Karl Marx very rightly observed when he declared history nothing but a ‘class struggle’. From Protestants and Catholics, liberals and conservatives, proletariat and bourgeoisie, leftists and rightists, nationalists, fascists, anarchists; so many of them. Yes, I concur that history is but a continuous struggle between classes. And what constitutes these classes? As Hegel rightly observed, it is the underlying values and morals, the beliefs that form the linchpin of our political, economic and social institutions. It has only been a few months that I have become the member of the biker’s community. But even in the nascent stages, I have come across a number of issues that these bike-riders of our country in general, and city in particular, encounter on almost daily basis, including smoke, dust, etc. The scorching heat and the piercing winters; the falling rain and the dirt slung upon their clothes by the drivers hurtling their cars in sheer arrogance and indifference. Then, the revving of the engines falls like a rebuke and the hostilestares of those in cars. Ofcourse one cannot scoop up every car-owner in this city to be falling into the above category. But, yes, there are so many fits for the candidacy as well. The above problem is a concern of another magnitude for the office going people — the officewherein dress pants and shirts spruced men and women with smiling faces, and winsome manners roam. But under each smiling face there reside problems, tensions, marital and financial issues. Behind these glittering clothes, there is a compromise which people, who cannot afford at times to enjoy such habiliments, often exercise. The bikeridershave their own concerns. While the car-owners enjoy the sound ofthe first rumbling of the clouds, the bike-riders muse an array of options for making their way back home safely. So much for rains and clouds. This show of insouciance is not only limited to rains but in a normal season as well. Take the example of traffic flow. I have observed that the four-wheel drivers have considered by some self-delusional thought that the road space belongs only to them. They consider the two-wheel drive as an infringement of their property rights. Most of the times in case of accidents, the blame is that to be of the bike-rider. But to save this piece from becoming an “autobiography of a bike rider”, I now turn towards the main cause, the root of this and many other ills of society: empathy. The value of empathy, at least I believe, is what renders a human, truly human. But in today’s world, where everything is on the brink of change, the moral values are also not safe from this transformation. It is ironic and deplorable that we now hear people giving advice to others that due to the prevailing circumstances one should rarely stop to give a lift to any other person and that stopping by to help others can turn out to be dangerous in many cases. And their concern is justified as there are many incidents where the person seeking lift has robbed the man who stopped by. This show of indifference at the roads is a flash of the decaying moralities and principles of our society as a whole. We see this corruption of scruples going at the highest echelons. The government, so to say, suffers from the same disease. Yes, it is better to term this ‘deficiency’ as disease. How do you suppose that a man in a black SUV with black-tinted mirrors covered with fog caused by the incessant breathing of the AC, will be aware of the plight of the common man that is, during summers, standing on the traffic signal bearing the merciless heat, waiting for the ‘protocol’ to pass. I recall a beautiful short story by Oscar Wilde — The Happy Prince. Where the Prince, always enclosed by the high walls of his palace, was utterly unaware of what lay beyond it. The man in the SUV and this prince strikes a surprising resemblance. At this point, many of the readers would be blaming me for being a victim of the ‘biases error’. Hence, to shed of such accusations, I confess that this nescience is not unrequited and yes there are times when these bike-riders are at fault — actually many times. But whatever has been said above is not false either. We started from bikes and ended in SUVs. But I would stress the importance of empathy and concern for others if not at the highest levels but at least on the roads. Maybe that is the best place to start with? Here is an excerpt from the aforementioned short story. “When I was alive and had a human heart,’ answered the statue, ‘I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime, I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet, I cannot choose but weep.” The writer is a student of International Relations with interest in International Political Economy. He can be reached at osamarizvi10@hotmail.com