It is a typical sweaty and dusty day in north Delhi’s mucky Azadpur Mandi , a wholesale market for fresh produce. Transactions of millions of rupees are made here everyday amidst the crowd, grime and noise. This is the nucleus of India’s fresh produce market. Once the deals are struck, trucks are loaded with riches in the form of vegetables and fruits and set out to disperse their goods throughout the country.
Lost in the crowd of traders here, is Mayank, an apple trader in his early 30s. He seems very much a part of the place until he walks out of the filth and steps into his shining Toyota Corolla in the parking lot. In India, Corolla has been a high-end car, driven by many a CEO. His gleaming marble home is a 15-minute-drive away. Once cleaned up, Mayank spends time with his wife, two daughters and his parents, until setting off to the neighborhood park where he teaches yoga.
In a country where the majority of the population works like slaves, Mayank appears to be living a dream lifestyle. He begins work at dawn, is done by around noon, and gets three months of vacation a year, not to mention the millions he rakes in. He has the luxury of health and a wonderful work-life balance.
Mayank was forced to join the family business, while in college. Meanwhile, his school and neighborhood friends went to reputable institutes at home and abroad for higher studies. Today, they work at reputed multinationals. Several either live or have done stints abroad. Few societies are as bitterly obsessed with stigma, status and other pettiness as India is. Mayank feels left out. He may be wealthier but they are more hip, can discuss wines, Korean food and indulge in elitist conversations thanks to their trips abroad.
“It was never competition, but one can’t help it. Today’s India seems to be all about shallow showing off and materialism, rather than about the true relationships and friendships it was once known for,” says Mayank.
Yet, it is Mayank they often turn to when it comes to practical matters. Recently, Mayank’s friend Deepak lost his father. Mayank was there instantly to help the family shoulder the loss. He called on common friends to help out with funeral-related arrangements, but they cut his calls off or picked up only to say, “I’m in a meeting. Later!” before hearing him out. “‘I cannot make an appointment with you, for an emergency, can I?’ But I don’t blame them. The entire country has gotten so lost in their rat races, that they’re forgetting the more important, Indian things in life, like family and friends coming first. They have lost touch with reality, with the sweat and blood of daily living,” he says. In two hours, Mayank managed to arrange caterers, priests and other logistics. None of Deepak’s relatives helped. They did however show up, expressed condolences and left hurriedly to catch up with their packed work lives.
“Today’s young Indians work like machines. In fact, they have become machines. They have no feelings. Everything is a facade in today’s India,” Mayank laments. Five years back, Mayank used to urge his best friend, settled in Silicon Valley, to return home to Delhi, because he missed him. Now Mayank advises him to stay put there, instead of returning to the country he loves so much but can no longer recognize.