A Dead Soul Comes Home After An Eventful Day

A very eventful satisfying day. Volunteering for Aam Aadmi Party, I turn a professional journalist with a mic in hand. On occasion of Women’s Day, we are making a series short videos featuring AAP’s women candidates for upcoming MCD elections. AAP has around 100 women candidates, senior leader Richa Pandey told me that the party is serious about supporting and encouraging more and more women’s political participation.

On my way back I booked an OLA Share cab. Interesting conversations and meetings ensued. For the period when I was the only passenger in the cab I struck a conversation with my cab driver who shared his story from the heart. He comes from Punjab. His parents were murdered by close relatives, when he was barely four years old, over a property related fight. He survived by chance and had to live on alms of some other relatives who never treated him well. Somehow after finishing class 12th, he ran away from home and found a Sardarji truck driver whom he considered his Guru. With his Guru he came to Delhi and did all kinds of job. “Today all these CNG gas stations you see madam, I have a hand in building them. I worked 11 years as a technician with IGL (Indraprastha Gas Limited).” He is driving Ola/Uber since last three years, drives his cab for 19 hours everyday and makes about a lac per month. “The months when I don’t make over a lac, I feel I didn’t work hard enough.” I assumed he must be working so hard for his family and said, “Aren’t you overworking? Isn’t it too tiring?” He said, “Not at all, I enjoy my rides, enjoy my work.” I asked if he was married, “No madam, once I went to meet an alliance, I overheard them saying something that broke my heart so much that I never thought of marriage again. They said, the guy has no parents, no home, no family, how can we give our daughter to such a man.”

I told him even I am not married, not that it is any solace to him, but still felt like saying. He said he is doing all this for his father’s dream. “Ghar ke chatt pe ek gaadi khadi karni hai, mere papa ka sapna tha. (It was my fathers dream to park a car on our home’s roof top).” He has no home or car yet, but that’s what he is living for.

Our conversation was interrupted when a new person a young man in early 20s, boarded the cab followed by two women around same age. One of them overheard me talking on the phone and telling someone that I applied for TISS and started a conversation with me. Both the girls are studying social entrepreneurship in TISS, Mumbai. Turned out the young boy in the cab knew one of these girls, they even had common friends from school, soon they were bitching about some girls and boys from their schools and laughing out loud. Then a war broke out between Delhi and Mumbai, which is a better city. Then the girls started playing music on the cab’s stereo. We talked of traffic, Uttrakhand floods, Doon University, JNU, India’s language war and a range of other things I can hardly remember. When the cab dropped me at my location, I wished good luck to my cab driver for his father’s dream, and the girls wished me luck for my TISS personal interview. It felt like I was saying bye to close friends of years.

The conversation I was having on the phone was no less interesting. A student of IGNOU’s MAWGS course, the same MA that I recently completed, found me on Facebook and reached out to me seeking help with various doubts. I spoke to her for almost half an hour and shared as many tips as I could. The MAWGS course is great, but the IGNOU teachers are really not helpful and the students are really on their own. I would someday want to open a guidance course for new students.

Once I reached home, I felt gloomy though. Mom isn’t well. Sister isn’t happy. Niece has no room to play and dad is very tired. The house is still in a mess after the shifting, add to it, extremely dirty and smelly water by Delhi Jal Board’s, we cannot find a good cook and house maid. All these teething issues are making us all depressed.

Finally, no matter what I do, I cannot take my mind off the fact that once again, I met with the exactly the same kind of heart break. A man I started seeing around October last year has finally disappeared. My communication with him was already always intermittent, but now its like dead and buried. This is a pattern with each and every man I have come across. This day always comes, its just that this man was so nice to me, I just couldn’t think he would follow suit so early. I honestly thought he would be around for a little bit longer. This feeling is so excruciatingly painful and of the 50 odd people I met in this single day, none has a clue about it. I cannot share it with anybody face to face. Not even with my sister. I just sit here and write it on my blog.

At the end of an eventful day I really feel like a dead soul walking. My heart is so dead really. Someday I will just stop living. I understand through my life that some people don’t kill themselves, they just stop living because they cannot see the point anymore.


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