Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying

Reflection, Imitation, Experience

Indian Middle Class Life and Stories.

Every day when I wake-up and get prepared for my office, I pack my lunch made by my maid and miss my mom. How she helped me to get dressed for school or how she used to pack my favorite dishes during my college-life when I use-to go home every weekend!

Or at early night when I chat with my dad, queries regarding health, job, life and last attended parties, future plans and more. Sometime the whole conversation turned into a simple question by my mom, “When you will come here to meet us?”pinaki

And I remained silent like ever. Mom has a power; she can feel some unspoken words. She naturally do-not repeat a same question. She leaves the topic when she feels I am uncomfortable with that.

But this is only question she loves to ask me again and again!

He is a father, who has invested all of his savings for education of his children and to earn minimum daily needs and wants. A perfect representative of Indian Middle Class society, who preferred to invest on Education, rather increases his bank balance, whose expenditure is same as his income, at the age of pre-retirement. He had invested his time to his children as much as possible and now he deserves to get the same attention from his children as he knows he is also experiencing the old-age problems and he need some-one apart from his caring wife who is also struggling from fevers and pains due to age and nerve conduction and failed to keep any faith on his physical condition. He deserves a hand who can help him to reach the nearest reliable hospital and can bring the medicine on time.

She is a mom; she had a general ‘mango-people’ homemaker mindset of having the best of possible things. From the remotest village where electricity is only 2 years old and villagers still cross 10 km to reach nearest bus-stop and avail the public transport system, may be never imagined such distributed nuclear family across a country but still happy seeing her children fighting to get a position. She still wishes her son could be a school teacher in a nearest high-school and can stay at home at-least.

And me! Once I dreamt to be near my parents and failed, when I felt that life can be easy but career is not secured in Kolkata. Negligible economic growth and industry-related statistics and HR-satisfaction survey and un-predictable responses never encouraged me to be in Kolkata. The dream has been faded, I never realized when.

I am a person who enjoys the cheap ride in Kolkata, cheap food and the lazy moments with family and friends, imagining life is so beautiful, but in Delhi, from seniors, friends and experienced colleagues, I am well convinced that this is not a place to grow well for a non-IT profile. Everyday I wake up early morning and reach home at night; in between I mix with so many identities. I am a daily passenger who pays the same for a ticket to reach office, a colleague, who can do his job, a friend, with whom some information can be shared, a researcher who try to study things in-depth, an executive who interact with clients regularly and try to put some value in the business process, a junior, who try to follow senior’s instructions, a judge, before putting the instructions and a dreamer who try to put something new in front of the management.

And a Govt.

In my childhood, I participated in debates against brain-drain, but later-on realized watching so many unsuccessful businessmen in West Bengal that every state is not open like Gujarat or it may take longer time to be a place to run business or grow industry. Like a calm ocean, no waves, no outer current and everyone on a ship, they have no hurry to cross the ocean, and the sailor is sleeping.

I am not happy, but satisfied just by calling and considering my days as ‘The Struggling Period’, where I am struggling to learn some more, to earn some more money, respect and more happiness around me. I am convinced that this time, forget about your emotions and family. Here I wish you find your life different from me.

My Dad, Mom and Me……. a part of the maximum population of India, keeping same desire in mind and same problems in life.  



8 responses to “Indian Middle Class Life and Stories.

  1. idanurag January 12, 2013 at 9:52 p01

    Nicely written


  2. pinakipratihar January 12, 2013 at 9:52 p01

    Thanks idanurag


  3. vivek srivastava January 13, 2013 at 9:52 p01

    very emotional and touching… can’t stop myself…


    • pinakipratihar January 13, 2013 at 9:52 p01

      Vivek, You can find so many life-stories similar to this one


  4. sridhar rao January 17, 2013 at 9:52 p01

    middle class story remains same, things change when modi becomes PM and end corruption


    • pinakipratihar January 17, 2013 at 9:52 p01

      You just said my words. Sridhar I would prefer a Modi-minded person in each state.


  5. Haider Ali January 17, 2013 at 9:52 p01

    your word pulled me back to my parents and memories. Thanks.


  6. pinakipratihar January 17, 2013 at 9:52 p01

    Haider, you just completed my blog!..


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