Year: 2018

Diminishing Returns II

Diminishing Returns II – A Coolie's Baggage

By LokMarg Publishing


Bachchan and Govinda had played the character with aplomb. Besides, he would make good money at one of the busiest railway platforms in the country. But times have changed. Modern-age bags with wheels and newly-installed escalators have eaten into his earnings. Dayal opens up to LokMarg:   I started work as a coolie at the Gorakhpur Railway station in 1983.

This was long before the likes of Amitabh Bachchan and Govinda glamourised our profession. Till about six years ago, I did not find any time to sit or relax during my eight-hour shift, that sometimes stretched up to 10 hours. I managed to earn somewhere between Rs 200 to Rs 500 per day. In peak seasons like summer or winter holidays or the wedding season, my earnings touched even Rs 1000 a day. But six years ago, things started changing.

Modern technology reached Gorakhpur station and we, the coolies had to bear the brunt. Passengers can now use the escalators and conveniently carry their luggage with them. Besides this, almost everyone is using trolley bags these days. Be it young passengers, women, elderly or even children, everyone is capable enough to pull at least one bag each. And we are left with no option but to watch patiently and wait for a passenger, who might actually need our help.

The Gorakhpur railway station has the world’s longest railway platform (1.3 km). Naturally, coolies played a rather important role here. Earlier, several new boys joined us every month. But now, take a walk along the platform, and you will barely find a young coolie here. New people are refraining from joining this profession. Even my younger son, who started work as a coolie 10 years ago on my insistence, now questions my decision.

The scarcity of work has also diluted the norms of the union (regarding the work hours) and now you can work at will. Earlier, we used to have an eight-hour shift to ensure that all the registered coolies get work. But due to scarcity of work and reducing number of coolies, we are now free to work at will. However, this does not fetch us much money. Almost every day, I go back home empty-handed. Sometimes, I stay back in the night hoping for some generous passenger, but it is all in vain.

On some lucky days, we earn Rs 200 to Rs 300 but that only happens during the wedding or the festive seasons. New technology has made life convenient for others but has eaten into our livelihoods. I am 63 years old, and at this age changing my profession is not an option. Neither do I have the luxury to retire. I don’t have anything against new technology.

But I would like to question our political leaders who talk about introduction of new technology and job creation in the same breath. Have they cared to spare a thought about people like us, who suddenly discover that the job that fetched them their daily bread for years, has now become redundant. What plans do they have for us? Chief Minister, Yogi Adityanath, are you listening?

Also In The Series: Brass Band Losing Rhythm
This Potter’s Wheel Spins Little Money

Diminishing Returns I – 'Off-Key Brass Band'

By LokMarg


The sounds of tuning the musical instruments – drums, trumpets, clarinets, cymbals – filled the air. Sometimes, the band would break into an impromptu performance. Their happiest moments were when they had mastered a new tune. In the evenings, I would lead the band troupe (this could range from 12-20 players) and walk like the captain of a battalion with my head held high.

There would be another part of the team of about 15-20 daily-wagers who carried rows of chandeliers to keep the path illuminated. The wedding processions would look royal because of us. Our patrons were quick to recognise the talent of the band members. They were showered with cash rewards and praises when they played music on demand.

The musicians were hired on the basis of an annual contract as it was difficult to find musicians during the wedding season. Although they were not paid much, they remained loyal to the brand they worked for. This was probably the best platform for them to showcase their talent. Our schedule used to be jam-packed during the wedding season – with hardly any ‘lean day’.

But this was 12 years ago. Now almost all our days are lean. The wedding season is just around the corner but we hardly have any bookings. We still have a dedicated trained staff who have mastered the drums, trumpets, clarinets and cymbals but they are left with no other option to look for other jobs. Indian weddings have changed. New and cheaper ‘DJ bands’ have eaten into our business. Now, anyone, who has a bit of money can jump into the business with a small one-time investment.

It doesn’t matter whether you have the ear for music or not. You hardly need to know the technicalities. All you need is a trolley that can carry huge speakers, a good music system that can play songs and a collection of music on a laptop.

The DJ just needs some basic knowledge about running a music system. Nowadays, they can even play music through their smart phone and connect it to speakers! My brass band team is now jobless and they do not fit anywhere with this new avatar of celebrations. Once, I thought of including this new trend into my band but the mere thought was horrible. It would have left my talented bunch of musicians without any work, walking like dressed-up puppets along the DJ bands.

Also In The Series: The Baggage Of A Coolie
This Potter’s Wheel Spins Little Money
Cyber Crime I

Cyber Crime I – 'Busting An e-Ticket Racket'

By LokMarg Publishing


I knew that change was near, and that nature of crime was going to be transformed with changing technology. Without any official backing, I started to read about cyber crimes. I then pursued professional courses on the subject and today I am a PhD holder. I was also conferred with the Cyber Cop of the Year (2012) award by Data Security Council of India (DSCI) NASSCOM.

Over the past few years, my interest in cyber crime and financial fraud has brought me many digital crime assignments from central agencies and other government bodies. Recently, I busted a gang of software sellers, who helped railway touts book train tickets within a fraction of seconds. Booking train tickets on the Indian Railways Catering and Tourism Corporation (IRCTC) website generally takes several minutes, even with high-speed Internet connections.

Tracking this multi-crore, pan-India racket was a tough job. The software they used bypassed all the security norms put in place by the Central government website. The agents would merely fill in the details of the passengers and the required train, along with the mode of payment and voila… the tickets were booked. An in-depth analysis of the software showed that it provided proxy IP addresses; bypassed IRCTC captcha and bank OTP; allowed forms autofill; and logins with multiple IDs.

The servers were usually based outside India, allowing the users to fraudulently gain unauthorised access to a computer network in contravention of rules and regulations. These software makers were based out of major metro cities and were connected with agents through different WhatsApp groups. It was thus important for us to penetrate their network.

My team also went undercover and one of our team members posed as a customer to see how an agent booked the ticket. And then we followed the electronic trail. Following the crackdown, IRCTC has introduced multiple security features to their website to keep a check on such bookings. But you can never be sure of a foolproof system.

The nature and magnitude of cyber crimes are changing every day. Last month, I arrested four hackers, who booked tickets online from the website of the UP’s State Road Transport Corporation (UPSRTC) without paying up. We managed to figure their modus operandi before they could cause a bigger damage. We found that they were exploiting the vulnerabilities of the online payment system of the UPSRTC website to book counterfeit e-tickets through a software called ‘Burp Suite’. After procuring these free tickets, they would then sell them on WhatsApp and Facebook groups.

Robbers no longer need to enter a bank with guns to steal money, it can happen with just a click of a button. Here, the robber doesn’t have a face, or any record, all we have is a digital footprint. He or She can operate from any part of the world. Most cyber criminals are young and energetic and eager to learn. They know a bit of scripting.

And with a few sessions of hacking tutorials available on the internet, they are ready for the kill. They are learning something new each day, so cops working on cyber crime, need to hone their skills every day. The digital world comes with its own set of banes. While technology has made our lives hassle-free, it has also opened new avenues for thefts and frauds. From withdrawing money through cloned cards to trading vital information on the web, all this is happening in India. Unfortunately, not many in our law enforcement agencies are skilled enough to tackle such crimes.

Flood Survivor

It Never Rains, It Pours: Flood Survivor

By LokMarg


I usually love the rains. Sipping coffee when it is raining is very relaxing. But after this (2018) monsoon, things will never be the same again. It started in May with what seemed like a cloud-burst. Then, there were incessant bouts of downpours. Initially, the problems were limited to waterlogging, potholes etc. The first reports floods came in Kuttanad (Alleppey).

By August 15, when the nation celebrated Independence Day, Kerala began to witness the wrath of nature. Reports said the dams across Kerala, mainly Idukki dam on the Periyar and Shabarigiri on the Pamba, were overflowing. Yet, nobody estimated the magnitude of the calamity in store. On August 17, many districts sounded a red alert. I live in Haripad, Alappuzha, which flooded because of improper maintenance of dams in the nearby districts.

We heard that several leaders blamed the rising waters to beef-eating sinners in Kerala. I believe we reap what we sow. It was just a natural process after ecological rampage. I remembered the Bible quote: Let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall, no one is exempted from actions of nature. My phone had not stopped buzzing all this while.

My aunt called from the US kept advising me to “take your necessary certificates, get off and reach some safe zone”. We started rearranging and shifting our items, even packed our trolley and backpacks with the essentials in a bid to move out fast since the water level was increasing in the nearby river. That night we slept very late. At 6 am, we woke up to find the courtyard in ankle-deep water. The passersby, familiar faces, were all hurrying to safe camps.

My friends and neighbours were running away from their homes near the river, leaving behind a life’s worth of savings and memories. When I asked them where they were headed, they said they didn’t know. “Everything is gone! We are running to save our lives at least”. By the next day, I realised that things were getting worse. There were rumours that the water may rise to 3 metres.

I am 5 feet 3 inch and don’t know how to swim. Can you imagine how frightened I was! I called for information about relief camp in the vicinity and whether we could move there. One was being run by an uncle of mine from his new house which was multistoried. That evening when water rose in our compound steadily, we made our decision to leave.

I bundled some clothing, my documents wrapped in plastic covers and some food item and left for my uncle’s place. Our trip there was a long way through knee-deep pools of water. Thankfully, the relief centre was equipped with landlines and a generator, which helped us charge our phones and stay in touch with friends and family. We also managed to get groceries from the nearby town for the next few days via service trucks and rafts.

Day passed, with no relief from pouring water, nights were moonless and the birds silent. Three days later, the sun broke and I heard an ambulance. There were boats and rafts all around our building, and some tractors loaded with people. It looked as if entire town was moving past. From the balcony of our building, I saw a bridge nearby and army men rafting in. There were monstrous sounds of helicopters over us too. The water on the ground was at stomach-level and people of all age were climbing up the ladder handed out by the rescue operators.

Even at such moments, people joked about ‘how a beastly vehicle has turned out to be a saviour’. We were taken to a proper relief camp where we felt safer and calmer. I met many friends who had run away from the flood. There was mobile connectivity and even food was available, though overpriced; imagine paying Rs 80 for a bun! Over the next few days, radio was our only way for information and entertainment.

And we realised how informative its programmes were. I volunteered to visit other camps with supply of food and water. I found young and eager volunteers performing services to assist officials and in some cases even in the absence of any official. Some heroes don’t wear capes. With water levels residing, we decided to return to our house. The route was dotted with abandoned houses, covered with grime, broken walls and damaged vehicles.

Some people were busy cleaning and rearranging their lives. We found the floor covered with slime and mud. My parents, my sister and I got down to the job of cleaning, an effort that took us three days, and yet the stains on the walls and floor refused to go. We had lost our washing machine, motor pump and many other gadgets to the flood, and battled poisonous snakes that had nestled into the compound.

But I also picked up valuable lessons for life. We heard about marriages, festivals and other celebratory functions were either postponed or observed humbly in relief camps. I know some people donated their dowry money to the disaster relief fund. Onam came, and people celebrated its true spirit – “humanity”, and “Maveli naadu vaanedum kaalem manusherellam onnupolae”, the concept of Ram Rajya advocated by Mahatma Gandhi. We were helped by strangers, whose names we forgot to ask, whose castes or faiths we never bothered to know; there was unity without any barrier.

Aadhaar II

Aadhaar II – 'It Has Made Life Easier For Me’

By LokMarg Publishing


And then began the drill. Arranging for a new cylinder could take days so I had to be on my toes, praying that the cylinder does not go kaput at an odd hour. The first exercise was to take the empty cylinder to the distributer, hoping that a refill was available. On many occasions, a refill wasn’t available. We were told that the truck with new cylinders would be arriving ‘shortly’. The word ‘shortly’ here meant anything between a few hours to a couple of days.

Our job was to wait and order food from outside, or beg for a cylinder from unobliging neighbours. Or if the wait becomes too unbearable, the last resort was to buy a refilled cylinder from the black market by paying a good extra price. However, my Aadhaar card has been a godsend for me. I linked my 12-digit Aadhaar identification number to my LPG consumer number.

It has helped me in getting my cylinder refilled on time and at the same time has helped me save some money. I now get the LPG subsidy amount, which is about Rs 300 – Rs 350 directly transferred to my bank account. Though, the amount that is transferred is not much, the amount that I manage to save is enough to sail us through the month. There are other benefits too.

Buying a sim card, for instance, has now become easier. Earlier we had to produce a big bunch of documents for procuring a sim card. But now, all I need to give is my thumb impression and Aadhaar card.

The government must start programmes to make people aware about the benefits of the Aadhaar card. In my personal capacity, I always try to make more people aware of the benefits. I am happy that the Supreme Court has upheld the constitutional validity of the Aadhaar scheme. Several housewives like me are beneficiaries of the scheme.

Juvenile Home

‘I Found Freedom Inside Juvenile Home’

By LokMarg Publishing


I had always enjoyed hanging out with my elder brother and his group of friends. That night of January 2015 was no different. Just that the night played out an endless medley of nightmares for me. My brother and his college seniors had planned to watch a movie together and I decided to tag along. While coming out of the movie theatre, my brother and his friends got into a violent argument with another group of drunken men.

Things happened at the speed of light. My brother was singled out by those men and they began to thrash him viciously. For a second, I thought they will not stop till my brother is dead. I picked up stones and began throwing them at the attackers. One of the stones hit an attacker on his head and he fell down like a tree. There was blood. His friends tried to move him but he wasn’t responding. Petrified, my brother and I ran away.

We did not go home that night and stayed at a dharamshala. In the night, my mind was clouded with repetitive thoughts. Running away from the scene did not seem like a good idea any more. A voice inside me kept telling me that I had killed someone. I called up my parents and recounted the entire incident. My parents decided to go by the book and took me to the police station. Since I was 16, I was sent to an observation home for juvenile delinquents till the Juvenile Justice Board decided my fate.

Here, I found myself surrounded by strange inmates and bullies. I was found guilty of attempt to murder and was sentenced to spend two-and-a-half months in the observation home. I could see my future dimming before my eyes. For the first 15 days, nobody from my family came to visit. It took me some time to comprehend the fact that my parents had disowned me.

At the juvenile home, the bullies would make a newcomer wash other inmates’ clothes and run errands. There were all kind of boys: some kept to themselves; others moved in groups; then there were those whom even home staff avoided to confront. But I was lucky to find a counsellor who heard me out patiently and offered valuable guidance. I started to shed my burden of guilt to him. A simple task given by my counselor turned my life.

I was asked to draw a list of all inmates, who were willing to leave behind their past and start afresh. While most of the inmates at the home would talk about running away to plan other crimes, there were those who wanted a respectable life. Our counselor asked the latter group to read books and acquire knowledge. Soon, other inmates began to look up to me and approached me with their queries.

I discovered that I had a natural flair for public speaking. Whenever a senior official from court or a judicial officer visited the home, I was invited to deliver a welcome speech. It is funny how the ‘confinement’ taught me to speak freely. But I was oblivious of the challenges that awaited me in the world outside, the ones that would tie me up in invisible shackles.

After being released, living with the family and trying to lead a normal life was an uphill task. I was barred from leaving the house. My family was embarrassed of my conduct, and I found it hard to come to terms with the dejection. I missed my books and wanted to get back to formal education. Meanwhile, my father also passed away and my older brother became the head of the family.

I requested him to let me go out and get in touch with my counselor at the juvenile home. To make ends meet, I took up a job at an automobile workshop. That was the worst time of my life. People exploited and mistreated me. Arbitrary pay cut, no leaves and an exploitive work schedule took a toll on me. But my counselor stood behind me in these times and suggested that I re-appear for my Class XII board exams. He even took care of all the expenses. I studied hard and managed to clear my board exams with a distinction.

My counsellor was happy with my marks and roped me in for some para-legal volunteering. At Delhi’s Legal Aid, my new job was to conduct legal awareness programmes and help people access legal aid. There, by sheer chance, a senior law official told me that he had once heard my speech at the juvenile home. He recommended my name to a football academy to be trained as a coach. There, I found a renewed love for the sport – something that I had forgotten in the course of time.

I began coaching football. This job has not only given a sense of respect but also provided ample opportunity to pursue my graduation from Delhi University. My day starts at 4 am and ends at 9 pm. My schedule is packed with college, coaching and martial arts training but I love it. I have also started a non-profit organisation to raise awareness on various social issues. I have turned a new leaf, and have no time to look back at my dark past.