42 Katraj, A Journey of Dreams. Part 1.
42 Katraj, A journey
of Dreams. Part 1
Nilesh woke up, as the alarm snoozed. He looked around and
saw through the window, the sky was lit by pre-dawn hue. He got up stretched
the body and went straight to the toilet. Meanwhile his wife Sarita got up and fired
the stove. She then put the container filled with water for boiling, when Nilesh
came out of toilet, the scent of kerosene filled his nostrils. He
emptied the container in the iron bucket lying about and headed back to
bathroom. His wife started boiling water for tea and yawned while the flames of
stove danced. Nilesh came out of bathroom, prayed, went to the bedroom when he
came out of bed room he was ready to go.
He quietly sipped his tea and asked his wife as to what
vegetables to bring on the way back to home. Opened the door to the front,
where his Hero Honda SS model bike stood. He cleaned it with the cloth stashed
in the cavity of dashboard, then kicked his bike, which started in one. He
remembered the day he got selected for the job as a conductor in the PMPML and his
father gifted him this bike. A faint smiled rose on his lips very subtle to be
seen, he accelerated thrice and went to his office in Nigdi.
This was the everyday routine of Nilesh, this routine never
broke as Nilesh was one of the contractual worker, he worked every day. This
was his fourth year. Upon reaching the office Nilesh went to collect his purse
and machine. Got his number punched and was assigned to his usual bus route. He
then went straight to the only handcart that was making tea outside the
depot.
Sakharam, the bus driver, rather a stuffy fellow, who
sported a ‘talwar’ cut upon his upper
lip, didn’t really make up for the image of a man with style. Nilesh found him
chatting with the hawker.
“Have we got the bus.?”
“Yes, I kept it on hum, Nilesh this bus is old, can’t say if
it can make it a day more”
Nilesh was quiet, he knew the answer, there was nothing to
be done. The buses were rusted and PMPML was bleeding money but the lives of
people like Nilesh and Sakharam were on the line. If bus broke down, its best
thing they wished for but what if the brakes fail or bus catches fire. Even the
tires were remolded to the times where you can count the circles of rubber like
you count the circles of tree trunk to determine the age.
Often the patch work done on tires wearied to the extent of resulting
tires bursting in mid travel but this was routine.
“Sakharam, did your mother get admitted in the YCM ?” Nilesh
asked.
Sakharam sighed. “can’t say if the old lady can make, we are
just waiting for her light to extinguish.”
Nilesh nodded, it was true, the old lady of Sakharam, was
suffering from cancer and since the doctor said that it was very late when they
admitted her to the hospital, the family of Sakharam had completely given up
hope. It was very difficult to feed a family of six as in case of
Sakharam. When his salary was meagre as of other bus drivers on the contract.
The permanent status was yet to received but for five years the salary remained
same.
When Sakharam finished his tea, they went to the bus which
was still humming. Nilesh Changed the boards to the usual route. ‘42 Katraj’ .
The bus made to its first stop, hardly a passenger at this
time of the day. Nilesh did not even ring the bell, even if they miss a person,
another shuttle was in 5 minutes. Nilesh was consumed by the thought that his
four-year-old girl Madhuri was to be admitted to a Local playgroup, the
business of education was in full swing in Pune. The kids were not admitted in schools
for their junior KG, if they miss out playgroup. For the kid, his or her formal
education started as early as 2.5 yrs in some cases. Nilesh did not approve of
the method, he wanted Madhuri to enjoy her childhood, immediate pressure of any
sort would not be in any betterment of child’s growth. It would destroy her
ability to cope with situations further in life. It was not that Nilesh was
educated, he rather was barely educated with only 12th pass out in
his hand, the colors in his report card were not really flying. Yet he knew
this because of his interaction one fine day with psychologist Preeti Bhat, who
was travelling to Shivajinagar from Chinchwad. The question that was haunting
him, was where would he arrange the fees for the playgroup.
The bus took a turn at Nigdi Stop, a fair number of
passengers boarded the bus and Nilesh got up for his duty, upon giving a look
at the passengers Nilesh counted nine and the fair would now be at the most
ninety. It was one of other miseries for the contract workers, they needed to
complete a ticketing target. But the route no 42 was a busiest of the routes of
PMPML, the targets were met by 10 am In the morning and for this very reason.
Nilesh paid a hefty amount to get transferred to this route. The allotment to
route would change every three months and the routes were bided upon. Since a
consistent target completion record qualified for the permanent Job. Those who
were permanent took different bidding on the least traveled ones.
He strolled the gangway, asking for the stops of passengers,
handing them their tickets. He made a turn when he reached the driver seat. He
casted a look counted the passengers and the money. Then sat at the seat that
was near. The fees for playgroup was just one of the many things on his mind.
Nilesh just took a ‘Bhisi’. Twenty thousand was to be paid in equal installments of
12 months. Bhisi’s provided relief
to men like Nilesh, on whom the financial institutions closed the doors. Having
taken the Bhisi, he would not have
the opportunity to go for it again. The money was to be arranged in some other way.
By the time Chinchwad stop arrived the sun was seen peeking
at the horizon. Nilesh got up as the morning rush of school and college goers
boarded making all the different noises. It made his voice so thin that, even
though he exploded on the brat for standing at the door, only he could have
heard that, Last year a student met with a fatal accident due to standing at
the door and the conductor was held responsible. Nilesh would not risk his job,
now when he was so close to permanency. He again yelled to brat and made his
way through the passengers and angrily caught the brat with one arm pulled him
inside and rang the bell. He then turned to the exit door at the back sighed
with relief that it was empty. He made round calling for tickets.
Despite the difficulties, Nilesh loved his job, he did over
time to provide for his family but he loved it because it gave him the sense of
accomplishment. Every day he would run into hundreds of people and at longer
stops would observe passengers for their eccentricities. Nilesh loved rules
above all, he never let any lady standing at his bus, except for when the seats
especially reserved for the ladies were full, on times he would instruct the
males passengers to vacate the seat as it was meant for the lady. The respect
for the ladies was perhaps due to his situation at home. He was in the company
of four women at home his mother, wife, four-year-old Madhuri and a new born
Lata. Not to forget the fifth one his sister, who will come for Sundays as she
lived nearby.
The fly over bridge at Shivajinagar was newly constructed,
that brought a relief from the traffic jams but it was difficult for the buses
to make way through the side road to pick up the passengers as the hawkers
encroached every available part of foot path. The passengers having nowhere to
stand, sometimes stood on the road. Next busiest stop Deccan was as expected
full of college goers. The only thing Nilesh worried was that this adrenaline
packed kids did something out of mischief. Most difficult to tackle was the
student pass system. PMPML issued passes to students every month and conductors
were responsible to check and punch them but the situation on the busiest
routes were that most conductors never asked students for the passes and some
students took this to their advantage. They would if asked for the ticket will call
out ‘Pass’ and the conductor would move on. Nilesh had special techniques to
tackle this issue he first very fast ticket the passengers and would check
every student for the pass this ensured that he was never penalized for not
ticketing, at surprise bus checks that checked whether the conductor issued the
tickets or did overcharge a ticket. Of course, the surprised stayed only for
the first trip and from the second trip the conductors knew where the checker
were and sometimes the people who are regular and familiar with conductors are
let off without tickets.
Many people come and go at a route, who may have different
problems in life. The fact that they travelled was to tackle these problems
every day. One fine day Nilesh encountered one such old lady in her nineties
the lady barely walked. Still she was travelling to Katraj to see her son, who
was unable to pick her up from Shivajinagar since he was late to the office. Nilesh
was angry that who will leave his mother like this, but angrier that a lady
like her should be travelling at this age. Many such stories were a part of
Nilesh’s Life.
The bus made it to the second last busiest stop Swargate
here mostly laborers boarded the bus with all their tools they would travel to
the fringes of the city where most of the real estate was under construction. They
lived almost secret life. Nobody noticed these laborer’s or cared for them,
they seemed to disappear in the womb of city as the dusk came about and only to
be seen by flocks at the appointed at ‘Majur Adda’ in the morning. Nilesh always thought of
were these throngs of men and women came from. They comprised a heterogeneous
mix of the Indian population. These are the people making the city as is seen
today, building the complexes, high rises, the budget homes around the fringes
of Pune. Nilesh too thought of buying a flat at Shirval some ten to fifteen
kilometers from Katraj, here the rates of real estate were affordable than in
Pune or its fringe.
Bus reached the Rajiv Gandhi Zoological park the last but
one stop. Nilesh Always wanted to bring Madhuri to zoo but, never got the time,
often when in evening the zoo was full of children with their parents and
grandparents. He missed his dad. Had his dad were alive today, he would have taken
Madhuri to zoo every day but that wasn’t how it was to be.
The bus reached Katraj. The last of the passengers alighted.
Only few passengers travelled the length of the route. The distance from Nigdi
to Katraj was almost 30 kms. Had they been some distant villages. The distance
would have been great but within the city, distance never seemed to be great
Pune was rapidly developing. Every six months there was new facade would be
coming up at every suburb.
Nilesh and Sakharam, alighted the bus and went in to the office
to punch their vehicle.
Glossary.: -
·
Nigdi,
Chinchwad, Shivajinager, Deccan, Swargate, Katraj: Parts of Pune City.
·
PMPML: Pune City’s transport facility.
·
Talwar: A curved sword single edged, used in India
during medieval times.
·
Talwar
cut: A moustache style sported by men, after it was made Popular by Bhagat
Singh, and Chandrashekhar Azad, Indian revolutionaries, during the India’s Fight
for freedom, from British
colonialism.
Passes or Pass: A monthly Bus Pass issued by PMPML.
·
Bhisi – An
unrecognized microfinance, setup by the group of people for financing amongst
themselves. The finance capital is built by every month contribution of a specified
amount. The member can avail the finance by drawing upon a lottery if the borrower
is more than one member. In case of single borrower, the amount is lent on
equal installment basis.
·
Majoor
Adda : A place where every day laborer’s gather for work, where upon the
are chose by the construction supervisor’s as per requirement.
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