Just over two weeks ago, I was walking down Hill Road in Bandra and saw the bhel walah I often go to. I gave into temptation and asked him for a plate of pani puri. It had been over two months since I was in the city and it was delicious to indulge in my favourite street food again. Three puris in, I noticed a small 12x12inch solar panel board resting on his cart. Intrigued, I asked him about it and he said, "Haan, yahan kaafi dhoop milti hai."
I took a picture of his proud panel and tweeted it.
Moments later, my phone beeped, notifying me about a couple of retweets. I was glad more people were sharing this. What I didn't expect was just how much people would respond to this one man's thoughtfulness. A handful of retweets catapulted into a whole brigade of them and I constantly had notifications and responses to that one particular tweet all day long. Some people even posted it on other social media where they got several responses as well. I was amazed by how many people this man had impressed with one simple device.
I took a picture of his proud panel and tweeted it.
Moments later, my phone beeped, notifying me about a couple of retweets. I was glad more people were sharing this. What I didn't expect was just how much people would respond to this one man's thoughtfulness. A handful of retweets catapulted into a whole brigade of them and I constantly had notifications and responses to that one particular tweet all day long. Some people even posted it on other social media where they got several responses as well. I was amazed by how many people this man had impressed with one simple device.
When people began asking me questions about the bhel walah and his choices, I decided to go back and talk to him once more. I also wanted him to know about the little ripple he had created among those who cared. So, yesterday, I walked up to his little cart on Hill Road and had a chat with him over only-slightly-spicy pani puri.
Rakesh Gupta is from Uttar Pradesh. His family has a farm back home that derives almost all its energy from solar panels. The ones back home, he says, are huge in comparison to the little plate he carries on his cart. They use that energy for heating and lighting and for running their phones and TV. The one on his cart helps him charge his phone battery on the go and gives him the power he needs for lighting. He says that it's relatively easier to set up these panels in a village or farm where there are vast expanses of land. He feels that most people don't install panels on buildings and other places in the city due to fear of branches and other heavy objects falling on the glass chips and breaking them. Pointing at the roof of St. Stanislaus High School, he said that the school has done good by installing solar panels somewhere inside. A newspaper reporter discovered his solar panels one day and came by to take a photo of him with them. He joked about how he was made to pose and with the panels, after agreeing to connect the cart's bulb to them.
What strikes me most about Rakesh is that he is a very, very cool cucumber. He knows he's saving money with those panels, he knows people are interested and he knows that we would all do a lot better if we followed suit. Yet, he quietly goes about his day, cracking into delicate puris and charging his phone with sunlight. When I look back, I don't think I've ever seen him looking anxious or stressed out, even when he's running three orders behind with several people standing around him impatiently. He talks to everyone warmly and doesn't hesitate to reply no matter what you ask him about. That man always seems happy.
If you live around Bandra, I would suggest paying him a visit. Even if it's just for a plate of bhel. His is, after all, one of the few places left in the area that still charges 20 rupees a dish.
