Snaps on the move

Change now - Instant Karma or digital democracy?

2011-04-12T02:07:00.000-07:00

As the dust settles from an amazing mobilization for the Jan Lokpal bill by a fasting Anna Hazare that gripped the nation and its Diasporas, sections of civil society media and commentators are attempting to recollect nuances of the campaign, its underpinnings and messaging.

Let a hundred flowers blossom -This phrase defines a basic principle of democracy which often becomes a victim of euphoria and mass hysteria. When we espouse one set of opinions it can overwhelm our senses, so much so that we may choose not to understand the others. As a nation we are no stranger to this and have paid heavy costs in not so distant a past. In this particular case the other side was not of opposition but of engagement in deeper parts with larger picture.

It is more important than ever for the civil society and activists to be clear and watchful of the nature of alliances we make and fellow travelers we walk with for moments of crescendo like the one we witnessed over the weekend.

The television coverage was mirrored by social media and the event played like a broadcast with little space for deeper discussions or analysis. The print media, however, in comparison played a balanced space and has gone into deeper discourses.

The bane of corruption is a reality that most of us with money, to cut-short queues and those with enough to just buy over the processes, have used and detested based on moments of moral convenience. It is also important to make another distinction.

The angst against corruption vented during the course of agitation (or celebration) was not driven by a sense of justice and transparency alone, but was more slanted towards morality and shame. This gave the online avatar of the campaign a heady mix of emotions and made possible political idioms of certain kind more viable.

But before we start digging, it is important to celebrate what happened.

The energy and expanse of the campaign was unprecedented and breaks the barriers of the realm of possibilities of mass protests based in urban middle class. That several hundred million people using social media and decentralized offline actions can join in an issue that was deemed beyond reproach.

This also raises a challenge for the larger civil society and activists, if mobilizations of this magnitude can be created do we have an ability to engage and dialogue with these at a pace and speed that makes it deeper and more engaging.

A petition floated by a US-based online campaign group continues to rake in signatures even after the victory dance. The celebrations on the facebook walls are unending even after the protest has wrapped up from ground zero at Jantar Mantar. This hints at the insatiable appetite the net users have for a campaign that can evoke instant action and clear ask – albeit achievable in immediate future.

The areas of protest, change and language of solidarity have radically changed. Initiated by campaign organisers, the India against Corruption team, Facebook profile badges, missed call campaigns and petitions entered the scene.

For the middle-class in Delhi, the role of participant acquired a larger canvas with many turning into chroniclers. YouTube shows up around 2,000 video results, a lot of which are amateur videos shot by participants.

Some key issues got left out of discussion and focus due to the euphoria generated by the campaign.

The debate on the bill itself for instance – the nuances got sidelined. For instance according to Save Constitution Committee, a Mumbai-based group, the provisions of the Lokpal Bill are against democracy. The group feels the prevailing laws can be effective and if properly implemented, can help curb corruption in the country. As per the Bill, the decision of the Lokpal will be final.

“This is against democracy. Today, we can use the judicial system to challenge a verdict. This will, however, not be available if the Bill is passed as a Lokpal’s decision cannot be questioned,” said Raju Korade, a member of the Save Constitution Committee.

The issue of constitution of drafting committee has also led to a slew of media statements, particularly from Baba Ramdev. He needs no introduction and has for close to a decade now been successful in carrying on with a marriage of faith-yoga-Indian-ism.

We wait for the ‘likes’ to start throwing up critical, mixed and long-lens writing to start appearing on peoples’ walls.

ENDS-

A passion that unites -- ActionAid India Cricket Spot

2011-02-18T07:38:00.000-08:00

Watch Now!

As the nation is gripped by a passion that unites all, the much feted players of the India cricket team and the game of cricket are set to grip the nation like a mass fever. While the 14 nation event with millions riding on the ICC Cricket World Cup, celebrates the mega bucks and the glamour of advertising, the other Team India, ranked by millions of underprivileged children, will continue to silently support and celebrate the game and its heroes like any other day.

Without any of the basic gears, support and audience, this team India rides high on passion and dreams big. For them the game of cricket, with broken bats, improvised wickets and crowded spaces as playground, is not just a great leveler but also an expression of possibilities of change, of something better.

It is this passion that unites and inspires us to dream that anything is possible….Another India with a better future for its children – living in denial, hunger and poverty. It is a collective spirit that makes this unity possible and this is what makes us believe that anything is possible TOGETHER!

ActionAid has created a special spot/moment/promo based on our over 37 years of connecting and joining struggles of children from underprivileged community. It captures the passion and drive of the other Team India as it plays and celebrates against all odds, with stunning pace, visuals and music.

War on the womb: India’s missing daughters

2011-01-25T23:04:00.000-08:00

It is not easy looking at beaming, fresh faces with enquiring eyes of young girls as you set out to imagine blanks spaces – like the faceless outlines of a human form X-rays or black and white prints of ultrasound scans – to charge yourself to shock them into concern and hopefully a position on the issue of female foeticide and violence against women.

In the safe confines of one of Delhi’s prestigious women’s college, the gruesome reality of what it means to be a woman and seek a place of one’s own in a country that kills, burns and rapes it women.

As one of the girl said being a girl child in India is one of the most dangerous professions on earth.

While these girls attempted to cope with the cold statistics of foeticide through moving words strung together as poems and some with power point presentations, what was starkly missing was outrage and sense of urgency.

Looking hard in those eyes that had accustomed to a debatable sense of detachment from the gruesome stories violence against women, one felt the limiting impact it had on them.

Quiet dramatically, and some would say tragically, these girls are in middle of war. A war their mothers were witness to when the weapons of choice to exterminated girls were crude. A fist full of salt would give a new born sudden spike in blood pressure bursting inside the small body would become life less in no time, husk pushed down the throat would choke them and many other similar means.

Their engagement became less detached as we discussed how it is not the poor who kill their girls, it is not a phenomenon that dominates the rural world and it is not the social oppressed groups like dalits and tribal communities that did it.

So standard definition of awareness generation as the core strategy to save female foetuses and stop a war on the womb that has led to extermination of 50 million girls from India’s population, became less believable as the only way to survive.

This needs a fight, not just surviving.

Patriarchy, violence against women and ownership of the struggle at all levels are linked. We discussed how women with no education and massive odds, including threat to life, against them have not only stood up against their men aggressor and passive women conduits to take charge of India’s grassroots democracy.

The struggle for women and girls that starts in the womb and on their wombs changes forms but never quiet ends.

These girls hopefully would go beyond a sense of pain to rage and resolve. We will be going back.

Watch this film when you can:

http://www.actionaid.org/india/index.aspx?PageID=5107

Colours of freedom!

2010-08-14T15:05:00.000-07:00

Photo: PTI

Suspended

2009-09-12T06:38:00.000-07:00

She sat on the edge of a small fort that adorns one of the peaks of the Himalayan mountain range. Looking over the stunning lake and a manicured golf course dotted with patches of pine tree forests from the Pari mahal, the abode of fairies, she was transfixed. She slipped into a daze -- eyes that went still like an evening without breeze.

I had seen this many times in the three days that I spent with her.

"I was here at this spot," she whispered against an evening breeze that made the words resonated in her mouth. She cleared her throat and spoke again,"It was 16 years ago". It came as a surprise as she stayed just about over half an hour drive from this seemingly unreal and stunning Mughal Gardens.

She wasn't in the mood to talk using too many words and explanations. This wasn't her style anyways. But she seemed to be talking to an old friend as she looked deeper and scanned the treetops and the lake that filled the entire view as the sun slipped away.

"This place was accessible to us; the army took over as insurgents started attacking with greater frequency. The civilians were stopped from getting here and many other places of 'ornamental value'." She was back speaking the greying landscape once again.

I turned to two of our other friends who had accompanied us. Both doctors, working with trauma victims in the villages of Kashmir. They too had come here after a decade.

I tried engaging with them, with my NGO mind. About what it meant being separated from one of most beautiful memory. They all had both come here as school kids, when the valley was not resonating with guns.

Each conversation that I had with them carried imagery of past or at best rare optimism about the future, while the present remained paralysed.

Save Niyamgiri Mountain and its Tribal Community from Devastation Petition

2009-07-22T03:50:00.000-07:00

Save Niyamgiri Mountain and its Tribal Community from Devastation Petition

Larger than life

2009-04-18T10:32:00.001-07:00

The sunset was still a few hours away. But a crowd of Meo Muslim men and few young girls appeared restless. But this was not because they wanted to go back to their homes in some of the most underdeveloped parts of India in the desert state of Rajasthan.

They wanted to see how a story, which they crafted, has been told by a group of city-bred folks who recently brought to their villages something that has never come in before. A camera!

Homes in Mirzapur village still have no televisions or radios even today. For the young men here, a film is a porn flick that they have seen while going to attend marriages. Desi porn is often played on portable DVD players placed in the cars these days. These stories when told to the aged men here have established a perception that images of women taken on camera makes their clothing disappear.

These men will give and take lives for keeping the community’s pride, which is expressed through strong restrictions on women on what they wear and how they conduct themselves in social spaces.

Many in this group knew what was going to happen inside the large hall of a blue building that served as a regional centre of an educational initiative working on making schools functional.

“Meo community can turn bronze into gold, can’t they arrange electricity for a few hours,” said a retired college teacher, who now works in the villages inspiring community leaders to demand roads and better schools for the region.

This casual remark sums up the spirit of survival the community has.

Electricity supply had been disrupted for the entire day and no back-up was available.

The result of the camera crew moving around for three days in the presence of a very apprehensive crowd that watched each move, was about to be unveiled.

The story of the first generation of girls going past the primary classes, while negotiating the demands of working on an average eight hours each day and not even talking loudly as it offended the men, was to be narrated to them through a film.

But it was much more than just an inspirational subject. The community was to also asses if the strangers who stepped into their village over five years ago, and were taken in as one of them, have lived up to the faith that was placed on them.

Noor Mohammad, a man with an enchanting smile and stern voice, who, along with his team, has been the driving force of this change.

“One wrong move and these young girls will be locked inside the homes,” he says marshaling his community workers to hunt for a generator.

After one hour as the sun was setting, the bedspread-turned screen lit up with images and voices that the audience knew well. Giggles and nods of agreement started spreading through the room.

The girls turned nostalgic and their eyes lit up. They have lived the struggle and had taken upon themselves to keep it going, but this larger than life projection came as a reaffirmation of all that.

For elders from the community were connected for a small moment with the courage and hard work of the girls. They heard them speak louder than they would have ever allowed at home.

The echoing call from Zaida, protagonist of the film titled “Voices of Change”, that she wants to be somebody and wants to study hit a cord, and the patriarchs flinched.

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A slumdog nation?

2009-01-30T01:03:00.001-08:00

The world’s largest population of urban poor, the world largest population of hungry and undernourished kids and the world’s largest population without schools.

Is it pride that justifies keep these statistics, and worst still the real people who make these numbers, in oblivion, because the growth story on your shinning white collar gets stained.

The worst crime in a democracy is to keep those denied the fruits of it on the margins to make our itchy conscience clean. The bubbles of growth have to be protected from the stench of slums. As smell is hard to forget and wipe out. It lingers and seeps into dreams supported by cushy beds far removed from the slums with airtight air-conditioned rooms.

For those on the streets, the generation next of urban poverty, it is not celluloid that sustains dreams but something much real, the spirit of having lived yet another day without the state or its growth.

Technorati Tags: Slumdog,urban poor,kids,India,Bollywood

Positive and living

2008-11-19T06:04:00.000-08:00

Wipped out

2008-11-11T01:24:00.000-08:00

This boatman in Treveniganj decided to leave his boat as people demanded to be taken across to search for family members. Dozens have lost their lives due to the sinking of boats.

photo: ©ActionAid/Parvinder Singh

Millions have been displaced and thousands gone missing in north Bihar, India, after the Kosi river smashed through an embankment submerging over 400 villages under floodwater in six districts.

Even after two weeks since flooding, water levels are high and claimed new areas, impacting three million people.

Camping in tents, thousands wait for basic amenities as the water continues to be high and rains expected to last through September and October.

Faces from a place not yet consumed...

2008-07-24T06:42:00.000-07:00

Like an animal that has begun devouring itself, the market has found yet another ecological niche. A company wants to turn a mountain into aluminum wrappers, spray cans and weapons. The Niyamgiri hills, in south Orissa, may be ripped open for consumption.

It is home to Kondhs, an indigenous group of people, listed as a special community under the Indian Constitution. They and the mountains have been inseparably intertwined...streams, plants, animals and humans blending into an interdependent world view.

Looking at the city, as the voice from a community, that wants to be left alone with the mountain that they worship as a god, middle aged Kondh woman, Malari, found living on the traffic snarls, perched on the concrete slabs an idiotic and self-defeating life. She has always believed, like her community, since they have taken care of the ecological space of Niyamgiri, it is their world. This fact cannot be refuted by any company or government. This existed before the company or the facilitating leadership.

Ironically, the Constitution is on the side of the Kondh people, and we are bent upon usurping their fundamental rights to life and religious faith.

The environmental destruction mining by the UK based Vedanta can cause has been highlighted by none other than a committee appointed by apex court itself.

When u are busy doing career

2008-07-02T08:40:00.001-07:00

I have been away for long. Drawn by a new assignment, that has challenged me in ways that I had not expected. It is different from what I had done so far, which is to get on with the list of tasks and wrap them up in a breeze. Though I have been hard at doing the task, yet my energies are going into negotiating how my going about the task, not as the end result but the very process itself, is impacting my colleagues. They are coping with change in faces, style and perceptions...

Anyways, the past few weeks have given me bits and pieces of peoples' lives. These are possibly paragraphs in the magnum opus of social change. Change that is giving power to the powerless, rights to the denied and strength to the marginalised.

Dear friends I am coping with much more than the need for powerful words. I am coping with the possibility of giving words to in-describable.

The interface: Man-monkey-art

2008-02-14T08:06:00.000-08:00

Though at the risk of imputing meaning that surely isn't part of this event, I liked this image on my LCD and some how felt like building a story around it. The monkey and her baby, of all places decided to rest on thick sheets of brightly painted human motifs, and that did not disturb the man who would be selling hours, days and weeks of pouring over these lines and breathing life into them.

Did the monkey dream about these paintings that night, about the streams, groves and countryside drawn in these pictures, more like a flight of fantasy away from this market surrounded by monsters of metals that wheel out at great speeds….

I know, this sounds way too close to death by excessive linearity of discourses….but what the heck

Trrrrrrrrrr, mud, paper and a cord

2008-01-07T05:38:00.001-08:00

Unfinished

2008-01-04T08:08:00.001-08:00

The Joy of creating

2008-01-04T08:04:00.001-08:00

Spinning magic on a winter eve

2008-01-04T07:43:00.000-08:00

Mystery of life lies in its simplicity, and we fight day-in and day-out to refute this. The more complex things get, even though they continue to serve almost primordial functions, more reassured we get about its value.

These women were sitting with a pile of fluffy wool. The moment this stuff got entangled in their fingers, before disappearing onto the improvised bicycle wheels, something magical happened, strands of wool appeared. Another bunch of women began giving them shapes. In 30 minutes straight you could see caps or woolen socks emerge.

Fenced out!

2007-10-16T12:18:00.001-07:00

This is the tree, and the only one on the Yamuna riverbed stretch behind Akshardham Temple, where about two hundred people saw the announcement of a satyagarh against commercialization of the riverbed showcased in the construction Commonwealth Games facility that Delhi will host in 2011.

This space was lost soon, as the heavy machinery moved in and drowned the visibility/voice of the campaign.

In the following days, a 12-feet high wall made of concrete slabs metamorphosed and the campaigners, including India's water man, Rajendra Singh, observed the 50th day of the protest underneath a massive water-pipe on the edge of the land where the construction is on in full swing.

When it rains

2007-10-16T12:09:00.001-07:00

One of the earlier pictures. The two- wheeler riders were forced under the only shelter available due a sudden downpour, one of the very few we had this year.

The scene would have been a little different on roads that have trees on the side.

Bonsai and a reptile

2007-10-16T11:51:00.001-07:00

Dwarf palm trees have been added in a big way to the city landscape, as a part of token greening around new building complexes that have sprung up across Delhi. I saw this reptile making a quick meal of flies that came out of the freshly laid manure.

For Pranav, my two-years-old son, this was a bloody scene.

Time stood still

2007-10-16T11:30:00.000-07:00

Shocking!

Meandering across the labyrinthine passage of a massive mall, evading numerous cell conversation and spooky ringtones, we stumbled on a amazingly uplifting stream of music and a brisk walk in that direction introduced me to my first live music experience outside a auditorium.

It must be a test of courage to make a living this way.

Salam!

Living on the edge

2007-10-16T11:09:00.000-07:00

The stock exchange index is just about touching 2k! The country is flirting with a near 10 per cent GDP! And this is the scene in the National Capital of India.

Almost 100 people have been crushed under the wheels of buses that serve as the only mode of mass transport in the city this year alone.

It's a shame that the country that is vying for a place in the list of developed nations can not even provide safe transport to its people.

tech-fashion

2007-10-08T02:48:00.000-07:00

Fishy and dirty! But isn't it ought to be?

2007-10-08T02:02:00.000-07:00

Food goes through a major facelift before it gets to the platter. Assuming that this post is being read by those who get to eat it in the usual way. This Sunday, I was in for a smelly and slightly disconcerting experience. I saw and felt the food that I so relish in its basic and raw form. Fish at the wholesale market of Gahazipur, located next one the largest open dump site in the National capital region. I have climbed this mountain of urban trash on three occasions, to showcase the way we deal with our garbage. People live on this mound of stench and toxics. I once stepped on the fossilized remains of a cow. Something has stayed with me long past these visits.

Anyways I am talking about my excursion to the fish market. The shelf life is very small and the storage facilities are limited so the disposal is high. The mound gets a lot of it. In fact, as you walk around, the chances are you would be standing on the pieces of fish. You most certainly will see carts full of discarded fish being taken away. I think the trade has enough money to support a little investment into the infrastructure, but the government has to at least create them. Not long back a news break made channel headlines on how discarded fish and chicken being recovered from the dump and sold to small time restaurants.

In this picture you can see a man recovering a jumpy catfish from the ground. At the bottom you can see a brown-pink lump that is head of a big fish.

Invisible eateries!

2007-09-14T14:14:00.002-07:00

So much has changed. Especially our sense of need and the price we are willing to pay for its fulfillment. It's a dilemma that plagues some of us in their thirties, as we still have a remembrance of when it all started. The very first television advertisement of Pepsi that was aired and opened the floodgates for the symbols of economic liberalization as they started taking hold of our imagination and desire.

Thirst was redefined for the urban India by the fizzy drinks and two decades down the line, it is making inroads even in areas where potable water is a rarity.

This banal sense of introspection gripped me recently at the parking of Shankar Market, as I waited for my wife to pick up some stuff. From my air conditioned car I was forced to view a very small table serving as an eating joint for a range of people streaming to grab a bite. There was no menu, just one dish called chola kulcha.

In less than an hour about 25 clients were served with a single plate costing just five rupees! It was lunch time and some seemed to be regulars on this stale and spicy preparation.

I recalled my school days when we hardly had any opportunity and hence the need to garb fizzy drinks. The Indian ones were available. It was only in college that one became regular with it and that too more for the sense of emancipation with the image of youth that was being branded.

Anyways, the point is that in the price of a full size pizza, a family of three can have their food requirements for a week fulfilled. And with 70 percent of Indians still spending less than half-a-dollar-a-day, the reason for these invisible eateries is apparent. And no matter how many thousand Mac and Pizza Huts are opened, these snack-cum-lunch-dinner preparations will reach to the people on the move, busy trying to live the dream of approaching prosperity.

Next time try and pretend that your wallet has no money in it and you will suddenly see a whole new world materialize in front of you. Some of it can leave you with stomach upset, but mostly it will be a treat for the taste buds.

Potter Charity

2007-08-22T03:29:00.000-07:00

Is this what social security meant, fear of the gods and the desire for a pleasant afterlife, to the traditional world-view. This line-up of pots is one of the many contributions from well-off patrons of this old-age home. The water in them may not really be drinkable, but the name of donor is etched on the base.

India has over half of its population below twenty-five. Are we preparing for the old people in absence of state-support and shrinking pension linked jobs.

Will she remember this!

2007-08-22T02:29:00.001-07:00

Past mid-night, I hold your small frame. In a close embrace, within the hearing distance of my heart, as you grow into a world that suddenly and strangely emerged around your blurred vision.

Some of our best memories of parenthood happens when our babies have no sense of it and for almost all life thereafter, as they grow into people, a strange craving springs ever so often to be able to somehow share these.

This picture was taken by my wife as I held my two months old daughter and rocked both of us to sleep. Wonder if she will remember this.

Another one for the camera

2007-08-22T01:39:00.001-07:00

Politically correct doll

2007-08-22T01:27:00.000-07:00

This is one of the many toys that we picked up for a study on toxicity and hazard the lead and cadmium in these pose to children. This one is remarkable not just because of its life like appearance, but also for the choice of skin colour...its brown!

I hear it's an important consideration for toy-makers in the US to have coloured doll for coloured people as opposed to white folks. Never thought this is being imported in India too!
I guess they would need a rainbow coloured doll for the Indian market.

Plastic Independence

2007-08-21T13:22:00.000-07:00

No, this is not a statement intended at being dismissive about India's 60th year of being a politically free nation. After a painful and bloody birth, a mass of illiterate and poor people were to usher in the miracle of democracy. The process is still on, despite the 'teeming millions' not getting fruits of keeping this machinery of parliamentary politics functional.

The title is more a reminder of how amidst this growing up and getting complicated about what being politically free citizen meant, one has lost the connect with the emotive experience of living this day in a state-run school. Free sweets, the unfurling of national flag and the exhilaration of the national anthem being sung to the beats of drums. All this made the day special or more than just a day off from the office that it has become.

There are symbols galore, which made associating with the idea of independence more tangible. On the eve of this Independence Day, I was at a shop to pick up a khadi attire for my two-plus kid. Seeing him in a Gandhi cap spurred a strange longing and reminded me of how synthetic the idea of independence has become in all these years.

This picture is of a plastic doll kept at the entrance of the Khadi shop in CP, and to me, as I enviously saw a steady stream of children pour in to dress-up in the special fabric, it captures a debasing of the idea of India as an emotive expression.

By the way my son knows a patriotic jingle now, and I plan to hear it as many times as I can, since I am all too grown up to do it myself.

It's a game

2007-08-10T21:49:00.001-07:00

Delhi's trees are under an unprecedented assault. Close to 50,000 trees have been felled for making the National Capital a world class city! All this has been happening in the name of mega transport projects, particularly the high capacity bus corridor and metro. They are expected to ease the traffic woes during the peak hours.

Those planning these projects have never spared a thought for the role that urban trees, or neighbourhood trees have played in the city's life, I mean beyond the confines of air conditioned space in the office, malls and vehicles. The city is a part of a semi-arid geographical zone and this makes the neighbourhood trees critical for its inhabitants. Through its history those who occupied the seat of power here, planted and protected trees. So you have a city that has been one of the greenest in the world. Delhi draws over half of its water from the ground, and one need not stress here the importance of trees for ground water recharge.

Some feel there is a rapture between what the planners think or profess as the city's need, and what people really need.

This picture is from the very first citizen's expression against felling of trees that they have lived with for close to half a century. The dismay also sprung from the sheer ruthlessness that was exhibited by the Government. They never saw this coming. No one even bothered to inform then. It was a candlelight vigil with 100 odd people from environmental fraternity and few dozen housewives from the residential areas near this tree-line.

These two boys sell magazines at the Chiraj Delhi traffic signal. When we occupied the central verge to display banners to attract eyes in the slow-paced traffic, the two approached us for display cards. They live on the sidewalk under the trees that are being cut. They knew once the trees are gone the shadow that gave life-saving respite from the summer sun will be gone too.

There is something very soothing about big trees. They offer a sense of security that cannot felt on a cemented surface.

These homeless boys are going to loss their homes once again!

On the road to nowhere

2007-08-09T07:52:00.000-07:00

I spotted this glorious bull on the national highway that connects Delhi with Noida. It was a hot May evening and the traffic was inching because of the many roadblocks that dot major roads, courtesy the ongoing construction for the metro rail system.

The backdrop that you see is of a massive shopping mall called "The Great India Place". Numerous global brands have shops here. It is as yet in a semi-finished state. It sprung up in a record time with businesses, ranging from multi-national brands to builders, capitalizing on the spending spree of the young middle-class with greater disposable salaries and higher credit limits.

Bang opposite to this structure is an existing shopping complex. Next to the existing one, a huge open area has been dug up for making space for four floors of a seven storied mall.

This space transformed from an open fallow ground to prime property covered under concrete and tar in just five years.

This bull perhaps grazed on this very ground as a young calf.

Animals like this, with wounds on their body, caused by vehicle and scared workers engaged in these never ending construction, can be frequently spotted on Delhi roads.