Hmmm...

I am sure many who grew up in the seventies , eighties and nineties will relate to this. Summer vacations were not travel plans or resort bookings. We went to a relative’s house for a few days, and after that the long stretch of holidays was completely on us. No schedules, no outings, no classes. Just long empty days staring at us, and we had to decide how to kill our boredom. Most homes had no tv. Even if there was one, it came on only for a fixed time. Till then the house would be silent, except for the pressure cooker whistle, someone sweeping the floor, or neighbours calling each other from window to window. So we found our own fun. Pulling out old magazines, tearing pictures and sticking them in a scrap book . Using colour pencils to draw anything that came to mind. Reading the same old book again because that was the only book at home. And waiting for evening, because that is when the whole lane came out to play. The sound of someone shouting, “Come down, we are starting t...

I was at my construction site one morning and what I found was that every single worker there was from Bihar or from the nearby belt. Men who had travelled hundreds of kilometres, leaving behind their families, their land, and their comfort. Faces burnt by the sun, but eyes full of quiet strength. That same day, I had called a landscape designer to finalise the deal. While talking, he mentioned his years in the Middle East. He said he had worked there for more than twenty years before moving back to start his own firm here. That is when something hit me hard. What Bihar is for India, India is for the world. The same story, just a different level. The same effort, only the distance changes. People from Bihar and the nearby states carry the weight of our cities. They build our homes, clean our roads, cook our food, and work in silence. Many times we see them, but we don’t really look at them. We talk about them as a group, never as people with dreams. Now look at us, the larger pict...