Garbage Collection Vans –The Destroyers of Morning Calm (An Open Letter)

Dear Town Municipal Corporation,

There is no need for your garbage wagons to begin hollering from six am, and shatter the early morning urban peace and calm.

The aim of your cleanliness brigade should not be to disturb the sleeps of toddlers and housewives. In the name of keeping the city clean, they should not be assuming the powers of moral police. Such sadism belongs to the deserts of Arabia, and looks out of place in a modern, democratic country. Ujjain, being Shiva’s abode, must especially be kept free of noise and other kinds of pollution.

How have we reached a stage where the hint of rising sun now brings with it the dread of the arrival of your honking wagons?

It would be enough for your Collector Vans to use a simple honk to announce their presence. Even the song they play is bereft of melody and has boastful, self-congratulatory lyrics. For the life of me I do not understand why do we to celebrate the simple fact of our domicile in Madhya Pradesh, or the state of its cleanliness. Further, the song goes on to wish that Ujjain becomes number one in god-knows-what category.

Imagine the poverty of minds that coined these lines-

“Mera Madhya Pradesh, Swachchta ka hai Pradesh……”

“Number One hai Number one Ujjain…..”

This trash would sound alright in public speeches, but scalds your soul as song lyrics.

In Rajasthan, they play –

“Gadi wala aaya, chal kachra nikal….”

An exhortation still makes sense. At least, it is melodious and can be hummed. It does shock you out of your reverie, but pats you back into sleep.

I am told that in China, the garbage collection vans play ‘Fur Elise’ and other Beethovan, Mozart and Chopin pieces towards enhancing the serenity of dawn.

If you could only show as much zeal in cleaning the lanes and streets of this great town as you do in spoiling the serenity of the dawn and giving aesthetic pain, we, the humble residents of the state of Madhya Pradesh shall be better served.

Thank you for taking out the time to read this letter, and not confining it to the ever-growing mountains of garbage.

From,

The Dweller of Siva’s abode,

One who is not even fit to lift the lanterns in his Baraat.


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