Bandh Day

Forgive me, readers, for the long delay between posts. I have been remiss. Life in India continues at its usual frenetic pace. Let me give you an example. Monday afternoon at 3pm I was sitting in my office at the university when I received a call from my breathless wife: "Are you okay?" And then: "You have to get out of there!" Turns out the separatist protests had started up again. I assured her I was fine and promised to catch the next train home. I took a tuk-tuk (autorickshaw) to the station.

At the station I made my usual ticket order ("First class to Hi-Tec City, please.") but the attendant waved me off. "No trains until 1800. Troubles with protest." Now this could have meant anything from egg-throwing to a bomb threat. But whatever the reason, I was going nowhere by train. So I hailed another tuk-tuk and asked the driver if he would take me to Hi-Tec City, about twenty-five congested kilometers away. The guy laughed in my face and drove off.

I asked the next guy if he would take me halfway. He also refused. Finally I got a rickshaw driver to agree to take me to the Secunderabad Railway Station--a distance of about 3km. I figured I could string together a bunch of rickshaw rides, while simultaneously trying to get in touch with our driver.

And that's pretty much what happened. The driver met me at a hotel and I upgraded my wheels. When I got home I texted Jessica to say I was back. She asked if I had been scared. "No, just annoyed," I said.

Turns out I should have been scared. Just down the street from my office, students had stopped a commuter rail train (ie, the one I should have taken home) and torched it. This photo ran on the front page of today's paper:

The protesters (the papers call them students, but I have my doubts about whether they actually study anything) apparently used the commuter rail lines to move themselves all over the city, raising hell at two other stations. In one instance they broke into the ticket office and destroyed the agents' chairs and computers. You have to wonder what Gandhi would think of their techniques. Nonviolent protest is known in India as "Gandhigiri," and there's a popular joke that substitutes the Hindi word "goonda" (meaning thug) for "Gandhi," as in "Was it a peaceful protest?" "Oh yeah, it was strict Goondagiri." A few weeks ago the Telangana student organization swore themselves to "Gandhigiri." So much for that.

The upshot is that school was cancelled today for students big and small. Our cook, Saraswati, showed up this morning at nine with the most delightful little person, her seven-year-old daughter, Vashna. Violet and Vashna hit it off and played all day. They capped their "bandh day" (which Jessica likened to a snow day) by wearing some of Violet's scarves as saris.

Tomorrow is the second day of the bandh. All schools and government offices will be closed. The trains are still not running. We'll see if the parliament pays attention this time.