Embrace by Subhajit Ghosh SignUp
Boloji.com

Channels

In Focus

 
Analysis
Cartoons
Education
Environment
Opinion
Photo Essays
 
 

Columns

 
A Bystander's Diary
Business
Random Thoughts
 
 

Our Heritage

 
Architecture
Astrology
Ayurveda
Buddhism
Cinema
Culture
Festivals
Hinduism
History
People
Places
Sikhism
Spirituality
 
 

Society & Lifestyle

 
Health
Parenting
Perspective
Recipes
Society
Teens
Women
 
 

Creative Writings

 
Book Reviews
Computing
Ghalib's Corner
Humor
Individuality
Literary Shelf
Love Letters
Memoirs
Quotes
Stories
Travelogues
Workshop
 
 
Memoirs Share This Page
Embrace
by Subhajit Ghosh Bookmark and Share

Capital Glows and Blues 

It was yet another trip I had to make to the Metro hospital. It was getting chilly these last few days in the month of October. A wide range of tests needed to be done for my ailing dad, and the visit to the hospital was made to do them.

Even though most of the tests and referral advices were over within a few hours, Dr. RG advised keeping Dad in the hospital during the night.

I had to stay back in the hospital with Dad. During the evening, longing for a cup of tea to refresh myself, I stepped out of the hospital gate and looked around. Soon, I had settled down on one of the benches of a tea seller.

I looked at the surroundings. It was quite a busy thoroughfare, and glitzy cars emitting bright lights zoomed on both ways.  Tea was served to me, and I took a sip or two. A six-seven year old boy came to the shop with his younger sister and teasingly performed an act to take away a small sized packet of potato chips. Without actually carrying it out, he quickly stepped inside a dingy shanty adjacent to the shop.

It seemed that the boy was from a poor family of clay modelers. Exquisite images of various Hindu Gods and Goddess were lined up outside the hut. Works of pottery with intricate design which adorn the homes of the rich and the upper middle class figured in the collection.

Humble_Poor_Boy

(Image src: http://varunjoshi.deviantart.com/art/Humble-Poor-Boy-139166928)

I wondered how these families would/could survive the approaching bitter winters of the National Capital Region, the first spell of which was already evident. Optimistically, I reasoned that these artisans and devotees of various Hindu deities could fend off such adverse situations only with Divine blessings.

I returned back to the hospital. There were six patient beds in this general ward, of which my Dad occupied one of them. A couple of them were empty. Soon dinner was served to my father. A little while later, I too had my dinner from my Tiffin box which contained home made food.

There was a single TV in this room, and channels were being shifted around to zero in on some viewable stuff by the inmates. The News Channels were filled with news of Formula I race currently on at Gautam Buddh International Circuit. Some of the spectators commented on how thrilled they were to be watching this dare devilry sport first time in India where race drivers touched 350-400 kmph, trying to outdo each other in this race, usually with a nail biting finish giving thrills galore to the lover of the sport.  Whether it can give cricket a run for its money in the country only time will unfold.

Quite naturally, the well being of the artisan boy would be forgotten by our high and the mighty and almost all others in a position to bring about a change in the lives of the dispossessed. He would continue to live in that shanty braving extreme heat and cold in a corner of the city cheek by jowl with the Capital of the Nation. On the other hand, our international prestige would considerably have been upped manifold by Formula I Racing which is becoming an annual event.

Motorsports: FIA Formula One World Championship 2011, Grand Prix of India

(Image Src: http://trackreviewers.com/reviews/buddh-international-circuit)

Thus, the divide between the two India’s continues…

Share This:
24-Dec-2012
More by :  Subhajit Ghosh
 
Views: 755      Comments: 0




Name *
Email ID
 (will not be published)
Comment
Characters
Verification Code*
Can't read? Reload
Please fill the above code for verification.
 
Top | Memoirs



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
2018 All Rights Reserved
 
No part of this Internet site may be reproduced without prior written permission of the copyright holder
.