PoV of common people-1

(Kolkata Guild-Main)

In the heart of Kolkata, the main office of the Kolkata guild was situated.

It was a group of 4 storey buildings connected to each other, having all kinds of people.

It was established three years ago, and since then, the unemployed, painters, labourers, maids, vegetable sellers, Dabbawallahs, etc. all were registered in it.

Whenever someone wants to have a job done, like having a maid, painting their house, hiring a builder for their house, they all come here.

This has made it easier for Kishore, who doesn't have any sort of skill, find an odd job every now and then. He doesn't have to beg anymore, and he can atleast eat one time a day now.

Moreover, at night when the guild is closed, homeless people like him are allowed to sleep inside from 12 pm to 4 am.

Right now, he, along with many people in the guild, were watching TB that was installed just two days ago.

It was his first time seeing something like that.

Today was Diwali, so they were showing Ramleela.

"Hey! What's that!?"

Kishore, and all the people who were watching with their mouths hanging, suddenly saw Ani, and they obviously didn't know what it was.

The receptionist, who has more knowledge about what is going around in Kolkata, puffed her chest with pride.

"It is Ani, made by Kolkata Ani Studio. My son is a background artist in it!"

"Ani? What's that?"

"It is, like, umm, moving paintings very fast! That's what he told me... Anyway, they use it because fighting in real life wouldn't be as good, will it?

If anyone has a talent in drawing, we will be holding a competition in two days on next monday. If they select you, you will be able to get a stable job there."

"Really!? We will try!"

Everyone decided to give it a try. Just like this, many opportunities have been arriving frequently. Mostly from cloth making companies. Sadly, he hasn't been able to get a job there until now because there are just so many people that want a job.

Moreover, since he doesn't have one arm and is partially blind, he doesn't really qualify when there are so many able people.

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(Ayodhya)

(Ramleela Market)

Outside the Ramleela theater, a big street food market was set-up.

Firdaus Ansari, who has been selling samosa-jalebi for 15 years, was having his biggest sales in his life.

Though, one woman was disturbing business by shoving a camera in his stall.

But seeing that he was in front of camera, he didn't tell her to go away. Moreover, the camera guy looked like a foreigner.

"Which newspaper are you from?"

"Namaste, I am from Ohio Times."

"Eh? Which newspaper is that?"

"It is in America."

"Where is this? Bihar?"

"No. It is another country. Like India is our country, America is another country."

"Oh. Accha. Accha. But you seem to be from here."

"Yeah. Actually, this guy is from that newspaper. But he doesn't know Hindi or anything, and they didn't send translators. So I am helping him out."

Firdaus looked at the cameraman as if he is an idiot, and focused on the camera. If the photo is going to be printed in a foreign newspaper, maybe a foreigner will come here to marry him?

"Can I ask you some questions then?"

"Yes."

"What's your name?"

"Firdaus Ansari."

"Oh, you are Mosair? Why?"

"Those guys helped my mother get away from my father, and even taught me to count and how to make Samosa jalebi. It is a good religion."

"But didn't they destroy Babri Masjid? Aren't you angry with them?"

"Does that masjid give me anything? Because of Ram, this backward city is getting attention. Because so many foreigners were coming today, they arrested all the criminals and set up this market.

Babri isn't anything important to me. And isn't Ram Mandir is as much important to the Hindus as Kabba is for us? If someone destroyed the Kabba and built a temple on it, I also wouldn't like it."

"Okay... So, how has been your life after Independence?"

"Hmm, it's improving. They are building Airport and guild, so many labourers come at one place. I was selling samosa-jalebi there before. But I heard about the market here, and got here before anyone else. And I can sell at three times the price today. I convinced every vendor to sell at three times for today. And since only those who have more money will come into this theater, I am thinking that we can continue selling at this price even after tomorrow."

"Oh. Did you vote for BJS?"

"Yes. Everyone voted for BJS here, around 88%. They want to develop Ayodhya, and it would be nice if Ayodhya was as good as Calcutta and Bombai."

"Then why not Congress or RJS?"

"Congrees didn't seem to be in favour of Ram Mandir. And Ram Mandir will make me rich. I only care about bringing food on my table.

And RJS seemed to be a bit Anti-Muslim to me. Atleast BJS is supporting our Mosair movement, even though they don't openly say it. Heck, they were the ones who started it.

So my vote will only go to BJS even in the future."

After the Ramleepa was over, and guests went back their homes and every stall owner went to sleep in the tents that were made for them, the woman who interviewed him woke him up.

"Want to make some good money?"

He became suspicious of the woman. Who sneaks into a man's tent at night? Even though he probably wouldn't be able to defeat a 10 year kid with his malnourished body.

"No. I don't know anything besides samosa-jalebi anyway."

"I am starting a company-"

"What is a company?"

"...Will you let me talk?"

He sat down from the ground, and decided to atleast hear her. If she sfreamed or something, he would be beaten to death by all the men here, or police will arrest him before that.

Those who taught him to make Samosa-Jalebi also told him to be cautious around women, more so if they are beautiful.

"When Ram Mandir starts its construction, the tourists will start flooding in. The government wants to open a mall nearby, and I want to start a Samosa-Jalebi business. But we will not only sell in Ayodhya, but whole India, and the world."

"I can't make that much. I just have two hands."

"I don't want you to! Listen to me, your hands have magic. You sell the best samosas and jalebis.

I am taking care of many orphans that lost their parents due to the riots here. I have connection to some people taking care of orphans in Bengal as well.

I want you to teach those kids, who will be employed by our company-"

"Our?"

"Yes. It will be everyone's company. The name will be 'Samosa-Jalebi'. Do you want to make more money or not? We will be able to buy our own house, and even be able to go in the theaters like that. Though if you don't want to, I can just ask someone else."

Firdaus contemplated about the offer. First of all, he didn't even know this woman's name. Who knows, maybe she is from one of those jihadi group he has heard about who kill the Misair Muslims? He is known fairly well among these vendors. So she might be trying to lure him away and then kill him.

"What's your name?"

"Firdaus Ansari."

"You too!?"

"Shh! Don't scream. You will wake the others. And yes, my name is Firdaus Ansari too."

Firdaus, the samosa-jalebi vendor, took out a coin from his gamcha, and tossed it.

"Alright. I will work with you."

He decided to just see what happens.

"Alright, let's meet here this Sunday. I will take you to the Mayor, and he will help us to start the company."

"Mayor?"

"Oh, did I forget to tell? I work for BJS. Here is my ID."

"You should have told me this sooner! Let's do it then."

"Thank you for agreeing."

And the woman with the same name as him left his tent, though some vendors were looking at his tent. She ran away from their gazes, and everyone looked at him.

"Bhabhi ji got shy, eh?"

"No! I just got to know her today!"

"Damn! You are even faster than a rabbit-"

"SHUT UP! IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!"

"Yeah yeah. Just don't forget to invite us to the wedding. We want to eat chicken. And paneer for vegetarians."

Firdaus just went to sleep, ignoring everyone's laughter.