come out of the Railway Station/Airport, if you do not know Kannada you are doomed. No signage in any language that you are familiar with. I have been told, as I am staying with my 5 year old grand niece at Koramangala, that this is the area which is not on the priority list of Bangalore Administration. The reason of such apathy could not be more insulting to my country. As Koramangala is inhabited by immigrant people of non Kannada origin, all developments of civic amenities are delayed.
Anyway, I decided to tell you the incidents of my recent journey.( To your knowledge, my readers! I am not getting any younger. You have to bear with me for these diversions once in a while.)
I boarded the train at 8.50 PM and on the next lunch(in case, if you do not know......Railway has included the cost of your food, required during the journey, in your ticket) suddenly there was a stream of people from Pantry Car to the cubicle where I was. Reason? A young boy of 24/25 who recently joined a Delhi based company. He finished his studies from Bangalore, hails from UP and got a job in our national capital. He was coming back for only two days to collect his belongings.
Rest of us had no clue to such frantic movement to appease that boy. Finally I was told that he is the son of reasonably high profile Railway Officer, posted somewhere in UP. The boy in question was innocent, never boasted of his railway connection. He kept to himself from the moment he boarded the train. He was provided food with more variety in special crockery.
I presume, it was his Railway Officer Father who made no stone unturned to abuse his power to spoon feed his grown up son. This was not the only case of in that 2A coach. At one end of the same coach, there were some people who got that VIP treatment. Rest of us, the common man, received the a shabby food in microscopic quantity served in same old aluminum foil containers. At the end of the journey, the boys from Pantry started knocking everyone except those VIPs, for tips.
Man, you have got to see it to believe it! If you decline to accede to their request, they will give you such a glance that you would forced to remember Sita's end and wish earth to split.
Why this naked dance of abuse of power? Madam Railway Minister, do you have power and political courage to weed out this corruption brewing up between Railway Officials and such unscrupulous Businessmen? Hello! Hello!! Are you listening?
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