We the people.........

                               There were times when I could write pages together supporting the freedom of press, quoting Article 19 of the constitution , stating  media to be the  `fourth pillar of the democracy, blah ,blah ,blah……….An ardent supporter of the right to expression and individual 

liberty , I was dumbfounded when I closely saw the media working.

                               Sacrilege : the newspaper headlines screamed……..the SP City agra steps on a stage set for a religious function, with her shoes on. Blasphemy???........read on

                              It was one ‘o’ clock in the morning and I was taking a round in the city.......  to make sure the pickets, the mobiles and the chowkis-in-charge,the station officers are on their jobs........... what an ungodly hour to be working one would say, but in policing its a matter of routine. We provide security to people at the cost of our families, our children's education, our leisure.............

                            The traffic on the roads had thinned out and hence i decided to open the "no entry" which was in force and let the heavy vehicles into the city on the MG Road. As i moved forward i noticed a crowd of around 80 people sitting around a makeshift stage, set for a religious function ,with some ten odd people sitting on the stage and one man standing and playing a harmoniun and singing "dulhan to jayegi dulhe raja ke saath......suno sasurji".I got down from my car and enquired the station officer as to who the organizers of the event were and whether they had the permission to organize it. i was informed that they did not have the permission but it was a traditional function held every year for the past 300 years or so.

                         I climbed up the stage and tried to reason with them asking them not to block the whole road which would cause both way traffic to move on the same side of the divider and hence increase the chances of accidents. We also  offered them a solution whereby we would place some barriers on the road so as to partition it and let the traffic pass slowly on one side.Also we arranged within 20 minutes for the barriers and some bamboos and made makeshift barricading so that the gathering would be safe and the traffic would also be able to pass slowly, at which they decided to call off  the event itself. I came back home and slept.

                         Woke up next morning to learn that people  have jammed the MG Road saying that the SP City had misbehaved with them the previous night. I reach there, the city magistrate reaches and we hold conciliatory talks with them and finally the matter is resolved. They propose that they would go ahead with the function the coming night and we agree saying that it would be without blocking the whole road.

                       The same night i got a call from my station officer saying that the organizers would not allow barricading and demanded a diversion of traffic for the night. we along with the administration tried speaking to the organizers but they would not relent. Religion is indeed the opiate of the masses, but religion has always been amenable to logic,the followers are not.At last we had to divert the traffic which resulted in heavy traffic jams and accidents.

                           

                        As i entered the hospital the unmistakable , sickening smell of the hospital filled my nostrils, i walked towards the lift and went up to the 5th floor and there he was, my constable ,lying in the ICU one leg amputated, bandaged all over,two bottles hanging over him one filled with blood,other with some other fluid both flowing into him through needles pierced into his body, surrounded by a paraphernalia of equipment beeping with LEDs emitting green ,yellow lights ................fighting for his life.The victim of the religious insanity of people, who care a bit too much about God but care two hoots about his creations. He was lying there quietly, will not merit even a mention in the newspapers ,forget about media highlighting the apathy of people and educating their readers and viewers 

                        The media today is a bunch of metric pass,tobacco chewing morons with yellow teeth who i doubt can even spell journalism.They use "press" so that they can violate the traffic rules without being challaned, so that they can force their entry in an exclusive event, so that they can hold people to ransom on various pretexts and all this at what cost............. exactly at the price of a decent camera and shamelessness.

                        

                         I felt ashamed of being a part of this society when the media had come up with cheapest of slogans after India had won the finals and the match against Pakistan.We as a nation had shown utmost disregard for sport spirit and proved to be such contemptuous and conceited hosts. I felt disgraced, and, as on many other occasions earlier as well, it left such a bad taste in the mouth............... and lets not be under any illusion, mind you there is no light at the end of the tunnel as well. The media is selling us bullshit because we are buying it, because the intelligentsia is either dead or dying, because either we have lost our ability to think and react or we have accepted it as our fate.............. Its a pity that we have a sterile leadership who will rather gladly succumb to this yellow journalism than stand up and call a spade a spade 

                     

Finding meaning......

    The moon looked beautiful as it rose at the horizon behind the trees, she was walking on the deserted road in the campus attempting to appreciate things she always did……………..the moon, the flowers, the sight of an old couple walking . She always believed that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and it seemed more true than ever to her now…………… because all of it didn’t seem beautiful now             

               

                       The moon always fascinated her, it made her philosophical, it forced her to think , to ponder, to theorize, to appreciate , to find meaning....................but  today it made her sad . she believed beautiful things always make one happy but she  made amends  to her beliefs now and felt things seem beautiful when one is happy..............one must be happy to see the beauty she correlated. and she wondered what was happiness?

How does one achieve it?

Where does one find it?

Are all the people who seem happy really happy?

Is it  ephemeral ?

Is it always followed by sorrow or does it always follow sorrow.................??????

She thought for a while ,then gave up realizing she was trying to find answers, to the most difficult questions that the human race was ever confronted with, just by looking at the moon!!!!! She gave up and thought it all depended on God........one should probably leave it to Him

                   But how did she know that? who told her that it all depended on Him?..........She was reminded of the theories of religion she had studied in Anthropology which suggested that it was man who created God and not God that has created man. Those theories had suggested that the ancient man could not comprehend the reasons behind whatever happened around him or could not make sense out of events such as thunderstorm, lightning, disease, death etc and hence was overawed and associated all of this with something that was more  powerful than the combined power of humanity,something or someone who controlled the universe and the events.this also helped psychologically because it meant shrugging off the burden of responsibility and accept things as His will.

                   She herself had undergone major upheavals in her religious inclinations..............in the early phase when she hadn't attained much in life and consequently did not have much to lose as well , she had been sort of  an atheist and believed in nothing but her capabilities to make things happen .After a while she attained some things in life  and didn't want to lose them and turned into a believer , a bit later she lost them and turned into a god fearing individual ................

                  She saw various interpretations of God and religion..............people getting drunk in the name of religion and picking up fights, people who believed that taking out a procession with music systems blaring vulgar songs was the only way one could satiate one's God, people who would bribe the authorities to get a faster darshan,  people believing that religion could have no relationship whatsoever with logic...............

                                       Another one  was by a friend when he narrated to her a story portraying a young  blind woman who begs for a living , clad in filthy torn clothes  has been abandoned and lives on the streets ,eats all rubbish she can get, raped by people, kicked out of places............. she lives in this very world created by god and amongst the people who are believers of god. There is a man who lives in the same world and one day beheads the woman  proclaiming himself to be God.

 ‘Naan kadavul" a tamil phrase meaning i am God...............

God is supposed to end our suffering and he ends hers

 Her trail of thoughts  got interrupted by the blaze of the headlights of a car that took a turn and entered into the compound..............”tu na jaane aas paas hai khuda “ was the song that played in the car

 she looked up, the moon had travelled up in the sky, it looked smaller......................and less beautiful

This was the most beautiful flower

The park bench was deserted as i sat down to read,

beneath the long straggly branches of an old willow tree,

Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,

For the world was intent on dragging me down.

And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,

a young boy out of breath approached me all tired from play.

He stood right before me with his head tilted down,

and said with great excitement : look what i found !!

In his hand was a flower , and what a pitiful sight,

With its petals all worn down  , not enough rain or too little light.

Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,

I faked a smile and then shifted away.

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side,

And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,

It smells pretty and its beautiful too, thats why i picked it, here its for you.

The weed before me was dying or dead,

not vibrant of colours , orange , yellow or red.

But i knew i must take it or he might never leave

So i reached for the flower and replied: just what i need

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,

 he held it midair without reason or pain.

It was then that i noticed for the first time,

that the weed toting boy could not see,

he was blind.

I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like sun,

as i thanked him for picking the very best one.

You are welcome he smiled and then ran off to play,

Unaware of the impact he had on my day.

I sat there and wondered how he managed to see,

a self pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.

How did he know about my self indulged plight?

Perhaps from his heart he had been blessed with true sight.

Through the eyes of a blind child at last i could see,

The problem was not with the world, the problem was with me.

And for all of these times, i myself had been blind

I vowed to see the beauty in life and appreciate every second thats mine

And that i held that wilted flower upto my nose

and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose.

And i smiled as i watched that young boy,

another weed in his hand

about to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.........

                     
                                    “The speaking tree”

                                      The times of India

Facade

She was sitting in the office trying to hide her grief behind an unconvincing smile, wishing people a happy new year. People poured in her office to wish her a very happy new year, her eyes welled up in tears and she blinked faster to prevent them from showing. Wondering at futility of wishing happiness for someone she thought , how elusive it was.

 Questioning the ways of the world, questioning the ways of God ,she sat staring at the walls thinking why was she chosen to go through the worst crisis of her life alone and vulnerable on this day when the whole world celebrated the coming new year……………..what was her mistake and if not why was she suffering………….

Her office has run short of space for keeping the bouquets and her table is filled with diaries and calendars, her mobile has not stopped ringing, her inbox Is  full of messages……………..her outbox contains just one message and every time her mobile rings she hurriedly picks it up expecting ………………may be he would wish her too, ………………….and again someone walks in and salutes and wishes her and again she puts on her façade , façade of happiness…………

The journey

                                    

An army of personnel consisting of one driver , one gunner ,one man on telephone duty, two followers and a homeguard , a house ,an esteem car with a blue beacon light, all waited for me as I took charge as SP city Agra. Scenes from my past flashed in my mind……………

It was pouring so heavily that roads looked like drains, the tree branches were stooping with the weight, I and my sister  were waiting for the army truck which took us to school when the phone rang and one of my classmates informed that the DM of the district  had declared a holiday because of the rains……….

As I grew up i  was made to  understand that the civil servants are the steel frame of the country. When asked in the interview why civil services I had proudly told that I believe this the only service where one has direct interface with people and one is in a position to deliver immediate justice to them  where u make a difference in the lives of the people and make a contribution to their well being.

i realized as I grew into the service that “ immediate” will be as immediate as the babu in the office wishes.

I was signing the “daak” in the office ,for the non bureaucrats I must explain it is a pile of hundreds of papers which comes to office everyday to each bureaucrat. It is a conglomeration of complaints, orders and instructions from above and one just sends it to the concerned after scribbling ‘for n.a. please’. A woman entered in the office ,she looked at me and smiled, I tried to remember where had I met her. I greeted her, my mind still racing fast, diving into the sea of memories for that ‘eureka’ moment where I would recognize her. There was awkward silence for some time, then to my relief she spoke, she told me that she had met me when I was posted in Meerut in relation to a case where her mentally challenged daughter was raped by a relative and I had instructed for an FIR to be registered. She had come to tell me that her daughter had passed away after two months and a final report was sent in that case due to lack of evidence but thanked me for getting the case registered. I wondered if this was the “immediate justice” I spoke of……………….may be God intervened to put an end to the mockery of justice ,forget about immediate justice…………

As I settled down on the cane chair in my lawn and started to contemplate I realized I had come far………………………..probably too far