A day in the life of India : From the other side…
The life of an urban gareeb is very different from that of the rural gareeb, urban gareeb’s life you can say is vulgar, like an urban amir’s life. Their stories dont come out, because nobody cares about them, and obviously they dont blog. During my life i have been with many gareebs and sort of have a first hand experience. Have listened to their stories, and it has always amused me.
Their life is very interesting, with lot of gaalis, domestic violence, non-stop jhagada and all gaali galoch. The fighting that happens in a chawl will put u in shame,, i mean u will start to blush.. I used to live in railway quarters and behind our colony was this gareebo ki basti. I had a friend from there and i used to go there often, the games on that side are often more vibrant and raw. Now when u go there, every day you will find some women fighting, men beating their wife, all gali galauch.. i mean thats so lovely, jhagada’s and maram maaris are always interesting to watch,, i say it just brings the smile on your face.. these people dont wear the masks like we do, censoring our language and thoughts..
They speak gaalis in every sentence, every where, in schools, in temples, at home and women too speak a lot of gaalis, and its always amusing to see gaalis flow from a women’s mouth.. Out of the several days i spent there i will cite one day, a day in the life of the basti.
I went to this friend’s house, they were eating food and i waited for him to finish his lunch. His father was home in recess, he used to work in some factory. They were a family of 4.
Mother: “ye tumhari beti, koi kaam nahi karti, rand saali saamne waale galle pe jaakar pura din vimal(its a padiki, i mean the manikchand types) khati hai.
Girl : “bhenchod chup kar” shouts to her mother.
Father: Raat ko peekar aane de, tum dono ki maa chod ta hu..
My friend: looking at me and laughing..
I thought in my mind, i shud come here tonight, lot of action wud be there.. drunk people fighting, giving gaalis, all their nataks i have always found interesting.. they are “real humans” cruel, wicked, un-hindered. Fighting like they should fighting, saying what they should say.. unhindered, uncensored, i mean thats great.. great stuff gand phadu and thought provoking. It makes we wonder somethimes, what makes us stop being like them, what is the real reason for our faking..
We were sitting near a naala and smoking, at that time a fight erupted between two women. I got excited and said lets go and see, he seemed un-interested and said, nothing new; happens all the time.. i said chal time pass hoga..
as we came to know later that it started when one of the women threw kachra in front of another womens house. by the time we reached, it had taken new directions..
women in red saree: Saali rand, tu kitne ka leti hai na mujhe pata hai, sab ke saamne nanga kar dungi.
in yellow saare: Bhosadiki teri beti, chhat pe raat ko kyu jaati hai pata hai?. mere bete ka akkha lund leti hai.. rand ki aulaad.
in red: mere pati ko aane de shaam ko, daaru peekar tum sab ki gand phad dega.
in yellow: chudail, tera pati kya ghanta karega.. lund to khada hota nahi hai.. uska sala na-mard..
red: Akkha lund tere gand mein daalega tab pata chalega, k lund uthta hai k nahi..
Now they jumped on to each other, each of them trying to pull each others cloth off. the public getting excited.. Red women’s saare has come down. Now my friend stepped in, trying to stop the jhagada, in pretex of trying to stop, he was just groping..
After some time we got bored and left, but the jhagada kept going..
Another day, the friend told me : ” arrey yaar i have broken up with my setting”
“kyu” I asked.
“she was sitting in front of her house and was washing clothes, her boobs were all visible to every one, even the thoda part of tits were visible, so i said to take care that her boobs are not visible and to cover them with chunni while washing, she refused and i slapped her..
i laughed, and asked further so was she showing the boobs on purpose.. i m sure that rand is showing it on purpose…
Since most of the boys in this area dont go to school, they are just sitting in some naaka, near gallas and chai waalas, and do lukha giri all day. Most of them trying to be a don, smoking, chedding girls..
All day they try to make setting, most girls and women work as kaam waalis in neighbouring societies.. And they have these lovers, who will take all the money they earn in some pretex or other, may be beat sometimes to get the money.. that money goes into gambling and drinking potlis.. Then the girl takes the dick of maliks of the house they work at to make more money. If one looks at the social structure here, its just a different world here. Everything is so new, different, liberal and in extremes. The girls here are very bold, they get fucked even before periods start. As i am told about a girl, who refuses if some one wants to fuck her alone, she would say bring 2 more of your friends, she likes only group sex. She works as a nurse in some clinic and she is extremely talented at giving blow jobs..
its another story how i became friends with this guy, we all middle class friends were playing in our colony, when these group of guys came, and started playing at the same place, the ball hit one of them and it eruped into this jhagada.. i was this boy not speaking gaalis, my mother would say “good boy”.. now garma garmi began between me and this guy..
I: saale, tu bechme aakar kyu khel raha hai
He: Madar chod, meri behan ko bula k launga, to tera lund kaat k kha jayegi, bhencod, meri behan tere pe huge gi to saale tu doob jaayega..
Me: dumbstuck!! where is this guy from! is he alien.. what is he talking.. then i started laughing, i was happy, i mean what kind of person would say that his sister will eat my dick.., i mean i liked this guy,, then we became friends…
Now i m not in contact with that friend, but the stories that he told me still stays, krishna the iron wala, he had been in that gareeb class, and i often ask him to tell the stories, he has lot of interesting stories.. I would say, one should live for some time in these slums, its really a mind boggling experience, may be one would learn a few things, may be one would understand that there is no such thing as vulgarity, its just the society that we are born into makes them feel vulgar.. And its not sex only that i find in these ghettos, there are some love stories, some stories of sacrifice and brother hood. But those stories are common and main stream, here i write about un common topics, i would say it parallel blogging..
P.S. You might say that the picture doesnt go well with the content,, it does, surely it does.. May be you should look at the post in terms of the picture not the picture in terms of the post..