Who is the aam admi and does he really exist?

Who is this common man—aam admi—politicians cannot stop talking about? Damn him. He seems to be the person holding the country to ransom for his selfish interests. He is the potent excuse to stop everything remotely progressive. He won’t allow reforms, he won’t tolerate any inconvenience to his life and take the smallest price hike, be it water, electricity or railway fare. He is too stubborn to change and too narrow-minded to think about the country. In popular discourse, he stands in contrast to the khas admi, the man who is better off financially and socially and enjoys the good life. He either has access to power or controls it and he is always in a position to benefit while the rest of the country goes down the drain. All this, of course, at the cost of the poor, miserable aam admi. But who is this aam admi? Does he really exist? One cannot be too sure. It is possible that he is a clever fiction created and perpetuated by politicians. Imagine a scenario where no leader is talking about him. That would be end of politics in India. The truth is, if he does not exist then leaders would need to invent him. He is a necessity to keep the business of politics running. [caption id=“attachment_244679” align=“alignleft” width=“380” caption=“Everyone is aam and khas depending on the circumstances of their existence. AP”]  [/caption] If at all he exists, does anybody ask him whether he really minds paying a few rupees extra for water, electricity and whatever is essential to his life? In all probability he won’t hesitate to lighten his purse a bit more for train fare if it  ensures him of safety on the train. He will never refuse to pay that extra money on water, electricity and a bus ticket if he perceives it is good for him. He can certainly afford the additional monetary burden. But he would ask questions before committing himself to it. He is a practical man. He would accept FDI in retail if somebody convinces him that it is good for him. He would give the thumbs up to reforms if he is satisfied that it will help him. He is not as dumb as our politicians believe him to be. After all, he is the man who votes heavily to kick out governments and throws leaders and parties off their high pedestal when he feels they are not useful enough. Be sure he understands the meaning of progress, of development. Only, it has to be relevant to him. He would offer land for industries if his immediate and future needs are taken care of. If the power tariff is hiked then he would demand quality of service. If he has to pay more he would certainly ask questions and seek answers. He is not a mindless nay-sayer. And what makes the common man so aam and the khas admi so special? We will never know. There’s no benchmark that sets them apart. Everyone is aam and khas depending on the circumstances of their existence. The man driving a car is not necessarily more special than the man riding a bike or the man on the bike is not necessarily better off than the man commuting on a train. The happiness quotient would be qualitatively different for a farmer from that of a man running a factory. The quality of being aam would be similar as would be the quality of being khas. Inflation hits both the categories hard as does recession. Everyone makes readjustments in their budgets when there’s a cash crunch. Is aam admi a poor man? Not necessarily. But if he is believed to be so then, the government has not yet been able to define who is poor. And money is never the best parameter to judge quality of life. The difference between the two is a self-serving mental construct we have been made to accept as the reality of our existence. It is an illusion deliberately created to deceive people. As we said earlier, the aam admi has to be created if he never existed. It keeps the whole machinery of politics running. The common man has become an instrument of political opportunism. Isn’t it high time we did away with the aam admi?