The chattering classes love to whine about all that is wrong with the world including garbage pile ups and the next moment add their bit to the increasing waste wealth.
Enjoy Morning Meanderings with a hot cup of tea or coffee and some cookies to munch on the food for thought. 😊 ☕️
“We are fed up, the municipal van comes sporadically, picks up the garbage and within a couple of hours, the stench again becomes unbearable.”
“We don’t like cleanliness. We are litterbugs all!”
“Look, how that poor cow is chewing on that polythene bag! Such a sad scenario.”
“They break their fast here, then they lunch here, alas! Kya hoga iss desh kaa?”
“The sewers are being desilted and the muck is very conveniently kept on the roadside.”
Today all morning walkers seemed to be obsessively talking about the rampant garbage- cursing, snorting, grimacing and vigorously thumping their displeasure.
“Kya hoga iss desh ka?”
The well-fed smugness of this well-fed man drew from me a well-hidden smile of amusement. I recalled, often seeing him furtively throwing his garbage from his fourth storey house onto the vacant plot next to the apartments. Once he had caught me looking disapprovingly in his direction, but had very conveniently turned away.
I noticed that because of the rains, all the vacant plots in the neighborhood had been turned into ponds, and I was happy to find a pair of Chinese coots blissfully wading there. I don’t know why, Yeats’ delightful poem, ‘The Lake Isle of Innisfree’, flashed in memory and I found myself yearning for a small log cabin, fronting a lake, watched over by the elegant willows, which time and again, trailed their leafy fingers in the serene water, where Chinese coots paddled merrily and where I could hear only the flap of’ ‘linnet’s wings’, the chirps of cicadas and the exuberant susurration of the grasshoppers.
Far from litter and litterbugs. Ah, such a piece of paradise!
There was a woman walking on, crinkling her nose at the rampant garbage, carrying a brand new umbrella. It appeared she was just yearning to click it open, but there was no rain, so how could the umbrella be justified? She looked at the sky, which showed no signs of imminent rain, and the sun, whose fiery rays could have justified the presence of the umbrella, also appeared slothful.
Suddenly, a mongrel started barking at her without any apparent reason, (or maybe it was barking its disapproval at the presence of an umbrella on a non-rainy day). She ran after the mongrel with the umbrella, and was about to hit it, but it ran faster and disappeared in the adjoining lane.
Now she was the very personification of the Cheshire cat, but with a difference. A Cheshire cat with an umbrella. A Cheshire cat, which had just chased a dog. She smiled and smiled. Infected by her smile, the sun peeped from behind a cloud and smiled too. The woman quickly clicked open her brand new umbrella to put it on her head and now her brand new umbrella glowed with a happy glow of usefulness.
The sun was spewing fire, but she was well-protected against it. Well-hidden by the umbrella, she failed to notice the hillock of garbage lying right on the center of the road, and alas, toppled over, umbrella and all! Two boys from the left and two girls from the right dashed to her rescue and pulled her out of the mess, to the accompaniment of the barking mongrel who had reappeared.
Now there was not just fire, there was venom too. The woman lashed out at everyone in the vicinity for their habit of littering, venom on her tongue and fire on her head. Unbeknownst to everyone around, I sneaked towards the log cabin of my imagination and slumped on the cushioned settee in the patio.
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