Champu was nobody. He was living in some part of India and living an ordinary life as you and me. As us, he was also too much disturbed by daily life corruption and lethargy of our government bureaucracy regarding roads, hygiene, communications, you name it he was suffering. Finally, one day he went to temple and prayed to Devima to do something about it.. something to improve our life condition. He cried, cried and finally Devima answered his prayer. She told that she will make him MP (Member of Parliament) for one hour and disappeared.
Before Champu understands anything, he found himself in parliament, where MPs discussing about Jan Lokpal bill. Champu heard each MP’s speech regarding Lokpal bill. Finally at last his turn has come. Speaker asked “ Champu Lal.. its’ your turn for speech. “ Champu slowly stood up from his seat and looked entire parliament where laws are being made and country is being governed. He looked at all MPs and few empty seats. He started his speech…
“ Madam speaker and members of parliament, I am new here. So pardon me if I mistakenly break any parliamentary procedure or courtesy. As I can see, today we have assembled here to speak about Jan Lokpal bill. I want to segment my speech in 3 parts 1) World is flat, 2) Parliamentary Supremacy 3) Corruption & Politicians
1) World is Flat is a book written by American Columnist Thomas Friedman based on his interview with Nandan Nilekani. ‘World is flat’ means, in this internet age, knowledge barriers have been removed. Any information is just one click away. One information superhighway has been created and where any rural village boy of India can access Harvard journals online. Available information abundant and capacity of mind is the only barrier. You can feed as much information as you can digest. Given this flatness, youth easily see what is happening at another corner of the world and how people is living there. And this creates aspiration to live better. I was not that demanding about good roads and better civic management before 10 years, but now I compare my country with China and US and I find myself shamed as far as infrastructure is concerned. I want good, clean roads and transportation as developed countries. This desire was not intense before 10 years. This flatness has brought new change globally. Evidence is found in Middle east uprisng. Egyptian, Tunisian and other middle east dictators have never thought year before that they will be thrown by common people. Hosni Mubarak has ruled for appx. 35 years and suddenly within 3 months, he was thrown out by common Egyptian youth. India as democratic country and IT giant can’t be untouched by impact of this flatness. Our youth’s aspiration has increased leaps and bounds. But after all India is not Egypt or Tunisia and therefor Lokpal agitation has been peaceful and non-violent. Having said flatness of world, We have to be flexible enough to accommodate new ideas. So long this aspiration is limited to city youth but surely in near future, It will spread in rural towns as well. Facebook has reached to tier 3 & 4 Indian cities. MPs should be flexible enough to accommodate ideas born outside Parliament and bring them into parliament, discuss, amend, audit, refine and make legislation to serve people. After all democracy is to serve people. We should not live in belief that MPs and cabinet ministers are only smart enough to make laws and other outsiders can’t contribute in law making process. This attitude reflects our feudal mentality of ruling poor people. In this era, when all information required is click away and aspiration of living better life is running high than ever, any government should able to cope with change and accommodate new fresh ideas coming from outside.
2) Arguments have been given that Parliament is supreme and nobody is above constitution. Agreed that Parliament is supreme but Parliament is made for People, by People. Thus People are supreme. Democracy, Parliament and Constitution is made for people. And thus any legislation which is to make people’s life better, to improve the governance can’t be against constitution. Some experts are saying that, bowing down to agitation like lokpal is setting dangerous precedent. In future somebody can use same tactics to press selfish agendas which may put national secular fabric or democratic value in danger. I want to argue that momentum as Lokpal agitation has got and leaders as Anna Hazare is rare and can’t be copied that easily. We have to believe in maturity of 2011’s India and Indian people. We also have to trust wisdom of our MPs. In case in future such incidents do arise, our constitution, civil society does have strength to deal with that. Our Civil society, which is against government, can be helpful to counter such selfish agenda by individuals. Government can shake hands with civil society and make them partner in safeguarding our constitutions ’basic ideology. We can’t suppress present good intent movement, just because of fear of possible future bad-intent movement. If we do so, we can’t initiate any reform or required change in society. Babasaheb Ambedkar, Gandhiji and others have given us a constitution 60 years ago. They have given us a boat to sail through sea of time. Now after 60 years, this boat has developed certain holes, by inner rates. We need seal it. We need to fix it. It simply does not mean we are changing the boat; we are doing only maintenance work. Until now Member of Parliament has initiated the discussions on any new legislation, then after elaborate discussion, amendment, it has become law. Now civil society has triggered the first step and Parliament is discussing it. This new beginning of people’s participation. A new innovation or custom mostly faces criticism. I have read somewhere that When Graham Bell shown first telephone to mayor of New York, he simply rejected the idea by saying “ who will use it ?” Rest is history. People tend to live in certain comfort of set rules. When those rules are challenged, mostly people react with resistance but in due course of time, accept the acceptable. Lokpal bill is inevitable. New precedent has been set to let people of civil society participate in law making process. Some people will like it and some will dislike this new initiative, but it’s like travelling in train, where all passengers will reach to destination whether they will like destination or not !!! Change is fact.
3) Politicians have become synonym with corruption. It’s not like there is no corruption in other profession but Politicians are first to be blamed. When a engineer buy a car, public view it as promotion, when a business man buys a car, it perceived as success in business but when a politician or government bureaucrat buys a car, it seems as fruit of corruption. Right from my childhood at Tea stalls, at bus station, at streets any where in India, I have heard, “ Politicians make money”. Most of Politicians are corrupt that’s general feeling in the street. Why ! Who gave Politicians bad image ? Does anyone sitting in parliament, have credibility to mobilize people nation-wide against corruption as Anna Hazare has done ! Why we have lost that credibility ? And if we have lost, we have to gain it back. This is the time to do it. This is the time to make politicians as noble profession again. We can do it by making strong lokpal.
I want to end by saying that my daughter is 2 years old. I dream that when she will be 18, she need not to pay bribe to get her first vehicle license. Finally I am so proud today as Indian about our non violent way of Lokpal agitation for 13 days. Indian youth have protested and participated in agitation but not a single stone has been thrown and bullet has been fired. That’s’ miracle. Gandhiji and his principles are still alive, only that we need a catalyst. “
As Champu ended his speech, he woke up. He was dreaming with smile on his face.
Written by Vadan
Sunday 28 August 2011
Sunday 21 August 2011
Anna’s Rangrangella PrajaTantra(Colorful Democracy)
Anna’s Rangrangella PrajaTantra(Colorful Democracy)
Anna’s fever has charged up Indian people and politics.
Government is taken aback by unprecedented support and youth involvement in the Lokpal agitation. Which intellectual has predicted about Rise of Anna before 5 April 2011!. Lokpal bill had never been issue of interest of our senior journalists or political experts in past. Thanks to Anna that every-one is now jumping in and shouting for or against Lokpal, describing their visionary wisdom !!
My purpose is not to write about Lokpal and its’ implications, but want to write a story, about how individuals are dealing with Lokpal-mania. I have chosen few characters, and their thinking about the agitation.
1) Shantilal, the school principal (Time: 4 PM)
Shantilal was a school principal of a Municipal school at Khambat, a small town of India. He has reached to post of principal due to his old relationship with local politicians. In complex maze of corruption everyone is connected, by selfish motives. Shantilal used to share govt financial aid, to modernize the school and bribe money for appointing teachers with local politicians and in turn gained promotions and other associated benefits.
Today he was thinking " Friday is Pateti(Parsi new year) and Monday is Janmastami, if he put leave for Wednesday and Thursday, than he will get entire week to relax " This was not possible as he has rejected teacher’s leave request on these days. After all he was Principal and has to exercise his authority sometimes. As he was engrossed in thoughts meanwhile watching television, got brilliant idea ! He urgently convened school staff meeting and announced “since entire country is supporting Anna Hazare, we also need to do our bit. Thus I am declaring to keep the school closed for 2 days as mark of our support to Anna's anti-corruption campaign. School will reopen on 23 Aug." Listening to this, most of staff got happy and few got confused but choose to be silent and decided to follow the majority. Khambat school got mini vacation, children were happy and so their teachers. While leaving school happy children were shouting as fun, "Anna tun age badho, hum tumhare sath hei kyunki hum ko chutti hei".
Shantilal smiled to them.
2) Mr.Nair (Retired Govt clerk, X-Freedom struggler, Time: 4 PM)
Mr.Nair has participated in freedom movement in his teen age. He has still remembered the news of freedom; he had spread in his Mohalla. He remembered that few old people were critical of Gandhiji and believed that India can never get freedom from mighty British empire. But she did got freedom and Nair distributed sweets to them as well. Years have been passed and Nair retired as govt clerk at city revenue dept. He has witnessed the rotting of system, rise and growth of corruption age, withering moral values and systemic collapse of Gandhian ideology and ever-growing rise of dishonesty. Nair's dream of Gandhi's India shattered every day in his office and finally he gave up. He accepted that Gadhiji’s ideas of non-violence and simplicity has no takers in economy driven world. He accepted corruption as fate and sent his son to US to live in more honest society. He was alive just to breath, without any purpose. Today was different. After watching Anna's agitation, Youth participation in Gandhian way, Candle light marches, and Fluttering tri color flag have triggered gush of energy into his old fragile body. He remembered his teen age freedom struggle. His old, fatigued heart started beating again. Day before he was hopelessly waiting for death, now he wants to live more. He saw a tiny ray of hope, penetrating hard solid rocks. Will this tiny ray melt the century old rocks and vanish the underneath darkness ? Nobody knows, but this is the time for hope and Mr.Nair felt that hope. Blood in his feeble veins has been charged. He held his wooden stick firmly and strained his weak legs. He pulled himself, implying all his physical energy and finally stood up. With help of wooden stick, he slowly started walking towards cupboard. He opened the cupboard. His old eyes were scanning through pile of clothes. Finally he found, what he was searching., An old Gandhi Topi, not used for years. He looked at him as precious jewel, as an achievement of his generation. His shaking hands moved and he put it on his head and looked himself in the mirror. The room was empty and entire Nation was watching him.
3) Sushil Kumar (Business Man, Time: 4 PM)
Sushil Kumar is involved in textile business. Because of nature of his work, he had to deal with various central and state govt beaucrates. Internally Sushil was honest man but to run his business, his business ethics has permitted him to take support of bribe. Initially Sushil was hesitating in asking for bribe but now he has habituated about the rates and modes of payment. Sushil has been very generous in giving bribes and this habit was product of belief that govt is supreme authority which can shut down hia business anytime. Because of his inherent fear he used to pay bribe for all legal work also. Paying bribe was the only right, he knew as citizen. Today watching anti-corruption agitation, he was confused. He could not understand the logic behind Lokpal bill. He could not understand the reason behind youth anger. He was so much wrapped by corrupt practices that they no longer remained corrupt, rather became only legitimate way of working for him. He can’t imagine another system of governance than current. He concluded his thought process by accepting that may be he has to make provision for one more stakeholder in future, a Lokpal official.
4)Lakhpat ( A rural farmer, Time: 4 PM)
Lakhpat was a farmer of Rampa towm. Rampa was an rural town, where electricity has not reached. It was an interior of interior kind of town, where modernity has not touched yet. Most of the villagers are farmers, using medieval methods of farming. Since there was no electricity, Town did not had a TV set hence no Anna fever. Town people used to hear benefits of electricity from other towns and yearning to have same for their town. Today Lakhpat heard about Anna Hazare from his powered-town friend. He explained same to his wife " You know there is an Old Man is fasting at big town to bring new kanoon(Law) called Lokpal. Under Lokpal every town will get electricity. ". Lakhpat has interpreted Lokpal bill that was meeting his requirement. The fact is that Central govt had plan to connect Rampa 10 years ago but all the financial aid has gulp down by corrupt supply chain and electricity has never reached to Rampa. Will Lokpal bill fulfill Lakhpat's dream to get electricity ? I dont know !! In fact, nobody knows..
This country aspires to be nicer than it is now. Youth dreams to live in better India. Iron is hot and this is the time for Govt to cleanse the system. This country needs enema to flush out the dirt and this is the time to it. Darkest fear is national disheartening if this movement fails to reach its positive conclusion.
Regds
vadan
Anna’s fever has charged up Indian people and politics.
Government is taken aback by unprecedented support and youth involvement in the Lokpal agitation. Which intellectual has predicted about Rise of Anna before 5 April 2011!. Lokpal bill had never been issue of interest of our senior journalists or political experts in past. Thanks to Anna that every-one is now jumping in and shouting for or against Lokpal, describing their visionary wisdom !!
My purpose is not to write about Lokpal and its’ implications, but want to write a story, about how individuals are dealing with Lokpal-mania. I have chosen few characters, and their thinking about the agitation.
1) Shantilal, the school principal (Time: 4 PM)
Shantilal was a school principal of a Municipal school at Khambat, a small town of India. He has reached to post of principal due to his old relationship with local politicians. In complex maze of corruption everyone is connected, by selfish motives. Shantilal used to share govt financial aid, to modernize the school and bribe money for appointing teachers with local politicians and in turn gained promotions and other associated benefits.
Today he was thinking " Friday is Pateti(Parsi new year) and Monday is Janmastami, if he put leave for Wednesday and Thursday, than he will get entire week to relax " This was not possible as he has rejected teacher’s leave request on these days. After all he was Principal and has to exercise his authority sometimes. As he was engrossed in thoughts meanwhile watching television, got brilliant idea ! He urgently convened school staff meeting and announced “since entire country is supporting Anna Hazare, we also need to do our bit. Thus I am declaring to keep the school closed for 2 days as mark of our support to Anna's anti-corruption campaign. School will reopen on 23 Aug." Listening to this, most of staff got happy and few got confused but choose to be silent and decided to follow the majority. Khambat school got mini vacation, children were happy and so their teachers. While leaving school happy children were shouting as fun, "Anna tun age badho, hum tumhare sath hei kyunki hum ko chutti hei".
Shantilal smiled to them.
2) Mr.Nair (Retired Govt clerk, X-Freedom struggler, Time: 4 PM)
Mr.Nair has participated in freedom movement in his teen age. He has still remembered the news of freedom; he had spread in his Mohalla. He remembered that few old people were critical of Gandhiji and believed that India can never get freedom from mighty British empire. But she did got freedom and Nair distributed sweets to them as well. Years have been passed and Nair retired as govt clerk at city revenue dept. He has witnessed the rotting of system, rise and growth of corruption age, withering moral values and systemic collapse of Gandhian ideology and ever-growing rise of dishonesty. Nair's dream of Gandhi's India shattered every day in his office and finally he gave up. He accepted that Gadhiji’s ideas of non-violence and simplicity has no takers in economy driven world. He accepted corruption as fate and sent his son to US to live in more honest society. He was alive just to breath, without any purpose. Today was different. After watching Anna's agitation, Youth participation in Gandhian way, Candle light marches, and Fluttering tri color flag have triggered gush of energy into his old fragile body. He remembered his teen age freedom struggle. His old, fatigued heart started beating again. Day before he was hopelessly waiting for death, now he wants to live more. He saw a tiny ray of hope, penetrating hard solid rocks. Will this tiny ray melt the century old rocks and vanish the underneath darkness ? Nobody knows, but this is the time for hope and Mr.Nair felt that hope. Blood in his feeble veins has been charged. He held his wooden stick firmly and strained his weak legs. He pulled himself, implying all his physical energy and finally stood up. With help of wooden stick, he slowly started walking towards cupboard. He opened the cupboard. His old eyes were scanning through pile of clothes. Finally he found, what he was searching., An old Gandhi Topi, not used for years. He looked at him as precious jewel, as an achievement of his generation. His shaking hands moved and he put it on his head and looked himself in the mirror. The room was empty and entire Nation was watching him.
3) Sushil Kumar (Business Man, Time: 4 PM)
Sushil Kumar is involved in textile business. Because of nature of his work, he had to deal with various central and state govt beaucrates. Internally Sushil was honest man but to run his business, his business ethics has permitted him to take support of bribe. Initially Sushil was hesitating in asking for bribe but now he has habituated about the rates and modes of payment. Sushil has been very generous in giving bribes and this habit was product of belief that govt is supreme authority which can shut down hia business anytime. Because of his inherent fear he used to pay bribe for all legal work also. Paying bribe was the only right, he knew as citizen. Today watching anti-corruption agitation, he was confused. He could not understand the logic behind Lokpal bill. He could not understand the reason behind youth anger. He was so much wrapped by corrupt practices that they no longer remained corrupt, rather became only legitimate way of working for him. He can’t imagine another system of governance than current. He concluded his thought process by accepting that may be he has to make provision for one more stakeholder in future, a Lokpal official.
4)Lakhpat ( A rural farmer, Time: 4 PM)
Lakhpat was a farmer of Rampa towm. Rampa was an rural town, where electricity has not reached. It was an interior of interior kind of town, where modernity has not touched yet. Most of the villagers are farmers, using medieval methods of farming. Since there was no electricity, Town did not had a TV set hence no Anna fever. Town people used to hear benefits of electricity from other towns and yearning to have same for their town. Today Lakhpat heard about Anna Hazare from his powered-town friend. He explained same to his wife " You know there is an Old Man is fasting at big town to bring new kanoon(Law) called Lokpal. Under Lokpal every town will get electricity. ". Lakhpat has interpreted Lokpal bill that was meeting his requirement. The fact is that Central govt had plan to connect Rampa 10 years ago but all the financial aid has gulp down by corrupt supply chain and electricity has never reached to Rampa. Will Lokpal bill fulfill Lakhpat's dream to get electricity ? I dont know !! In fact, nobody knows..
This country aspires to be nicer than it is now. Youth dreams to live in better India. Iron is hot and this is the time for Govt to cleanse the system. This country needs enema to flush out the dirt and this is the time to it. Darkest fear is national disheartening if this movement fails to reach its positive conclusion.
Regds
vadan
Sunday 14 August 2011
Hanged between Hell & Heaven!!!
Today Mustafa was very happy man. Finally He was selected for the mission. His lifelong desire has been fulfilled. He had worked and prayed too hard for the mission. Mission was to serve the God by offering own life. All he has to do is press a button, a blast and he will be called Martyr. Mustafa was dreaming to be a suicide bomber.
Mustafa was born in small town near Kandahar, Afghanistan in 1992.Troubled by frequent fight between Taliban and other Afghan tribes, Mustafa’s father has migrated to nearby town of Pakistan. Comparatively Pakistan was peaceful place at that time. His father has enrolled Mustafa to a Madrasa so that he can get daily meal and some religious teaching.
This Madrasa was run by Ali Jabbar, a cleric believed in Wahabi kind of radical Islam. He believed that one day all women on the earth will wear burqua(veil) and all men will grow long beard like him. This can be achieved by never ending attacks on infidels and strong supply chain of ready-to-die young people. Harboring these extreme thoughts, he was preaching his type of Islam to his students.
The funding of Jabbar’s madrasa was interesting. He was receiving a penny from Pakistan’s official government to run his madrasa as symbolic gesture. Most of his funding came from Saudi Arabian oil billionaire Umar Ul Sheikh. At first sight, Umar was sponsoring Jabbar's madrasa as service of his religion. The real reason for this sponsorship is to train young people to sacrifice their lives to serve the ideology of extremist Islam at any given day. Umar’s major income came from European and American rich petrol companies. These oil companies were business partners and together they were earning millions of dollars every day from increasing global oil prices. Even though Umar has very good business relations with his American and European counterparts, internally he never liked their beliefs on democracy, woman liberty etc. He felt that western civilization destined to perish one day and Islamic nations will lead the world. Actually Umar was confused man as he has to retain cordial relation with Americans and Europeans to sustain and grow his business, meanwhile harboring intense hatred for their civilization. As result, he used to earn petro-money from them and some part of it diverting it towards Jabbar’s madrasa to vent out his pent up hatred. This rotation of petro-money simply means that whatever petrol price , we are paying, may be some tiny part of it going to train some extremist somewhere to plant bombs in some of our towns some day !!
Ironically 10 years ago, Jabbar started this madrasa with US funding to train Islamist Army to defeat Russia from Afghanistan. Primarily it was American idea to build such religious Army who can fight against Russians and they funded Jabbar like madrasa for their selfish motives. They used religion to mobilize local youth against Russia. They did not knew that, religious army they are building, will backfire on them in future ! Once Russian vacated Afghanistan, US had left the region and Jabbar had problems in finding new sponsor. Saudi Arabian Umar has filled the vacuum and became new sponsor for similar motives, built religious Army to fight against infidels to protect Islam. Only difference was that first Jabbar taught his students to fight for Americans, now he is teaching fight against Americans. It did not make any difference to him; so long he is getting money to run his business. Poverty has also played its cards. Poverty and ignorance of world community had left no choice for poor children to join religious madrasa for food and some basic teaching. Putting all together, Jabbar’s madrasa business kept flourishing.
Jabbar has put notice that he wanted 2 young men from his madaressa who can blow himself and kill maximum infidels. He received numerous applications and had hard time for selecting correct candidates. One candidate Jabbar, already had on his mind was Mustafa.
Mustafa has seen such notices in past but because of he was not young enough, could not apply. But now he was 18 and eligible for the application. He applied and due to his good reputation, got selected by Jabbar.
Sometimes we mask our true desire by another more acceptable desire to outer world. The reason behind Mustafa’s intense urge to be fidayeen is obviously to serve his religion. Apart from serving the religion, there is one deep, unspoken, desire to die and go to Jannnt(heaven) and meet Jannat ki Hoors (virgin girls of heaven). He has never spoken to his inner desire to anyone but harboring it.
From childhood he has heard about Jannat. Jabbar has described Jannat as “Those who died for religion will go straight to heaven. Soon as they die, one white light from Sky will fall on them and they will ascend to Jannat. True Martyrs will live in big glass mansion with garden full of Apples, Grapes and Oranges. Small river of sweet water will flow from the Garden. There will be small boathouse at the bank of river. Beautiful Jannat Ki Hoor will decorate boathouse for her master(Fidayeen) every eveing… etc,… “
Further Jabbar has described the features of Jannat ki Hoor as “ beautiful as moon, soft as rose, agile as deer and sexy as Wild River in monsoon. These Hoors will be wives of Fidayeen in heaven, and he can enjoy them entire day as he will be given masculine power 100 elephants. There will be lavish bed for him and he can sleep as much as he wants. His queens will serve him delicious food in golden plate, will bath him, dry him.. Etc… and most important he will be young forever… “ Entire prayer hall, filled by young men were listening to Jabbar’s temping explanations without blinking their eyes and lost in their own version of Jannat.
These and many more temptations have filled Mustafa’s mind and he has started fantasizing about his heavenly queens. He has decided what gifts, he will take along with him, but then he realized that during blast, his entire body will explode and thus gifts were not good idea. He has memorized famous poetries about beauty to impress his queens. He was praying day in and out to get selected for the mission and he decided not to marry any earthly woman and keep his love intact for Jannat ki Hoor. To realize his dream to meet Jannat Ki Hoor, he did everything to win his master’s attention, as be obedient student, developing his physical strength, etc.
Due to his loyalty to Jabbar, he got selected for the suicide mission. He has been preached that the more infidels he will kill, greater respect he will receive in Jannat. Thus he has planned everything very carefully to kill maximum number of infidels. Plan was like they will take flight to Nepal and infiltrate from Nepal into India. Somebody will escort him to New Delhi. At New Delhi, some local help will drop him at crowded mall and he has to press a button, blast and over to, Jannat Ki Hoor, and then enjoy forever… Precaution was to keep his identify hide till he finishes his mission. He had shown the pictures of blast place to position him correctly. He was totally equipped mentally as well as physically for the blast and inspiration was already there. Everything was going smoothly till one day !!!
Mustafa was summoned by Jabbar in his personal room for review of attack. Mustafa entered into his room and Jabbar was not present. Mustafa told to wait for him. Suddenly Jabbar’s cell phone rung and since no one nearby, Mustafa took the cell phone. He has never used cell phone before and was bit curious about it. “ Whether cell phone will be available in Jannat !!” He did not had the answer. He tried to answer the ringing cell phone but before he could find right button, call got disconnected. In his search of right button to receive the call, Mustafa pressed unknown buttons and reached to folder “My pictures”. Mustafa pressed one more time, which he should not have. Now Mustafa was about to witness something he never seen before and it was going to destroy happiness of his life.
When Mustafa pressed My picture folder of Jabbar’s cell phone, he opened the secrets of Jabbar’s life. Jabbar has stored sexy pictures of Samantha Fox, Mallika Sherwat and much more in his cell phone. Mustafa has never seen pictures like this. In his wildest imaginations, he has not imagined THIS… His mind was chocked and thoughts were blocked. He kept watching them over and over again. for brief moment, he has already reached Jannat.
Jabbar came and found Mustafa engrossed in My pictures. He was scared for a moment but found out way to fool Mustafa. He snatched phone from Mustafa’s hand. Mustafa was speech less. Jabbar in very serious voice told him that “ these pictures are of infidel’s women. If you got seduced by these pictures, you have committed SIN and then you will not go to heaven, even if you die for our religion. Only those will avail the luxury of heaven, who has pure soul, without any temptation to worldly matters. If you feel temptation after watching these dirty pictures, you will go to hell after death, where they will tie to a large pillar and then thousand of worms will swarm on your body and will eat you till you die. It will take 10 years before you die and till then they will keep eating you little by little. Now tell me what did you felt after watching these pictures ? “ Mustafa was shocked, stunned and scared. He felt that he has no other option then to lie. He replied that “ I am feeling very angry on these women, I hate them”. Jabbar smiled and pet his shoulder. He replied “ Good, you are true soldier. Now you are fully ready to be martyr. “
Jabbar declared him pass from last temptation test. He told that “ Now you are chosen one and cannot retreat. If you retreat now from the mission, you will be counted as Infidel and be killed like one.” Mustafa replied that “ I am ready to die my religion”. Jabbar and Mustafa embraced and before Mustafa leave, he advised “ Don’t tell about this test to anyone. This is top secret test “. Mustafa nodded and smart Jabbar smiled.
From that day onwards, Mustafa’s mental peace has gone. His dream of meeting Jannat Ki Hoor shattered. Pictures of cell-ladies are kept reoccurring in his mind and he could not get rid of them. His mind was completely obsessed with Jabbar’s cell ladies. Now these ladies have become Jannat Ki Hoor for him, making him was very sad. The more his mind tends to think about them, the more he got scared of going to hell.
As day of suicide got near, his inner conflict grew tremendously. He could not stop himself from thinking about cell-ladies, thus fear for hell also increased proportionally. He could not tell about his growing fear to anyone. He was torn between his natural instinct and responsibility as Martyr-in-making. His dilemma was, he can’t retreat from his mission and if he dies he will go to hell and will be tortured by thousands of insects. As worst case if he retreats, he will counted as infidel and will be killed by Jaffar and go to hell, will be tortured by thousands of insects. Poor, Ignorant Mustafa….
Mustafa’s parents and relatives had given big party to honor him as true, proud soldier. Mustafa has reached to Nepal and then to Delhi.
The day of martyrdom has come. Mustafa along with 2 other suicide bombers sat in car for final journey. They hugged each other and promised to meet each other at Jannat. Mustafa was totally undecided. He did not know what to do !! His mind was toggling between, cell-ladies and insects of hell !! His blast location has come. Car driver hugged him for final time. He gave him some money to eat before the blast.
Now Mustafa is standing at 1st floor of famous mall of New Delhi. He was seeing people walking, smiling, laughing, and eating, children playing….. He was amidst big crowd.. And all he has to do is press a button… Mustafa thought “ Let me press the button and die. If Jannat is not written in my destiny, let it be. Let myself burn be eaten by worms in hell, that’s my punishment and I have to suffer… “ Engrossed in such thoughts, he took his position to kill maximum as possible people and about to press the button to blast himself. Then suddenly a thought hit his mind and he stopped.. He stopped.. And he ran to restroom.
At restroom, He removed his bomb belt and defused the bomb. He left the mall, went to railway station and took train to Kolkata. From Kolkata, he went to Sikkim. He did not know where he was going, he just kept travelling till he reached to one small, isolated town, where he felt he can stay for some time. He had spent all his money thus required to earn some. Barber of town told him that, there is one big fruit farm, outside the town, where farmer require a helper.
He went to that farm.. Big farm full of fruits as Oranges, Grapes and Apples,, exactly he has visualized as Jannat. He met the farmer and joined him as helper. He has learnt to plant the seeds, nourish them till it starts giving sweet fruits. Farmer had a daughter… When Mustafa saw her first time, he forgot all his cell-ladies, Hell’s insects, Jaffar, and Jannat.. She has became true, single Jannat ki hoor for him.. sorry Jamin ki hoor for him…
Question is what thought stopped Mustafa from blasting the bomb at Delhi mall !! The thought, was if Jannat is so lavish place and Jannat ki hoor is so beautiful, WHY Jabbar himself not blasting himself and go to Jannat ? Why teacher is not doing, what he is preaching to his students ?
By Vadan
Mustafa was born in small town near Kandahar, Afghanistan in 1992.Troubled by frequent fight between Taliban and other Afghan tribes, Mustafa’s father has migrated to nearby town of Pakistan. Comparatively Pakistan was peaceful place at that time. His father has enrolled Mustafa to a Madrasa so that he can get daily meal and some religious teaching.
This Madrasa was run by Ali Jabbar, a cleric believed in Wahabi kind of radical Islam. He believed that one day all women on the earth will wear burqua(veil) and all men will grow long beard like him. This can be achieved by never ending attacks on infidels and strong supply chain of ready-to-die young people. Harboring these extreme thoughts, he was preaching his type of Islam to his students.
The funding of Jabbar’s madrasa was interesting. He was receiving a penny from Pakistan’s official government to run his madrasa as symbolic gesture. Most of his funding came from Saudi Arabian oil billionaire Umar Ul Sheikh. At first sight, Umar was sponsoring Jabbar's madrasa as service of his religion. The real reason for this sponsorship is to train young people to sacrifice their lives to serve the ideology of extremist Islam at any given day. Umar’s major income came from European and American rich petrol companies. These oil companies were business partners and together they were earning millions of dollars every day from increasing global oil prices. Even though Umar has very good business relations with his American and European counterparts, internally he never liked their beliefs on democracy, woman liberty etc. He felt that western civilization destined to perish one day and Islamic nations will lead the world. Actually Umar was confused man as he has to retain cordial relation with Americans and Europeans to sustain and grow his business, meanwhile harboring intense hatred for their civilization. As result, he used to earn petro-money from them and some part of it diverting it towards Jabbar’s madrasa to vent out his pent up hatred. This rotation of petro-money simply means that whatever petrol price , we are paying, may be some tiny part of it going to train some extremist somewhere to plant bombs in some of our towns some day !!
Ironically 10 years ago, Jabbar started this madrasa with US funding to train Islamist Army to defeat Russia from Afghanistan. Primarily it was American idea to build such religious Army who can fight against Russians and they funded Jabbar like madrasa for their selfish motives. They used religion to mobilize local youth against Russia. They did not knew that, religious army they are building, will backfire on them in future ! Once Russian vacated Afghanistan, US had left the region and Jabbar had problems in finding new sponsor. Saudi Arabian Umar has filled the vacuum and became new sponsor for similar motives, built religious Army to fight against infidels to protect Islam. Only difference was that first Jabbar taught his students to fight for Americans, now he is teaching fight against Americans. It did not make any difference to him; so long he is getting money to run his business. Poverty has also played its cards. Poverty and ignorance of world community had left no choice for poor children to join religious madrasa for food and some basic teaching. Putting all together, Jabbar’s madrasa business kept flourishing.
Jabbar has put notice that he wanted 2 young men from his madaressa who can blow himself and kill maximum infidels. He received numerous applications and had hard time for selecting correct candidates. One candidate Jabbar, already had on his mind was Mustafa.
Mustafa has seen such notices in past but because of he was not young enough, could not apply. But now he was 18 and eligible for the application. He applied and due to his good reputation, got selected by Jabbar.
Sometimes we mask our true desire by another more acceptable desire to outer world. The reason behind Mustafa’s intense urge to be fidayeen is obviously to serve his religion. Apart from serving the religion, there is one deep, unspoken, desire to die and go to Jannnt(heaven) and meet Jannat ki Hoors (virgin girls of heaven). He has never spoken to his inner desire to anyone but harboring it.
From childhood he has heard about Jannat. Jabbar has described Jannat as “Those who died for religion will go straight to heaven. Soon as they die, one white light from Sky will fall on them and they will ascend to Jannat. True Martyrs will live in big glass mansion with garden full of Apples, Grapes and Oranges. Small river of sweet water will flow from the Garden. There will be small boathouse at the bank of river. Beautiful Jannat Ki Hoor will decorate boathouse for her master(Fidayeen) every eveing… etc,… “
Further Jabbar has described the features of Jannat ki Hoor as “ beautiful as moon, soft as rose, agile as deer and sexy as Wild River in monsoon. These Hoors will be wives of Fidayeen in heaven, and he can enjoy them entire day as he will be given masculine power 100 elephants. There will be lavish bed for him and he can sleep as much as he wants. His queens will serve him delicious food in golden plate, will bath him, dry him.. Etc… and most important he will be young forever… “ Entire prayer hall, filled by young men were listening to Jabbar’s temping explanations without blinking their eyes and lost in their own version of Jannat.
These and many more temptations have filled Mustafa’s mind and he has started fantasizing about his heavenly queens. He has decided what gifts, he will take along with him, but then he realized that during blast, his entire body will explode and thus gifts were not good idea. He has memorized famous poetries about beauty to impress his queens. He was praying day in and out to get selected for the mission and he decided not to marry any earthly woman and keep his love intact for Jannat ki Hoor. To realize his dream to meet Jannat Ki Hoor, he did everything to win his master’s attention, as be obedient student, developing his physical strength, etc.
Due to his loyalty to Jabbar, he got selected for the suicide mission. He has been preached that the more infidels he will kill, greater respect he will receive in Jannat. Thus he has planned everything very carefully to kill maximum number of infidels. Plan was like they will take flight to Nepal and infiltrate from Nepal into India. Somebody will escort him to New Delhi. At New Delhi, some local help will drop him at crowded mall and he has to press a button, blast and over to, Jannat Ki Hoor, and then enjoy forever… Precaution was to keep his identify hide till he finishes his mission. He had shown the pictures of blast place to position him correctly. He was totally equipped mentally as well as physically for the blast and inspiration was already there. Everything was going smoothly till one day !!!
Mustafa was summoned by Jabbar in his personal room for review of attack. Mustafa entered into his room and Jabbar was not present. Mustafa told to wait for him. Suddenly Jabbar’s cell phone rung and since no one nearby, Mustafa took the cell phone. He has never used cell phone before and was bit curious about it. “ Whether cell phone will be available in Jannat !!” He did not had the answer. He tried to answer the ringing cell phone but before he could find right button, call got disconnected. In his search of right button to receive the call, Mustafa pressed unknown buttons and reached to folder “My pictures”. Mustafa pressed one more time, which he should not have. Now Mustafa was about to witness something he never seen before and it was going to destroy happiness of his life.
When Mustafa pressed My picture folder of Jabbar’s cell phone, he opened the secrets of Jabbar’s life. Jabbar has stored sexy pictures of Samantha Fox, Mallika Sherwat and much more in his cell phone. Mustafa has never seen pictures like this. In his wildest imaginations, he has not imagined THIS… His mind was chocked and thoughts were blocked. He kept watching them over and over again. for brief moment, he has already reached Jannat.
Jabbar came and found Mustafa engrossed in My pictures. He was scared for a moment but found out way to fool Mustafa. He snatched phone from Mustafa’s hand. Mustafa was speech less. Jabbar in very serious voice told him that “ these pictures are of infidel’s women. If you got seduced by these pictures, you have committed SIN and then you will not go to heaven, even if you die for our religion. Only those will avail the luxury of heaven, who has pure soul, without any temptation to worldly matters. If you feel temptation after watching these dirty pictures, you will go to hell after death, where they will tie to a large pillar and then thousand of worms will swarm on your body and will eat you till you die. It will take 10 years before you die and till then they will keep eating you little by little. Now tell me what did you felt after watching these pictures ? “ Mustafa was shocked, stunned and scared. He felt that he has no other option then to lie. He replied that “ I am feeling very angry on these women, I hate them”. Jabbar smiled and pet his shoulder. He replied “ Good, you are true soldier. Now you are fully ready to be martyr. “
Jabbar declared him pass from last temptation test. He told that “ Now you are chosen one and cannot retreat. If you retreat now from the mission, you will be counted as Infidel and be killed like one.” Mustafa replied that “ I am ready to die my religion”. Jabbar and Mustafa embraced and before Mustafa leave, he advised “ Don’t tell about this test to anyone. This is top secret test “. Mustafa nodded and smart Jabbar smiled.
From that day onwards, Mustafa’s mental peace has gone. His dream of meeting Jannat Ki Hoor shattered. Pictures of cell-ladies are kept reoccurring in his mind and he could not get rid of them. His mind was completely obsessed with Jabbar’s cell ladies. Now these ladies have become Jannat Ki Hoor for him, making him was very sad. The more his mind tends to think about them, the more he got scared of going to hell.
As day of suicide got near, his inner conflict grew tremendously. He could not stop himself from thinking about cell-ladies, thus fear for hell also increased proportionally. He could not tell about his growing fear to anyone. He was torn between his natural instinct and responsibility as Martyr-in-making. His dilemma was, he can’t retreat from his mission and if he dies he will go to hell and will be tortured by thousands of insects. As worst case if he retreats, he will counted as infidel and will be killed by Jaffar and go to hell, will be tortured by thousands of insects. Poor, Ignorant Mustafa….
Mustafa’s parents and relatives had given big party to honor him as true, proud soldier. Mustafa has reached to Nepal and then to Delhi.
The day of martyrdom has come. Mustafa along with 2 other suicide bombers sat in car for final journey. They hugged each other and promised to meet each other at Jannat. Mustafa was totally undecided. He did not know what to do !! His mind was toggling between, cell-ladies and insects of hell !! His blast location has come. Car driver hugged him for final time. He gave him some money to eat before the blast.
Now Mustafa is standing at 1st floor of famous mall of New Delhi. He was seeing people walking, smiling, laughing, and eating, children playing….. He was amidst big crowd.. And all he has to do is press a button… Mustafa thought “ Let me press the button and die. If Jannat is not written in my destiny, let it be. Let myself burn be eaten by worms in hell, that’s my punishment and I have to suffer… “ Engrossed in such thoughts, he took his position to kill maximum as possible people and about to press the button to blast himself. Then suddenly a thought hit his mind and he stopped.. He stopped.. And he ran to restroom.
At restroom, He removed his bomb belt and defused the bomb. He left the mall, went to railway station and took train to Kolkata. From Kolkata, he went to Sikkim. He did not know where he was going, he just kept travelling till he reached to one small, isolated town, where he felt he can stay for some time. He had spent all his money thus required to earn some. Barber of town told him that, there is one big fruit farm, outside the town, where farmer require a helper.
He went to that farm.. Big farm full of fruits as Oranges, Grapes and Apples,, exactly he has visualized as Jannat. He met the farmer and joined him as helper. He has learnt to plant the seeds, nourish them till it starts giving sweet fruits. Farmer had a daughter… When Mustafa saw her first time, he forgot all his cell-ladies, Hell’s insects, Jaffar, and Jannat.. She has became true, single Jannat ki hoor for him.. sorry Jamin ki hoor for him…
Question is what thought stopped Mustafa from blasting the bomb at Delhi mall !! The thought, was if Jannat is so lavish place and Jannat ki hoor is so beautiful, WHY Jabbar himself not blasting himself and go to Jannat ? Why teacher is not doing, what he is preaching to his students ?
By Vadan
Friday 12 August 2011
UNKNOWN UNCLE
This is short story is fiction, based on true relationship.
Fortunately my bedroom window is not blocked by any skyscraper. It gives me view of entire society and connecting pathway. My window is gateway for me to observe my surrounding life activities. I like to watch running children to catch the school bus, rushing office executives, milkman pedalling his loaded cycle, relaxing security guards, crooked crows, anxious pigeons etc.
Accidently I have noticed an old gentleman in late seventies, mostly in jovial mood, greeting people, gossiping with security guards, humming songs sometimes, plucking the flowers etc. In our country, where mostly old age is considered only for Bhakti & Bajaans, this kind jovial senior citizen is hardly seen. I didn’t know this guy personally but it has some sort of impression in my memory.
One day I was taking elevator from ground floor and saw that old man, coming towards the elevator. I stopped for him and we both got on. He supposed to go to 7th floor. When elevator reached at 2nd floor, it suddenly stopped with jerk. Lights have gone and we both scared. He hold my shoulder and asked “Kay Zala ? What happened ?”. I assured him that it seems electricity failure and “Now what ?”. Fortunately electricity came and elevator started. We both relaxed and departed with smile. This small incident has created thin, very thin bond between us.
From that day onwards, whenever he met me, we used to exchange short smile and informal conversations. I used to call him Uncle. Once I was on my scooter, I saw him, walking on pavement under heat. I stopped my scooter and offered him lift. He gladly accepted and we reached home. At parking lot, he told me that he has been to market and it was very Crowded as entire Mumbai. I was just listening his perspective on Mumbai. He told me that Mumbai has more people, more vehicles, more building, more shops than forty years ago. Mumbai has grown 5 fold in last forty years but infrastructure has remained the same. Mumbai has grown but not developed. There is difference between growing and developing. Plant grows, while child develops his/her mental skills during education process. Growth is outcome of natural consequences, while development is planned effort to grow system methodically.
In grown but not developed Mumbai, population has increased but not the system capacity. The irony is that, we as Mumbaikar can successfully plan huge festival as Ganesh Visarjan, but unable to plan comparatively small event as traffic outside Dadar railway station. Our Senior Citizens suffer most because of monstrous city growth and mismanagement of our civic system. It’s painful to see our senior citizen, struggling to climb, ruined stair cases of local railway station, compare to their counterparts at developed countries enjoying, railway stations with elevators and escalators.
Days were passing and life was getting busier and busier. Once I had very tense office day and while returning home, I was in no mood to talk to anyone. At society gate, I saw Uncle. I tried to avoid him but failed. He was in jovial mood as always. He shouted “ Hi. Warrior, how are you ! “(He used to call me warrior, as travelling in local train during peak hours is kind of War ).
I avoided answer and returned one fake, lifeless smile. He joined at elevator. He sensed my foul mood and chose to be silent. When my floor came, he just asked. “Tension Hei !!”. I nodded and closed the elevator door.
Some relations can’t be explained by words. They are connections, we as human share with other human beings. F.eks. Someone hold exit door for you, when both of your hands are full with shopping bags, or someone exchange railway berth for you so that you can be closer to your wife. We don’t tend to remember these small helps we receive from stranger, but it plays major role in making this world more human and nice. Small but significant Uncle’s gesture has eased my office stress a bit.
Since last few days, I did not see Uncle at society gate. I was not much serious about it. One day, while having dinner, my wife informed that “ The Old man, your friend (with teasing smile) , living in 723 has shifted to Malad”. I stopped eating for a while. Uncle has gone. That old man, who has occupied very small place in my conscious, has gone. God bless him and I resumed my dinner.
Few days after, I saw him from distant at Society ground, waving hand at me. I walked towards him and he walked towards me. We met at mid way. He told me that his son has purchased bigger apartment and they have shifted. He came to complete certain society financial procedure. I wished him best of luck and we departed. As he turned around, I felt like asking something and I shouted “UNCLE, what’s your name ?” He turned back and said “Sawant..Prafull Sawant”. I smiled .. .”Good bye Sawant uncle”..
Some relations don’t fall in any kind of categorization. They are just human to human connections. These relations are just formed accidently. Sometimes they grow and take shape of friendship and sometimes they just vanish.. disappear without leaving trace.
It’s like two strange passengers, build sort of trust relationship during journey and as journey ends, they depart as stranger as before. My relation with Uncle was something like that, but it was fun.
By Vadan Mehta
Fortunately my bedroom window is not blocked by any skyscraper. It gives me view of entire society and connecting pathway. My window is gateway for me to observe my surrounding life activities. I like to watch running children to catch the school bus, rushing office executives, milkman pedalling his loaded cycle, relaxing security guards, crooked crows, anxious pigeons etc.
Accidently I have noticed an old gentleman in late seventies, mostly in jovial mood, greeting people, gossiping with security guards, humming songs sometimes, plucking the flowers etc. In our country, where mostly old age is considered only for Bhakti & Bajaans, this kind jovial senior citizen is hardly seen. I didn’t know this guy personally but it has some sort of impression in my memory.
One day I was taking elevator from ground floor and saw that old man, coming towards the elevator. I stopped for him and we both got on. He supposed to go to 7th floor. When elevator reached at 2nd floor, it suddenly stopped with jerk. Lights have gone and we both scared. He hold my shoulder and asked “Kay Zala ? What happened ?”. I assured him that it seems electricity failure and “Now what ?”. Fortunately electricity came and elevator started. We both relaxed and departed with smile. This small incident has created thin, very thin bond between us.
From that day onwards, whenever he met me, we used to exchange short smile and informal conversations. I used to call him Uncle. Once I was on my scooter, I saw him, walking on pavement under heat. I stopped my scooter and offered him lift. He gladly accepted and we reached home. At parking lot, he told me that he has been to market and it was very Crowded as entire Mumbai. I was just listening his perspective on Mumbai. He told me that Mumbai has more people, more vehicles, more building, more shops than forty years ago. Mumbai has grown 5 fold in last forty years but infrastructure has remained the same. Mumbai has grown but not developed. There is difference between growing and developing. Plant grows, while child develops his/her mental skills during education process. Growth is outcome of natural consequences, while development is planned effort to grow system methodically.
In grown but not developed Mumbai, population has increased but not the system capacity. The irony is that, we as Mumbaikar can successfully plan huge festival as Ganesh Visarjan, but unable to plan comparatively small event as traffic outside Dadar railway station. Our Senior Citizens suffer most because of monstrous city growth and mismanagement of our civic system. It’s painful to see our senior citizen, struggling to climb, ruined stair cases of local railway station, compare to their counterparts at developed countries enjoying, railway stations with elevators and escalators.
Days were passing and life was getting busier and busier. Once I had very tense office day and while returning home, I was in no mood to talk to anyone. At society gate, I saw Uncle. I tried to avoid him but failed. He was in jovial mood as always. He shouted “ Hi. Warrior, how are you ! “(He used to call me warrior, as travelling in local train during peak hours is kind of War ).
I avoided answer and returned one fake, lifeless smile. He joined at elevator. He sensed my foul mood and chose to be silent. When my floor came, he just asked. “Tension Hei !!”. I nodded and closed the elevator door.
Some relations can’t be explained by words. They are connections, we as human share with other human beings. F.eks. Someone hold exit door for you, when both of your hands are full with shopping bags, or someone exchange railway berth for you so that you can be closer to your wife. We don’t tend to remember these small helps we receive from stranger, but it plays major role in making this world more human and nice. Small but significant Uncle’s gesture has eased my office stress a bit.
Since last few days, I did not see Uncle at society gate. I was not much serious about it. One day, while having dinner, my wife informed that “ The Old man, your friend (with teasing smile) , living in 723 has shifted to Malad”. I stopped eating for a while. Uncle has gone. That old man, who has occupied very small place in my conscious, has gone. God bless him and I resumed my dinner.
Few days after, I saw him from distant at Society ground, waving hand at me. I walked towards him and he walked towards me. We met at mid way. He told me that his son has purchased bigger apartment and they have shifted. He came to complete certain society financial procedure. I wished him best of luck and we departed. As he turned around, I felt like asking something and I shouted “UNCLE, what’s your name ?” He turned back and said “Sawant..Prafull Sawant”. I smiled .. .”Good bye Sawant uncle”..
Some relations don’t fall in any kind of categorization. They are just human to human connections. These relations are just formed accidently. Sometimes they grow and take shape of friendship and sometimes they just vanish.. disappear without leaving trace.
It’s like two strange passengers, build sort of trust relationship during journey and as journey ends, they depart as stranger as before. My relation with Uncle was something like that, but it was fun.
By Vadan Mehta
Darvin : The Stray Dog
This article is purely based on my personal experience. It’s about my relation with a stray dog, namely Darvin.
On the way to my office, at early morning, I saw one puppy,, stray puppy at gate of our society. Mostly stray puppies at his age, be with their stray mothers. But this puppy, was alone, and ragged by other big dogs, considering him as future threat to their established empire. I halted for a moment. For office-going mumbaikar, as I am, halting while going to office is a crime. We are so much tuned to our daily train and bus schedule that halting, while going to office is like destruction of our life schedule. Value of a minute as we count “ If I will miss 7.45 bus, then I miss corresponding 8.15 trains, and then miss 9.12 worli bus” But affected by cry of small puppy, I ignored all the mental cries of missing schedule and halted to help him. I pushed away big dogs and gave him a ParleG biscuit. Till he ate the biscuit, I waited to assure that he is not annoyed again. Then he hide under parked old car, which was considered safe for him. I got back to my daily life and rushed to office. I asked security guard about his mother. He said, she is dead and out of 4, only one of her puppies has survived.
While travelling back to home, that puppy had sort of impression on my mind. I was thinking that how he will survive in this hostile world without any protection ! I have no doubt that I am not going adopt him. Busy life of Mumbai and small flats do not allow us to pet a dog.
I could not wash him from my thought process. Then I remembered Charles Darwin’s SURVIVAL FOR FITTEST theory. Theory argues that species with useful adaptations to the environment are more likely to survive than are those with less useful adaptations. This theory is true for individuals, companies, countries and entire species. Only those company will survive, who has ability grasp and absorb, the ever changing business environment and same is true for individuals also. Based on Darwins’ survival theory, Will that Puppy will survive or not ! Will he able to adapt this hostile world ! To add some zest in my mundane life, I started project, to supervise that puppy’s survival story and named him Darvin with V, not W.
Next morning, I noticed that Darvin, has formed his home, beneath society security guard’s chair. It was very smart move because, by fear of security guard’s stick, no big doges dared to come close to him. Darvin also used his puppy charm to win the goodwill of security guards. He used to wag his tail while seeing security guard, lick his boots, rolling over etc. and in return, he used get protection and occasional food from them. Given the situation, Darvin has understood that, first rule of survival is 1) Be near to strongest at any cost for security. When you are close to strongest, you also seemed as stronger, thwarting the threat.
As not all days are sunny days. Darvin experienced such as proverbial rainy days, when his guardian security guard was on leave and he left alone to confront hostile surrounding dogs. Darvin managed those days quite nicely. Whenever big dog came near to him for whatever reason, he used to cry loudly. His hoarse scream used to attract attention of many passing by residents. They used to trust Puppy’s cry and pushed those big dogs away from him. Some of them used to caress him in sympathy and offer food. God is such an architecture and designed us, very cleverly. He has given special skill of crying, screaming to child/babies who have not learnt to express their feeling in words. Thus by shrilling cry, they can get elder’s attention. As any child, Darvin used his god given skill to protect himself. So second rule for survival: 2) Understand the power of natural skill and Use them efficiently.
Days and Months passed and Dravin kept growing and became an adult dog with hairy tail. Finally he won his battle and survived.
My project was over. But something new happened. I used to give him biscuits daily and unknowingly developed special relationship. One evening, I was seating on our club house garden, reading a book. Darvin came and he gently put his face on my lap !! I started caressing his forehead and he slept. It was kind of strange feeling for me, to caress a stray dog in society garden, but I continued …
Each morning, while going to office, Darvin used to run behind my scooter till he can. It was very fun and I liked it. I never forgot to feed him biscuits, even on days when I was sick and could hardly walk. Whenever I went out of station, due to official or personal reasons, I made sure that security guard on duty, feed him biscuits. This happened for 2 years, till one day !!
That morning I could not find Darvin, where he supposed to wait for me, wagging his tail. I did not had much time and I went office. He was missing at evening also. It was disturbing. I asked security guard but he was not aware ! Next morning again, I could not found him. I searched our parking area, he was not there. Where is Darvin !! Where has he suddenly gone !! At office, I could not concentrate on my work. That evening, I came home early, and searched Darvin with all my might. At parking area, under the cars, neighboring societies and their parking areas, at corners, below chairs, above water tank, garden, nearby gardens, whatever place I can imagine, I searched, but he was simply disappeared.
That night, Darvin’s wagging tail, his running behind my scooter, lighting of his eyes when he saw me, small crying puppy… all the images have flashed and keep flushing my mind.. I could not sleep. I have started attending this dog as, project to understand his survival battle but never knew when this project has turned into emotional attachment. When I have started liking him and his absence in my life, has started giving me Pain !!! Why I was feeling so restless to find him ! Why I was feeling desire to see him once again, feed him, .. !! I felt something wet at the corner of my eye.. We call it a tear…Tear appeared from the eye corner, and finally rolled down my cheek.. I touched it.. and smiled.. .” a tear for a dog … a stray dog !!!..”
And I slept..
Written By
Vadan Mehta
Bomb Blast in My House
Around 8.30 PM in the night, my wife has received call from her sister, living at Bhopal. I assumed must be regular chit-chat call, but intent of the caller was different. She asking about our well being. My wife replied that “yes, everything is fine”, considering rains in the city. But my sister-in-law was asking about something else, Bomb blasts at south Mumbai.
My wife drew our attention to the blasts. We switched the TV channel from ‘ Tarak Metha ka Ulta Chasma ’ (comedy) to news channels. All the news channels were energetically as ever, screaming about bomb blasts.
Personally I have become insensitive to terrorist attacks. After seeing 1991 Mumbai serial blasts, 2007 train bomb blasts, 2009 Taj attack and other numerous blasts at various places in the country, bomb blasts do not emotionalize me as it was few years ago. I have accepted as part of my destiny as Indian. I was just interested in knowing the places of blasts and what new methods, terrorists have innovated to scare us. The blast places were Zaveri Bazar, Dadar Kabutar Khana and Opera House. I stay at Borivali (area quite far from blast locations) and my family members were with me, so I did not had much to fear and as insensitive as I was, watching the news without any emotions or attachment.
Suddenly a thought bolted me. My unmarried uncle is staying at Sukh Sagar, place very close to Opera house, one of the blast location. Now my attachment to blasts has changed from informal to personal. I dialled my uncle’s cell phone and it was out of coverage. I tried his residence landline number and it was unanswered. I made numerous attempts to call but he could not be contacted.
News channels’ horrific images of bomb blast sites and my uncle’s disconnectedness, made me very jittery. A person who was aloof about the happening few moments ago, now became a victim himself. I started getting all kind of thoughts about the situation.
“ What fun these terrorists is having by bombing us.. !! Our law is very soft and that’s why these rascals are fearlessly bombing us !! Look at Kasab, he is still living...If i became Prime minister, i will catch these terrorists and kill them exactly in same way... tie them to bomb and blast them at Opera house, exact location they have planted the bomb.. and let it be live on TV so that other aspire to-be terrorists do not dare to bomb us..
We all know that Pakistan is behind the blasts..Our government has done till date is go to US and cry about Pakistan.. US gave us ONLY consolation.. US and China are behind Pak and that’s why they dare to help terrorists. Pak could not defeat us in military war so started this kind of proxy war. We are helpless.. We have to just suffer.. OR We should nuke Pakistan, let them also nuck us.. Once for all let finish the problem.
Why uncle’s cell phone is not reachable.. may be battery is discharged or network is jammed.. These cell phone companies should be fined heavily for not providing service when man needs the most. They should be penalised for their behaviour..
But what about land line.. It is ringing but no one is picking up !!! Where the hell Uncle has gone ! Must be gone to see the wreckage of bomb blast.. Does he has any sense to call me to ensure he is fine.. !! What If something would have happened to him ? “ etc.
Engulfed in all sort of negative thoughts, I called his nearest friend. His friend told me that he has not met him since a week. It was nearly 10.30 PM and had been an hour since I was trying to contact him. I decided to visit his house at opera house to check about him.
I tried final time on his cell and luckily I got through. I poured my anger on him when he received the call.
Me: Hello, Kaka (uncle) where are you ! We all are worried..
Uncle: I am fine...
Me: Have you heard about Opera house bomb blast.. ! Can’t you call us ! We are trying to call since an hour.. !
Uncle: Ya,, I have heard.. I am at Lonawala, enjoying our association party..
Me: you are lonawala.. Oh... Enjoy.
I disconnected the line and was relieved that he is fine. Only pain left, was Why he has not invited me to Lonawala. Having warm cup of tea with panner pakoda, in Lonawala’s misty monsoon is like, heaven.
All my previous thoughts about terrorism has been washed out.I switched back TV channel from News to my favourite comedy serial ‘FIR’. I forgot all my worries, pains, deaths, wounds and engrossed completely in FIR’s comedy.
That’s the way I fight against terrorism.
regds
vadan
Thursday 11 August 2011
SECOND SHOCK !
She was shocked. Her dream was shattered. All her prayers, mannats have gone in vain. She was disheartened that her prayers have not attended by her God. She was not able to digest the fact that she can’t change her destiny and had to live with. She had to live with that disturbing truth her entire life. She kept asking her God again and again, why her dream has failed, what was her mistake? Why ? But her God had many more things to do, other than just answering her stupid queries. She had started losing trust on her God, she had worshipped her entire life. And she had not gained the desired fruit of that loyalty.
Sushilla’s daughter Monica had given birth to second baby girl. Mother and child were healthy and fine, but Monica’s In-laws and her mother were deeply shocked. They have done all poojas and mannats to get a BOY, but Monica gave birth to a GIRL. This was the reason for shock. The feeling of shock has aggravated as she was the second daughter. They were quite confident this time, that it’s going to be Boy, as all their relatives, pundits, astrologers have indicated the same. But God had another plan and Monica gave birth to a baby girl, shattering their dream and desire.
Today Sushila was on her way to grocery store to buy food-items for child’s naming ceremony. If it would have been boy this function would have been lavish, but with girl child, naming ceremony has reduced to a formality. While walking on the pavement, Sushilla was lamenting on her bad luck and ruthlessness of her God. Sushilla has committed long list of commitments to the God, if Monica births a boy, as Yatra to Tirupati, 1001 laddus prasadam to Siddnivinayak, Sweat distributions in nearby slum, etc.. but all these have no value now. God was not interested in her briberyJ
Sushilla reached to the store and purchased necessary goods, with least amount of interest. Being part of literate, urbanized, modern family, Sushilla can’t publically show her unhappiness over 2nd baby girl, and thus it was kind of muted, but attitudinal displeasure rather than spoken one. Sushila was not very enthusiastic to speak about new born child to her relatives. Her relatives, like her, reacted more or less same way as Sushila, upon hearing the news... unhappy and consolatory ...
Lost in thoughts, Sushilla crossed the main road, without noticing car horns and traffic signal. There were others walking with her on pavement also, but Sun was blazing hard especially on her. She turned to the Society lane and was spotted by Mrs.Shetty. Mrs.Shetty asked about Monica and Sushila has to inform her about birth of girl child. Hearing this, Mrs.Shetty smirked with avenge-full gaze to Sushilla. Sushilla had reacted same manner, when Mrs.Shetty’s daughter had given birth to second girl chid. This sort of family rivalry has been continued since long time between them. This time it was Sushila’s downturn and which was unbearable to her.
The Indian urban middle class has quite modernized itself during last decade and especially after economic liberalization of 90s. They are benefitting from 8% economic growth, and adapted western lifestyle to certain level. Jeans wearing daughter or daughter-in-law is common sight and so does, their love for English language. But sometimes, this middle class is confused between new thought-process; its new modern lifestyle has to offer and old traditional values, germinated deep into their psyche. Whenever both clashes, creates confusion. Sushiila is going though that confusion.
Sushila could not understand why the hell she was feeling sad, when she suppose to feel happy and joy !!! She could not understand why she welcoming her new family member with such disgrace ? Why so negativity about girl child and what about dignity of woman !!
The origin of Sushila’s negativity of girl child is residing, in century old Indian patriarchal tradition. As per Taliban way of thinking ‘woman is like beautiful rose and should be protected’. Our ancestors were having similar line of thoughts and as result, this beautiful rose, was pushed inside the house and deprived from education or any sort of vocational training. Woman restricted to manage household and Man suppose to bread earner of the family. As consequences Man’s market value increased because as says he who pays the piper calls the tune, this world became Man’s world and un-earning woman became so called burden, especially in our societies.
CUT to 2011, Sushilla, a semi-modern grand-mother, living in Mumbai’s sub-urban area Malad’s Cosmo society, does not believe completely in girl as burden, but still traces of old mentality is found in her psyche. Even she agrees in girl education and woman empowerment, belief is strong that, one boy per family is MUST to carry the family name forward. An ideal family for her is couple, with two children,(a boy and a boy or girl). Monica’s second daughter has shattered her thoughts for ideal family. She wasn’t that sad when Monica gave birth to first daughter, but with second one, she was quite upset. How Monica is going to raise, protect and marry her two girls, kept her worrying. Confused Sushilla kept consoling herself and gave examples of Sonia Gandhis and Chanda Kochhars(ICICI Chief) to convince herself that in this flat world, girls are also achiever, but century-old programming of mental thoughts were not letting her do so.
At Society gate, Sushila met Mrs. Janki Patel, a friend. She knew that Janki had terrible knee problem and she is awaiting her daughter for medical check-up. Janki had 4 sons and single daughter. All of her sons area settled in US and only daughter is in Mumbai. Her daughter has refused to settle in US, as she was not willing to leave her ailing mother alone in India. She was married and living very close by. Sushilla was listening to Janki’s story silently.
Janki’s daughter arrived in the car. She helped Janki to get into the car and they drove for medical check up. Sushilla kept watching her car, till it disappeared in the web of traffic. While watching all these activities, something strange started happening into Sushilla.. A magic.
Sushila felt like curtains have removed and sun shine has entered into the room. She started feeling energetic and happy. Her century old beliefs are being eradicated and new fresh thought’s seeds are being germinated into her mind. She remembered how she has helped her parents and ln-laws, exactly the way Janki’s daughter. She felt proud about how Monica has managed her professional carrier and personal responsibilities. She remembered all the sacrifices, she has made for her the family. Her dignity as woman, has started unleashing. She started feeling refreshed and energetic, like never before. First time in her life, she has realized her true potential and now she will not let it die.
Sushila reached home. She hurriedly went to new girl child and carried her. She embraced her to the chest and said “I am sorry”. Now there will be lavish naming ceremony.......
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