Rural Window: Bell Bajao to the rescue
Last week I was on my way to Bombay to participate in a global conference on Violence against women. And for the session I was conducting, I decided to take with me Bell Bajao material – check that – TONS of Bell Bajao material to distribute to the co-participants and attendees.
So I put together six humongous cartons with everything ranging from brochures to pamphlets, from t-shirts to badges. And on the day of my journey, I left for the airport early enough – knowing full well that all these cartons will need time to be checked in.
And boy was I right in doing so! The six cartons were the talk of the airport – with everyone beginning from the simple porter to flight attendants looking at it (and me) suspiciously. Growing more indignant with each step, by the time I reached the check-in counter I couldn’t care less about the stares I got from everyone else in the queue.
At the counter, apart from coughing up a fortune for all those cartons – it was surprisingly ok. (And I have a sneaky suspicion the lady at the counter sensed my irritation and dealt with me double quick. Just to get me out of her way.) So, once I had my tickets in hand and had gotten rid of the cartons, I was in a much better mood. I boarded the flight – and might I add with a skip in my step – full of anticipation of what the conference would be like. And for the duration of my flight, I looked over my notes and readied myself for my days ahead in Bombay.
At the Bombay airport, life was a little more kind to me. I skillfully dodged all the stares yet again at the baggage reclaim counter and was quickly on my way towards the exit.
And incase you were heaving sighs of relief because my bitter rant was over, well it isn’t. Seeing my mountain of cartons, ofcourse Mr. Guard stopped me and asked me what they were. Just then, familiar screams greeted my ears. Some TV screen close by was playing the “Got Milk?” Bell Bajao TV spot… so I excitedly pointed up at that and said “Bell Bajao??” and pointing next at the cartons repeated triumphantly “Bell Bajao!” No sooner had I said that, than the guard beamed into a smile as bright as the day outside and said “Oh! Bell Bajao!! Please carry on!!” and scuttled people out of my way for the trolleys to pass through.
I know our Bell Bajao message has reached millions across the country and brought many moments of violence to a grinding halt. But that day, the Bell Bajao message did something we never imagined it could.
It accorded me an identity. A badge of honour.
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