Trust me, I am feeling really guilty, sheepish vaghera today. I haven’t picked up a jhadoo this morning, and got to work. Not even in my own home, forget the filthy streets of Mumbai. No wonder, I didn’t make it to Narendra Modi’s elite Dirt Squad of eminent citizens who have taken the Jhadoo Pledge. To be fair, I didn’t participate in that other nonsensical pledge either (Ice Bucket), so I am feeling a little better. Nine seems to be the magic number these days. The nation is going to be galvanised by nine inspiring citizens (who just happen to be popular movie stars, industrialists and sports people). The 9x9 story of Swachchh Bharat reminds me of those wretched chain letters we used to get in the mail (when mail existed).
Each time I received one, I would bin it, and hold my breath for the next 12 hours. All of them came with dire warnings. If someone was reckless enough to break that chain, awful things were in store for the irresponsible person. But — aha — if you kept the chain going, you would receive a gift within three days. My friends hated me for breaking the chain and depriving them of the promised gifts. Soon, I was taken off all lists. I have to confess I felt a little left out. This was a form of social exclusion that made me feel unworthy. Well, that’s how I am feeling right now. The thing is, my low self worth is still not pushing me into picking up that broom and hitting the roads. I think I need therapy. Not just for the broom lapse, though. I need therapy because I seem to be in a tiny majority that is not quite getting it, nor going gaga over the initiative! But why? The message is strong and unambiguous. What is there not to get, you ask? Ummm. A lot.
Driving down the hazardous slopes of Mussoorie on Gandhi Jayanti, hurtling towards Dehradun to catch my flight home, the car I was in, was halted by a long procession clogging a narrow street. I thought it was Mussoorie’s version of Hong Kong’s Umbrella Protests. There was a slight drizzle, and the slogan raising juloos wallas, were sauntering along at a leisurely pace, protected by umbrellas. I rolled down the window and asked what was going on. The person replied brightly that they were all on a massive clean up drive. The irony of it all, was that this exchange took place right in front of a gigantic garbage dump overflowing with mounds of rotting garbage. I suggested mildly that they should start right there, with the dump, instead of raising slogans and blocking traffic. I noticed nobody was carrying a jhadoo. But everybody was quoting the Prime Minister. I pleaded with the placard-bearing marchers to let the car pass. When I looked back, one of the protestors had just thrown a paan masala sachet on the road.
Swachchh Bharat is a loaded term. We need to be “swachchh” on several fronts. Cleaning up our neighbourhoods is a great start… but hello! why should we be doing the municipality’s work? We pay taxes to keep our cities garbage free. Happy to help and all that, but is this really the job of citizens? Mumbai is one gigantic garbage dump. Visitors to Mumbai recognise the metropolis from its unmistakable stench — a combination of rotting fish and the usual muck that accumulates when waste management is a low priority. Those of us who live in this kachra, have forced ourselves to ignore it. Or, we tackle the problem by paying private garbage collectors to do what the local government is obliged to do — take care of the city’s sanitation — but doesn’t. It is a bit unfair to send India on a guilt trip and keep invoking the name of Mahatma Gandhi.
Unless we implement stricter laws for and impose fines (like it happens in the rest of the world) on those who blatantly ignore civic responsibilities. The Prime Minister may be shown sweeping India Gate and other places, on a daily basis, but we will not take the hint and follow his example. You know why? The change he seeks and the awareness he hopes to generate (both, very positive programmes, I hasten to add), may not progress beyond tokenism. It may turn out to be yet another, short-lived “movement”, no deeper than the Ice Bucket trend, which died a swift death once the craze was over. Even so, let’s face it, in terms of powerful symbolism, it has worked brilliantly.
Agreed, India needs to be toilet trained. We can’t go on soiling our nappies forever. A smallish start has been made. Abhi nahi, toh kabhi nahi! For decades we have merrily ignored that catchy slogan, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness.” Most of our temple courtyards remain revoltingly filthy. If we cannot keep places of worship clean, how can we possibly transform neighbourhoods?
Poor Arvind Kejriwal must be feeling really short changed right now. He no longer has the monopoly over the jhadoo — the one thing he was clinging on to, when all else had been snatched away. This is India’s Sauchalaya Moment. In more ways than one. If we get this one thing right, the rest of the crap we are dealing with, will also follow. Keep the faith, Bharatwaasis. A solemn promise to clean the country has been made by the Prime Minister. We will hold him to it. As for me, I will take my time to give a “Jhadoo ki Jhappi” to the municipal janitor. That is, if the person shows up at all! Just checking — Is it true there are plans to rename All India Radio to All India Modi?
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