Ever been in a situation where a dozen people are accessing two board lines from their extensions? I was. You keep pressing ‘0’ for the ring tone and keep getting an engaged tone. But you can’t afford to let up. So you disconnect and then repeat the procedure. You keep doing it – dozens of times in quick succession, till your pressing the ‘0’ coincides with one of the guys hanging up. It’s nirvana of sorts when you get the ring tone. But while you are still at it, mind-numbingly and finger-numbingly repeating the set procedure in your effort to break through, you realise that sometimes life is a long wait.
Standing at traffic lights waiting for green is another experience – immensely frustrating or wonderfully blissful, depending on your state of mind. Wonderfully blissful?? Well, imagine being totally in the hands of a disinterested system and being led on by something that almost reaches the level of cosmic law. A mile of vehicles in three or four columns, waiting simply because they must. In spite of the smoke and the grime, it is beautifully serene.
(That was a nice train of thought that I can’t even aspire to right now; I am into swearing mode precisely two minutes after I get on the road.)
But all these are understandable waits. And unavoidable. But why should somebody have to wait for a person? Every time? But people do – for Dharam Singh, who is for some strange reason the chief minister of Karnataka. It was a long time ago, just a month or so after he became the CM, that I saw a red carpet awaiting him on Brigade Road. I stopped for a mere moment to take in the waiting scene, and heard a comment: "Oh, they will have to wait. Dharam Singh is always late." And, so it must have been – I didn’t wait to find out.
But, with time, I have learnt that the comment I heard was no bitch. Dharam Singh DOES arrive late for every function. And, looking at what is happening – or rather, not happening – across the state, I can’t think of one reason why he has to be late. Anyway, if he has agreed to an appointment, he had better keep it – being the CM is no excuse. Last week, for the inauguration of the Ramaseva Mandali's Sri Ramanavami Music Festival, Dharam arrived at his own sweet time, while the artistes scheduled to perform afterwards (including mandolin wizard U Srinivas) warmed the sofas in the green room. The most recent instance of Dharam Singh’s tardiness has had the most unfortunate result.
Gangubai Hangal, one of the seniormost classical musicians in the country, turned 93 a month ago – at a squeeze, old enough to be Dharam Singh’s grandmother. For a function at Hubli-Dharwar to honour Smt Hangal, the chief minister arrived two whole hours late while the aged and slightly unwell musician waited. To top that, he left in the middle of Smt Hangal’s programme that followed. The people who have loved Smt Hangal’s music for more years than A-Dharam has walked the earth were understandably livid at this lack of basic courtesy, and have urged Smt Hangal to return the shawl that she had been presented with.
The extreme situation prompted Singh to come out with a feckless statement – to the effect that he himself was very upset about it all but what could he do, he had no time. What about the hundreds of people who would have waited for him for two hours – does he think they were all loafers with nothing to do? What about the Hubli corporator/mayor, who too would have been in the waiting party? Jobless, as well? Is the CM the only guy in the entire state with no time?
Smt Hangal returned the shawl with a statement that she was very upset at all that happened, both as an aged person and as a nationally renowned classical musician. I know my grandmother would have given Dharam of the Deadly Delays a thorough earful. I would of course like to box his ears red and a bit more.
Bangalore is already known for its slowness. Things were always slow; after Dharam, they have more or less ground to a halt. We can do without a guy at the helm who behaves like a mascot for sloth.
