The native language...

It was 9.30 AM and the floor was yet to be full of mostly robotic and emotionless employees.

In one corner, there was a Bengali girl talking over the phone while constantly playing with her hair - "Haan baba! ami shotti bolchhi. Tumi chinta koro na. Mon thik achche". She was oblivious of her surrounding and cared little about the people around her. The warmth of speaking in her own language was palpable on her face.

Suddenly she saw her Manager coming towards her, and told the person on the other end hurriedly - "aami call korchhii. bye!"

The Manager seemed to be a reserved person who had a French cut beard, and his face adorned by golden rimless spectacles which only added to his sophistication. He explained something to the girl, while his phone ringed. He picked up the call.

"Hello! Babua? Ab kaisan tabiyat baa tahar? Aj fer bokhaar ta naa bhayil noo? Hamani ke bahut chintaa lagal rahela", it was the voice of an old man from the other side, probably his father.

"Baad me baat karta hoon", saying this he disconnected the call.

He quickly excused the girl, and looked around. There were few people on the floor gossiping with each other. Few others were busy in their work.

He swiped his access card, and came outside in the gallery. He once again looked around - there was no one nearby. Relieved, he re-dialed the number, and almost screamed - "Kya babu ji, aap bhi naa? Hum thik hain ab. Apko raat me call karte hain araam se. Pranaam!".

Saying this disconnected the call without even waiting for a response. He once again looked around whether anybody heard him talking like this. Even though he had not talked in "Bhojpuri", but he was afraid someone might make a fun about his accent in which he was talking.

He quickly swiped the access card and entered inside. He saw few more people coming inside and wondered whether they have heard him talking like this.

He glanced through his facebook newsfeeds and saw a red hot discussion on Bihar and Biharis. Soon, he was busy commenting there that how few Biharis are ashamed of their native language, and how they are responsible for putting Bihar and Biharis on a negative note. His anger was quite visible on Facebook.

People were in awe with the patriotism of the person for Bihar and Biharis...

Clean India - Reality Bites...

He took a sip from the cup of tea, and lit up the cigarette. The hands soon were constantly running over the smartphone keypad.

"As a responsible citizen of the Great Republic, I XYZ commit that I will not throw any garbage/ waste and will not spit on road, street or any other public place. I will throw them only in the dustbin"

He took a deep breath after writing this and sending it on whatsapp groups and updating the same as his Facebook status. He felt triumphant and determined that he has done something for his country. By the time his cigarette was over. He instantly threw the butt on the road and crushed it by his boots.

Right in front of him, a 13-14 year old teen, probably working in the nearby factory, threw a gutka pouch on road. He was visibly angry on the insensitivity of that person.

"How pathetic! Some people will never improve. Illiterate, uneducated bastards! There is a dustbin right in front of them. Still they will spill everything on streets only", he murmured and left.

The empty dustbin was still at its place, and the Gutka pouch was still lying on the road...