It wasn't quite a normal day for Mumbai. The roads were empty but the bus stops were crowded. The air felt fresh yet so full of hope and frustration. Some people waited in long queues at the bus stop while the others chose to walk all the way to their work places and destinations. Yes, it was another day of rickshaw strike in Mumbai and the fast-paced lives of the people had almost come to a halt.
As I walked down the street, I could notice the rising tension between the souls. Men literally bulged out of the heavily loaded busy in order to reach their destination on time.
The sudden strike wasn't an unusual thing for me as many a times it's impossible to get a rickshaw to my way home from college; and me, along with my bunch of friends, walk down all the way.
Since it was afternoon time, and the summer heat came crashing on us, we almost looked like dead corpses walking from the grave, totally burned down by the sun and stopping by a million times to get something to drink. The unbearable sun seemed hard to be defeated as the journey seemed never-ending.
Walking miles in the scorching 38°C(which was also the hottest day in April in 2 years), it wasn't difficult to realise the importance of the staple mode of transport for the middle-class.
We live in an era where our life takes a turn on an encounter with such minute hurdles. The torturous rejection by every 'rickshawallah' to take us to our destination would never be felt by the one's travelling in private cars. It's the kind of punishment that we have to bear without committing a crime. Why should we suffer during such circumstances? What wrong have we done by travelling in rickshaws paying the ever-increasing fares? Why has owning a car become this important?
The demands of the people standing for the strike may or may not be fulfilled, but at the end of the day, it's the common masses who have to suffer. And sadly, there's nothing that anyone does to hear our demands and try solving them.