“I have to become a Bolero Class, Bhaiya! Look… you studied Management and moved into the Corporate Class. But as for me, I have no choice… I have to go into the Bolero Class…”
Bolero Class! When Pikku first mentioned this term, I didn’t quite grasp its meaning. Living away from your village or hometown can make the local language feel alien. That year, during my visit to my native place, Pikku shared that he was soon opening a new restaurant on the main road of Rajabazaar. A new locality with affluent people had come up in the area. The inauguration of the shop was set for Dhanteras.
I was slurping down a bowl of Rasmalai when he mentioned Bolero Class. I stopped and had a blank expression on my face. He could understand the predicament in my eyes.
“Why are you surprised? It’s the vehicle of choice for every leader… all… big or small. If you were here, you’d understand the sense of power that comes with it when you drive through the streets of Sitapuri and Muzaffarpur in one of these vehicles with the ruling party’s flag fluttering proudly on the bonnet. And if you’re lucky, you might even spot a plate...Read more
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