Dance (Kathak and other folk forms), music (thumri, khayal, dadra, ghazals, qawwalis), literature (Hindi sahitya and Urdu adab), fine cuisine (shami kabab, gilawati kabab, Kakori kabab, ultey-tawey-ka-paratha, roomali-roti, dum-ki-biryani, Sharma-ki-chai, Bajpai ki poodi, Shukla-ki-chaat), regal buildings (Imam Bara, Vidhan Sabha, Rumi darwaza, Charbagh railway station), sprawling parks (Hazratmahal, Lohiya, Janeshwar Mishra), polite mannerisms and soft tones. This is how the city is portrayed to the gullible outsiders.
Muskuraiye, aap Lucknow mey hain.
(Smile, you are in Lucknow).
Uttar Pradesh shashan, Uttar Pradesh sarkar, Ucchh Nyalayay, Vidhayak, Panchayat Adhyaksha, Jila Nyalayay, Justice, Nyayadhish, Adhivakta, Panchayat Adhyaksh, Nagar Nigam Adhyaksh, Zila Adhyaksh / Sachiv, Koshadhyaksh (of some political party), Maha-sachiv (of some religious outfit), Vidhan Sabha, Vidhan Parishad. These are the designations prominently displayed either on the registration plates or on the windscreens of four-wheelers plying in Lucknow. Not very often, but this includes two-wheelers also. Ever wondered as to what these displays aim to convey. Make public the ownership of vehicles? Certainly not. The idea is to underline that they wield power. The idea is to declare that the traffic rules don’t apply to them. The idea is to intimidate common citizenry who may have issues with their traffic waywardness. Let’s call them the entitled-wayward.
One can find these entitled-wayward exiting from entry-points and entering from exit-points on fast-moving Shaheed Path. The masculine acts of over-speeding, cutting lanes and jumping traffic signals are common sights in almost all Lucknow roads. Getting out of Charbagh railway station is as impossible as, I guess, trying to escape Guantanamo Bay. Contrary to the public belief, the road adjacent to Darul-Shifa is not for the plying vehicles but for parking of the vehicles owned by the legislators and their side-kicks as two-third of the road is used there for. The G-20 road is abruptly closed for the lesser-mortals by UP Police or PAC or SSB as their pot-bellied officers decide to organize a run lest they are written off as Mr. Hardy of the forces.
Here are two experiences worth writing about.
Shaheed Path is two and a half lanes each side at places. The half lane is probably to facilitate movement of slower-moving vehicles on an otherwise fast-moving traffic. One evening I found the traffic crawling near Ekana stadium. Whilst driving past the bottleneck, I found that a white Toyota-Fortuner had stopped on the left and the owner (he was wearing white kurta-pyjama and white sneakers which made him the owner, I am confident) was happily peeing, contemptuous of the traffic chaos he had caused. I wasn’t surprised as the windscreen of his vehicle loudly announced that he was an entitled-wayward i.e., a Vidhayak (a member of the Legislative Assembly). I could see the exasperation writ large on every driver’s face one of whom peeped through window and announced to the world “moot raha hai, saala” (the bugger is peeing). Welcome to Lucknow, the city of etiquettes.
The other experience was in Gole Market in Maha Nagar. A very elderly person was reversing his car, struggling to exit the congested parking area around the Ritz restaurant. There was this young, entitled lady whose car was right behind the elderly’s. She kept honking at him, making him more nervous which made him take longer to exit. As my car was behind the lady’s, I got out and walked up to tell her to have patience. Expectedly, she gave me a huge, dirty look which I chose to ignore. After the elderly person had successfully manoeuvred his exit, she whizzed past his car and showed him (or was it me) her middle-finger. The incident reinforced my belief that traffic waywardness in Lucknow is every bit gender-neutral.
An exaggeration it may be, majority of two-wheeler riders in Lucknow want to destine helmets to the dustbin of history like the memories of agonizing, painful partition of our country in 1947. To expect pillion-riders to wear helmets is a serious affront, carrying the potential of causing riots. Tripple-riding is a fundamental right, drawn straight from the wayward’ personal version of the Constitution of India. Turning on indicators is passe’ like the bell-bottoms of late seventies. Driving straight-faced into a contra-traffic is no great shakes. Violating one-way traffic signs pumps up the adrenalin of the soldiers of waywardness as they prepare to tackle the next set of skirmishes (read motor vehicles).
Whilst all this happens, the cops in Lucknow conduct themselves like shy, newly-wed bahus who cannot muster up enough courage to speak against her saas whatever the prompt may be. No wonder why these entitled-wayward go un-retributed.
As a returning Lucknowite, who was away for thirty-four years, I was at loss, initially, as to how to negotiate the ways of the city. It dawned on me, later, that the salt-n-pepper beard and moustache I sport need to be leveraged if I want to survive the indiscipline in the city. Now, every time I find myself in a difficult situation, I too twirl my moustache northwards to earn some rustic respect from these entitled-wayward. Trust me, it works.
Tahzeeb dikhayi to Tashreef phategi.
(They will take your arse if you show them etiquettes).