Friday, April 18, 2025

Day V and VI in Bhubaneswar - India trip 2025

 Looking at traffic in Bhubaneswar made me to conclude that no one breaks any traffic rule in the capital city - they make their own. I was reminded of this quip from Dostoevsky - "The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons" wrote the great Russian writer after doing his time in jail. Similarly, the degree of civic sense of the Bonsariya (a person living in Bhubaneswar) could be judged from its traffic.

OLA and UBER cab services are arguably the best thing to happen to the city in recent time. Just book them using your Smartphone App, you can see the cabs rolling in on the screen, doing on-screen somersaults before showing up at your doorsteps in minutes. The other day I took an OLA cab. As usual I never lose an opportunity to chat, even if that person is a stranger. Sitting next to him I started a tete-a-tete with the driver. Bit stiff initially, he slowly loosened up and boasted that he can slice his way fast through the clogged roads of Bhubaneswar and the multitude bypasses it has and adept at it as fish is to water. He was planning to drive on till midnight that day and on long term until he goes over the hills over the wheels.

A late migrant to Bhubaneswar from small town Baripada in Mayurbhanj district, a la many job seekers from the hinterland of Odisha he came to the capital city, his city of neon lights and opportunity. He landed up as a driver for UBEREY (Uber pronounced in Odia accent) and after spending few years there he jumped to its competitor company OLA. He shared a small room in a squalor along with 2 other OLA - UBER drivers with an unattached mosquito infested toilet located outside their dorm. Every month he sends money to his family back in Baripada. I asked him - "Why don't you go back to your town" ? He replied with a sigh, tired from a long day of stressful drive - "There is hardly any opportunities there. Here I am much better off having a job and able save some money to feed mouths back home". The man made his point.

In IT parlance, we use the term Deadlock to describe a situation when two processes try to access the same resource at the same time. In such a scenario, one waits for the other to complete the task until former's turn arrives. Similarly we get a Deadlock situation at road intersections when two drivers are stuck, hoping for the other one to go first like "Lucknow KI DO NAWABON KI GAADI PEHLE AAP PEHLE AAP..." - as two vehicles carrying Royals of Lucknow, a place known for etiquette request each other to go first. In Bhubaneswar, it is other way round. Everyone wants to go first at the other's expense. Letting the other go first would be considered too benevolent, outright stupidity - a pipe dream if you are expecting such a thing. If I ever get behind the wheels here, either I will hit someone or someone will hit me within a mile of my driving.

My OLA drive continued as a latest Odia song
trending now was playing -

ବିଲ ସର ସର ପାଣି
ବାଜି କୁଣ୍ଡେଇ ହେଲାଣି
ସଲ ସଲ ଲାଗେ
ଗଲ ଗଲ ଲାଗେ 
କୁଣ୍ଡେଇ ହେଲାଣି.

Transliterated...

The paddy field is water soaked,
Touched it, started itching.
Feels slimy and slippery,
Feels ticklish
Started itching..

I asked the driver to switch to a more sensible song. This channel makes more sense to this generation Odias who feel speaking pure Odia makes one a "GAUNLIA" (village folk). A girl started speaking in accented Odia using a veritable blend of Hingodia (Hindi mixed Odia) - "କେଡ଼େ ସୁନ୍ଦର ଓଡିଆ ଗୀତଟିଏ। ଶୁଣିଲେ ବେହାଲ୍ ହେଇଯିବେ। ହସିହସି ବେଦମ୍ ହେଇ ବେଫିକର୍ ବି ହେଇଯିବେ।". I pleaded to tune to another channel. This time Kishore Kumar's voice wafted in - "Ruk Jaana Nahi Tu Kahi Haar Ke". I requested the driver to stick to this one. Even at today's age, nearly after 40 years of his death, the eccentric genius playback singer Kishore Kumar still rules the roost.

As twilight approached, we approached our destination. The setting Sun's rays were starting to lose its sting. The Sun turned into a giant orange balloon to behold on the western horizon. Lines of birds flapped their wings crisscrossing the sky, like a smarm of mosquitoes circling huge around a light bulb. The orange sun slowly went down a haze of dust. The Uber driver pulled out a ZARDA PAAN (scented tobacco Betel leaf) from his shirt pocket and popped it inside his mouth and burped, spraying the smell of ZARDA inside the cab. He chewed it for a sometime, then rolled over the window to spit out the red phlegm on the dusty road. 

I glanced outside of the left side passenger's seat and rolled down the windows. A burst of cooler air from distant "KALABAISAKHI", the summer rains felt soporific. Couple of stray dogs were fighting over food leftover rolled by the customers of a fastfood street vendor adjacent to the road as customers were munching away from their paper plates. The quarreling mongrels suddenly came in the front of the car. My OLA driver slammed the breaks and slowed down to avoid hitting the poor doggies. The canines snarled at each others until one of them with its tail well tucked behind hindlegs fled away to let us resumed our onward journey.

As it turned darker, the Sun God whose day shift just ended passed on his relay baton to Street lights for the night shift to begin as they turned their lights on. A burst of wind carried the dust glittering under the street lights and sprayed it like sawdust over everything - trees, carts of the street vendors, the houses and the parked vehicles as we zigzagged past one lane after another. The pariah mongrels barked at us, some chased our car as the bulls and cows standing blocking the road gaped at us. Roadworks for laying down a new sewage system has made a mess of our locality with blocked roads with no clear directions for detour ahead.

The citizens of our Old Town area are cursing the authorities for the never ending work and causing innumerable pain for them. I had to direct the driver to maneuver the detour roads, snaking through the narrow roads with vehicles parked on both sides. Though I am familiar to the area, it's still a challenge to recognize the places as every time I visit, the roads are shrinking with too many houses erupting on empty spots protruding into the roads, clogging and contesting the city. Luckily for me my OLA trip back home wasn't with my Zarda Paan chewing driver as companion. I paid the cab driver his "BHADA" (fare) and as he was struggling to gather change money from his front pocket, I gesticulated him to keep the change. Looking more than happy, he raised his head to get a closer look at my face. I knew that earlier I raised his curiosity, now I got his attention. More later..iced 

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