India Shining - proclaims a poster from a wall of a government office. "From all the spit that has glazed our beloved motherland?" I wonder. We consider it our birthright to spit as and where we please.
All public places, especially walls and staircase landings, are a testimony to this obsession. This national habit makes me recoil in horror. There is hardly anything one can do, other than scurry away as fast as possible, in those precious two seconds, when the spitter is gathering supplies from the depths of his soul and is ready to slaver the world in all its slimy ugliness.
As I step out of my house, I keep my fingers crossed lest I encounter this spitting specimen. But it's as wishful a thinking, as my hope to travel to outer space or win a billion dollars in lottery one day. The more wary I get, the more spitters I witness. It seems that they do it on purpose. They seek me out and spit just when I cross them. I look away from one, only to witness someone else indulging in the act. No escape! "Keep calm! Glue your eyes to the ground." I say to myself. It's no better this way as I try to navigate through a veritable spit mine. The road is peppered with blobs of same stuff in various colors, shapes and vintages. Ugh!
God forbid if you are a pedestrian or riding a two-wheeler and you happen to be in the trajectory of a bus passenger's liquid missile. As with hierarchies in general, it's better to be high in the hierarchy of vehicles, to avoid being a victim.
How do people generate such copious amounts of spit? The answer lies in incessant chewing of paan, gutkha and supari. This chewing gets addictive as most gutkhas or suparis are laced with tobacco. A househeld help told me the reason she got into the habit. She had to get up early in mornings to reach work. With no time to have her own breakfast, she used to suppress hunger by chewing supari. In no time, she got addicted.
We are mistaken if we think that only the economically poor strata of society is afflicted with this habit. The sight of car passengers rolling down their windows to get rid of their possessions isn't uncommon.
While taking morning walks in my apartment complex, I used to meet a well-to-do senior citizen on a regular basis. One fine day when I turned a corner, I spotted him getting rid of his spittle. He was least apologetic about it. "And there goes away my magical morning!" I mourned. I definitely couldn't preach him but gave him the most dignified disgusting look and hoped he got the message. The next day at my walk, I expected him to have learnt his lesson. Sadly, he remained as merry a spitter as ever.
If a Rupee were fined for every time a person spit in public places, it would fill the coffers of our government. Or if spitting was an Olympic sport, we would sweep the dais, winning all medals in all possible categories. But alas, spitting doesn't do any such wonders for us, other than spreading unhygienic conditions and making us look like an uncouth country. If we don't ditch the habit, we will probably soon earn a slogan of "India Spitting"!
PS: This piece was published in Open-Ed section of The Hindu on 27th August, 2017.
http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/open-page/spitters-galore-without-a-care/article19565992.ece
As I step out of my house, I keep my fingers crossed lest I encounter this spitting specimen. But it's as wishful a thinking, as my hope to travel to outer space or win a billion dollars in lottery one day. The more wary I get, the more spitters I witness. It seems that they do it on purpose. They seek me out and spit just when I cross them. I look away from one, only to witness someone else indulging in the act. No escape! "Keep calm! Glue your eyes to the ground." I say to myself. It's no better this way as I try to navigate through a veritable spit mine. The road is peppered with blobs of same stuff in various colors, shapes and vintages. Ugh!
God forbid if you are a pedestrian or riding a two-wheeler and you happen to be in the trajectory of a bus passenger's liquid missile. As with hierarchies in general, it's better to be high in the hierarchy of vehicles, to avoid being a victim.
How do people generate such copious amounts of spit? The answer lies in incessant chewing of paan, gutkha and supari. This chewing gets addictive as most gutkhas or suparis are laced with tobacco. A househeld help told me the reason she got into the habit. She had to get up early in mornings to reach work. With no time to have her own breakfast, she used to suppress hunger by chewing supari. In no time, she got addicted.
We are mistaken if we think that only the economically poor strata of society is afflicted with this habit. The sight of car passengers rolling down their windows to get rid of their possessions isn't uncommon.
While taking morning walks in my apartment complex, I used to meet a well-to-do senior citizen on a regular basis. One fine day when I turned a corner, I spotted him getting rid of his spittle. He was least apologetic about it. "And there goes away my magical morning!" I mourned. I definitely couldn't preach him but gave him the most dignified disgusting look and hoped he got the message. The next day at my walk, I expected him to have learnt his lesson. Sadly, he remained as merry a spitter as ever.
If a Rupee were fined for every time a person spit in public places, it would fill the coffers of our government. Or if spitting was an Olympic sport, we would sweep the dais, winning all medals in all possible categories. But alas, spitting doesn't do any such wonders for us, other than spreading unhygienic conditions and making us look like an uncouth country. If we don't ditch the habit, we will probably soon earn a slogan of "India Spitting"!
PS: This piece was published in Open-Ed section of The Hindu on 27th August, 2017.
http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/open-page/spitters-galore-without-a-care/article19565992.ece
1 comment:
"It seems that they do it on purpose. They seek me out and spit just when I cross them."
Loved it...not the spitting but the way you have spit at them with a powerful diction.
"Merry spitter"- how apt.
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