Mr Sarvesh Kaushal & Dr Anita Kaushal
That’s what my politically confused wife said while holding a cup of bed tea precariously close to my snoring nose. I was taken aback as it was she who had over the years encouraged my morning stupor for the tranquility she looked for.
“Jago Sarvesh Jago” she said, “We have stepped into the Jago Era”. I thought for a while that it was another irritating trade-mark concoction of a Shakespearian quote from an English professor. For once, in that context, I suddenly remembered having read that ‘Jago’ is the Cornish, a minority language in England, for the name ‘James’ and as an alternate spelling for ‘Lago’. I was also reminded of Richard Jago, a 17th century English poet.
“Jago Sarvesh Jago” came the nudge again. I was painfully reminded of the scores of wake-up callers hooting like the air-raid warning sirens of the 1960s and 1970s. Jago, Jago, Jago….. The clarion callers have accessed divine wisdom, and are blessed to inflict it upon the blissfully sleeping ignorant.
From the utterly insipid official TV fillers like Jago Grahak Jago, Jago Yatri Jago, Jago Investor Jago etc. of the past, the Jago slogan is all around in full blast with Jago India Jago, Jago Bangla Jago, Jago Mumbai Jago, Jago Punjab Jago and so on.
“Jago Sarvesh Jago”, she raised her voice.
I reluctantly clutched the bed-tea cup while taking pity at her for wasting a slogan meant to be a turning point in the fate of the sleeping humanity. These literature doctors simply don’t understand the potency of a slogan for fuelling politics, just as a virus is needed to spread the epidemic.
“Jago Sarvesh Jago and go for a yatra, which is the usual corollary of awakenings”, she goaded. “But not a yatra of the ‘blessed ones’ sipping cappuccino coffee on an auto-transmission state-of-art SUV. You need to shed lots of weight. Therefore, a foot-march for you, the Gandhian Padyatra”
Gandhiji, I grumbled, has set too high yatra standards for us to follow. An unachievable standard is in itself a de-motivating and self-defeating target. How can one go for a Jago Yatra wearing anything but Khadi, no branded shoes and goggles, no luxury SUVs to ride, no chartered fixed wings and choppers, no helicopters showering rose-petals, no five star meals in star hotels and marriage palaces, no fast food fillers, no cappuccino coffee, no diet coke, and not even mineral water?
I belong to a generation which has been taught to move the goal-posts for scoring its goals. That’s it.
For a while I was reminded of the ‘sarkari’ pilgrimage. Of meetings day in and day out, of holidays or no holidays, of all hours of day or night as our elected masters wish. As the herds attend meetings after meetings, culminating in the periodic sky-high level bash-‘n’-bang review meetings, it gives me a feeling of jogging on a treadmill without having moved an inch ahead.
And, why should I go for a Jago yatra? I am not blessed with divine enlightenment. I have no virus to spread around my State. I have no axe to grind. I have no distance to cover.
I thought for a while on this icy dawn, kept the empty cup at bed-side table, and pulled the quilt up my face for another spell of sleep. No Jago for Sarvesh !
Sarvesh Kaushal 
