LITTER, litter everywhere, Urban India STINKS!!!

Yes, the limerick is a modified version of the Water, water rhyme. Before we dive into that rubble, though, I want you to sample these separate incidents.

KANPUR: I take an overnight train from Delhi to Kanpur. Early in the morning, I am woken up by the sound of a particularly inquisitive kid. You know how it is with those pre-nursery ones. He has an endless ammunition of 'W's -- what, when, where, hoW. His father bats around patiently with -- Have we reached Kanpur, When will we reach Kanpur, and then the kid hurls a googly at dad -- How would I know we have reached Kanpur?

To this, the father answers matter-of-factly, "You'll know you have reached Kanpur when we spot filthy pigs on either side of the railway tracks." The man draws suppressed giggles and nods of endorsement from his co-passengers and sure as hell, there they are. As the tracks start multiplying we spot ... 2,3,4, . . .8,9,10... numerous pigs pigging out (literally) on a sumptuous diet of litter and waste. All this amongst people in various stages of sleeping, waking, bathing.

NEW DELHI: Being a Lifestyle Correspondent, my work takes me to the Taj's, Maurya's and Hyatt's of the city much more often than my humble salary could otherwise afford. I pass instructions to my driver to take us to The Oberoi's for a shoot.

"What, we'll have to eat at The Oberoi's today," the man is visibly irritated. Wondering if he's missing home food, just like me, I ask him to bear with 'outside food' for the day."No, no Madam," he declares, "it's not the outside food, just that I prefer the lunch buffet at The Graaaaand!"

Such selective display of gastronomical preferences leaves me flabbergasted for a while. I try to offer him an olive branch . .. well, errr . . . Lays chips. In two quick munches he finishes the carb-laden diet. Then with the swiftness of an acrobat that pack is tossed, heaven forbid, right in the middle of the expressway."What was that. . ." I start to protest.

"Madam, now don't start your lecture on road cleanliness (such audacity, I miss in drivers elsewhere). Have you ever thought how many people will become jobless if we stop littering?"

That was a knock-out punch. I didn't even realise what hit me. The, how do you say it, Graaaand Finale'. A voice in my mind told me you can't buy that logic but let's admit it, my wits were beaten black and blue. Just then, I did not know how to answer him.

NOIDA: I and my high-profile stylist grab a quick take-away from McDies, pick my outfit for the weekend show and rush officewards to meet some uncalled for, god-damned deadline.

Again that acrobatic pitching-of-litter-in-the-middle-of-the-road performance is repeated. This time, by my suave-looking, globe-trotting, self-proclaimed gay stylist. He catches my eye (and the look of disgust in it) and offers apologetically, "It's Ok Baba, sorry na. Besides, no one was watching."Ya right! I sigh.

MUMBAI: Finally a city where people are said to be lot more courteous than those in north India. I stay with a friend in her posh Hiranandani Estate apartment. This place has got a swanky club house, crystal clear swimming pool and sprawling well-manicured gardens.

Nothing can go wrong here, I tell myself when I see the roads being swept clean early morning. Three days into our morning walk, we come across -- what else -- litter. Wrappers of fancy chocolates, plastic bottles of Gatorade and Red Bull, man this is high profile litter.

Even before I can voice my disgust, my friend -- an Aries girl (and therefore obssessed with cleanliness), dives down and with acrobatic precision aims the litter (thankfuly) into -- where it should always have been -- a waste bin.

At last, I take in a breath of relief. Then I recount to my Australia-returned friend, what my driver had said. "If we don't litter so many people will remain jobless." "What nonsense", she snaps, "In Australia, roads are washed everyday. Why would sweepers lose jobs, they will become the cleansing squad."

That was easy. Why did it not hit my Indian mindset? Conditioning, I say. That's bad conditioning.

PS: I have long been the unofficial ragpicker of my society. There are many such posts lying vacant in your vicinity. Interested parties need not apply. Just get started. Else, this is the new age jingle for your kids:

LITTER, litter everywhere,
Urban India STINKS!!!