The Covid-19 lockdown had crossed 45
days. Delhi and the surrounding areas were simmering in heat. The mercury must
have touched 35 degrees Celsius as I stood under a shade near a provision store
at 11 in the morning. My wife had stopped there to purchase some essentials on
our way back from a doctor's clinic. I watched with interest the drill of
permitting only a limited number of visitors inside after spraying some liquid
on their hands. The guard at the door stood next to plastic trays with milk in
polythene packs and bundles of bread exposed to raw air next to a drain. As per
a popular view, the number of Covid-19 victims in India is low because of our
superior immunity acquired through habitual consumption of contaminated and
poorly preserved food. "So be it," I thought.
The shop had a narrow strip of a footpath
in front, on which stood a reporter and his companion: a cameraman with a
stand-mounted cellular phone. I had ignored them on our arrival minutes ago,
and had firmly refused the guard's request to face the reporter. I had no
desire to brave the sun, and was least interested in striking a conversation
with a complete stranger next to a drain.
Finally, the reporter walked
towards me while speaking in Hindi, "Aur Aaiye Ab Jaante Hain Ek Bujurg
Se 'Make In India' Ke Baare Mein Unke Vichaar" (Let us now
learn about the views of an elderly gentleman about 'Make in India'). He was
dressed in plain clothes with no identity tag. He didn't introduce himself,
didn't waste time on preliminaries, and shot in Hindi, "Have you decided
to buy only Indian goods on the basis of the Prime Minister's call?"
"I am not sure I would refuse
the Covid-19 vaccine even if it is made in a foreign country," I
responded.
"We are not talking about
medicines, we are talking about other goods," he clarified, the
conversation continuing in Hindi.
"I am still not sure that in
the present times I would be able to buy a decent laptop that is completely
made in India," I answered.
Not liking my answers, the reporter
started walking away even as I talked about the world's transformation into a
global village. He thrust the microphone before another person who was in the
process of disembarking from his motorcycle, asking "We have seen many
people buying earthen pots (matka) today. Have you stopped using the
refrigerator in response to the Prime Minister's 'Make in India' call?"
The person mumbled something about
preferring matka-water in summers, but my mind had already strayed away.
Was the reporter ignorant about the Rs.1 trillion consumer durable industry in
India? Did he feel that refrigerators are not made in India? Had he never heard
the names of Godrej, Voltas, etc., and did he not know that the Indian
subsidiaries of many international companies manufacture refrigerators in the
country? Or, was he indulging in toad-eating and creating an incorrect
impression in spite of knowing the facts?
Both ways, the conduct of the media
person was irresponsible. If people believe in him, they will hurt 'Make in
India' by shunning refrigerators. If they don't believe in him, the channel
will lose credibility and viewership, which will again hurt 'Make in India'.
The call is not to stop consumption but to enhance work in myriad sectors
ranging from automobiles to space, I argued in my mind.
My wife emerged. We started walking
towards home. "I met an idiot today," I told her.
And then I realised, the reporter would
feel the same about me while deleting my byte and completing the story. "So
be it," I thought, for the second time in less than 15 minutes.
संदेश
कोई टिप्पणी नहीं:
एक टिप्पणी भेजें