As i begin to write from a second cyber cafe, the first which i visited in K Sarai was not enterprising by any standards. In the basement the cafe had not enough lighting to persuade you to stay for some time. I tried my best to persuade the boy to hand me the desk that had enough lights. The boy suggested that the terminals right across were duly occupied by people who had ventured out for a while. The one where i was seated was a tad different, dismissive from the word go. There was one boy sitting on the right side holding a piece of paper. His work conduct suggested that he had to oscillate between looking at the paper which had some typed message and spread glance on who was sitting next to him. The boy appeared to be fishy and no less fishy was the guy sitting on the left. The moment i began to work, the first though that crossed the guy sitting on the left was to take a broad view of what all i was typing and whom all i was tearing. For a while the guy stood just behind and kept looking at my terminal. Having realised that i had noticed him staring he decided the best bet was to sit back on a terminal behind me separated by a cubicle. Strange were the conduct of the guys on the left and right and the one with a sheet of paper believed his mind was all into what he was holding. The way they were discussing about job potential and the plateaued platform they had reached gave a fair idea that none was into any job, it was all bunkum and given the large scale unemployment and a large scale of fraudism it was best to rotate your views on a job on which the person concerned has no views. One said: " Mein toh teen saal se ek naukri mein raha. Kuch job prospect nahin." The other said: "Teen saal mein koi tarakki nahin hui hain." In between they would make effort to look at my terminal and look at what all i was keying in. From the conversation one could make out that none were into any job. Even if they were it was probably a past blast.
The boy who was making due entry at the register section seem to be a fair one. His failure to hand me the terminal i desired may have been logical but the guys sitting on the left and right were by no means therapeutic. Never fault the boy who makes entry to the register in a cyber cafe; it is other visitors who visit the terminal who make it a difficult proposition. If this was not enough by now the thumping of the floor above us had started and the mosquitoes and their gathering had begun to give a tough time. This cyber cafe i visited after one year and here tv boxes serve as terminals. It is the limited budget that could have goaded them to convert tv boxes as desktops. Still my best wishes to this basement cyber cafe in katwari sarai as the owner is a gentle soul and the boy who makes the entry in register is equally simple. It is the set of visitors with their set of whims and fancies that take the peace from a cyber cafe. From here i moved to another cafe in the basement which is comparatively peaceful and works with no hidden agenda. As long as snooping and tapping would continue one would be faced with these hard realities.
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