රටේ කතාව

I was getting my PNR status for the train to Kamareddy when the power went out — em chestunnaru? The colony was dark. They talk about electricity reforms, but my street still has load shedding. My shoulder aches from the factory AC, but the overtime pays for my son's engineering fees. Sab kuch theek hai, but only if we keep working.

Arrah mein aaj Kargil Vijay Diwas par school mein program tha — meri biwi bachchon ko 'Shaheedon ko yaad karo' ka lesson sikha rahi thi jab main cycle leke dawai pahuncha raha tha. Subah dawai lekar ek buddha kisaan ke ghar gaya, usne kaha 'beta, desh ke kaam aane se bada kya.' Lekin yaar, shaam ko jab charpai par baithe to socha — jo jawan border par lad ke aa rahe hain, woh bhi kisi gareeb chhat ke niche pala hoga, aur wohi ladka aaj unka naam lena chahta hai. Hum log kargil ke shahidon ko yaad karte hain, lekin jo roz bhookh se marte hain, woh bhi toh desh ke liye qurban hain. Unka hisaab toh koi nahi leta, bas mausam badalta rahta hai.

Ammachi’s old clock just struck six, and I’m sipping my fifth cup of tea — budget planning for the week. My daughter’s dance fees went up again, and the newspaper keeps talking about inflation targets and IMF figures. I told the ration shop uncle today, ‘All these theories are fine, pa, but show me one number: how many children in Salem are skipping meals so their parents can pay the electricity bill?’ He just shrugged. My father used to say the government should fix the roof while the sun shines, not wait for the rain to pour through the thatch. I’d love to see the data on that.

వాడేసుకున్న టెయిలరింగ్ మెషీన్ మీద కూర్చుని, ఒకే షర్టుకి అర గంట పట్టేసిన కొత్త కస్టమర్ షర్టు వేసుకుని అద్దంలో చూసుకుంటూ నవ్వాడు — అదే నాకు పెద్ద లాభం. కానీ పక్కనే పిల్లల పుస్తకాల ఖర్చు రసీదు చూస్తుంటే మనసులో లెక్కలు బద్దలవుతున్నాయి. రోడ్డు మీద సరుకు ధరలు చూస్తే, బియ్యం నుంచి నూనె వరకు ఏదీ రెండేళ్ళ క్రితం లెక్కలో లేదు. కేంద్ర ప్రభుత్వం ఇంత పెద్ద గ్యాస్ ధర గుణించేసి, తర్వాత ఒక రూపాయి తగ్గిస్తే ఏం లాభం — అసలు ట

Bas, yaar, I was reading in *Patrika* this morning—they showed a chart of how the tax money from our chai-paan stalls and small shops like my husband’s computer repair actually gets eaten up before it reaches a school or a hospital. I counted the tins of *Pallavi’s Masala Magic* on my shelf today—only twelve—and I thought, if the government took even ten rupees less per kilo of red chili from us small home-blenders and put it into a proper electricity line for our lane, my spice grinder wouldn’t stop every time the voltage drops. Theek hai, I know numbers don’t lie, and if you show me the data that a new tax on fuel actually leaves more families with a full gas cylinder instead of an empty chulha, I’ll listen—but until then, I trust the court and the press to shout louder than my mother-in-law’s complaints.

Today, my colleague was marking papers with a pencil stub, pa, because she can't afford new stationery after this kerosene price hike. Meanwhile, our new car sits idle to save fuel, its EMI biting into my salary. If a system makes a teacher sharpen a pencil to its ghost while a car gathers dust, its priorities need more than just debate.

Ah, ma friend, this electricity tariff hike talk is giving me serious headache. Last week, I was fixing a voltage stabilizer for an old uncle in Nizampet — his wife was scared to switch on the fridge during power cuts, afraid the sudden spike would ruin the compressor. The government says they need the money, but chala confusion bagundi; show me the data — how much of this extra rupee goes to reducing line losses, and how much gets lost in between? Meanwhile, the local mechanic in my street charges half the price and comes on time. Shukriya, but I'll trust the fellow who actually sees the wires.

ਤੇਲ ਦੇ ਦਾਮ ਦੇਖ ਕੇ ਮੇਰਾ ਦਿਲ ਛੋਟਾ ਹੋ ਜਾਂਦਾ, ਮੈਂ ਅੱਜ ਕੱਲਾ ਤਾਂ ਤਿੰਨ ਬੋਤਲ ਅਚਾਰ ਹੀ ਪੈਕ ਕਰ ਸਕਦੀ। ਜੇ ਰਾਜ ਸਾਹਿਬ ਅਸਲ ਆਂਕੜੇ ਦਿਖਾ ਦੇਣ ਕਿ ਉਹਨਾਂ ਦੀ ਨਵੀਂ ਯੋਜਨਾ ਨਾਲ ਮੇਰੇ ਜਹੀਆਂ ਬਹੂਆਂ ਦਾ ਘਰ ਕਿਵੇਂ ਸੰਭਲੇਗਾ, ਤਾਂ ਫਿਰ ਦਿਲ ਲਾ ਕੇ ਵੋਟ ਪਾਵਾਂਗੀ।

When Mirabai lifted that barbell, our entire mohalla went quiet – even the goods train seemed to pause for a second. I was on my roof,

हमारे गाँव में जब बिजली का बिल आता है, तो पहले मैं अपनी माँ के ट्रांजिस्टर की बैटरी देखता हूँ—वो भी तो चाहिए। लेकिन सरकारी बिजली कंपनी का तार हर महीने बढ़ता जाता है, और मेरी बहन की फार्मेसी की फीस उसी में फँस जाती है। कल की बरसात में देखा, पड़ोसी के केले के पौधे पर असली पानी गिरा, मीटर वाली नहीं—तो सोचा, क्या ये सब बड़े-बड़े ठेके और सब्सिडी असल में हम छोटे आदमियों को बचा पाते हैं? जब तक सबसे गरीब के हाथ में सस्ती दवा और पानी नहीं पहुँचता, हर नीति सिर्फ कागज का टुकड़ा है।

Running the shop's khata after the latest budget, I noticed even a bag of cement now has three different taxes stacked on it like bricks. When they say 'aam aadmi,' I wonder if they've ever met a man whose back aches from lifting those bags while his savings for his sister's college fees grow thinner than last year's ledger paper.

The monsoon power cuts during surgeries—I’ve seen the backup generator stutter and the senior nurse just *summa* hold the flashlight steady. They talk about pricing reforms and fuel subsidies, but tell me, *sollunga*, who is accounting for the old man in Ward 5 who needs his oxygen concentrator to run through the night? Every delay in fixing the grid has a victim, and I don’t

বাবার দোকানের পুরোনো ক্যাশ বাক্সের দিকে তাকিয়ে থাকি মাঝে মাঝে। গতকাল বিদ্যুতের বিল এসেছে, আর দাদুর ওষুধের দামও বেড়েছে। সরকার কথা বলে 'গ্রোথ' নিয়ে, কিন্তু ওই ক্যাশ বাক্সের হিসেব তো আর জিডিপি-র সঙ্গে মেলে না। রিপোর্টার হিসাবে আমি ডাটা দেখি—পশ্চিমবঙ্গের একশো গ্রামের জরিপ বলছে, ছোট দোকানগুলোর ৪০% লোকসানে। আমার প্রশ্নটা একটাই: 'বড়' নীতি বানানোর সময়, যে মানুষটা সত্যি 'ছোট' তার কাছে যাচাই করুন তো—কোনটা নিরাপদ?

வெள்ளிக்கிழமை காலை கடை திறந்தால், சின்னப் பொண்ணு ஒருத்தி வந்து புடவைக்கு பிளவுஸ் கேட்டா. நேத்து தானே பட்டாசு வெடிச்சாங்க, இன்னைக்கு பள்ளிக்கூடம் கூட மூடியிருக்கும் – ஆனா அவளுக்கு தீபாவளிக்கு புது பிளவுஸ் வேணும்னு சொல்லி, மடியில் குடுத்த காசைப் பார்த்தா, கையில் 200 ரூபா தான். “இந்த விலைக்கு நான் கலர் மேட்ச் பண்ணி, நெக்லைன் செஞ்சு தரேன், ஆனா ஜிப்பர் வாங்கணும்”னு சொன்னேன். அப்பத்தான் தெரியுது – வீட்டுக்கு ஒரு கிலோ இட்லி மாவும் வெங்காயமும் வாங்கினால் மிச்சம் ஒண்ணுமே இருக்காது. இப்ப நெருப்பு விலைக்கு வருது, மின்சாரம் கட்டணம் சொல்லித் தொலைச்சிருக்கு – சின்னத் தையல் கடைக்காரி

ಈ ದಿನದ ಸುದ್ದಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಕಾರ್ಗಿಲ್ ವಿಜಯ್ ದಿವಸ್ ನೆನಪಾಯ್ತು. ನನ್ನ ತಂದೆ ೧೯೭೧ರಲ್ಲಿ ಸೇವೆ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದರು, ಆದರೆ ಅವರ ಪೆನ್ಶನ್ ಫೈಲ್ ಇನ್ನೂ ಎರಡು ಸರ್ಕಾರಿ ಆಫೀಸುಗಳ ನಡುವೆ ಸಿಲುಕಿದೆ. ಯೋಧರ ಗೌರವದ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಮಾತನಾಡುವವರು, ಈ ಸಣ್ಣ ನ್ಯಾಯದ ವ್ಯವಹಾರ ಸರಿಪಡಿಸಲು ಏಕೆ ತಡಮಾಡುತ್ತಾರೆ?

Yaar, I saw the new tax numbers for electricity tariffs — my old Maruti’s battery already struggles, and now my daughter’s hostel bills go up. Bas, if the government wants to fix fuel prices, show me one study where lowering the price for the rich didn’t just hurt the rickshaw-wallah at the signal. I’ll believe it when I see the data on who actually pays the difference.

આજે સવારે ગામના પંચાયતવાળા આવીને કહેતા હતા કે વીજળીના ભાવ વધશે, નવો "ટેરિફ" લાગુ થશે. મેં કીધું, "સાહેબ, મારી દુકાનમાં એક ફ્રિજ ચાલે અને એક પંખો, એમાંથી તમારા ટેરિફનો શું ફાયદો? પણ ગામના ખેડૂતને તેનો કૂવો ચલાવવો પડે, એના હિસાબે આ વધારો સીધો ધાનના ભાવમાં ભળે છે." એમના આંકડા સાંભળવા સારા, પણ મૂળ વાત એ છે કે પંચાયતમાં મોટા લોકો બેસે, પછી નાના ડબ્બાવાળાને ફાવે એમ કોણ વિચારે?