Slumdog Millionaire

As you drive through the moribund city, struggling through the never-ending traffic jams. Horns & Beeps and more horns & more beeps. And then comes the Traffic signal. Nothing frustrates you more than the sight of those dramatic beggars approaching your vehicle. As you hurriedly press the lock button or roll up the windows; you know there would be another signal not so far from the one in which you have halted. Your internal reasoning of “Why do they beg?” would never drive away those beggars from the face of the city. The reasoning is incessant, and the frustration is overwhelming if you have been to a foreign country (not so third world like India) lately. The manner, in which they would act, would be as if they were the last survivors of the poverty epidemic. Some would be so creative and skilful; you would feel they are one “Caught in the wrong job”. And having a berth in the Bollywood movies, one would also think about the kind of racket begging must be.

But, let’s free our minds from the cherished thoughts and think seriously: “What if they were not to beg?” It would be too political to say that they can go and do some work elsewhere. The traffic signals are their homes; how far must they travel, yet they will come back to their permanent abode.

And then I see the “Other Signal dwellers”, perhaps more dignified than the one’s you hate. They come and sell anything to everything under the sun and the moon: roses, colourful umbrellas, toys – car & aeroplane models, flags (especially during the Independence days), newspaper, books & magazines, sun shades, snacks, electronic items, fancy stuff, the list is endless perhaps. Providing services at traffic signals is certainly dignified than begging. If the beggars were to do something similar, then our earlier statement “They can go and do some work” wouldn't seem anyway political anymore. Also, they don’t leave their permanent abode. And suddenly you see an opportunity; “This could be a win-win model”.

I personally feel that providing services at the signals is not a crime, no doubts whatsoever that begging is (only in the absence of an alternative). And, this to me is the possible alternative. But, do you realize the opportunity?
Imagine you are at the crossing right in-front of the Inorbit Mall in Malad, Mumbai. In all possibility you might be going over to the Mall. And then someone comes with a booklet, and gives you details of the active discount sales in the mall; and to your surprise that “someone” disappears without asking for a fee. That “someone” is suddenly transformed from a “nagging” guy to a more patient “individual”.
Imagine you are stranded at a Karol Baug signal. You huff and puff in the dust and heat of Delhi summers. How much would a small chilled mineral water bottle (like the one’s you get in the flights) mean to you then? Priceless right? You would be ready to buy it for Rs. 10 even if it were printed Rs. 5 only. But, in the process you would stop one individual from begging on the streets.

Imagine you had a big fight with your loved one, & the same old story: “You always come late as if you were married to your office”. And as destiny would have it, the traffic jam seems to be burgeoning today. More the “Reds” that you get on your way, more the “Blue” that you turn out to be. As you pray unremittingly that you reach home early today, you are welcomed with more pain & agony. And, then this guy comes from nowhere holding a bouquet of lovely roses, refreshing as they look, soaked in the dew drops. The attitudes’ changes, the doors are unlocked, and the window is rolled down, as you extend the Rs 50 note. Truly an idea can change your life; if not then be your wife.
I see it as a big change in the making. Over the months I have collected so much from these street vendors that it seems plentiful: an aeroplane model, two cruiser bike models, a bag full of cars, a helicopter that can fly, a bird that has foldable wings which can flap. And, I don’t restrict myself only to the traffic signals, Indian railways is another haven of beggars and also these street vendors.

I am no more ashamed of them; as they have grown beyond their poverty. I have rolled down my windows, to see what’s new to be sold.