Posts Tagged ‘death’
African Issue: Yes, there is racism, but this is not racism
The issue of African national getting beaten to death in Delhi, has hampered India’s diplomatic relations with said nations. This has been taken up heavily by Indian media and has been called spate of racist attacks. Indians who have always been on the receiving end of racism worldwide, don’t know how to react. Over the years we have called all white people racist, now what do we do? Most are rejecting the charge; some in opposition are blaming the Govt as usual. So what is it? Are is this racism or is it not? Are we racist or are we not?
Well, the answer lies in the question itself. Yes we are racist, but no current issue is not racism. Indians are born racist. North Indians make fun of color, accent of South Indians. South Indians make fun of North Indians brutish eating and drinking habits. Both North Indians and South Indians make fun of Indians from North east on how they look. The list is endless. It has been engrained in us. But is making fun racist? Yes and No. No in the sense that there is not physical harm, Yes in the sense that it opens up the possibilities of physical harm.
For those who know Delhi, the issue of African nationals is not racism. It is much different. The issue can be attributed to the law and order situation in Delhi. At the risk of being lambasted by PC brigade, let me lay out some facts. A lot of African students study in Delhi University. Most of them live as paying guest or on rent across Delhi. By and large, things are good. So what went wrong?
The issues lie with Delhi Police. There is a big drug racket in Delhi. Handful of African nationals are involved (mostly as drug peddlers). It is an open secret from a number of years. When locals complain to local police, what do the police do? They do nothing. They don’t even register a case. Let alone jail or deportation. Off the record this is what police say, registering a case against foreign national is not that easy. Lots of permissions, lots of follow up. And then there is pressure from ministry that arrest and deportation too harms the potential students and bilateral relations. End result is that the culprits are left with just a warning. And they continue the business unabated.
It’s not just that. When common people try to stop them forcefully, they are lambasted as racist. Which is what happened couple of years back in Malviya Nagar. This roots the hatred against African nationals. Over the years, police apathy and inaction has fueled this anger. Had action been taken against handful of drug peddlers earlier, there would have been no bad blood.
Common people know that police will do nothing. They know if they try to stop such things by force, whole national media will label them racist. So they do nothing but the hatred swells inside. People who don’t live in Delhi, have no right to judge the localites. But still everyone judge them.
The exact details of this case will tumble out in time to come. But some rotten apples among Indians prey on this hatred and take this to extreme level, which happened in this unfortunate incident. By and large I don’t see any more racism against Africans, than there is against South Indians / North East Indians in Delhi. But the inaction of Delhi police and lack of directions from Govt has blown up a simple law and order issue to hatred against African nationals in general.
The resolution is simple. Police need to take action against African nationals found involved in drug trade (there are only handful, and police know them). And also take strictest action against the perpetrators of the murder of the innocent Congolese youth in the current case. You know what, neither of the two will happen.
The moment
I remember that moment to this day. Like it has etched itself in my memory with some permanent ink.
The moment I felt more alive than I ever have. The moment I felt no need for an answer to my existence. The moment I felt my soul. The moment I found myself with the singularity. The moment surroundings became dimensionless and I found my direction.
The moment the struggle seized to exist. The moment all efforts seemed futile. The moment I was nowhere and I was everywhere. The moment I was the God and I was the worshipper. The moment the sun shined the brightest. The moment the night was the darkest.
The moment I was supreme. The moment I was helpless. The moment I was filled with emotions. The moment I was zombie. The moment I was content. The moment I desired. The moment I knew everyone. The moment all were strangers.
The moment I enjoyed the pleasures of heaven. The moment I burnt in hell. The moment I held my head high. The moment I hung my head in shame. The moment I was way ahead. The moment I was the last. The moment of agreement. The moment of discontent. The moment I wanted to die. The moment I wanted to live.
The moment of bereavement. The moment of happiness. The moment of enlightenment. The moment of bewilderment. The moment of sanity. The moment of insane. The moment of extreme love. The moment of worst hatred. The moment I wished never ended. The moment I begged seized to exist.
It was the moment I died.
Death Crowd
In the middle of the night,
I had a dream,
Out went the light,
I could just scream.
Faint images I remember,
Amidst the fog, couldn’t see long,
Looked like winter of December,
Didn’t hear the chirpy song.
Half dig graves, dead all around,
No one mourn, no one stop,
The path I walked, didn’t seem ground,
So many crowds, silence pin drop.
Beads of sweat, landscape change,
Dead stood up, then burnt to ash,
Couldn’t fathom it, am I derange?
The thing I smoked, was it hash?
Itching inside, burning sensation,
Lots of air, short of breath,
Blood splurge, eyes burst open,
Elements destroyed, taken by death.
Deafening sounds, I cannot bear,
Not from outside, from within,
The sanity says, I am here,
Oracle says, pay for your sin.
Setting changes to serene, lush green,
Through the barren, life break out,
Just then I wake up, cells clean,
All that sticks with me, Death Crowd.
Anna you betrayed us
Amidst the chant of “Bharat Mata ki Jai”, the atmosphere was all charged up. Patriotism was in vogue again. A huge crowd had gathered at the ground while million more stuck to their TV screens. All were living a force-fed dream. A dream of corruption free India. A dream that we can make a difference. A dream that we do matter.
We saw rebirth of a frail, thin leader. A fighter without arms. Not the demand for food, but the refusal of it shook the very foundations of the legislative of the biggest democracy of the world. We all stood in unison, we did what he said, and we followed wherever led.
As the days passed. One…Two…Three, the pressure started mounting. The health started deteriorating. People were anxious, government was worried. Not for his health but for the backlash, if something happened. More so coz the ideology of party in power was based on fast-unto-death. There seemed no way out.
Some back room negotiations ensued. A tainted ex-CM from financial capital was rushed to Delhi. Anna you agreed. Having been betrayed by Govt., time and again, you still acceded to the letter and promises as if you were just waiting to pounce upon. It’s tough for me to say, but Anna it would have been better if you had withered sitting on the fast. Alas! somewhere down the line, your fast-unto-death became wolf cries.
The corrupt politicians unclothed you in front of public. The cheer-haran was painful. I ask Why? Why did you fool us into disbelief if you were not ready to go the distance? I know it’s tough to give one’s life and I for one cannot. But why did you make false promises?
Your movement is in tatters. Our belief stands shaken. You sided with the limelight hungry, self proclaimed Guru to get the zing back into your campaign, but I am scared now. Scared to be betrayed again. Scared that I will be left again in the midst to fend myself off.
It would be tough for me to believe in another Anna. So long Hazare!
हुआ मनुष्य लाचार क्यों आखिर
डरता हूँ मैं, डरता क्यों हूँ?
हर पल मैं आखिर मरता क्यों हूँ?
ऐसी कौन सी गली मैं मुडा,
राह सभी बे-राह हुई जो|
पीता जब हूँ, रब दिखता है,
परदे के पीछे सब दिखता है,
काल-चक्र का उल्टा चलता,
सभी सफलता, लगी विफलता|
डर-डर के जीवन, जीता हूँ में,
गम का सागर पीता हूँ में,
इस माहौल में और नहीं अब,
“एक दिन आएगा”, आएगा कब?
रो-रो के जीवन, जहन न होती,
दर-दर की ठोकर, सहन न होती,
हूँ मैं बेबस, जज्बात लदे हैं,
कुछ कर जाता, हाथ बंधे हैं|
हुआ ये कैसे, मनुष्य लाचार
मुझे पता ना, पता है तुमको?
Same Same but Different
Last night I had this amazing dream. I woke up at night with lights flashing all over. A man with big mustache and vintage golden dress was standing tall, over me, and laughing loud. “Wake up, you lazy bugger, Wake up”. Sleepy and startled, my first reaction was to blame it on the overdose of Vodka that night. But soon the gravity of the situation or can I say the lack of it dawned on me. Aaj toh lag gayi Mamu!
He told me I was dead. Died of a certain Gastropathic attack. Gas! Couldn’t it have been something legendary? Like being attacked by flying dragons while jumping of a plane which collided with a UFO. Leave it. I died of Gas alright.
Here I was, one moment trying to realize my dreams, my future and the very next facing the shock of my demise. My whole life flashed before my eyes. Family, Friends, Future. What now? I begged, pleaded with my soul transporter. Let me live to make things work, make things right.
It’s hard to say that it was my lucky day, given that I just died. But he took pity to me which clearly didn’t seem to match his M.O. “There’s one condition though”, said he. “Here it comes” “Give me a reason to let You live. Hey it’s easy, “I have so much left to do in my life. Get married. Make a career. Have kids”. He gave me a smile. “You don’t seem to get my question. Why should I let You and not some other person, live”
I was just an answer away. Given that I have been writing exams all my life, it shouldn’t have been that difficult. But believe you me, however hard I tried, I couldn’t get an answer.
Have you ever thought? Trying to make a mark in life, a place for ourselves, we have ended up being clones of each other. Lost that very individuality that we have been craving for, fighting for. When I look outside my apartment all I see is blinking stars. Only they are not stars, they are other apartments. We are all boxed up. All flats look same. All work looks same. All roads look same. All blokes look same. How is my life any different to my fellow men?
Well, it only seems logical that we all be same. The funda of evolution revolves around learning and surviving. We learn from others, grab the best of all and apply to our lives. Thereby becoming a hybrid.
With the advent of cut throat competition, this cloning process has only hastened. Don’t you remember your mother/wife saying, “Pados waale Sharma ji jo TV laaye hain humein bhi wohi chaiye” Or a kid crying that he wants the new Play station which his friends have. You covet other mans wife, car, house, life.
If we look at it the other way round, “What’s the problem in being clones” After all we are all born humans. Same at birth. Same creator. Same creation. Why is the need to be different? Just that it doesn’t seem all that right to be part of a monotonous system. It just seem what can I say, unnatural.
The similarity doesn’t end with the lives we tread; it follows us to our grave. However hard we have tried to make our post-death ceremonies different, the truth is, after a certain point, nothing but dust remains.
Anyhow, I was not able to answer the question of the big mustached guy. Good that it was just a dream. Am not sure what I had done for real. Not even sure I really do care to be all that distinctive. I might try now and then, something out of the blue to be different. Might also be successful at that for a while. Till someone decides to catch up and steal my thunder of course.
