“Mere bache yeh sab kaam nahi karenge.” my kaamwali bai pondered aloud as she mopped the floor. “Wo sab school jate hai. Padh likh lenge, achi naukri mil jaegi. Tumhare bachon ko apna kaam khud karma padega” she announced. “Acha hai, acha hai” I replied, not knowing what else to say.
I pored over my morning newspaper, filled with reports of the financial turmoil in the US, the Fed Reserve bailout and chiefly about it’s impact on the jobs outsourced to India. Jobs which are not part of ‘core activities’, which need to be done but it’s ok if someone else would do them- for cheap. I glanced briefly at the outsourced mopping activity and returned to my newspaper. “Will I ever be able to say it?” I wondered. “Humare bachon ko quality education milta hai. Wo technically aur intellectually strong hai aur apna product khud banaenge. Tumhare bachon ko yeh outsourced kaam khud karne honge.” Will I ever say it? I don’t know. But one thing’s for sure- several deprived children- like my bai’s kids, will study hard and compete for jobs available in India- outsourced or not. I remember meeting a group of 7th grade kids on a football ground near my home last week. One of them ran a good 2 rounds of the 8 I usually do at the ground daily; he eagerly introduced me to his friends who were playing cricket in a corner. As the conversation shifted from sports to studies, I discovered that they studied at a govt. school; they loved the free khichdi provided for lunch daily and the kheer they got on some days! One of them excitedly ranted on the dozen 100 and 200 page notebooks they’d got, distributed free of cost by the owner of a local small scale factory. My little running companion interrupted him and asked me “ Tumhi kay shiklay?” (What have you studied?) “ Engineering”, I replied as his eyes glowed at the prospect. “Amhi pan engineer honar”(We too will become engineers) three of them replied in unision. “Hua. Pan running sodu naka”. (Do so, but don’t quit running) I replied as I took their leave.
Deprived of quality education on home turf, several Indians are pursuing higher education abroad. They are not different from the poor kids I met; they’re burdened with loans, but fuelled with ambition and a desire to become competent. They’ll graduate to join the likes of Microsoft and Goldman Sachs(it survived, I guess); in short they’ll join clients of the outsourcing industry. But will outsourcing ever stop? I doubt. They’ll be glad on the client side and we’ll be content with outsourced jobs. Sure my kaamwali’s kids won’t do any mopping; but someone else’s kids will. You cannot bridge all gaps but hey-on the brighter side, you’ll still have a job- all you have to do is compromise on the pay!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Gear5
Admist the noise of a dozen different engine sounds, I waited patiently at an important(and crowded) junction on J.M. road, Pune on a happening Saturday evening. I turned off the engine of my beloved old-model-CBZ(sadly out of production now.) The seconds counter below the red light read 93, yet half the engines were idling around, their owners wary of turning of their engines, never mind even the ones who had the enviable button start option. With nothing much to do, I looked around at my fellow road users. The rickshaw behind to my right was ferrying two pretty young things sporting cool T-shirts and hip jeans. One of them even wore shades (though I wonder why anyone would want those at 6:30 in the evening??) I checked if they were looking at me; they were not and even if they were, it wasn’t much use-they’d be gone in another 80 seconds. A quick glance around and I counted four couples perched closely on their bikes. The girls of course, like every other Pune girl had bundled their faces in Taliban-style scarves (They say it’s for the pollution. Really, not to ‘cover their faces’?). Plenty of cars idled at my right followed my a long line of cars I didn’t bother to study. The countdown reached 10. Napping engines awoke with a roar, rickshaw engines roared the loudest (hats off to their high treble engines). Clutch-Click-Gear1-Kickstart.Throttle.
As the signal turned a welcome green, I squeezed my way into every available inch, not allowing anyone the liberty of cutting me off. I’m a seasoned, rider on these city roads. I worked on the accelerator and clicked to gear 3, whizzing past Pizza Hut to my right and a crowded bus-stop to my left. I race past the 3 couples but could not beat the 4th fellow( have never come even close to beating a Karizma till date). Time to slow down as I see another red light glaring back. As I click into neutral and wait, I quickly watch new age nuclear families waiting outside McDonalds and a small groups of youngsters enjoying their quick-weekend-junk-fodder. The Crossword bookstore next door was also doing brisk business-I’m assuming there weren’t too many window shoppers browsing through books and CDs in there.
Another roar of engines (This time a bus peaked the decibel levels with its high- bass-grumble) and I got back to city-riding. Up the Garware bridge and onto a fully congested street. You will never want to be a pedestrian on this road ever, leave alone crossing, even walking on this road is not a safe exercise. I crawled past Champion sports on gear2-It’s one of the oldest and most reliable sports shops in Pune. Business is still run here the old Puneri way (Shop timings :10 am to 1 pm. 4 :30 pm to 8:30 pm. Mondays closed.). And yes, find your own innovative parking solution if you want to drop by for your sports gear please! I finally came to halt at Good Luck chowk( It’s named so after the Good Luck café to my left, the all time favorite of the old-time Punekars). From behind me a Piaggo’s engine tattered away and I found myself irritated by the noise, despite my helmet. Right ahead, I see a Honda Dio and a fit young lady, her face hidden beneath multiple layers of scarf of course. She was wearing low waist denims. Hey! Wait a second! What’s that? I see a partition. Just above the rim of her low waist denim. Ah, I get it now. They’re low butt jeans, must be the latest fashion. (It’s been three years since I’ve left college, I should have thought of that before). I look away, beyond the red signal. Diagonally across, was our very own Sagar Arcade, the ‘mall’ where you could buy ‘imported clothes’ and electronic goods. It once used to be a booming internet café hosting building- the entire first and second floors were let out for internet surfing and chating in 1998-99. From the second floor, a huge Career Launcher board seeked attention of onlookers. It’s the place where hundreds of students pay anything between 15k and 18k for CAT/GMAT/GRE and other ‘important’ examinations. I’m no different. I should’ve put all that time and money to good use and traveled across India by the now-efficient Indian Railways. To my left was Bhandarkar road which connected to Dilip Oaks-The GRE Coaching Destination and Status gym-where the famous Rocky Poonawala conducts Latin Dance classes.
Roar. I ‘ride’ into FC road- one of the most popular roads of Pune city. Cars parked on the leftmost lane, traffic on whatever was left. Click-Gear3-Cruise; I see valiant cyclists to my left. A little ahead I dodge brave-heart double seat cyclists. I see Vaishali hotel (the SPDP specialist) to my right where young ‘young girls’, young ‘young boys’ and families waiting for their turn to get inside and eat. FC road is always like this, bustling with activity, full of students eating, chatting, laughing and eying each other. Meanwhile, I better my own lowest speed of ‘feet still on the bike record’ and see IMS- another CAT training centre and Apache-the popular Pune pub. (Study hard, Booze harder you see. Beer is good for health, so cheers everybody!). If riding here is bad, parking is a horrid nightmare. Period. I move past Fergusson college to my left and the road decongests a little and – I crossed 35kmph for the first time in the last 20 minutes. Only to slow down and halt at Dnyaneshwar Paduka chowk. If you take a left you can reach Model colony, one of the older societies for rich Puneites. A right turn will take you to a humbler Modern college, my college and the WIE sports complex, the badminton/table-tennis coaching arena. (The Who’s Who of badminton visit the WIE sports complex every other month of the year).
I’m nearly at my wits end now. 156 cc, 12.5 bhp power going unutilized is unbearable. I open throttle. The countdown timer reads 3. Click- Gear1-Go. 2 more clicks. Weave, slide, glide-brake, naah I don’t collide, as I said earlier I’m a seasoned Pune rider. Click, click. 40 45 50 kmph. I slow down once under the flyover that runs across over head and takes traffic leftward to Aundh, Baner and Pashan and go into a divider-less stretch of a Shivajinagar street. I now feel like I’m riding a motorbike- the bike does feel like a CBZ. I’m going to use a subway and get onto the old Mumbai- Pune highway. Riding is much better there, you get enough free space to feed fuel through throttle. As I smile silently under my helmet I feel sane now- and why not? I’m in Gear 5- I AM, in my gear!
As the signal turned a welcome green, I squeezed my way into every available inch, not allowing anyone the liberty of cutting me off. I’m a seasoned, rider on these city roads. I worked on the accelerator and clicked to gear 3, whizzing past Pizza Hut to my right and a crowded bus-stop to my left. I race past the 3 couples but could not beat the 4th fellow( have never come even close to beating a Karizma till date). Time to slow down as I see another red light glaring back. As I click into neutral and wait, I quickly watch new age nuclear families waiting outside McDonalds and a small groups of youngsters enjoying their quick-weekend-junk-fodder. The Crossword bookstore next door was also doing brisk business-I’m assuming there weren’t too many window shoppers browsing through books and CDs in there.
Another roar of engines (This time a bus peaked the decibel levels with its high- bass-grumble) and I got back to city-riding. Up the Garware bridge and onto a fully congested street. You will never want to be a pedestrian on this road ever, leave alone crossing, even walking on this road is not a safe exercise. I crawled past Champion sports on gear2-It’s one of the oldest and most reliable sports shops in Pune. Business is still run here the old Puneri way (Shop timings :10 am to 1 pm. 4 :30 pm to 8:30 pm. Mondays closed.). And yes, find your own innovative parking solution if you want to drop by for your sports gear please! I finally came to halt at Good Luck chowk( It’s named so after the Good Luck café to my left, the all time favorite of the old-time Punekars). From behind me a Piaggo’s engine tattered away and I found myself irritated by the noise, despite my helmet. Right ahead, I see a Honda Dio and a fit young lady, her face hidden beneath multiple layers of scarf of course. She was wearing low waist denims. Hey! Wait a second! What’s that? I see a partition. Just above the rim of her low waist denim. Ah, I get it now. They’re low butt jeans, must be the latest fashion. (It’s been three years since I’ve left college, I should have thought of that before). I look away, beyond the red signal. Diagonally across, was our very own Sagar Arcade, the ‘mall’ where you could buy ‘imported clothes’ and electronic goods. It once used to be a booming internet café hosting building- the entire first and second floors were let out for internet surfing and chating in 1998-99. From the second floor, a huge Career Launcher board seeked attention of onlookers. It’s the place where hundreds of students pay anything between 15k and 18k for CAT/GMAT/GRE and other ‘important’ examinations. I’m no different. I should’ve put all that time and money to good use and traveled across India by the now-efficient Indian Railways. To my left was Bhandarkar road which connected to Dilip Oaks-The GRE Coaching Destination and Status gym-where the famous Rocky Poonawala conducts Latin Dance classes.
Roar. I ‘ride’ into FC road- one of the most popular roads of Pune city. Cars parked on the leftmost lane, traffic on whatever was left. Click-Gear3-Cruise; I see valiant cyclists to my left. A little ahead I dodge brave-heart double seat cyclists. I see Vaishali hotel (the SPDP specialist) to my right where young ‘young girls’, young ‘young boys’ and families waiting for their turn to get inside and eat. FC road is always like this, bustling with activity, full of students eating, chatting, laughing and eying each other. Meanwhile, I better my own lowest speed of ‘feet still on the bike record’ and see IMS- another CAT training centre and Apache-the popular Pune pub. (Study hard, Booze harder you see. Beer is good for health, so cheers everybody!). If riding here is bad, parking is a horrid nightmare. Period. I move past Fergusson college to my left and the road decongests a little and – I crossed 35kmph for the first time in the last 20 minutes. Only to slow down and halt at Dnyaneshwar Paduka chowk. If you take a left you can reach Model colony, one of the older societies for rich Puneites. A right turn will take you to a humbler Modern college, my college and the WIE sports complex, the badminton/table-tennis coaching arena. (The Who’s Who of badminton visit the WIE sports complex every other month of the year).
I’m nearly at my wits end now. 156 cc, 12.5 bhp power going unutilized is unbearable. I open throttle. The countdown timer reads 3. Click- Gear1-Go. 2 more clicks. Weave, slide, glide-brake, naah I don’t collide, as I said earlier I’m a seasoned Pune rider. Click, click. 40 45 50 kmph. I slow down once under the flyover that runs across over head and takes traffic leftward to Aundh, Baner and Pashan and go into a divider-less stretch of a Shivajinagar street. I now feel like I’m riding a motorbike- the bike does feel like a CBZ. I’m going to use a subway and get onto the old Mumbai- Pune highway. Riding is much better there, you get enough free space to feed fuel through throttle. As I smile silently under my helmet I feel sane now- and why not? I’m in Gear 5- I AM, in my gear!
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