What an autorickshaw wala can teach you about Digital India and more
As usual, today I went to pick up my first passenger of the day, Mr Prasad. The gentleman recently met with an accident and has to be picked up from home and be driven to his office. Mr Prasad was very concerned today about the state of affairs of the country. He usually is. But today he said matters were really grave. Freedom of speech was being throttled, writers, he said, were returning awards as they were concerned about the growing intolerance in the society. He was also upset about some writer belittling the matter by asking if people would give up their college degrees if they did not agree with the government.
Well, I think the other writer has a point, and if it would help, perhaps I could also give up my degree; it anyway is of no use to me. After doing my graduation, I am still running an autorickshaw after all. We were taught about underemployment in my days in college and here I am now, justifying that bitter truth. Moreover, I have to take a lot of precaution, keeping my degree safe and preventing it from getting stolen, because who knows, they may come asking for it if I ever become a minister someday!
But the previous and current governments have been insisting on "skilling India". I had attended a training workshop and got a certificate, but the passengers or the auto-owner don’t pay me better because of that extra training. Some of my colleagues also had to return to their villages and cities, since they could not sustain themselves and their families back home. We actually need "job creation"; we would learn skills on the job anyway, much like our ministers. Unless there is a special skills training programme they go through after being sworn in. Perhaps not! They are very busy people and they have to take care of the country.
Also I think if they had attended some training even on communication skills, perhaps they would not have made some of the statements they ended up making. But I guess imparting skills is easier than creating jobs. After all, the Tata company could only promise about 60,000 new jobs in the Digital India launch programme when we have perhaps the highest youth bulge in the world. And finishing off the labour intensive, agriculture and crafts sector didn’t really help the cause.
“Ah then, well spotted, a food stall serving free food. I must come to it after dropping Mr Prasad,” I thought to myself. The shraddha and navratra are good times; at least one meal is taken care of. With the price of pulses being what the cost of private school fees was in my time, these free meals are a blessing. Wish there was a festivity every day of the year; at least one meal would be taken care of.
So I queued up with my fellow rickshaw wallahas, metro workers, school students and passersby. What a queue! I would have missed two passengers at least while waiting for my turn. But perhaps the free food would still work out to be more profitable. And then, lo behold, the person serving was giving only curry and no potatoes! What a cheat! Some people raised their voice asking him to serve properly. He grudgingly obliged. So much for freedom of expression; perhaps it is a good thing after all.
During the day somebody mentioned that fuel and phone bills would go up again, mentioning something of a Swachh Bharat cess. So after the education cess, which only brought down the quality of education, do we need to impose a cleanliness cess to further bring down the quality of cleanliness? What a mess! And well, whatever happened to the dropping calls and global fuel prices?
After a hard day’s work, I went back to pick up Mr Prasad from his office in the evening. He seemed happier now than in the morning. Who knows! Maybe he was lucky enough to get a raise! As I prodded him, hoping to get a tip, he mentioned that some classified documents which had so far been confidential have been promised to be declassified and made available to the public. Hurrah! I thought to myself. Finally, we would know why the prices of food are rising and why all the education is not translating into jobs. The wait was worth it, almost 70 years! Finally, we would know how to run this country and take along poor people like me who wish to earn a respectable living, enough to raise my family and to provide them the basic human needs with dignity. Not by grovelling for some below poverty line (BPL) scheme.
On my way back, I wondered what to take home for dinner. Nothing comes for less than hundred rupees in the vegetable section. Pulses are pricey! Everything is marked between one hundred and two hundred rupees. Perhaps the chicken would work out cheaper. But wait, what if the chicken is mistaken for mutton and the mutton for beef. I surely don’t want to be lynched to fill my stomach. Perhaps roti, salt and onion would do, but hey, there is no onion too!