Dear Middle Class,
I am sure you will be surprised to read this headline. This is not a very fashionable cause to speak up for. I am sure you are doubly surprised this coming from me, who very frequently ridicules you as EMIs(Educated Middle Class Indian or one who who is defined by how much mortgage payments per month i.e. EMI he has to pay), who very frequently chastises you for your annual “no tax breaks for middle class” rants. Let the truth be told.The immediate trigger was this uncalled for attack by Tavleen Singh on you
Fact that person who Tavleen Singh was taking potshots at is mother of a soldier who made supreme sacrifice for this nation is a different matter all together, but using a person’s membership of middle class as a tool to question legitimacy of her concern has become a fashion now.
Dear Middle class, you have no friends. The Right Wing expects you to be sacrificing in the name of national interest all the time. The Left Wing expects you to keep flagellating yourself for all the poverty, misery and systemic failures all the time. While the rich take advantage of situation by virtue of their power, the poor are sided with by politicians , the chattering class, the media for their weakness, you are the target of everyone’s disdain, greed and ridicule just because you believe in putting your head down , doing your job and making sure that you don’t hurt anyone’s feelings.
All throughout the current pandemic I have seen comment after comment. column after column showing their deep concern for the poor, the have nots. Everyone has been preaching to you how you should “sacrifice” because you are “better off”. You have been treated as if this pandemic has been a walk in the park for middle class while the rich and the poor suffered in misery.
The fact is you are the backbone of this society. It is you who has been at the forefront of fighting the pandemic. It is you as a policeman who has been trying to enforce lockdown , in return sometimes getting abuses from common people or sometimes getting kicked , beaten up by politicians, all while yourself getting infected by Corona.
It is you as a doctor, nurse and ward boy who are treating the Corona patients with no assurance of your own safety. It is you who had to endure people spitting at you because you were simply doing your job of treating them and teaching them how not to infect others.
It is you who as a banker has not had a day’s break, day in and day out exposing yourself to hundreds of potential spreaders and super spreaders. It is you who as a teacher who probably never used a laptop or never has been on a video call is tasked with teaching 30, 40 , 50 or even more 10 or 12 year olds without complaining. You as teachers are expected to innovate your delivery without any proper training in doing so.
It is you who a software engineer as work from home professional is now working 12 or 14 hours a day because now you are supposed to be available all the time. It is you irrespective of your gender but even more so if you are a woman has to battle on all fronts work at office, chores at home, home tutor for kids.
While doing all this you have to pay your income taxes, pay your maid, your security guards even if they are unable to come to work because you don’t want them to suffer. You have to pay higher fuel prices because you need to make sure that government has money to feed the hungry.
The grudge is probably not that you have to do all this because you have a conscience, you are generally patriotic and you are that part of society which does care for others. The grudge is when inspite of doing all this people dump on you at every possible opportunity, people want you to feel guilty if a farmer commits suicide or if a migrant labor loses his job.
The Prime Minister for a change atleast had one line of thank you for you, last time he spoke. My write up may not mean much but gratitude is one of the finest middle class qualities and I as a member of this class could not help but express this gratitude.
Thank you o Common Man err Common Person
Unwashed Indian's Diary 