But it’s a non-issue!” complained Binnoo, who is the self-appointed supervisor of our Friday discussion group. “Please don’t make a joke of our FourEss—the Samosas & Serious Study Set.”
We have this select group of residents of our condo that gathers weekly in the patchy park squeezed between towers three and four, to examine major issues and have tea and samosas. There is never any formal agenda, and almost every conversation degenerates into Fauji’s rants about global hotspots. Brigadier Sharma, aka Fauji, struts like a peacock in his faded side cap with that lone embroidered star, twirling his handlebar moustache. He once appeared on TV as a defence expert and has not shut up since, droning on about Ukraine, Gaza Patti, and the South China Sea.
Following Binnoo’s outburst, we all looked at Fauji for a reaction. Fauji readily agreed with Binnoo. “Yes,” he intoned, “It is a frivolous issue of no concern whatsoever. There’s no point in discussing something as vague as air pollution. It may be eternal, but it’s irrelevant!”
With Fauji having spoken, we thought the matter was settled, but that no-good Gopu is such a disruptive element. “So maybe it is of no consequence but do you all even know how fashionable it is to talk about AQI and PM2.5? Just for fun, let’s chat about pollution and choking and fudging AQI numbers and reduced lifespans!”
Fauji glared. Binnoo scowled. Bhatti, our resident fence-sitter who keeps flip-flopping, chimed in vaguely, “In the 1960s, London used to have such thick smog that they called it a ‘peasouper’? And China, which has a much slower growth rate than our own viksit-ing Bharat, fixed the issue of polluted air in Beijing in just a couple of years.”
Illustration: Job P.K.
“But they aren’t a democracy,” sneered Sethi. “We can’t adopt draconian measures. After all, we must consider the interests of our voters and of those who finance our party. We must honour the will of the people!”
Everyone knows that Sethi works for the local municipal councillor, and he sees everything through the politician’s prism. “So, let’s not waste time on matters about which nothing can be done.” For good measure he added, “Such discussions go against the charter of FourEss.”
Charter? I shot a baffled glance at Mazhar Bhai, who shrugged in answer to my unasked question, “Charter? We have a charter?”
“But we must do something about the smoke, the construction work, the motor vehicles, the stubble burning, the whatnots. It’s a national emergency!” said Gopu from behind his mask. His voice, though passionate, was muffled and Fauji elaborated for the benefit of everybody.
“Gopu wants us to do something. Being a Dilliwala, he thinks Delhi is the nation and the nation is Delhi. Haha! Gopu dear, even China would not have bothered about a minor irritant like pollution if it were not hosting the Olympics. It was merely because the sissies from Europe and the US made such a song and dance about murky air that China cleaned up Beijing.”
Timir, the daft old duffer from upstairs, piped up idiotically: “Aha! That’s why Modiji’s gunning for the 2036 Games—to force a cleanup!”
Fauji told him to shut up. “If Modiji were concerned, he would have said something about the situation once or twice when he was visiting Bhutan. Or South Africa. But did he? No!”
Just then, Basu shuffled in, hacking like a choked exhaust pipe. He has been coughing in a rather morbid manner these last few weeks. Between wheezes, he gasped, “This... cough... is from quitting smoking. You know, cigarettes… their filter tips… protect the lungs… very effectively.”
Kani Babu weighed in with his Bihari drawl. He reminded us yet again that he had written a prize-winning essay on global warming in 1965, and hence he is an acknowledged environmentalist and weather expert.
“The issue will get blown away with the ‘pachhiya’, the westerlies, in February, so why all this hoo-ha? Did Mota Bhai—which incidentally means Big Brother—refer to it even once while electioneering in Bihar? Has Bhupender Yadav, our environment minister, ever said anything about this so-called problem? For that matter, has anyone even heard the name Bhupender Yadav? Let me tell you, just the other day a senior party leader declared that cloud seeding, water sprinklers and air purifiers may be snake oil remedies, but they are great for the economy, while simultaneously generating employment. Great optics, too!”
Soon our usual tea arrived, and silence prevailed as we started gobbling the hot samosas. But surprisingly, there were several extra samosas. Binnoo remarked that the surplus was because six members of our group had gone to Goa.
“Will you believe it,” he said, “Some alarmist doctors have recommended that people with weak lungs should leave the NCR for a few weeks. Those who could, have fled. Now, who wants an extra samosa?”
I eyed the surplus samosas, shoved my N95 mask aside, and grabbed two. But Gopu looked so forlorn that I felt compelled to offer him one.
“Gopu,” I advised, “No one is bothered a damn! In this season of mists and shallow breathlessness, why worry about lungs when samosas are on offer?”
“And pass the chutney.”
K.C. Verma is former chief of R&AW. kcverma345@gmail.com