The story I am about to narrate is an actual incident.
Bangalore City’s hustle and bustle are palpable in its traffic. The notorious nature of the traffic means people spend more hours on Bangalore’s roads than they expect. While stuck in traffic, people can be seen working on their laptops at the office. It’s a precarious state.
The traffic is a problem. The city is becoming notorious for the Kannada hooligans. They demand that every outsider converse with them in Kannada. Many small-scale business houses have been targeted for failing to meet the unrealistic demands of local Kannada hooligans. Cab drivers, auto-rickshaw drivers, and bus conductors have been causing trouble for North Indians. They have also been troubling Hindi-speaking people for quite some time now.
For critical work, I went to Bangalore. While traveling from Silk Board to Marathahalli, I experienced humiliation that I had not expected. Although I had cash, it was short by two rupees. I spoke in both Hindi and English, and the conductor replied in Kannada. I didn’t understand a single word he said. But with an animated argument, I understood his tone and hand gestures. He was asking me to get off at the next stop. That person was adamant and wouldn’t accept an online payment for a mere 2-rupee change. This incident created a scene on the bus, and I was getting ready to get off at the next stop.
Just before the next stop, a person handed me a 2-rupee coin. They were either a student or a newly hired corporate employee in their early 20s. They wanted me to give it to the conductor. He also reprimanded the conductor in Kannada on my behalf. I thanked the person and was grateful for his simple, helpful act.
The point is that one can’t judge a group solely by the behavior of a few individuals. The Kannada brigade tarnishes the entire group’s reputation, but good people strive to uphold humanity’s values despite language barriers.
The Witty Stride 