It Doesnt Pay To Be Good On Dussehra

On the morning of October 11, I had to receive someone at the New Delhi railway station. That was Dussehra, the day when a ten-armed goddess is immersed and a ten-headed demon burnt. I have never understood why Ravana has been burnt for thousand of years. He kidnapped someone elses wife, but people have gone unpunished for more. Nor, if one reads Valmikis Ramayana, does Ravana come across as a demon. His name is Dashagriva and barring some extrapolated parts, he doesnt even have ten heads. However, today, Ravana symbolises evil and Durga symbolises good. Dussehra is a day on which one should be good, although that was difficult at the New Delhi railway station.

It began with parking. I ventured in through the Paharganj side. There was no place to park. Cars were parked all over, but these were No Parking areas and boards proclaimed this prominently. I wasnt going to break the law on Dussehra. A barely discernible arrow pointed towards the official parking area and I headed for that. The lot was full, but the attendant at the entry didnt tell me this. He charged me five rupees, which you have to pay as you enter, and I drove around looking for space. There was none. Drove around is a euphemism. I inched forward, with cars to the right, left, front and back, honking and spluttering. Negotiating various twists and turns, I emerged at the exit, where I handed over my receipt and left. I had paid five rupees for a difficult test of driving, endured three knocks on the bumper and wasted half an hour. I could have argued with the attendants, but I wasnt going to argue on Dussehra. What should law abiding citizens do? I took a detour via Connaught Place and arrived on the Ajmeri Gate side.

The station is being renovated. You appreciate this if you come in through the Ajmeri Gate side. Everything has been dug up and there is plenty of parking space. The fencing between platforms and the rest of the world has disappeared. You can enter freely. The problem was that I wanted a platform ticket and the counter had disappeared. There were a couple of counters that sold tickets.. But the attendants looked aghast when I wanted a platform ticket. No one pays for train rides and this crazy guy wanted a platform ticket. Finally, I located a counter exclusively meant for platform tickets. But it was unmanned. The attendant had disappeared for tea. I stuck to my guns. It was my fundamental right that I be able to get a platform ticket if I wanted to. Meanwhile, I had been accosted by a beggar. I informed him that according to law, he could be fined Rs 2,000 if he was found begging on railway property. Soon, there were ten beggars around me. Apparently, I had been misunderstood. They had never heard of beggars being fined Rs 2,000. So they had concluded that the government was dispensing Rs 2,000 per beggar from this counter. The general bedlam attracted the attention of the missing clerk and he resurfaced. Muttering under his breath about people who wasted other peoples time, he shooed off the beggars and handed me my ticket. It was only later that I learnt that there would be a tatkal scheme for those who wanted platform tickets.

I now had my platform ticket. I had already wasted a lot of time on parking and the ticket. I would have been late for the train, but for the truism that trains never arrive on time. However, I needed to find out when the train was arriving and on what platform. This information was impossible to obtain. There were no enquiry counters on the Ajmeri Gate side. I had to cross the overbridge, hand over the platform ticket on the Paharganj side and exit before I could find an enquiry counter. I had to buy a platform ticket afresh. Perhaps I should tell you that the train did not arrive at the platform indicated by the enquiry counter. A coolie gave me the right information.

What of the future? Simple. Dussehra is over. I neednt obey the law anymore.