It’s OK

The blame for this profusely rotten stink could lie at the doorstep of ill-maintained lavatories and common spaces in the premises. Or they may simply be on account of the ramshackle condition of the utilities in ancient buildings, that are not being abandoned to preserve an erstwhile glorious history. Then again, even new buildings with swanky interiors are not free from this odour. 

It seems,thus, that it cannot be the fault of the buildings but of the people who sit there. Stand there, breathe there, choke there. The body odour of thousands of harried persons who throng these constricted corridors with sweat trickling down their  bent backs in the sweltering sub-tropical heat mingles quite organically with the foul breath emanating from the mouths of the people they are speaking to. 

Up high on the pedestal are seated a few more malodorous specimens, who seem to relish in inhaling the putrid odour around them. Hence,they entertain no requests to improve the ventilation, better manage the crowds, open up the corridors, advocate the use of mints or do anything that may help this obnoxious environment ameliorate. 

On the contrary, they do their best to ensure that the halls remain crammed, people remain tense and the staircases, corridors are not subjected to any architectural intervention that may render them easy on the eyes and bodies of those who populate these narrow, claustrophobic spaces. 

It seems that the men and women who sit on those pedestals, have realised that discomfort breeds deference towards them. They are happy to witness the chaos and even sit in the stench , as long as there is a safe distance between the crowded gallery and their old, yet well cushioned seats. 

The stink, an unsavoury as it may be, constantly reminds them of the power they hold over these people. It is only through this odour that they can measure the extent of their authority. Hence they willingly suffer, nay, relish, sitting in such an environment. 

If one day, they were to enter these big halls, and find that the air is fresh and clean, they would surely lose their mind. The contributors to this fetid airfare perhaps oblivious to the aforesaid. 

Surprising, it surely is. And yet you see them standing in deference watching these men and women entering the halls through doors, out of bounds for the rest, marching through corridors that have been cordoned off permanently, to reserve them for select footfalls , and exiting the premises without having to pass through the rusted iron gates. 

Some of these contributors hope to one day use these special facilities and hence are not eager to call out the injustice of it all. Others do not object to the ignominy, because they have nothing left to live for. At least here, their sweat counts for something. 

It’s ok.