Powerful Vs Powerless.

Buses being burnt down; people being hit like nobody’s business; these are what our prospective future leaders are made of!

On one hand “they” upheld “Hinduism” some years ago, looked down strongly upon religious conversions, trying to protect their own ,diminutive Hindu population and then on the other, in the most ironical manner today , they are in very subtle ways dividing Hindus itself!

And all this for what ? I heard .. “party publicity” somewhere??
I am not knowing who is right or wrong ,,,all I know is that an innocent population is being targeted every time!
Everyone who wants to show his power against another some powerful persona, shows it on the powerless…,be It raj thackrey, be it Simi, be it ULFA, be it BSP…
If they had the guts why can’t they fight against the other powerful?

Brainwashing is very easy…but I never knew the innocent could be brainwashed this easily against the so called “other” innocent population, that too in the name of caste and language!

All I knew was that there were wars, riots, bloodshed, people had witnessed in the past between religions…
People who got converted into Christianity were slaughtered by Hindu fundamentalists in Orissa recently. The Muslim vs hindu power play has been going for ages now..
So there have been fights in the name of hindus Vs muslims ,,,hindus vs Christians..but this time its within Hindus itself… “Maharashtrians vs biharis” …and I’m sure there will be many more to come in the future. Thanks to our dearest politicians!
But I’m sure that “the same man” who wanted to uphold Hinduism someday with his uncle isn’t realizing what he is actually doing -dividing “his own” people into further tiny populations!(Probably he doesn’t even care. He didn’t care then ,he doesn’t care now!)

But what is sad is when a certain section of the population supports his actions …(keeping away for the moment “the man’s” highly contentious ideologies).
How could you possible support the idea of hitting people and causing unnecessary damage to show power, to win support , to acquire publicity?
It is shameful that we powerless have to put up with this each and every time!

If it is about the north being less developed resulting in trainloads of migration to “his” land….
I have just one point to make..
There are flight-loads of young Indians travelling to the west each year…
Reason: India being a less developed country (though things change only now..cause: global recession)
So if US, citing recession were to create ruckus and hit Indians, burn buses , fling Indian children away in the most immature manner and want the expatriates out, what would people have to say?? (It’s a different thing that US wouldn’t do that because everyone knows it is (if not to a great extent –some extent ) what it is due to Indian capabilities…Mumbai too is Mumbai because of many people who migrated here and created it!)
I’m not wanting to know how “the man” will react to it, since he will be least affected. It will be better the sooner we realize that his “act” is all, only a political stunt for him ..
I’m wanting to know how the common man will react; the one who has been brainwashed by “this man” against the northern population…
India is not developed and everyone knows it is the top notch politicians and people in the country who are responsible for it. And unfortunately, nothing can be said and done by the common man in this.
All he wants to do is lead a peaceful life feed his children and die one day. In order to do that he goes to a place where he can find better opportunities to lead a lifestyle he wishes to lead.
Ditto with the powerless men who migrate from the north .
It is the politician to be blamed not them .We cannot rule out the fact the UP and bihar are the most populated and most corrupt states in india..but because of the politician..
So hit them not the powerless, that is if you have the balls ..
If a prospective leader really wanted to do good he’d carry out necessary action on Lalu and Nitish to curb the population flowing into his state , and not the innocent..
But for every one ..be it Lalu and Nitish who only keep “distantly” shouting from the rooftops about how wrong Rahuls Rajs murder was or about the north indians being ill-treated…or for the Mr MNS who tries to secure his community men by damaging them and their cars itself its just a “political game” ….They are far from being really bothered about us!
Hence we innocent need to come in together to protect each other more maturely and not get carried away by the selfish interests of these politicians’…

WE HAVE TO REALISE IT IS A FIGHT OF THE POWERFUL AGAINST THE POWERLESS..THESE ARE THE ONLY TWO DIVISONS IN THE ENTIRE POPULATION OF THE WORLD…NO RELIGION, NO CASTE, NO LANGUAGE ! WE ARE ONE POWERLESS POPULATION WHO NEEDS TO COME TOGETHER AGAINST THE SO CALLED POWERFUL!

this is what i hate ..

just as one thinks one hates that God damn place and that they've had enough of it and that they want to leave ....
And now that they actually are leaving,,, instead of feeling extremely happy ..for some weird reason their throat chokes and eyes fill up ...
they feel hurt ...emotional for no damn reason
they begin to miss all those Things ...WHY ?
But then everything comes to an end ..and then again one gets used to another such routine!

Everyone will stay ,everything will remain ..
only il be gone and only in my mind it will be insane ....

weird poetry ...

first:
Deep blue seas under light blue skies
Red pink roses against white widow cries
Heavy raindrops under bright sunrise
Tall plush buildings with huts in surmise
Sedan cars with brown feeble kids looking through
Happiness to say so but my heart still feels blue!


second:
Serene and calm she walked miles in pain
The needle that had gotten into her now actually made her feel sane
The head that hurt the foot that was taint
She didn’t want to understand that all she cared for was actually mundane
She wanted to weep aloud but the tears ceased to come out
Was she ever going to “live”, she thought and thought and thought..

Thandi havaa; kaali ghataa

The rains are pouring in Mumbai finally and the sun ceases to shine for even one whole complete minute sometimes.
Its beautiful … gloomy also ; one of those seasons that make you nostalgic about things..
It is also messy , I can see cow shit broken into tinier parts spread across the whole area …yuck! :(
The auto ride is making me feel like a princess , with the curtains drawn on both sides…protecting me from the rain and wind and also the dirty roving eyes of men who stare into the autos to glimpse young women like me! :)

The dusty buildings are finally clean ,the air that smelled of dust and heat now smells of fresh mud! how i lowee this..(these are few of "my" favourite things)
The roads are sparkling in the rain water , the trees look greener and fresher as though they are enjoying this time in their life!
People are running hither thither trying to save themselves from the windy rain. But no one can do much to remain the same dry self they were when they left home!
There is have muck all over ..the cars splashing it over you inevitably -thanks to the pot holed roads! J

But what catches my attention during the wait at the signal is the mother irritated .One of her kids is holding on to her saree with an expressionless face while the other- hardly a few months old in her hand smiles..
They are standing underneath a narrow bus stand roof that can hardly do much to protect them of the heavy shower that is blowing against them ! The rainfall is becoming heavier with every passing minute and the area around the bus stop seems to be filling up with mucky water. The mother is concerned of how she’d manage the little kids and cross them over this muck to reach the bus, if and when it arrives!
The mother is worried about having to manage two kids without getting them wet in these heavy showers,,,she is worried tensed and has begun hating the droplets that fly onto her face and make her wet! She has begun cursing the rains , she has begun feeling the summers were better about which she cribbed a few months ago!

At the same time the child in her arms is loving the droplets that reach his face .He smiles like the rain drops reaching him is tickling him .he smiles and smiles and keeps smiling a smile that his mother misses. It would maybe make her feel better!
He is fascinated by the first ever rain he has seen in his life ! He is not bothered about anything , he doesn’t know the rain can make him ill beacuse he has never been told so! Where as the mother thinks her new born child will catch a cold if she remained outdoor in such weather conditions.


The other kid is lost is scared and is trying to protect himself of the downpour …because his mother has told him that the rains will lead you into a fever and that he shouldn’t get wet and stay put . His eager eyes look at the rain fall and wish to get wet, but he is scared of his mother who is now eagerly waiting for the bus to arrive !
I can see the little child liking the cool wind blowing on to his chubby cheek that have gooseflesh now!
I am learning something from the new born ! :)

Mumbai tested his patience...

He came to Mumbai with a hope to secure some small clerical job in a government office like his uncle had, when he came to this city back in 1951, from the village.
Little did he know that now it was a different scene ;tenth pass outs had no value and there were much more educated men trying to fit into these mundane government jobs.
Mumbai tested his patience when he saw dreams of realizing his children’s dreams, of giving them education he had been deprived off, in this city of hope and opportunity.

He was a BEST driver and Mumbai tested his patience every single day.
Frustration that accumulated over the hours he spent on roads each day showed on his family when he would return and yell at them, sometimes for no reason as well.
The traffic, the illness due to being on Mumbai roads each day for hours, the non-affordability of the cure for these illnesses tested his patience.
The city tested patience of all sections of people, rich to poor. I pity the middle class women –they are running out of time always- be it to finish household chores , reach office after finishing the household chores, or to rush back home to again cook dinner and wrap up.
Maybe the rich woman’s patience was less tested as she had many servants back home to do the household chores, she had left undone or would not find the time to do. Hence hour-long waits at traffics wouldn’t kill her as much.

Men and women, rich or poor, in cars or buses, were tested each minute especially if they had to make it at time to certain places or offices, mostly headed by inconsiderate bosses who would never really understand. They cant be blamed as they would travel by car and leave home much before time as they had nothing much to do or wrap up at home before they left !
Punctuality -the term seriously needs to be overlooked and the lack of it needs to be forgiven in a city of this sort!
When you’re in a taxi, this city is not only testing your patience but worry could even reach heights of landing you in a heart attack.
Its worth noticing peoples expressions when in taxis , especially the middle class guys who are forced to take a taxi ride.
The meter goes dropping promptly and traffic take hours to clear.

YOU JUST NEED LOADS OF MONEY TO SURVIVE IN MUMBAI!

Now my bus driver gained nothing out of hours of traveling his passengers to various places at Mumbai .All that he got was maybe a meager salary.
Nothing great to compensate the extra hours that were lost on the Mumbai roads. It only added to his anger and frustration rather inevitably for which he’d feel guilty, later.
Now there was another old man in the same city who lived in lane, off the main road, which was the route of the bus, the driver drove on.
Mumbai had for years tested this old mans patience as well.
He was ill and tired but still had to cross the main road to reach the bank on the opposite side of the main road.
Mumbai never gave his son time off from his work to be able to do the little bank jobs like pay the bills, get pass book entries done. Etc.
The old man had the time, maybe, but not enough energy. He would wait patiently at the traffic signal till it showed green and take baby steps, covering one part of the road till the divider, at a time when other youngsters covered the entire stretch of the crossing.

Now one-day fate connected these two men in the most ghastly way.

Dug up roads at every nook and corner of the city, the crowded lanes at Kalbhadevi, and to add to these usual factors, the unusual rally of some politician that day had tested the patience of this already frustrated driver enough.
He must have hurled the BC- MC abuses at least hundred times at taxi drivers and cycle walas that day .No ,he was frustrated and hence wouldn’t even give a thought to the possibility of him being on the wrong.
He had had enough that day since the rally that was on his route had tested his patience enough, making him halt every ten seconds, again making him start up and again halt.
Hence when he got a clear road he sped the bus like a maniac in all fury!
On the other hand, little did the old man who was on his usual routine know that this usual day would be unusually dreadful and even life taking.

They don’t say BE PATIENT for nothing.

And what did the driver get for his impatience? Jail, abuses from passengers and onlookers for being irresponsible, the blame of being drunk- published even all over newspapers, and that’s all!
The dreams he had seen for his family were swept off in a second. Nobody really bothered or wept for him other than his close family.

Moral: Take a deep breath. Be patient if you want to survive in this city, else you deserve places other than Mumbai for sure!

nothing is impossible?

They say nothing is impossible ;everything was possible if one wanted!

I wonder if it was that way about everything , atleast in case of expectations out of other humans?
We know some things are impossible but still wish that they would happen.
We know some people don’t even care but still we continue thinking of them all our lives.
The feeling of “what if?” (It had happened)… gets a smile even after years!
They’d ignore you..actually they wouldn’t care .
And you would know it but you’re ego would never hurt or nor would you be embarrassed to approach them the 100th time.
But even as you try hard you know it still remains impossible!

A song would remind you of them; walking past certain lanes would travel you back to some nostalgic moments.

Subconsciously happiness would set in and soon without your knowledge- you’d be spreading joy all around you ,the day the impossible seemed more approachable!
You’re happy those few moments but still know somewhere deep down that it still remains impossible!

Its also funny how it becomes impossible to think of another possibility in the same manner as before, that is maybe waiting to happen.
No matter how hard you tried…it was unreasonable and impossible!

…-WHY ARE SOME THINGS JUST SOOO IMPOSSIBLE?

MEN WHO DON'T MATTER?

The Indian beggar!
Peak hour rush in Mumbai local trains needs no explanation!
It was 9.30 ish and I was heading towards college. I travel by the harbour line hence the crowd is comparatively lesser than the western and central lines.
Traveling with the crowd becomes all the more a mess when its rainy season ,and so it was at the time!
I hated traveling in the crowd but we Mumbaiites have no other option !
To add to it traveling in the woman’s compartment is one big pain. With women pushing one another for no reason, finding reasons to fight that too at an irritating pitch till others around would hope they’d shut up! And the most irritating of it all was women sitting at the gate and screaming “at you” if u ever ,inevitably stamped them during peak hours!
Traveling in these locals give one a sense of the quality of life we Indians lead!
It makes you feel that each one deserved much better .Each instance of traveling in the local at the peak hour makes me feel like taking up politics and making these small changes at least , for the betterment !
Well that day was usual, and I pushed myself into the crowded train till something unusual met my eye!
There was an old beggar man standing at one corner of the door from where I entered. Finding beggars at every nook and corner of Mumbai - not an unusual phenomenon though!
Nobody really took notice of him or rather had the time to take notice of him when they entered..
Now I have to tell you that I have one sensory organ of my body not functioning properly- my nose. Funnily I really just can’t smell sometimes.
Hence people had started to take notice of him soon enough and I hadn’t . Yes he stinked! (or so it seemed!)
I could hear the women around me murmur of how the entire compartment stinked due to his presence. There was like an unaffordable “meter” long distance around the man due to this. Everyone just wanted to move away and hence I was forced to stand closest to him!
I let the other women take the benefit since my sensory wasn’t functioning anyway! The women covered their noses with the edges of their duppatas and sarees, and continued making those weird faces.
Now I have another problem, I think all we writers do infact and that is THINK about anything or any given situation and make deep observations ;well that day doing so affected me for a long time!
Since I was closer to the man ,who was “still”, with his head bent down ,occupying very little space like a crumpled piece of waste paper thrown in a corner, I started to wonder what made him stink!
He had formed dense facial hear and had tattered clothes on like any other beggar!
I began looking at him head to toe, his hair and eyelashes swayed with the wind, but he remained still -like as though he was dead but standing!
His toe nails were out of place, dismembered, some were even missing. The heel had huge cracks .His skin was now like how our fingers became when kept in water for long, crumpled!
I reasoned it out to be the constant exposure to rain, and thought of it to be the reason for the stench!
Moments later ,as a few stations passed, and the train cleared much more, I moved into the compartment’s seating area and found a seat for good!
But I am what I am , I hated what I saw but continued looking at the man ,now from a distance!
I continued looking at the old beggar man who was still unmoved ,silent ,still and in the same position.
I wondered if he ever moved or spoke, I wondered if he’d remain in this train ,this compartment forever .Or if anyone would bother to move him out or if he himself had the sense to bother moving out, ever!
Then Masjid came, a station prior to VT. The train halts there for some more seconds than other stations, since most of the travelers in the luggage compartment moved out here!
Finally my beggar man moved, slowly taking baby steps, his head still down .
And as he turned the sight that met my eye affected me to the extent that I felt sick and nausea tic; the sight haunted me for days together when ever I touched my morsel of food!
His torn pants were full of shit at the backside!
Now I realized what was the cause of the stink! I felt horrible and hated myself for being extra observant!
He continued -silently to get off the train and move in some direction, I wanted to follow him . I wondered if he ever spoke or felt anything, I wondered if he knew where he had to go , I wondered if he knew which station he was at?
The women murmuring about how he stinked and how such men should be prevented from getting into the train came back in my head and I wondered if the man had heard those words, if he even understood them, if he felt anything listening to what people had to say about him . Did he understand, did he ever speak or even react!?

Such incidents make me believe in something as ones past karma. Why would someone be subjected to such degraded standards of life-it cant be for no reason!
I thanked God for what I was that day! I wondered what kind of wrong he may have done to have had a life of that sort (I wondered if I could call his, a life even.) A life that didn’t matter to anyone around him and maybe not even to himself.
He just plain existed!
Even if he wanted to “live” or find happiness in anything (as the philosophers say ) he had no hope . Rather it would be apt to say that he wasn’t given a chance for hope.
He would just exist; till God painfully thought he had suffered enough for his karma and it was time for him to experience gods abode!