To be abroad to be happy......

  

The two or three lines of people standing in a queue reminded one of all roads leading to Rome. The father and son enquired about the queue.

“This one is 9.30, that one 10 and the other one 10.30.”

They were referring to the times scheduled and the people were, quite uncharacteristically for this country, standing in their respective queues.

2 beggar women in their 60s or 70s were vigorously begging amidst the queues. Theirs was a cheerful begging as if they were so happy these people were moving to the Promised Land. Getting a permission was next to impossible. While the beggars went about their cheerful business for the day, the people in the queue wore an anxious disposition in complete contrast. All the wear and tear of the application, the schedule, the timing, the documents, the invitations, admissions, bank statements, salary certificates, returns, the anticipated questions and possible rejection were writ large on their faces. Some of them wore clothes that they would eventually wear in the Promised Land. Only the parents on a visit to their techie kids wore the village attire. But it was evident that they considered themselves different from their pure village folk.

A little girl’s little finger was on the fingers of her mother and as they joined the queue and the conversation, the beggar woman came with an anticipatory triumphant appreciative smile as if she was blessing in pride of the mother and child that they get the permission. The little girl looked at the mother’s face and then at the beggar woman’s then back at the mother’s face in surprise at this unusual delay of sympathy on the mother’s side.

Inside the gates in the lobby to the office, the same queues were repeated but without the local beggars and the grime of the streets. The anxiety remained though. The anticipatory triumph of getting the permission was concealed under an artificial submission in deference to the near omnipotent authority.

Just by the flyover three cars hit bumper to bumper as the auto driver in front unexpectedly stalled to take a U turn. People showered curses at him, but he muttered he had broken no law. He was so legalistic that the cars needed repair for his fault though no law was broken. Inadequate infrastructure did contribute to the bum to the bumper, he implied. To be abroad to be happy in this country is a strange destiny…?