Saturday, 15 February 2020
Why Elizabeth threw the curd bowl?-1
Elizabeth threw the bowl of curd onto the ground and howled. Ruby controlled her temper and held her fist rightly behind her back. One more ugly scene and she was sure that she would whack the hell out of this little devil. If bread is out of stock at the neighborhood kirana shop, what she can do? It is not her fault. She’s just a housewife and dutiful at that. All purchases were made by Desmond D’Silva, her hubby of 12 years. Her job ended with the preparation of the master list at the beginning of the month followed by a twice a week supplement list for replenishments. Bread is in short supply for the past one week. Why only bread? Everything else is. Little Devil “Liza” cannot do without bread toast for her breakfast with her quota of Horlicks. That too with the Bevers brand. Nothing less than that. When Guptaji ran out of bread, Ruby had no other choice but to make paranthas – plain or stuffed – as the replacement and feed the child. Liza, it is no secret, did not cherish parantha-and-curd combo and she wanted her regular bread toast. Where will Ruby go to get bread? Across Delhi, there is no supply of Bevers bread. Or for that matter, no bread. All because truck drivers have gone on a wildcat strike. Drivers on a strike? Unheard of. One heard of transporters announcing “chakka jam” or indefinite strike, but drivers – that too, long haul truck drivers? Yes, it was strange. These chaps never stopped working on their own. Occasionally, they were rendered helpless when transporters and fleet owners under some pretext or other resorted to blackmailing the government demanding some concession. During those short breaks, drivers have no option but to stay on the sidelines, cursing their fate that whatever the outcome of these work stoppages, they never benefitted. Only transporters, fleet owners and broking agents walked away with whatever little freebie the government threw at them to buy peace and restore normalcy. “No bread, no school,” Liza began to chant. Her toothless kid brother Emmanuel giggled without understanding the import of drama unfolding in front of him. His clapping with his tender, tiny palms added grist to Liza’s enthusiasm and she began to dance, after throwing her canvas shoes in preparation to undo school uniform. “Des, stop this nonsense! Pack her off to school. I can’t handle her anymore! Or you take a day off and sit with her,” chided Ruby ogling at her hubby who was half-reading the newspaper in hand and half glancing at the scene in front of him. “Ökie, baby! Lizzie, let’s go for a bar of chocolate!” Desmond tried to lure his distraught daughter and save Ruby. Dad and daughter stepped out with school bags and canvas shoes in her left hand. Ruby picked up Emmanuel moved to the kitchen. Her new challenge is what to cook? There is no vegetable, no meat, no fish. Only grain and potatoes and onion. No tomato. All because of the drivers’ strike! Idiots! She cursed. How long this will continue? How is she going to survive? *** Jaishankar Sharma, perched on a rugged coir cot and looking at the sky in his open yard, belched twice. “Throat drying up. Get me some water,” he requested no one in particular. But there was some movement inside his house. He could hear the sound of a steel tumbler being plunged into another vessel. So, the requested water will be on the way soon, Sharma surmised. He can hear his thoughts, but not his voice. Over the past week, he has totally lost his voice due to incessant phone conversations with his colleagues calling from across the country. No, Sharma is no politician. A long haul driver. His employer? It depends on when you ask. Today he may be working for Motilal Transport. Tomorrow Shankar Logistics. Why? “You look educated, but … sorry to say, you are illiterate,” he brusquely told the Hitavada reporter who had come to interview him two days ago. Well, this is how the interview transpired. “Sharmaji, in your 30 years’ service, every few months you keep jumping? Is it good?” “Namaskarji, Patrakar babu! Tell me, when you joined this paper, did you get an appointment letter? Patrakar babu – Naresh Minocha – nodded in agreement. “Hame aisa suvidha nahi diya gayi hai. Samjhe?” Why? “Phir, woyi baaat? Simple. Malik ne nahi diya hai. Bas.” Why? Why did you not ask? Sharmaji quickly lost patience. "Ärre, Pandu, yeh babu ko zara door leh jaa kaar samjah!” Unless you are wet behind ears, everyone knows that drivers are not hired and given an appointment letter. You – as a driver – need a job. Motor malik on a referral – yes, without a referral, no driver will be hired even today – hands over the key of his truck – a few lakhs worth – to the applicant and tells him to go with a load to so and so destination. A fixed sum is given for route expenses – including the bribe to be paid to corrupt transport officials, traffic constable, toll gate charges et. A smart driver tries to bribe less, avoids toll rolls to keep his expenses as low as possible. Plus, whatever little diesel is saved at the end of the journey is drivers’. Well, that is his source of income. Rarely, drivers are given an appointment letter mentioning his monthly salary and other benefits. Drivers also don’t ask for appointment letters. Still, some companies show on their books of accounts that drivers are paid a salary of Rs.5,000 or 6.000. Just book entry. This money is never given to drivers but adjusted later under some pretext or other. Out of every trip, drivers definitely save and make money. Long haul drivers take home approx. Rs.25,000 every month. “Sharmaji, TV wale aaye hai!” sounded one of his lieutenants. Suddenly Sultanpur became the fresh news hub. A dozen OB vans were parked outside Sharma’s compound – What compound? Outside his field. His brick house was in the midst of coconut trees and cowsheds on a stretch of kucha road – seven kilometers from State highway linking Jaunpur in Uttar Pradesh. Very little has changed in this state ever since Independence. Almost 60 years, notwithstanding the fact that barring three Prime Ministers who ruled the country, every other PM was elected from this most populous state. Still development is a word that can be found only in the dictionary, not on the ground. The sudden appearance of TV crews in the midst of fields and narrow village lanes though created a lot of buzz initially, villagers became sick of this invasion. Even cycles were not able to pass through, posing a big challenge to the villagers living in the vicinity of Sharma’s home. Sharmaji’s call to millions of drivers to “stop vehicles till they respect us” campaign found an overwhelming response. Drivers began leaving their vehicles at factory gates, distribution centers, branch offices and everywhere. Except on highways. What triggered this revolt is interesting. Actually, it was not a single incident but at least two at different locations – around the same time; by sheer coincidence. In both cases, it was the demand for ‘self-respect’, in a manner of speaking. Disrespectful to the subordinates is nothing India specific. It is universal. The only thing is that Indians rejoice or get vicarious pleasure in insulting their juniors and also those who have no union protection to safeguard their rights. Truck drivers have no union to boast of or lean on in distress times. They have to fend for themselves. It is a do or die battle for them daily. Unless there is a collective action and normal life is disrupted, the media does not take notice of happenings that impact drivers’ life. A slap on driver Mannu Pandeyji by a transport official near Surat a week ago for his refusal to give the bribe demanded to set the ball rolling. Pandeyji felt the demand for Rs.2,000 for entry was too much when all his papers – of vehicle, cargo and driver – were legally perfect. However, his readiness to part with Rs.500 did not go down well with the RTO saying he is not a beggar to accept Rs.500! “Do what you want” reprieve by Pandeyji led to the RTO assaulting him in public. A bleeding Pandeyji fell on the ground and his head hit a stone which again led to further bruise and bleeding. Drivers around him felt that this was too much and punched the RTO. The battle turned ugly with both sides toughening their respective stance. RTO and his battalion used lathi while drivers pelted stone. Pandeyji is no kid on the block but a much-respected driver. The word spread about him being manhandled by RTO in Surat like wildfire and Sharma of Sultanpur – a close friend and confidant of Pandeyji – gave a call to fellow drivers to teach the corrupt RTO regime the right lesson. Actually, none gave any importance to this standoff between the RTOs and drivers until trucks simply vanished from highways. The bubble burst at last.
The war of words between drivers and RTOs is happening since state governments plucked highway policing from the police department and vested with the transport department. With a stiff target set for them on a monthly basis, instead of monitoring and ushering in a compliance regime by errant drivers, the transport officials rolled out a regime of corruption unheard of. Fleet owners smartly vested drivers with the responsibility to ‘manage’ the corrupt officials. An ability to handle corrupt officials was rated as a big plus for drivers while fleet owners hired drivers. Pandeyji was not the first driver to dispute RTO’s claims. Once upon a time, a lady RTO killed a driver in front of his son who wanted to be a driver and got suspended at the maximum. Driver’s son got a few lakhs but bid goodbye to drivery. Associations literally did nothing. It was a recurring drama for decades which incidentally is one of the reasons, turbaned-sardarjis who was the mascot of long haul truck driving quickly withdrew from the scene, leaving the field open for uneducated lot mainly from Haryana, Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh, Chattisgarh, Jharkhand, and Bihar. Somehow, the Pandeyji incident unexpectedly lit fire to the hurt egos of drivers and Sharma jumped into the fray in support of his long time friend. Simultaneously, another incident at Zikrapur near Chandigarh, Indian Bevers Limited a multinational company manufacturing toilet soaps to a toothbrush to hair cream, a day earlier became a breaking news story in local television channels. Drivers at the warehouse of this company were denied access to the toilet and in the absence of any driver restroom facilities outside the warehouse, it created a piquant situation.
Such denial of toilet facilities is nothing new and it has been in practice from immemorial – be it an MNC or Indian company – but on this particular day when one of the drivers had stomach upset and needed multiple access, by the security and company officer, drivers hit upon a novel idea of protest. They gathered – almost 50 of them and decided to squat for open defecation in front of the warehouse. With their pants down and bottles filled with water for ablution, they literally began their bowel movement exercise in public. Word spread like wildfire and more drivers in the huge warehousing complex jumped into action. It was a sight to see. Rows and rows of drivers “defecating’ in public are something no one anticipated. In a fit of anger, the MNC warehouse manager ordered his security guards to charge them away resulting in a battle of bottles versus lathis. It turned ugly and violent too. Police were summoned and they added their might with more violence and this brought in news-hungry media. The agitating drivers called up their friends in other locations of the same company and in the next hour, 26 factories situated at various states, witnessed a chaotic scene. Everywhere, the same format was followed by ‘public defecation’ in front of the factory gates. The whole issue exploded. The next 24 hours saw several thousand drivers outside various factories and warehouses resorting to the same format of open defecation in protest against ‘No Toilet Access’. Imagine the plight of the company and the rulers of various state governments talking big about “Swatch Bharat Abhiyan’ (Clean India Campaign) spearheaded by none other than the Prime Minister himself and this “bare bottom’ approach. Sharma heard the story and decided it is time to dive deep to ‘teach a lesson’ to the capitalists and others as well. The sudden outpour of feelings of not getting due respect from everyone came in handy for him to hit quickly. That is when he gave a call to “stop vehicles till they respect us”. In the age of mobile phones, every single driver heard about the insult. Net result: unanticipated and spontaneous work stoppage right across the nation. No notice to go on strike. Where is the union or association to handle such niceties? Vanishing vehicles meant a virtual halt to economic activities. Manufacturing plants, having imbibed just in time or no inventory policy and outsourcing as the route to keep their costs down, simply have no reserves to keep the assembly lines running. That is on the production side. Equally hit were outbound transportation of pushing finished items to the market shelves. Even they needed transportation to move out of factory gates. With millions of drivers walking away from the steering wheels, there was total chaos when the industry realized what had hit them. Simultaneously, the common man realized his daily essentials of bread, butter, fruits, vegetables, etc. soaring through the roof due to short supply and the hoarding phenomenon. Krishnakant Bajaj, President of All India Manufacturers Federation, the country’s largest industry lobby group, led a team to Finance Minister Mustafa Gandhi seeking quick government intervention to restore normalcy nationwide. Some states did try to impose the Essential Services Maintenance Act to break the back of agitating drivers after they had failed to buy peace. A few states tried to arrest local driver leaders who assumed charge to lead the work stoppage but better sense prevailed at the eleventh hour to avoid any further provocation. Otherwise, Sharma would have been behind bars by now. Gandhi could have done very little considering this is a state subject and he is one of the votaries of robust federalism with each state enjoying enormous powers vis-à-vis center. Moreover, not all 54 states in India were not ruled by the same political party at the center. That’s why Gandhi gave an assurance to look into the matter. But the strike would continue for longer than anyone anticipated. Ruby had to contend with Liza’s tantrums. Every stakeholder tried their best. An offer was made to build toilets outside every factory, warehouse that receives a minimum of 25 trucks daily. Sharma refused to budge. Build first and then talk was his firm stance. “Sharmaji, what is your next move?” asked a Wall Street Journal reporter in English who flew into Allahabad – 200 km away from Sultanpur – and drove down. Given the billions of dollar investment many global giants had sunk in the Hindi belt – most underdeveloped part of India – under the much talked about Make In India initiative, Sultanpur and its native Sharma became the nerve center for the global business daily. A smart Sharma retorted: “Go and ask those companies how soon they will build toilets… and ask RTOs how soon they will behave like human beings – particularly towards us - drivers! …. When you have their answers, return! Then I will tell you what’s my next move Appaji Rao, standing next to Sharma and managing the new Drivers’ Centre set up quickly to ensure better coordination between Sultanpur and all India a week ago, marveled at Sharma’s guts.
(to continue)
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