The lingua franca had not found a definite adjective to
describe the flamboyant construction of that palace. With lustrous glass walls,
resin-coated ceilings, ‘grade one’ furniture and adequate place for moving here
and there, not to mention the air-conditioner which has become a necessity in
this metropolitan city these days, the construction had everything that a
common man cannot dream about. This could shelter more than 1,000 people at a
time, and was completely open for public access, but was accessible to the
creamy layer of the society only because people had to pay to get a glimpse of
this heaven.
Inequality did it depict right from the mere fact that it
was constructed at an elevated place, metaphorically so to suggest the aam aadmis not to dream of paying a
visit to that luxury. The daily wagers – the coolie, the fruit vendor, the
mechanic, the clerk, the apprentice, the sweeper, the cleaner – had to just
remain jaw-dropped on seeing this glimmering beauty while they waded through
the city to fill their bellies at least once a day, and provide something for
their families.
The population needed for the construction of this posh
place almost statistically matched the human resources required for building
Taj Mahal, and it went on expanding its limits, alleviating the misery of the
beings that were just human. Just the sight of the overwhelming beast made the
socially downtrodden sect feel a bit more inferior, as they let out a sigh of
incompetence for being unable to scale the prowess of the so-called educated
people and enjoy the rarest feat of paying a visit to the haven of their
dreams.
It did rain, and rain brought in pain to the city. These common
people were the first to be affected and they had to get to an abode of safety
at the earliest. The immediate survival instinct caught hold of them as they either
ran frantically through the water-clogged streets or just stood helplessly on top
of the multi-storied buildings. Eventually, all the modes of commuting were
getting disconnected one by one and the water level was also rising up like a
snake crawling over the creeper.
The gigantic structure finally embraced people, although
they had to pay something, and all the commoners got into it. The inside of it
was warm and cozy enough, and could accommodate them well enough. It was every
bit satisfactory but what seemed like the utmost dream for those people didn’t matter
to them because albeit the chance of entering, there was no hope. Yet, it had
become a necessity now and there was no escaping Lord Varuna. Finally, the
dreams were accomplished but nobody felt elated for it. Because ultimately,
there is no other place that could provide as much comfort as OUR home.
P.S.: In case of any ambiguity, I would like to
clarify that this is on the Chennai Metro Rail. Over the course of time, the
Chennai floods had made it nearly impossible for the buses to swim across the
waters, and people from all walks of life had to access this mode of transport
despite the charges levied being too much. And, I also heard that the
transportation ticket was discounted temporarily, but no matter what, this
METRO JOURNEY that was a far-fetched dream for everyone became real at a point,
however with no satisfaction.
Reality sucks. Always.
When you have resources, you don’t get situations. When you have situations,
you don’t get resources. Just try to enjoy the contradictions and move on J
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