Something unusual happened that day. I had just received a mail about someone’s ‘Dissatisfaction regarding quantity, quality & increased food price.’ It instantly reminded me of the quote, ‘For too long, you and I have been quiet.’ I was happy that someone has gathered the courage to speak about it. Sending an email to the entire center is indeed a courageous task. You have to check and recheck the mail for spelling and grammatical mistakes. Out of habit, I refreshed the mailbox and saw a few more emails received on the same subject. I instantly ran towards pantry to brew a cup of coffee to sip while reading all the Email. Who would have imagined that reading emails could be such fun?
I always wanted to be a part of some revolution and this seemed to be the moment for me. By now unread email tally had crossed the count of 50 and everyone was vehemently expressing their distress. There were one-liners and then there were essay type emails. The MBA aspirants joined the lot and infused a heavy dose of vocabulary into the Email to make the issue authentic. It was as if everyone was waiting since ages for that one Email to begin a revolt. This was no less than a ‘Jan-Bhogpal Movement’ to me. In the middle, someone shifted the focus of issue to salary hike compared to food price hike whereas someone raised the issue of ‘city allowance’ needed to be increased along with food prices. People from varied projects joined the protest. I clicked on the ‘new mail’ tab to do my bit for the revolution. By now my coffee was also about to get finished. I wanted to write about the coffee but lethargy usurped my willingness to revolt. I chose to close the ‘new mail’ tab and started reading other emails.
People had addressed their emails to random ids, and copied their friends in it. No one was now bothered about the purpose of revolution. The sanctimonious Email had become just another medium for people to vent out. All were engrossed in saying what they wanted to say being inconsiderate of whether they were saying it to the right person. However, I was happy that after all this clamor the issue will reach to the concerned authority for sure.
Someone proposed not eat canteen food as a ‘Hunger Strike’ variant. By now, ‘I support this initiative’ was featured in every mail I was receiving. The mere thought of hunger strike in office was exciting. We have all seen it in Hindi movies. Being in IT industry, I never imagined that I would get to be a part of something of this sort. I was sure, the canteen committee members from our teams whom we were missing dearly would lead from the front during this strike.
It was 6 PM. I had consumed my coffee by now and the incoming mail frequency had reduced. Most of the emails now appeared repetitive. I heard that the administration had called a meeting at a grand hall to pacify the aggrieved lot. I am unsure of what happened in the meeting, as not much was talked about the same, neither on mail nor in person by any of my friends. I am sure; the administration provided another platform to make them feel that their voice was being heard. After all, this is what majority of the citizens of our nation get satisfied with.
By 7 PM, all the excitement seemed to have settled down as people were now planning to leave early to grab a seat on the bus. I thought of all the movements our nation has witnessed during past few years. Movements which appear promising in the beginning but fail because of our negligence or lack of patience to pursue it in the longer run. Movements that failed because we got pacified by hollow promises. Like the fate of most of the revolutions, this also was buried in trash folder of our mailbox.