The Story of Offence

People think about me day in day out, they feel me every day, but are afraid to talk about me, if they do, they are made a pariah, but today I will talk about myself, I deserve a hearing. I am probably the most misunderstood feeling, I am felt by everybody, but everyone is scared to talk about me. People talk at length about love and the emotions which come with it, why? Because its the in thing? I say, even in love, I am the most common emotion. I have the ability to break every other feeling. And when I strike important people, I have the ability to break nations, bring about wars. I am the only one who can trigger myself everywhere, even love cannot do that, then why me, a powerful feeling is looked down upon?

In the past, people who instilled me in others, suffered. Some 2000 years ago, a guy named Jesus of the Nazerath instilled me in the people of Jerusalem, and look what happened to him. He really should have stayed shut than face the wrath of an incited mob. Further down the time, a few people who claimed themselves to be intellectuals, played their hands a bit too much and got duly punished by the Roman church. My presence in some Southerners in the USA in 19th Century, had almost led to breakup of what you call today, the superpower. It was my presence in a young Serbian student in 1914, that led to the first great war, and it was my presence in a slight, but extremely strong willed man in 1939 that led to the second great war. In the recent times, I have caused civil wars in Ireland, Yugoslavia to name a few.

However, the biggest boost in my CV comes from the Indian subcontinent. I really come out easily in people of such varied demography herded into small landmass. Even the religious texts, where even the Gods acted on my trigger, are replete with my presence. Shiva's father-in-law, on feeling me, decided not to call him for an event, and this triggered me in Shiva's wife, who felt me at such an act by her father and jumped into a pyre, and this triggered me in Shiva, who almost destroyed the world. Duryodhana on being insulted by Draupadi, and under my influence started the greatest war ever and required an immortal God to bring it to a logical end. Coming to the real world from the realm of epics, it was under my influence that some of the powerful Muslim rulers invaded and probably plundered India. It was my presence in the people at helm of affairs, that they decided to divide the country of India on religious lines. And since then, my presence and power has only increased, and documented, and sometimes even made a law.

When MF Hussain tried to make some paintings out of his artistic expression, he was reminded, by words and by actions, that I won't allow him to do this, because I was present in the people who mattered, their representation not withstanding. When Shekar Kapur made "The Bandit Queen" and Deepa Mehta made "Fire", it was I who reminded them, that I am above the law of land. If I am present in people, the law cannot protect you. Shahrukh Khan and Aamir Khan also realized this, when they did/said something to instill me in people. My presence became a law, and Aamir Khan's film faced a ban in Gujrat, while Shahrukh Khan lost  money, the law bowed to me. I also led the lesser mortals like Mumbai University VC to withdraw a book from curriculum hurting some party's sentiment. And recently, it was me who reminded two girls from Palghar, that you may not see me coming, but I am always lurking there. I achieved all this roughly through the same set of people of course. Salman Rushdie came to know of my fear, when his book "Satanic Verses" was banned without being read, first in India, and then the rest of the world, only because the leaders feared my presence in people. Already facing my wrath in Bangladesh, writer Taslima Nasrin really should have known, I traverse boundaries, for they don't stop me. She has never rested in Peace while here. Currently, I am trying to ensure that Kamal Hassan is unable to release his movie in India. The people who are doing this for me, I am sure will not be influenced by feelings like reason and freedom, my foes. Ajay Devgn and Akshay Kumar would know by now, that Sikhs do not trim their beard or sport tattoos, not even in Movies.

And it is not only religion which triggers me these days. Some people cannot see their favorite sports person being called anything but God. While others are using me in their campaign against the condom and AIDS awareness advertisements, calling them vulgar. And then there are some, in whom I show up when public transport is not on time!

Although I am basking in glory right now, with all the achievements behind me, I wish I could have been present at many more places. I really wonder why no body feels me when they see a thin man being bullied by a group on streets. No body feels me, when they see a lady being sexually harassed. And very recently, I could have had an awesome head count, had people felt me when a girl and guy lay naked on the busy streets of New Delhi, but strangely, nobody felt me! Alright, I know, I am being very demanding. I have had a successful run in the last few decades, and I should not be complaining.

A big thank you , to the people of this nation for keeping me alive.

The fickle existence

It was a hot and humid afternoon. Having had a sumptuous meal of Cannon Pav Bhaaji, the best Pav Bhaaji in Mumbai, situated at VT, I boarded the suburban train to get back home. Just as the the train was about to leave the station, a lanky lad, carrying, what looked like a huge cane bucket, huffed and puffed his way inside my compartment. I was enjoying my stay near the door, feeling in all the breeze, and trying to dry my sweat soaked shirt. This guy came and stood next to me while keeping his bucket down. The bucket contained the famous Mumbai snack, Vada pao. It smelled great, but he reeked of stink. I looked at him, he was looking at my hand, curiously, I asked him.

"What is it, that you are looking at, friend?"

"I was wondering what brand of water you hold in your hand", he said referring to the mineral water bottle in my hand

"Ohh, well this is one of the local brand, not very popular" I replied, to quench his curiosity(for the time being)

"I wonder how it tastes like" He said, still looking intently at the bottle

"You are thirsty and you need water to drink, just say it" I said, trying to talk straight.

"Well... Yes.." He said, suddenly taking his eyes of my bottle

"Here you go, take it, drink as much as you want" I offered him the bottle, along with a smile.
"Thank you sir", and he gulped down the entire content of the bottle, "Thank you again" he said wiping the water off his mouth," And sorry", looking at the empty bottle.

"No Problems" I said, not bothering to take the bottle back. Then I looked back at the delicious looking Vadas and wondered about his business model. "How much money do you make out of it, and where do you sell it?" I asked him inquisitively.

"I sell these Vadas to a Sweet shop in Kurla, he pays me around Rs 3/Vada"
"Which shop?"

"The shop near Tilak nagar station, he is a nice man, treats me well, pays me on time" He smiled, this man had some honesty in his smile, I wondered.

"Well, the same guy charges me Rs 9 for the same thing you sell him for Rs 3, do you know this?" I said, trying to incite him, to break his smile, and see the other side of him.
"I very well know how popular my vadas are, but I am content with what I get, it gets me a profit enough"
He said, seeing my perplexed reaction, he added,
"I earn around Rs 600 a day for the vadas I make for this shop, which is a profit of Rs 400 to me. Besides this, I work as a house keeping staff in a MNC which gets me Rs 10000 a month. So all in all, I earn around 20000-25000 a month. And, I have a wife, she loves me a lot, I love her a lot, and make love to her a lot..." He paused for a laugh, and I joined in his laughter. He continued " I have a kid, a nice 1BHK in Mumbai(inherited though!) . I have everything I want in life. I don't aspire for bungalow  I don't aspire for an international school for my child. I just aspire to have enough to feed my family, and be happy. I do drink with friends, I have also visited dance bars. I have done everything that makes me happy." he finally finished with a sigh.

"That was nice...hmmmm" I said, while wondering in my mind, that this guy is not ostentatious, he is working only for his family, to keep them happy, for the love of them. "Come on, lets get down, its our station" I said and got down.

I got down and started moving out of the station, without looking back, lost in thoughts, of this man who gave me a view of life I never had, always whining about what I earned, or what I did. Suddenly, I heard a big commotion behind me. I turned around and saw people crowded near the place I got down from the train. I hurried down to the place to check out what is wrong. Pushing people out of the way, I reached the spot and saw a bucket and some Vadas spilled at one corner, I glanced around, and to my fear, found the same man lying in a pool of blood from an injury to his head. "He fell off the train in the melee to get down" I heard a murmur behind me.I quickly called the Ambulance helpline and checked his pulse, it wasn't there. He was dead.

My idea of seeking solace was to relinquish every thing you have, love, family, your prized possessions and lead a life of a saint. It is there everywhere, we are mortal beings, everything we own ,everything we love, is going to part with us one day, when we die. All those who claim to have seen life, say this and even go so far as to implement it. For they claim, any mortal affection only leads to desire, and desires lead to unrest within. If we give up any desire, we end up with inner peace. This is what I believed in, until I met this man.

We always see solace and inner peace as something which cannot be achieved without a sacrifice. A sacrifice too big to be made by a normal human being. This man taught me, that solace is nothing but being content and happy in your life. Even while making ends meet, a man can be happy and content. And this will be his solace, he was happy when he died. God made humans intelligent, an intelligent being only evolves when he desires for something better, to make him happy and that is how we have had inventions and discovery, the desire and the necessity  When people talk of seeking solace through relinquishment of desires, it only implies being indifferent to happiness, and life itself. If the existence is as fickle as we know, why remain indifferent to the gift of God? Accept your fate, seek happiness within you, define what is it that will make you content, and solace will follow.

I would rather die as someone, who was loved, who loved a lot, made a lot of love and had everything which made him happy, than as a saint, who remained indifferent to the feelings, and indifferent to life.

Nascent fragility

I am born- 
Yes, I am finally born, after being inside for almost 9 months, I am finally out. This is the first time I see light, it is so bright outside. I am telling the person holding me, to cover my eyes, IT IS SO BRIGHT, I am shouting, But, why is this person smiling? 'Ouch' ,Suddenly, this person hits me hard on my bum, WHY, I shout again, And now, someone else is holding me, Oh, wait, it must be Mother, I can sense her. Now, she is crying and smiling. I keep telling her, cover my eyes, but she isn't listening to me. Wait, I can sense my own tears, is it that they don't understand my language, or is my language crying, I reckon its the latter. I sense a few more people coming in, It is my dad, I have heard his voice from inside, but he is not smiling, he is making strange faces. He puts his hand behind my back to lift me, Holds me mid-air and drops me in an instant. It hurt, and I shout at him too, DON'T LIFT ME IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE ME, but, he ignores me and goes away. I have shouted too much , I am tired now, and I doze off. I dream about a lot of brightness and light, after all, this was the first time I saw what light is!

I start crawling on my knees-
Yippee, I can move around the house by myself. My mom drops me on the floor after I wake up, and I realise that I can keep my body stable on my knees.I try moving forward, and that is it, this is the moment I had been waiting for. It was so nagging, to shout, correction, crying(yes I realised that I actually cry when I am trying to shout) , every time I wanted to move around from my place. Not anymore. The first thing I do after starting move around is reach out to my father, I haven't seen him in a long time. I see him standing in the aisle, I go up to him and tuck at his trousers. He looks down at me and makes a strange face. He moves aside, I again go up to him and tuck at his trousers. And, suddenly I am flying, My chest hurts, Did he hit me? Before I can fathom that, I hit the floor, my head is spinning, Everything I see is blurred. My whole body is in a state of pain. And this time, I actually cry. My mother lifts me, I shout at her to put me down, I want to move around, but I can't shout, my body hurts when I try to shout. Crying and shouting takes a toll on me, and I doze off. I wake up, only to look at the first face I saw when I came outside. I cry and tell her, that I still haven't forgotten the hit on my bum. But she is gentle this time, She takes me in her arms and rubs my body. I feel better now, the pain is disappearing slowly. I smile, and tell her, Apologies accepted.

I start walking around-
I know, you will call me a cry baby(talk of ironies!) if I tell you that it is boring to be crawling around, so one fine day, with tired and scrapped knees, I catch hold of the chair and try lifting myself. No, I am not always successful in my endeavors, and, I fall down. But I don't give up, Next day, I try the same stunt, and this time, I am lucky. I stand tall, everything seems so small to me. I see my milk bottle, wow, it looks so small now, I look at my mother, she is smiling, I smile back to her and tell her, very soon, I will be as tall as you. I try moving forward, but I fall, it hurt, but I am too excited to cry. I get up again and try moving forward, this time, I don't fall. I slowly start moving around the home. It is so much faster to move around like this.With each passing day, my speed of moving around increases. Each day, I make sure that I don't end up disturbing my father. One day, while my usual moving around the house, I felt a wet sensation in my bottoms, oops, I did it again, I realised later, that the timing is so terrible. I see my father standing, right across the room. He glares at me and comes to me with a great speed, wow, I want to move that fast one day. He picks me up, finally,I thought my father has picked me, finally, I will sleep in his lap, but, again go flying across, and it hurts again. He comes up to me again and raises his hand to my cheek, my cheeks are warm, and I sense something gushing out of my lips. My mom snatches me from father just before I dozed off again. When I wake up, I see the bum hitter lady again. I like her now, though. She rubs my body again, I feel warm, but all my pain doesn't go away now. She flashes a pointy thing to me, and pinches it on my arm and I doze off again.

I speak my first word-
Ok, I exaggerated this, I cant speak words, but then I can make some sounds similar to what my mom does. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but, the first word I speak, is 'Paa'. I don't know what it means, But sometime back, I heard a person, little taller than me, calling someone 'Paa' and I picked it up. I think, now, I won't have to cry when I feel like shouting. These people should now understand what I am saying. So, whenever I am angry, I say 'Paa'. Whenever I am happy, I say 'Paa'. My mother smiles every time I say 'Paa', even if I am shouting, she smiles. I think, crying was better, they don't understand their own language anymore. So, I decide to revert to my old language, but occasionally, I use their language as well. One day, I woke up when it wasn't bright yet. I sense that I wet my bottom again, and I still remember what happened, when I wet my bottoms while my father was around. I see two people around me. One of it is mother and other is my father, I can sense both of them, but which one is mother, I don't know. My bottoms feel itchy now, I want to call out my Mother, so I reach out to her and shout 'PAA'. She gets up and I hear a click and its suddenly bright again. Wait, it is not mother, it is father, whom I shouted to. He picks me up again, but I don't go flying across. But the way he has picked me, it hurts my arm. I am in his arms, till I suddenly feel breeze on my face. It is so pleasant. And again, after spending considerable(and probably the most) time in my father's arms, I go flying across. I wait for the pain to come, But I am still flying. I am enjoying this Wow, is this a dream. I feel so light, I am moving so fast. It feels great. How am I still flying? And then comes the pain, but the pain is momentary, I cannot feel my body, my vision is fading, but I see my mother rushing to me, but before she reaches me, I doze off again.

The brightness again!
I wake up, and never since my birth, has the brightness hurt me. "IT IS TOO BRIGHT", I shout out.

"You will get used to it child" a pleasant voice replies
"Ohh, so you understand my language, Who are you, and how do you speak my language, are you the person who hit my bum when I was born, but you had a different voice!" I ask, refraining from asking too many questions.
"I am your culprit, my child, I am the one who created you" the voice replies
"Where is my mother, and where is my father?" I ask inquisitively
"I am sorry, but, I won't be sending you back to them. You stay with me for sometime" He replies in the same pleasant monotone
"Promise me, that you won't send me flying across if I wet my bottoms, or shout 'PAA' from time to time" I say, trying to strike a deal
"I promise you, that, next time, I would not make you a Human"

Baby Falak in ICU

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This blog post  is dedicated to the victims of baby assaults, in particular, baby Falak and baby Tanaaz, who died from continuous and calculated brutal physical assaults on them. While you are reading this, there are babies being assaulted all over the world, for crying too much, or for being a financial burden, or due to a drunken rage and worse, for being being a GIRL.

What can be the justification for an act of assaulting someone who is so helpless that he can't even stand on his feet. What can justify the act of assaulting someone, who doesn't even know what assault is, who he is being assaulted by or why he is being assaulted. Such a crime, should not be treated as homicide due to negligence, rather, it should be treated as a murder in cold blood. I truly believe in the saying, "An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind" , but , if criminals convicted for such acts are let away with only long prison sentences and not capital punishment , then, I would rather stay in a blind world than live in world with such living demons.

Read Baby Falak news item
Read Baby Tanaaz news item

Sacrificed Innocence

"I don't think she should be hearing all this, please send her in" Mom pleaded with my Dad.
"She is a 9 year old girl, and she should know fully about the problems we face" He said, "Come out Paramita" He added in an affectionate but stern tone.

"What can it be about?" I said to myself. "Have I done something which has caused embarrassment to the family? Anindita Ma'am did not even call Dad to school this time for not standing first in rankings at school, neither have I pulled hair of my sister Mishti in a long time". Hesitant and embarrassed, I walked out into the room, having been hiding behind  the curtain and listening to the conversation between Mom and Dad all this while.

"So dear, We have been talking about some family problems here, Your elder brother has suffered a total kidney failure and our farm has not produce any good crop this year. We are in a deep financial problem. We have to arrange for a lot of money for your brother to survive or else find a donor for him" He said with a glim of tear in his eye.

"Can we not buy it from shop? I am sure Banwari would have it, he keeps a lot of things in his shop" I said trying to suggest something useful at least.
"No, we need to find a donor for this" He said in a authoritative voice.
"What is a donor, dad?" Trying hard not to sound dumb.
"Dear, a Donor is someone who can donate one of his kidney to someone who has none"
"Ohhh, then can we not give him ?" I said, trying to sound thoughtfully.
"No, one of my kidney is infected too, I can't give him mine" He said, sounding thoroughly disappointed.

And then suddenly, My Mom started crying profusely. "If we don't get a donor or money, Doctors say your brother will die in 1 month, your brother may not have much time left, pari, not much. And we can't even sell off our land, what will we give in dowry for your marriage otherwise?" and she went on crying. And then I did, what was not expected of me, being a big girl now. I started crying too. Hugging my mom, I could not stop myself from sobbing hard, I could feel the pallu of my mom getting wet from our tears. I felt a hand on my head,I looked back. it was my elder brother.

"Don't worry pari, We will manage" he said with a smile.

That is when I decided, I will find a solution to our problems, I cannot see my mother sob, I cannot see my father so tensed and I certainly cannot let my brother die.

"Dadi Maa, how old are you?" I said, in a lost tone.
"Why do you ask, you have become very ill mannered", She said in a very harsh tone
"Can you donate your kidney to my bro, he will die otherwise, please dadi, please.You are old anyway, my brother has such a long time to go". I said, pleading with all my might.
"You Moron, How dare you shorten my age? I have a long life ahead and I am proud of that. If you want your brother to live, why do you ask me? Go give your own kidney" She said, shouting loud enough for the neighbors to hear. "Girls are always waste of resources anyway, and a burden on family, had you not existed, my son wouldn't have had to worry about your dowry" she added scornfully.

Was I really the cause of all this. Is dowry the gift parents give their daughters at marriage? How do I tell them that I don't want any gift, I will marry a rich guy? Dad told me donor is someone who can give a kidney. Can I not donate my kidney? How does one donate a kidney? and what is a kidney?

"You've gone mad" My best friend Suparna exclaimed.
"But why? I think this is the only way I can help my family, Won't you like to join me? We had promised to stay together always, It won't be tough, trust me" I said, trying to sound convincing.
"Go away, Else I will tell Anindita ma'am that you are disturbing me.

My mom had once told me that when times are bad, no body helps, not even your best friends. She was right. I had always trusted Suparna, and today, instead of helping me out, she thought of complaining about me to Anindita ma'am. So many times I had lied to ma'am to save her from the scale whipping by ma'am. But I am a big girl, I can do it alone, I will handle it all alone.

All things were in place, I cross checked everything once again. As I began climbing atop the stool, I remembered something. I got down and opened my drawer. And there it was. I thought of cross checking the letter. Anindita ma'am would be upset if I commit grammatical mistakes. I began reading...

Dear Mom and Dad,
                               I am really sorry, Because of me you could not save money for buying kidney for brother. I wanted to tell you that I do not want any gift after my marriage, I will marry a rich boy, but you wouldn't listen. Hence I decided to give kidney to brother myself. I had even asked Grandmother as well, but she said, she has a long life to live and cannot give her kidney to brother. I tried to find out ways to donate kidney, but couldn't find one. I tried to use a knife and fetch it out, but I did not know where to start looking inside my body. Hence I have decided to leave it for you to decide how to do it upon me. I guess, to donate something, one needs to die first. Hence I am ending my life, so that finally I can be useful to someone. Now you won't have to worry about brother, he will live long now, like grandmother. You even won't have to worry about my dowry gift as well. Please forgive me for giving you all the troubles.
                                                                                  
                                                                                      Yours Paramita


I realized my mistake, scribbled my name and wrote it below yours. I again climbed back on the stool. More determined than ever. I saw the elliptical rope in front of me. I could see everything through it, it didn't look different. I put my neck through it.
 "Would it pain if I do it this way? Does it pain a lot when people die?"
"Ohh, c'mon, it cannot pain more than it did when i broke my finger,it was so painful"
"Yes, it will not pain more than that" 
I smiled and kicked the stool from under me. I am trying hard to breath, but i am unable to catch any air. It is becoming harder. My chest is aching now. I am trying to get back on stool and stand up, but it has fallen too far. I am unable to use my hands or leg. My whole body had gone numb, I can't feel my body..
"Mom.....Broken finger was not this painful...................................."

This is a real story of Mamphy Sarkar of West Bengal who committed suicide on July 04th, 2011 because her brother had kidney failure and father had a degrading vision. She wrote a suicide note asking her family to use her organs, however a bigger tragedy followed, the note was found by the family after they had cremated her. Her Innocence was sacrificed under the burden of the mortal troubles. This blog is a fictional account of the events, only the premise of this blog is the same, and not the entire story.

God bless her soul.

Click here to read the news item of the above girl