Justice prevails

 

Heartless?
Cynical?
Sadist?
Ruthless?

Call me whatever you like but I will not deny that the news of the death of Ram Singh, the prime accused in the rape of the 23-year-old physiotherapist student in Delhi brought me solace. Now tons may point fingers at me for not being compassionate, for not respecting the human life.

My apologies if I call a spade a spade. If for me tit for tat,especially in this heinous mockery of humanity in the very first place, is what works, then yes, inhumane I am. I am sorry for my subsided anger after his suicide because I am convinced that I might not have lived to see the justice being delivered! I might not have seen the animal being dragged to the gallows like I would have liked! We all know better; the way our great judicial system works. A whole century may pass, a whole new age might begin before the criminals are punished and the victims are given justice. Period.
And then we have people creating a ruckus over his suicide? I ask, why? Even if we talk about ‘humanity’ ,like they put it, but a death is a death. He surely would not have been declared innocent. Now or  even 20 yrs later,he would have been hanged(or I like to believe this is what the lawmakers and those in power had though of. If not, then shame on them.) Isn’t the death, chosen by him, better than those lonesome cruel years of hardship and emotional ,physical and mental turmoil for his parents (and to some degree for the accused too)?
What made him do that? Remorse? Guilt? Fear? Dread?or plain helplessness?Whatever be the reason, Justice has prevailed.
The funny thing is, my views would have been completely different had the country not been India. Had it not been India but a country with functioning administration, lawmakers and judiciary I would have waited for law to take its own course. For the law to PUNISH him. ‘Punish’ is the word. Make him pay for his sins. Pay for each and every tear, each and every drop of blood, for each and every cut her body bore, for each and every scream she let out in despair, for each and every painful sigh. For her survivors, for whom losing their daughter wasn’t the only loss they were mourning, it was also the cause of her death.
It was MURDER! Cold blooded calculated murder! And murder demands punishment. Harsh, severe punishment that becomes a dreadful example for those who for even once let the thought of harming a girl cross their minds branding it a crime of ‘desire’ and ‘passion’.

But then the scenario changes when we talk about our great country. With time and money at the disposal of those who consider themselves the ‘gods’ of this country, the biggest democracy, sadly I have neither the time nor the patience for being a witness to open denial of justice. So for even the death that he chose,the way he liked, is a welcome justice. Wrapped differently, presented differently, but justice nonetheless.
My faith is restored.
The countrymen might have failed, but he never fails. His court is the most just. His punishment the fairest.

Santa-less Christmas

 

 

If growing up means no Santa, I don’t like growing up. Disliking is still softer. I hate it. Detest it. Can’t stand it. Its a heartbreak. Well, you must have an inkling of how I feel now. So yes, its those grown up years of Santa-less Christmas.
Remember those days when you could not keep shut about the approaching Christmas and new year?Those years when this was a busy season for you!And why not. You had to make a card for practically everyone In town. Still didn’t reach there? Umm…it was a year plus minus around those years when collecting cards from chips bags was as exhilarating as collecting some rare piece of invaluable art? That should give you an idea of the decade I am talking about.
sadly, I  have grown up now. (and I believe so have lays makers. They don’t give u cards now right?)
Christmas used to be as exciting as Diwali or Holi!Nobody reasoned it out to be back then that ‘we don’t celebrate Christmas kid.we celebrate Diwali!’ Whatever.
Those exciting nights when you could not sleep fearing you might miss Santa while he sneaks into your bedroom to put your gift ( that you had now told the entire world) you so wanted!
And like every year. You dozed off, but voila!like every year!There still was the glossy gift wrapped toy. Nothing could wipe out the smile off your face.(Not until new year which make it mandatory to provide another gift!)
Now when I come to think of it,it was a gradual process.
The time capsule trip from fantasy to reality ,I call it.
First came the realization that it Doesn’t snow on Christmas like they showed in home alone movies.
Second came the realization that you were not really getting what you asked for!It was a crude compromise you were making.Dad said it had to do with recesses (recession he had said,I now know!) that affected Santa too. Poor Santa.
Third came the shocking realization that Santa is not real.
That broke my heart.literally.(the entire neighbourhood came home to console.)
Fourth the fact that it was your own parents who got you gifts.( That wasn’t so bad ,time would soon tell me. *sigh* at least the gifts were still making there way to my bedroom!)
Fifth (which I realized some years later) we don’t celebrate Christmas.
This was the hardest to take in.Still is!So much so that going to west to celebrate Christmas,the way they do it, has made it to my bucket list.
The gifts started receding…the numbers dwindling. And don’t start me on there quality. Oh boy! From toys we went to chocolates,to other eateries, to one day…I shudder to think the cold nothingness besides my pillow…NOTHING.
It wasn’t entirely about the gifts. It was about the entire hype and festivity that Christmas brought.The dressing up as Santa for fancy dress in school,or going to club parties all dressed up,or eating cake and cookies Mrs D’souza sent your place. It was everything small and big.
I miss my Christmas I come to conclude (when I sit grumpily under my quilt,surfing through the Disney movies on Christmas ,yes feeling jealous)
But Let not my realization and bubble burst moment dampen your spirit.merry Christmas and a happy new year (to all those who are reading this on Christmas, because believe you me, if you have nothing better than reading this during the festive holidays…I say.. cheers!)

 

 

P.S. I wrote this article in my sullen and grumpy mood during the Christmas vacation.So much is the heartache of Santa-less Christmas that I could manage to muster the courage to put up this article only when the grumpiness wore off;hence the delay and the ill-timed post!

Let the lesson be learnt

 

‘India is a secular and sovereign state’ we quote proudly. But are we?
Since time immemorial one dispute that has always walked shamelessly with its vain head bobbling up, with the ironic ‘development’ of India, is the one that feature the world ‘religion’ in it. Still we do not learn. The gruesome and blood streaked partition of India-Pakistan should have taught the country and its citizens a lesson. But sense goes for a six when it comes to ‘religion’.
Lives have been lost, world disrupted, homes broken, histories written but sadly the lesson hasn’t been learnt. The people given the quintessential task of representing us still spend months and days discussing about a release of a movie, which might hurt the sentiments of a class of citizens residing in the country.

Pages are filled discussing the banishment of an author for a piece of her wisdom that might shake the silent giant. We have seen enough, heard enough,bore enough, suffered enough, repaired enough.
Still, we are yet to learn the lesson.

It happened in Punjab…it happened in Kashmir…it happened in Gujarat…it happened in Assam…still we do not learn.
Since when has a developing country plagued with persistent hunger,poverty,malnutrition,illiteracy  gotten any good by being religion sensitive? It hasn’t done any good…and it WILL NOT do any good. We know it. Every Indian does. But still we do not learn.
When  the great minds should be focused on grave economic and social issues we talk about ‘out tried and tested, vote bank attested’ issue. ‘Religion’.
A black has been re-elected as the president of the USA but we still talk about hinduvta and ‘minority’.Why? Convenient. Easy. And sadly still a issue touchy enough to rake the long healed and forgotten but (occasionally) revived wounds.
Grow up. Wake up. Or even better, find out new, urgent, needed issues to fight over.
Then only can we be called ‘developing’, in mind and mentality, sense and karma.
Let the lesson be learnt.
Amen!

Eyes lowered down in shame

A fresh wave of nausea strikes as I open the newspaper.
I had been restraining myself from penning down my thought, foreseeing the pain it would bring me. But bottled up if it remains, the disgust might drive me crazy.
Heinous and inhumane was the act,shaking my every cell , paralysing me.but well so does every news of rape and molestation in Delhi! I have treaded the same path,taken the same road ,boarded the same bus or train,and might have even,how much ever I shiver to think, crossed those culprits ,someday ,sometime,that have brought shame to even the almighty.Poor god must be having a tough time-saving his face.what did he create?
Rattling and horrifying the incident was , what makes me disgusted is the  hypocrisy of attention starved virtual world heroes and world saviours!
My Whatsapp and BBM were spotted with black dots ‘in an attempt to show shame for a country which does not respect women.’, facebook wall flooded with petition calls. Respect for those who genuinely care, but what about the rest? What deceives you is the status that follows next, gloating of your recent hangout or recent buy of few thousands, giving away your true concerns,and what about the nasty comments that you thought were witty that followed your status say of your intentions? You are better than that.You can keep that pretence for longer!Can’t you now?Incredible.
The nausea strikes again. My eyes hover for longer on the news pieces that are scattered all over the main piece carrying news of the massive support of thousands for the Delhi gangrape victim.
The news pieces talk about the horrifying news of the rapes..rape of a minor,rape of a rural woman,rape of a student.rape of a married woman by her own husband ..rape rape RAPE!!!This when the rape issue is the discussion of almost every indian!Its gets all blurred thereafter.That had to do with the tears of helplessness and shock and fury and yes, fear!
Everyday should be maintained as a black day..everyday a candle march conducted,everyday the messages broadcasted. We all know better. This just wasn’t one of the cases of the atrocious rapes…neither was it the only one that resulted in such a huge outcry. When the girl battling for her life In safdarjung hospital has the support of the nation what about those thousands of unnamed.Sometimes even considered unimportant for a tiny place in the newsprint.(Ofcourse ,we already have 5 pieces of rape in this issue.Let’s not add this one in this issue)..and sometimes even unrecorded.
I hear people talk about castration. Then there are some who talk about a death penalty.I sadly have no suggestion or opinion to give.If you go on killing or carrying out castration for every male with a ‘buri nazar’ then you are signing up for a country with no males. At all. Because being teased on the way to your college or market or being ‘touched’ inappropriately by the other sex is a day you thank your stars,thanking that it ended there.It didn’t go beyond that.Why should we ,the fairer sex in the society get accustomed or habitual to being always objectified by the insensitive  eyes of men that make you feel stark naked even when  ‘appropriately’ clad?
The virus lies much deep. Much much deeper. Deeper than the reach of the eyes of media or the policy makers.the virus is much damaging than the HIV virus.This virus,though recessive at times yet is present in every EVERY man of this society.
I wish I had a solution,wish the greatest of scientists had  its cure.Wish I had an answer.
Till then,I can just  lead a  life of fake safety.’Wear proper clothes,travel with a group. preferably have an elder male around .’ and hope to answer the call from my mom back home,reassuring that yes,I had managed to live for another day in delhi,unscathed.

10 SURESHOT TIPS TO WRITE A SUCCESSFUL ARTICLE!!!

10 SURESHOT TIPS TO WRITE A SUCCESSFUL ARTICLE!!!

 

1)    Start your article with a bombarding, earth shaking, and retorting question.

2)   Take out a dictionary. throw some mind boggling, heavy words which make the reader even more keen to read your article.     (He/She will be too ashamed to drop the newspaper because of his inability to comprehend the meaning.)it is easy.

paired with alacrity and wit apply the jargon which compels the reader to scratch his cranium!!see!!?

3)   This is a tricky one.

Crack a joke every say 5-6 lines.

You are even taking notes!!!! Yes!What an intelligent lot I have!

(see, I just cracked one.)

4)   Timothy Cruiser once said“the art of writing a prose lies in fact in its simplicity.”

You know who Timothy is? No? Even I do not. you do the same.

5)   Exaggerate!!!!!!Use exclamations!!!!!!!Who doesn’t know that???!!!!?

6)   Make up a heartbreaking story. Write about a torturous, sweet soul with an equally indulging sweet name.

Bring out the drama lad!!!!

(P.S.: Reserve Rahul,Raaj,Rohit for love stories.)

7)  You are almost halfway now. Stating a few facts won’t hurt you

Lazy bum!!!

8)    You have thought of the theme right? you know why you are

writing the thing right?

9)   Write some more. Fill the pages.

And then…..

END. ABRUPT. CLIMACTIC.

Almost like the last line isn’t really supposed to be there but the reader is ashamed to accept the fact that he read the 200 words and did not understand the end.

10) Or you could do what I just did!

 

I just wrote an article!!! 😛 😛