Saturday, September 29, 2007

A Man's Story

It was just another morning. Or may be the same morning repeated over and over again. He would stand by the iron wall facing the sun and wonder what’s the difference? His world was limited by a hexagonal structure surrounded by fences of 12 feet high. He never tried to scramble them, in fact he never thought of doing so. His life is now a repetitive loop with a period of 24hours-aday. How big difference is there between a day then and a day now, he would think. He knows white very well. A special bond all share is a brotherhood of white. All inmates wear white, he too. The only thing he loves about this place is equality. He had spent 32 years of his life here, day and night. Not for a single moment he had seen the outside world. But today at the age of 64 he is going out. Nothing much left out to live for.
You are always innocent of the crime you have not committed, that’s the ideal rule. Not always. He had pleaded, cried, screamed at the ears which had gone deaf to justice. But that does not make sense anymore. He is now accustomed to a routine, wake up at 5:30 AM sharp, stand in a queue to lavatory. Hurry to take bath and get ready by 7:00 Am for break fast, a mug of hot (Only when it was prepared, not when it was served) tea, 2 pieces of bread. Get your part of work assigned and follow the go-work-struggle to rest- work-comeback chain. Have lunch at sharp 1:00 and follow the chain again. Work till 5:00 come back. Have rest and finish your supper by 7:00 and go to bed. Lights go off at 10:00. He was accustomed to a slow, monotone of life. He has not heard anything beautiful as he had not heard a sonnet being played or a note of music at its crescendo. Anything beautiful can’t be expressed in words, beauty must rhyme, and beauty must reoccur and beauty must be poetic and lyrical. The jail was the place many later found to be more convenient, no need to fight changes for they never occur, a simple routine life and no worries of outside world. You get your share of bread at the end of the day, and living in uniformity as being ruled by communists. But his case was different, he did not belong to this place, he was out of sync. Not because he can’t survive with same routine food and white clothes for years but because he did not share the most fundamental cord of committing a crime. He knew he was innocent. With this remote hope of justice he struggled and learned to survive which almost extinguished the day after he spent the first day there.
Now he is free. After 32 years he will see the outer world. His eye sight is not coping with his desires and taken the side of old age. He would not resist anything that is louder, he has been silent for years. Any sound other than human voice is a song for him. He would walk clumsily on the road. A lot has changed; he does not really recall the way to home. He hardly recognizes the movie starts on the posters. He would hardly believe that the place which had hand pulled rickshaw stand is now some auto rickshaw stand. He can’t believe the ten storey buildings on his left. He could not even recognize the outer wall of the jail where he had spent 32 years.
People have changed; his house is now no more than a dump yard at the midst of a society as they call it. Everything now seems faster than him. The number of vehicles has significantly out numbered the number of men. It was hard for him to cope with the life, the run, the pace. He tried working at few places to earn his living but nothing would work out for him. Hope is a good thing and he had it. He some how knew he can’t make it any more in the outside world. Now it must end. His life must end. But he was not the kind to commit suicide. What else? He can’t take it anymore living like a cast away. He took refuge in alcohol and just lived waiting for the end. But some other day he was no more. People started to gather outside his dump yard. He committed suicide or he went for salvation. But he is now free. He had chosen this freedom as he could not bear the pain of sudden social freedom. Like a bird can’t fly after a year of imprisonment. A man can’t live after a life term sentence. He escaped; he rejoiced and enjoyed the pain of dieing more than the pleasure of living.

Truly
Abinash

Thursday, September 20, 2007

The agony of the ecstatic face - 3rd 69th word post

And my apparent vulnerability does not go unnoticed. They approach, pretentiously amicable and selflessly selfish. They come closer with that poisonous touch and I stay indifferent as usual. They suck my blood out and I reciprocate with my silent pain gulped. I fight with my self, I fight with my thoughs. The exploitation becomes unbearable and I call it quit, how long? How long? No more. No more.

Truly
Abinash.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

The 'C' factor of typical India

The other day I was thinking about what are so common in India and Indians. And I found most of the things have this ‘C’ factor. So I will juxtapose all these strikingly unrelated yet the most commonly accepted C factors here.
1. Cricket, 2. Corruption, 3. Cinema

CRICKET :
Cricket is a house hold name here in India from the poorest to the richest are love in it.
Its arguably the only performing game in India. The early morning you wake up and go for a walk its not normal scene that you find people of all age group ranging from 8 to 35 dressed in white are up on the wheel with there kit bags or at least a bat dangling on the back, ride to the stadiums, fields and clubs. These are the upper class and some times middle class ‘cricketism’ in India. Now the lower middle class version of the same spirit is a different scene. It would be in the evening that all these guys would assemble at an public ground, the first few minutes are spared to find a place to start, its India one man can be a place holder for hundreds the only thing you need to do is to shout, its booked they are coming or just put your wickets are stand by it. Then one by one the whole gang arrives none in white, some come directly in school uniform so only those would flaunt their white shirts. They dream more about Ranji matches and local cricket heroes, then the Indian team. One padded bats man with more cycle tubes as the handle grip for their bat with worn gloves is quite a common scene. With the approaching darkness they rush directly to the Coaching classes or to join other house hold work no time to discuss or learn, what they call practice is more of a pass time and a struggle to learn.
Now the slum version is again strikingly different. Their boys mostly below 12 year play it and keep the tempo high. Their people play it with naked body and bare foot, just a half pant or even a towel does the trick. They don’t care about bats, pads, kit, gloves in that case the white track suit seems a remote possibility. They don’t mind even the roads, called ‘guly cricket’ and some times the drain side cemented space. And yeah they don’t have nay specific time like morning or evening as most of they have no routine.
In India Cricket seems to be the only high status game with a true Indian touch and flexibility. It has many forms, versions and space to accommodate people from any class and social standard. In a country like India with such a diversified society where the standard of living varies from BPL to Millionaires and each group claims a good chunk of the whole mass its true that we need at least on game like cricket which is like democracy, for all. By the people, of the people and for the people. May be that’s why cricket continues to be the most popular game.

Corruption:

‘Corruption’ is an integral part of India and Indian. Every layer defines a new corrupt system of its own. From the government to public sector, even private sectors. But if we take a closer look and try to define corruption then, we can find the true reason. Corruption is a way of self centered thing to betray the moral code to get some materialistic possessions. Now by materialistic I mean the power too. It’s a corrupt system from top to bottom. You go to a ‘Thsil’office and you know the whole blue print. The peon who is paid to set appointment timings take 20-50 rupees to give you a time before afternoon, as if you end up with a after noon timing the process will surely be prolonged to next day and possible the next next day too. The clerk then takes 50-100 rupees to give you the stamped paper. Then the Tahsil dar would take anything depends on who you are. But not directly after all he is tahsildar. So his share the lion share comes from an indirect route. Here people are not corrupt because the system is corrupt and they are a small element of whole system and being honest would possibly disintegrate them from this main stream, as they give the excuse. But its because Corruption is a part of the attitude of Indian mass. We the Indians search for easy routes, we are too lazy to up hold our dreams and work for it rather again we expect some miracle to happen which will increase our standard of living automatically. We run away from responsibility and are very good at blame game. But the principal reason is dissatisfaction and intolerance of Indians. We live in a society where the standard of living of people residing in a community varies from hell to heaven. So this induces an envy and dissatisfaction in the intolerant ones. Hence as a habit they search for a easy way and find solace in the corrupt system.
The corruption is so high now that you need to bribe cremation of you grand parents. This is another Indian C factor.

Cinema:
The grand Indian cinema. Always the Indian cinemas go over acted or get over reacted by the crowd. With cinemas produced in 14 different languages in one country targeted at people from virtually all community and social standard, Indian cinema has its own space and hype. The actors are Gods here. The music is a soul mate and the celeb news magazine are a highly circulated material. The cinema has created many categories of consumers and a different marketing field. Few cinemas which are worth watching and are well directed don’t do much business here. The movies are somuch hyped that the internation movies don’t come in line with the bollywood movies. The great success of cinema in India may be due to the linguistic clash. The south Indian denounce all Hindi movies nehce they have to excel in their own cadre and match up to the standard and the Hindi movies are a largely consumed commodity so have to be good. In this race the beneficiary is the consumer. And movies have always been a great means of mass education and moral learning In India.

Truly
Abinash

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

The I cult V/S the W cult

Two differences I found between the Indian culture and the Western culture.

1. In India urination and defecation in public is accepted but not kissing and display of affection.
There kissing and display of affection is accepted but not urination and defecation.

Which is correct?

2. In India Love ends with sex.

There love start with sex.

Which is correct?

3. In india the trend is arrange marriage where you explore each other's body first.. and only after the lust is gone may or may not you would think of exploring the soul and the philosophy you carry.

There the bodies are explored just as a matter of fun and need but never as a demand and marriage comes only when the souls are explored.

Which is correct?

Then why we always condemn teh western culture????
This is I am writing as an answer to some one's question.

Truly
Abinash