The roads of Delhi have craters deep enough to bury a man without a single burp. The banana shake in our bodies created by the shake and stir is enough now.
Respected MCD officials,
Being a resident of Delhi for the last 11 years I've seen the city transform from a dusty under-construction hot place to a still dusty, flyoverized place preparing itself for the 2010 common wealth games. I've known it through the highs of flyover and metro trains to the lows of BRT corridor, terror attacks, rapes, murders and thefts, but still I keep living out of compulsion, out of hope. As many say it is tough to live in a metro, the word 'live' makes me laugh at my helplessness, at my fate, still I live, out of hope and compassion for the country I was born in.
You gave me the feeling of moon when I drove my car through the roads of Delhi, those craters and bumps that still echo in my head and all I want to say is thank you for your gratitude.
I behaved like an obedient citizen, followed almost all rules, threw the waste in the garbage bin, seldom did I pee on the road side or spit paan on a public wall but still I am disappointed.
And it is not only me.
Every morning the thought of driving on the city's road with dust, pot holes and excess of traffic enough to put off the mood for the entire day. If the weather is unwilling the situation only gets worse. All this while you are cosily sitting on the tax payers money and enjoying your cup of tea. Every day when millions of us break our back, heads and limbs on the road due to the holes the size of graves, each one of us curses you, and yes we really do, from the bottom of our hearts. And possibly I am talking to deaf ears, but remember a day will come, when your body, soft and vulnerable and with not a drop of free tea, you'll go one the same road, break your bone and curse your own ignorance, for every ounce of work you taught your juniors will come back on you.
Mend your ways, mend the city and help us all live a better life.
Respected MCD officials,
Being a resident of Delhi for the last 11 years I've seen the city transform from a dusty under-construction hot place to a still dusty, flyoverized place preparing itself for the 2010 common wealth games. I've known it through the highs of flyover and metro trains to the lows of BRT corridor, terror attacks, rapes, murders and thefts, but still I keep living out of compulsion, out of hope. As many say it is tough to live in a metro, the word 'live' makes me laugh at my helplessness, at my fate, still I live, out of hope and compassion for the country I was born in.
You gave me the feeling of moon when I drove my car through the roads of Delhi, those craters and bumps that still echo in my head and all I want to say is thank you for your gratitude.
I behaved like an obedient citizen, followed almost all rules, threw the waste in the garbage bin, seldom did I pee on the road side or spit paan on a public wall but still I am disappointed.
And it is not only me.
Every morning the thought of driving on the city's road with dust, pot holes and excess of traffic enough to put off the mood for the entire day. If the weather is unwilling the situation only gets worse. All this while you are cosily sitting on the tax payers money and enjoying your cup of tea. Every day when millions of us break our back, heads and limbs on the road due to the holes the size of graves, each one of us curses you, and yes we really do, from the bottom of our hearts. And possibly I am talking to deaf ears, but remember a day will come, when your body, soft and vulnerable and with not a drop of free tea, you'll go one the same road, break your bone and curse your own ignorance, for every ounce of work you taught your juniors will come back on you.
Mend your ways, mend the city and help us all live a better life.