The shop next door

So government comes up with reforms atlast, which probably might be a face saver. The usually silent PM comes up with war cries like : ‘Strengthen my hands’, ’We will go down fighting’. Judging from the reaction, the ‘middle class’ is not much enthused this time.  At the end of the day, what good would the reforms do if it burns up your wallet. Anyway the Time magazine did a somersault and sang praises for our PM in the last edition. India Inc has also expressed their gratitude and may tip MMS as ideal Indian premier ahead of Modi.

The category called people were once upon a  time had the opinions shaped by India Inc, money market, GDP graphs and shit news from the media. But after many scams, allegations and movements like IAC,  people are not buying the growth story anymore. In the meantime PM has been playing bluff after bluff with his sage like silence, well timed emotional outbursts & scholarly use of language. 

When the reforms were announced, which rather wasn’t unexpected, the FB and Twitter crowds descended in hordes. The Voice of the Social Networks is another colossal change in Indian landscape. We have a wide and cheap means to exhibit our nonsense. The ‘revolution’ and ‘rebellion’ became a hip word. MMS and Sonia Gandhi became a darling for the sarcastic tweeples. And now the crowd started hunting for the poster boy for their movement. 

Years ago we had two kinds of villain typecasted for our TV sops and serials. One was the local money lender & other was the local shop owner. The shop owner wore a cap, glasses on the nose tip, had teeth sticking out of the mouth, he cheated with weights, cheated with the quality, he refused the widows credit and occasionally took advantage of the honour of poor village girls. 

One fine morning the huge, air conditioned and spacious shops come up with neatly dressed well mannered kids. The kinara shop owner runs out of business. Then as if from heaven above the Twitter activists find their martyr specimen in him.

We had a stationary shop in our street owned by one of our neighbours. The guy was rich, rode a sazzy bike and had a beautiful daughter. Although we smiled politely at him, we murmured about the insane profits he’s been making. The shop was run by a morose guy. Every evening office goers would pick up the day’s necessities. 

Then slowly he had to change. The shop was given a facelift, where people could actually walk in & pick goods. The morose boy had to laboriously paste a smile. Still he finds it tough to hold out, considering the discount the big players give.

In an age where the goods are measured based on the utility and services, is it worthwhile to wail about a system that has self extinguished itself. A few years ago, the vegetable vendor picked out the vegetables for us. He would try to slip in a few rotten ones. An argument would follow culminating in the mutually agreed at a price. 

Haven’t things changed? Why would people prefer to burn up money just for the sake of sentiments? What we need is a real set of thought process that goes before making a statement.