The Common Person

They travel and work on a daily basis, making the economy of India what it is. Even if they mobilize one million strong to take on an issue, they are a minority for the country has a population of a billion. The common man or aam aadmi of India is truly a wonder. First visualized as a group by the great cartoonist R.K Laxman who in his sardonic cartoons illustrated a obedient peon who would be a bystander witnessing everyday happenings in the country but unable to do anything. With this cartoon Mr Laxman was able to both show the country and quantify the feelings of ambivalence and hope for the citizen.


For me the common man is a hard worker who may not be economically stable but struggles with honesty with a glow in the eyes. The smile that suddenly comes up on the face for reasons that one may not understand. The change in their activity that they are engrossed in to have a conversation, they do not plead for anything but acknowledge you. At the end they get so happy and content with a chat and a handshake.

I have always found myself more in tandem with the common man on the street ranging from auto drivers, vendors, bus conductors, restaurant workers, hotel staff and others than the upper elite. I admit I have lived abroad for many years but my upbringing in a developing country and economic standing have always kept me close and connected to the voice of the populace. While I am able to talk to both the elite and the common person there is something inherently courageous about the struggle a person makes to improve their economic standing. My clothes and speaking styles gets me accepted in as another commoner without any apprehensions.

There are too many stories of their mistreatment in the hands of their bosses and superiors. While living in Bangalore I remember a case of this. There was a restaurant near our home that we visited sometimes. Upon entering there was the manager who never moved from his chair and position and would whimsically order his staff. Once day I walked and saw the manager sitting idly looking at his phone. In Hindi I remarked, “uncle you seen quite busy”. He looked at me and back at the phone. As I sat down, the look on the faces of the staff was priceless as they struggled to control their laughter for they too knew the way of the elite who just sat. They all walked near me and smiled as my comment had provided them with both joy and a topic of conversation.

The most emotional account of the common person is my journey to work in Bangalore every morning that took me on a sidewalk with a wall that separated a school compound from the road. On the side of the wall was an old woman who would sit and sell small bags of popcorn everyday. Her eyes withered and skin both fragile and wrinkled could tell stories of the hard life she has had.

I stopped one day and started talking to her though she did not understand or speak but just smiled. Taking a picture of her I showed her the screen with zoom so her eyes could make out all the rich details. Her eyes filled with tears as she pointed to herself on the small screen of my camera. My eyes also filled up as I looked at her in this moment of happiness that we both shared. I would go away and she would stay here but I knew I had work to do and make a difference. Till today, I have not forgotten that expression of gratitude in her eyes. In a society where the poor are at times treated like dirt, she had perhaps found in me somebody who reminded her that she was also born a human being. With my prayers for her and all…