On My Mind

It is the USA of the 1960s. Segregation of blacks in public places is the policy of the government. Blacks have different taps in restaurants, there are different queues for them. In the buses, they are to give up their seats for a white gentleman and move to the back. This goes on. Except for one fine day, when a certain Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on a bus. She was tired, more than the white gentleman standing next to her. Ultimately she was thrown out of the bus. Is this to be the end of it? Back in India, a barrister came back from South Africa in 1915. The country was ruled by the British. Freedom was a dream not officially recognized yet by the Indian National Congress. The barrister undertook a tour of the entire country. The goal was to understand the pulse of the nation in making. The first action he took was Champaran Satyagraha where all he could do was save interests of a group of peasants who were forced to cultivate indigo. But the journey had started. It ...

Nothing represents the essence of Delhi like its metro. It is chaotic while being passed off as orderly. It is hustling and bustling with all sorts of people from all walks of life. But it has something which emboldens you. In its own ways, it prepares you for the life ahead. More importantly, it empowers you to be what you could only imagine once. The subtle transition of human beings from the solid state outside the metro coaches, to the gaseous state inside, trying to squeeze in whatever little is available in the name of space, is mind boggling. On an average day, I find many characters inside the metro. This one guy always jumps the queue, saves 7.6 seconds and then waits for his bag to come out of the X-Ray machine while you collect yours before him, because, well the conveyor belt doesn't allow the bags to jump. Once you check in and wait for the train to arrive, you see another guy. He has identified his coach and he follows it. If need be, he will walk miles to get ...