Painting-Poesy #10: Flowers?!!

Roses scattered overhead
As millions plodded ahead
Hungry, thirsty for days
Filled with dread of even 1 positive case

No money to buy a seat on a bus or a train
India's coffers were not theirs to drain.
PM CARES! Yes indeed!
For showbiz and mockery!

And tear-filled drama some day will ensue
It is to lesser actors that this week we have bid adieu.
Corruption comes in all forms
A lack of heart, the refusal to see, the worst of all.

Classist India, not classy nor classic
What you sow today is tomorrow's arsenic
Shameful! Wasteful! Governments State and Central
Remember: Today's weak and meek will one day be powerful.

Liberty. Equality. Fraternity: The French Revolution
Swadeshi. Swarajya: India's Evolution.
Remember: It is mass, not class, that does a nation make
Remember and act before it is too late.


#FoodorFlowers #MedsOrFlowers #IndiaBleeding #IndiaWeeping #ClassistAttitudes #BestUseofArmyNOT

- Written on 3 May 2020.
- Today, India took the historically brave, the unparalelled sensitive decision to shower flowers from the skies, to thank frontline workers, roses mind you, and using Army jets at that, while lakhs of migrant workers had to pay 30% more than usual bus fares and sleeper train prices to go home.

Painting-Poesy #9: The Australian Bushfire

The screams I hear in my dreams
Through a curtain of orange dancing beams
Tortured animals seeking shelter
No respite. Mankind's blunder.

As we debate people's rights,
Trees and animals gasp their plight.
World over the climate change danger
Is shown escalating, but we just ponder.

'Now' is all we seem able to think about
Economics all we care about.
Stock exchanges soar as forests burn
Oh! Against nature what a drastic turn.

As 10,000 camels get shot in Australia,
So much coverage of Megxit to Canada.
This self-involvement of humanity
Has been the cause of many a calamity.

The world is burning, drowning, self-destructing.
But development metrics to money we keep linking.
Someone told me the other day "Why care who gets included or educated?
In a decade or so, we might ALL be anyway dead."


#ClimateChange #globalwarming #AustraliaBushfire

- Written on 11 Jan 2020.
- Self-explanatory

Privilege

Brutalised. Bloodied. She lies on the road.
"In death lies justice " is the crowd's roar.
"Her cries were ignored, her pain must be avenged,
Shoot them. Hang them. They must pay for their offence."

But some cry out otherwise
They are in turn reviled.
As enemies of women
As ruthless, as craven.

I wonder if justice always leads to peace.
Can revenge ever be to progress a key.
Fanon said of decolonisation
That it can't occur without violence.

But is that true?
The Rwanda story shows a different hue.
As for those protesting death sentence
They worry that then there will be less deterrence.

See, life is valued by those who have plenty,
Those who feel they have little to lose may be more freed
To commit crimes aplenty,
For death can't be revisited time-a-many.

Also then would girls and women come forward
To report family and friends of behaviour untoward
What about a woman raped by her husband
Will her trauma be ever subsumed by fear of this punishment?

Or does one think there are levels of rape?
That some can be forgiven, because, you see, PRIVILEGE.
That some people deserve it
That not actions, but persons and stations judgements merit.

I wonder...
What we value better,
The need for long-term reforms
Or a temporary feel good action acknowledgement?

This is not to say that those who suffered or are families and friends of those who suffered rape be sympathetic to abusers. This is a reflection on society as a whole and the value systems we seem to practice regardless of theories we spout.

- Written on 24 Jan 2020.
- Nirbhaya's killers were finally hanged to death. But...

Class Privilege

In our privileged homes with just our family
Even if they do drive us crazy,
Even as of lockdown travails we crib and moan,
The poor, the migrants yearn for home.

We tweet away #BharatPadheOnline
We promote #ArogyaSetu as our defence line!
As hungry and thirsty, millions fear
Losing their sole connection to those dear.

Are #Mobilephone companies even listening?
Are governments of the poor even caring?
No pay, no way. Will utilities be cut off?
Do we care if millions their slow death sob?

#MiddleClassPrivilege #UpperClassPrivilege #IndiaDoesNOTCare

- Written on 15 April 2020
- Reference: https://www.bloombergquint.com/coronavirus-outbreak/not-rs-500-indias-poor-need-at-least-rs-3000-a-month-george-mason-university-researchers 

Breakneck Pace during Lockdown

The breathless pace, a lack of space
Family aghast, peace frays.
The silence outside beckons
One dares not though for work summons.

Phone in one hand, plugged in earphones
One sweeps and mops as colleagues drone.
Carefully vessels are handled in the sink,
So the other side may not hear how insanity is on the brink.

No time to eat, food made in a hurry,
Forgotten in the rush is our legitimate worry,
Of how we fare as a society, as a human,
Whether we need change for redemption.

Deadline to deadline, call to meeting
We ever rush even knowing we are sinking,
Is the pandemonium over the pandemic worth it
Is this quest to find answers NOW the right fit?

What will happen if for a day or two or a month even
We do nothing organised and let our thoughts deepen
Would we reach a new realisation
Could there be another solution?

How will we ever know, if we never pause?
How will we ever grow if we still chase goals false?
But how do we dare to do nothing
When the world demands our everything?

- Written on 1 May 2020. Labour Day.
- Lockdown extended for another 15 days. Deadlines even more rushed and more work than ever piles on. 

Social Distancing

As I hear of millions of people walking miles across states,

as I hear of more and more cases of ostracism of health care professionals and delivery personnel and air line crew (all in societies with members who have earned degrees - I refuse to call this group educated -),

as I read more and more on some groups I belong to how unclean this other group (so many euphemisms for basic caste prejudice)  is in a situation completely wrought by a more privileged class,

as I hear the moans of those stuck at home who are wondering what to buy and how to buy when they would have enough food for at least three days to a week of survival,

as I hear the sorrowful exclamations of those losing money as the stockmarket plummets

and as I hear stories of how poor kids are cooped up and how poor parents are dealing with this

I sympathise A TEENY-WEENY bit.

For I hear the growls of stomachs hungry for days now trudging home on feet,

I hear the cries of children on streets unable to make ends meet

I hear the sniffles of parents whose families survived on pav and tea from the vendor

I hear the angst of the doctors and nurses grappling with dwindling supplies and worries for their own kin

I hear the delivery personnel needing to balance health and pay check be questioned for late delivery,

I hear the maids and drivers calling anxiously if their pay would be docked

I see the suffocation of 10 and more crammed in a 8 by 8 room with little to eat and no money to test

Stay Home! How wonderful! In a country with millions homeless.

Complete lockdown of hotels and such in a country with millions of migrants and poor who survive on buying food.

Complete lockdown of transport because the poor can die or they can walk, how cares a jot.

No. No. Yes, Yes. We care. Absolutely.

In the meanwhile let's crib about internet speeds and organise 10 hour long calls for productivity.

For a revolution to happen, I think we need the middle class.

For that to happen, they must either be empathetic or SUFFER.

I have given up on empathy.

Maybe suffering will teach me

Less complacency, more proactiveness,
Less dramatic speech, more foresightedness.
Less (nothing) of building temples or mosques,
More of hospitals that care for people on the ground
Less (nothing) of SOPs to people with billions,
Immediate money transfer to Jan Dhan accounts,
Appropriating all statues, places of worship and such's money
Emptying the coffers of every single political party,
Every marketing campaign to thrice over contribute to environment and health
All of us stopping this crazy rush to accumulating wealth.


No milk for 3 days or seven
No food supplies even
Water scarcity, every drop would count
May be then we can finally, superficially understand
The suffering of millions (the majority), our true strength grand.

- Written on 26 March 2020
- Migrants dying of hunger during #LockdownWithoutPlan 

When books don't captivate..

Busy. Busy. Busy.
The mind an ever humming bee.
When so much noise is there
Can you to relax even bear?

For words flow best from paper in silence
Not world's mind you, but your quiesence
If there is inanity even disturbing the peace
Thoughts interfere. Reception does cease.

Mindless ramblings your mind sojourns
You wonder why words it shuns
But no more ideas can it take
No more, not to one more person can it relate.

So in this cacophony, let yourself be
Forgive yourself, don't feel guilty
And actively seek to yourself release
From the mundaneness that holds you in captivity.

Then words will come to you on paper and in dreams,
The novel, the poems, the drama will be all beams
That bathe you in their light,
That make you laugh and cry
Ecstasy too you see
Needs some calm, some peace.

- Written sometime ago.
- I had written these lines for a teacher who complained that she was unable to read anymore. I think it applies to us as well in these times of Corona.

Heed the Signs

The birds outside my window are still chirping
It is almost noon, but they are still out flying,
The noise from the daily bustle is missing
Nature's on display and it is heartening.

No one out and about is such a wonderful thing,
One hears the whisper of a butterfly's wings,
The squirrels pecking away, the crows cawing,
Listen, there is an orchestra unfolding.

We need more such days of unwinding,
May be that will lead to realising
No progress is worth this rush
Not if environment we crush.

Let's not forget the daily workers,
The sweepers, the chemists, the vendors,
The nurses and doctors, the transporters,
Let us make pay commensurate with labour.

Maids not coming makes one miserable,
So for her raise or leave no longer quibble.
Learning is important, not degree or money
Kanika Kapoor onwards stop celebrating idiocy.

All those foreign returned educated fools
Who would with paracetamol tricks temperatures cool,
Such selfishness proves you useless, spineless ignoramuses
Whose degree and money is not worth the paper printed.

Clang hands and pots and pans by all means
But also get them masks and other aids of hygiene,
Health can't be 1% of the GDP or your tax portfolio
Environment is more important than building statues or having the economy grow.

And every leader who said 'How can we?'
'What will happen to the economy?'
Well, now you know we can recover
Redefine at least now how we prosper.

Of humans we have 7 billion,
But Earth, we have just this one.
We need to think and act now, today
We need to commit to a slower, more rewarding pace.

Painted 22 Dec 2018

Photo Taken from Bedroom on 23 March 2020

#Janatacurfew #Coronavirus #Covid19 #Education #Progress #Nature #Health #environment #India

- Written on 22 March 2020.
- Self-explanatory.

Happy 2020!

Wish you and yours a wonderful 2020!

May this year be filled with 366 days of love and laughter.

For my annual verbal diarrhoea, read on :) or skip NOW 🤣🤣🤣

Oh 2019! What tumultuousness you brought
We are still with tensions fraught.

From the Amazon fire that raged
To Greta Thunberg's fierceness on stage
From Trump's extravagant self-indulgence
To all the year end divulgence.
From UK's Theresa May's exit
To Boris Johnson's ongoing Brexit.
From Hong Kong to Bolivia to Lebanon
Mass protests have the world over risen.

In India, Kalam had wished for his nation
To be everyone's preferred residential destination
To have us all proud of our leadership
Oh! How far we still are from his wish.

As a country we lead, certainly,
But in internet shutdowns and children going hungry.
While Kalam imagined equity and plenty
We spiral down and down to  divisive polity.

But despair not, there is hope yet.
The youth is here to protect
The constitution, the world even,
Nature and each fellow human.

Be it Greta or the youth of India
Focus is on action, not just posts on social media.
Yes, we could have spoken up sooner
For causes equally dearer.

But there is, at last, change in the air,
Knowledge with passion is often paired.
A new morality, pragmatic reality:
Votes have spoken for greenery and humanity.

Yes, we are far from Kalam's 2020.
But we have our own Humpy,
Sports has brought us much glory.
And though no longer Indian, we claim Abhijit Banerjee.

As Faiz, Ambedkar and Maulana Azad
Vie to be seen on many a placard,
We see a nation, the world, arise
We see leaders taken by surprise.

Be it New Zealand's or Kerala's bipartisan buy in
Of climate change laws or anti-discriminatory inclusion
We all have sung as loud as we could
"One life, you’ve got to do what you should."

2020 may you be kinder
Usher in a period saner and safer
Grant us all peace and wonder
Have us more united and wiser
Enable us together all prosper
May nature and humanity, both, you foster.

- Written on 31 December 2019.
- Self-explanatory to a large extent.
Humpy won the chess championship, Abhijit Banerjee and coterie the Nobel, mass protests the world across have shown the power of humanity, the NRC-CAA seemed like the last straw for many an Indian after Kashmir's internet shutdown since August 2019, Greta Thunberg was Times's Person of the Year for her activism, youth across the world are leading the way to change, from Kerala and New Zealand are united, the protests in India quote Faiz, Ambedkar and Azad (so do pro-CAA at times strangely), and I quoted U2 (which toured in India this 2019) "One life, you’ve got to do what you should."

We should and we will. Inquilab Zindabad! 

In Response to Reflections

Jagged though the pieces be
The indulgence doesn't seem petty
When with hope it fills our being
When memories it gives comforting.

A broken mirror many demean
But look even when broken it has its sheen
It reflects our truths manifold
It shows us perspectives earlier untold.

So shadows though we seem to chase
It is human, is it not, to participate in the race?

- Written on 24 November 2019.
- In response to a poem-post by Shakir called Reflections, which in itself seems to have been inspired by a story I shared yesterday captioned Aaina mujhse meri pehli si surat maange... 

Find Shakir's post here: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10158098759389767&id=783374766 

Lost in the Kindle Maze - Tagore

Tagore's 'Kabuliwala' iconic
A story that takes us to lands scenic,
Tells of stranger-danger bias
Overcome by a child's welcoming cries,
Shows the common bonds love for family
Shared by all of humanity.

This tale we set out to search for
Publishers we found galore.
Written first in Bengali and translated into English,
Many a translation we found remiss.

Kindle seemed to be the new in-thing
And bookshops stored more of Ruskin Bond's inkings.
This 1892 public domain story found home in collections many,
Alas! publishers charged exorbitantly.

It makes one wonder what is affordability
How do we ensure for all information accessibility?
Is it to be that kindle is the way to go?
Ebooks rather than paperbacks will grow?

So perhaps we must
Give teaching a new thrust:
Include reading skills on gadgets
To ensure information reaches the masses
To be inclusive in affordability
We might need our materials to tweak.

Studies aplenty describe paper's quality
Of information in our brain's survivability.
But we need to perhaps make way for strategies
To teach retention despite processing digitally.
Perhaps we need to stop moaning about the old days,
Perhaps we need to carve out new educative ways.

Said Tagore on educating a child:
"Don't limit a child to your own learning,
For he was born in another time",
This was the Nobel Laureate's insistence:
"The highest education... makes our life
In harmony with all existence".
Today's methods rooted in mindless tradition he would deplore
He would urge us to new territories with objectivity explore.

This man, a synthesis of civilisations -
Hindu, Mohammaden and Western -
Being ever rational and respectful in disagreements,
One who lived his life on his own terms.
His copious work not available easily is a pity,
His thoughts need to be disseminated more widely.

- Written on 17 November 2019.
- In reaction to trying to find an affordable Kabuliwala to gift 40+ people in these last 03-04 days. 🙄🙄🙄

On Ayodhya Verdict - चलो मंदिर मस्जिद बनाएँ

एक कर्म का क्या खूब फल मिला
देश को दहशत में डुबाने में कौन सफल रहा।
मस्जिद गिराके मंदिर बनाओ
था मंदिर पहले यकीन दिलाओ।
कानून कहता विश्वास है सच्चा
मानो बात उसकी जिसने आतंक फैलाया ।
ना सोचो कि क्या एक गलत से दूसरा गलत धुल गया
ना मानो कि आज एक बार फिर यथार्थ को भरोसे ने झुक्लाया।
हाँ, यहि है राम भूमि, कर्म भूमी
शर्म और इंसाफ की मृत्यु श्रेणी।

- Written on 10 November 2019.
- In Response to the Ayodhya Verdict by the Supreme Court of India on 9 November 2019. 

Painting-Poesy #8: Happy Diwali 2019

Stories of resilience are often told
To give the miserable encouragement and hope.

Be it the the darkest night lit with rebellion
Lights of knowledge spearing the machiavellian
Be it the laughter of dear ones enlivening spaces
Be it the bounty shared shining through grinning faces.

Be it the spirit to say 'No to Crackers',
Be it the spirit that yearns for sparklers
Both united in wishing for all
Of peace and prosperity a steady rainfall.

So too I wish for all of us this season of joy,
May we be inclusive, wise and stronger in unity, than the new magnesium alloy. :)


- Written on 26 October 2019.
- Diwali is on 27 October 2019.
- Also on Facebook and Instagram - Facebook Link

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10156261736706230&substory_index=0&id=692626229

Let the child in each of us ever be free. Joy lies therein.
- Someone must have said this. If not #AnushaLogism.

Painting-Poesy #7: Black

Black is something often reviled
With depression it does get filed,
But a person sad will tell you
Black comforts, colours hurt you.

The loudness of red is a gunshot
The cheeriness of yellow highlights your life's rot
The soft pink
Makes you your tears blink
The blue sky is bright
Seemingly indifferent to your plight
The vibrant green
Gives more than you can glean.
A failure is what these colours make you feel
In a hypersensitive state, just one is enough to deal
Black obliterates them all and yet them encapsulates
If the message is what is important, black has all that it takes.

Shhhhh, let silence be,
Ahhhh, in nothing do beauty see,
Take a deep breath, let peace in seep
Do not be afraid with friends to weep.
Lend an arm, a shoulder, an ear
Not false hopes, peddle just support against fear.
Let the sad be, do not chasten,
Do not unnecessarily recovery hasten,
It takes effort and strength, but accept
This is a process, and just your company is all they expect.

#worldMentalHealthDay #mentalhealth #Depression #Support #justbeing

- Written (and painted) on 10 October 2019.
- Why? Well it is World Mental Health Day.
- First shared on Instagram and Facebook.

Happy Ganesh Chathurthi 2019!

Vignaharta - Remover of Obstacles
But do setbacks give a sense of what else is possible?
Do they serve a function of pause and reflect?
Do they make us see in our charts, the defect?
If then, should obstacles be removed?
When there is no opposition, will we be improved?

Questions to ponder upon as we Ganesha's name invoke
Do we really want all challenges revoked?
Ganapati is also known as Vignakarta - the obstacle creator,
For the value of hurdles is known to a good educator.

The taste of failure often teaches
More than what one accomplishes.
One won't realise one's inner strength
Unless one overcomes some resistance.
One won't be truly aware of one's conviction,
Unless one is posed a contrary opinion.
One won't change and evolve in the path of progression
If one never faces a reason for course correction.

So invoke Ashrith and grant obstacles too protection,
As Amazon and Aarey are destroyed, may there be more rebellion.
And by remembering Atharv may all strive for true sagacity.
By supplicating to Anav may we peacefully actualise the bonds of humanity.

Happy Vinayagar Chathurthi!

- Written on 2 September 2019.
- Because it is Ganesh Chathurthi today. Because on these times it seems all the more necessary to have a robust opposition and ensure less smooth sailing and more course corrections :)


And because I am on Facebook -

A Response to a Response on my this post:
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10156133671561230&id=692626229

But the names invoke a call to action
And perhaps we need remember the reason
Why there must be some opposition
Even as we march in the name of progression,
Let there also be a celebration
Of causes of pause and reflection.

We need all the more voices
To make us evaluate our choices.
Inclusion is key and it is within us
To listen, to speak, to respectfully discuss. :)



And a response to An Ode to Ganesha by Anjali Monteiro
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10220986288990979&id=1354335878

Says Ganesha, the symbol of protest,
Born of political maneuvers this overt fest,
Know my stories to know me,
I preach not violence but peace,
Not temples, but relationships I revere,
The downfall of bullying and pettiness I steer.

I was born of my mother, adopted by my father,
But no one questions my right to my forebearer.
I am for all, I know no religion or nationality,
Buddhism, Jainism, Sinhalese, Japanese all adopt me.
I am bound to not even one name
Alas my followers often remember just my fame.
I am now just a pandal hopping game,
Donations and footfalls are all I can claim.

But know my stories to know me,
Look for meaning though, not superficiality.

Feudalism: Outdated or is it?

In response to a Facebook post by a friend/ex-colleague/thinker-philosopher. 


Hmm... wonderfully written, but it makes me ponder,
The feudal mentality seems never to falter,
The lord beckons and sudama hastens,
Revelling in whatever his benefactor sanctions,
The happy man is happy,
But what his aspirations, what reality?
When in Bengaluru he faced revile,
Did he then his dreams in dusty corner file?
Is it satisfaction or contentment or resignation or a poor comparison?
What does he provide as happiness' definition?

The feudal prince has the luxury of time to think, to strum, to write,
Another privileged then reads and decries,
Even as Mohanna and like stand ready
To serve these 'knowers' with an ear, a smile, pakodas and tea.


______________________________
In reponse to a response


Kumar Arunachal I ripped myself too. Write more. Write thus. Your writings provoke. Be provocative. Make others think through.

As I was rereading your post and I have read it a few times, my bai got me tea that I had begun brewing and then got on a call and forgot about as I logged back into Facebook to respond to some comment and then saw your post again and it got me thinking and writing.

She is happy too, my kaam wali bai, so she says. I am the privileged you refer to. The thinking pseudo-liberal classicism deriding classist practitioner. I have been following the multilple class and caste based racist reports and your post struck me, it stabbed me too, provoked me to self-examination.

So thank YOU. Keep writing. :)

Kumar Arunachal also please do not think it was shallow. It is deep. It is a honest self-exploration. I do think you were writing about Mohanna as much as your own journey of feudal expectations and feudal realities. You were being critical, but honest and sensitive.

I just feel at times, and this is also because perhaps I am spending a lot of time talking to maids and helpers amd dealing with classicist, racist mentalities at home and even service providers that I am pondering upon

What is happiness for someone never allowed to dream?
When the dreams were tailored, they would have very rigid seams?
When the material was coarse, the cutting rough?
When ragged edges were ruthlessly hidden by stitches tough?
When the cut was functional, not complimentary?
What then was one's imagination of beauty?
When just survival is both a challenge and a necessity,
What then one's idea of development versus duty?

It is something I have been trying to grapple with and felt I could share with you here, since you seem to be grappling with the other side of the coin.

What when has aplenty
What challenge then remains to be?
What when success is the platform
What act then can one perform?
What when family history
Makes one's jaw drop with glory and gory,
When repelled one is still bound
That the ties strengthen even as they confound.
What when one looks around and sees
More hope in those who should have felt misery.
What when knows not what cause has one to rebel or revel
What then is the fate of the individual?

The problem of the current well-off
Of both aspiration and deprivation complaints they are rid of.

- 27 August 2019.
- Yes these were Facebook replies, but I liked these so thought to record them here as well :)

Link to Facebook Post that triggered all this https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10157623256819571&id=834854570 

For Your Own Good

There is a girl. She was wed as a child into a much richer household that promised to take care of her as their own. She was reluctant. So was her guardian, but he chose to marry her off, hoping for the best. Her consent was not sought. As she demurred quietly and then loudly, her new family said they would ask her consent again, later when she was older, wiser, knew them enough (they hoped that she loved them enough) to take the decision (they hoped it was the 'right' one and she would choose them). They knew she was an asset to them. She would be an asset to anyone. She had many riches untapped, unexplored. She would be the envy of the world as a gem in their crown. They looked forward to polishing her. 

They paid for her education and her food. She created some resources for herself, but it was not enough to sustain her. They allowed her to stay on in her home town (not that she was going to be a willing resident of theirs if they had pushed, anyway). They also paid for guards to protect her. Well they said protect, she said restrict. You get the point. She grew into a slightly difficult person with more contradictions and complexities than most.

She had a rental. It was more like a hovel to many others, but to her it was her kingdom. She had to share it with others and she cleverly ousted a few from the place supposedly to make more room for herself. The family heard of this and protested. Said she was unwilling to settle in the HUGE mansion they had saying she wanted a small place and then obviously was showing off her aspirations for a larger place. Why did she not join them? Together they could be happy. She again objected. She said she was sure they were not bad, but she was not sure that they were good for her.

She would rather severe ties if they needed her to stay in the family mansion. She was happy with her hovel. She would carry their name, but she wanted to lead her own life. Without their interference.

She had friends. Some friends the family did not like and they curtailed her friendships. She accepted the limitations with some reluctance. She was not sure the family was not right. But she resented being told what to do.

Periodically, there were talks between her and the family. They insisted she belonged with them in their space, she resisted the inclusion. She termed it intrusion. She had ambitions. The family said they could help her fulfill them. She wanted, oh how she yearned! But she was afraid of being stripped of her identity. She saw the family as good to many. But she also saw how they treated the disobedient within them. The ones with contrary opinions who voiced them vociferously. She had so many, many such contrary opinions. And she did not want to be beaten up. She came to think 'help' was a 'bribe' to get her to accept the family. She was not sure the family would stay that good to her once she became theirs wholly. She wanted to retain her semi-independence.

Now the family was getting impatient. They had waited years. They had expended resources on her. They had shown how tolerant they were, how broadminded. But she just was not seeing. She refused to see.

They decided she had to be made to see. They took over her rental agreement. They took her passport away. They blocked her bank accounts. They took away her cell phone. They ensured she had no resource she could tap into. They locked her down and then told her you are ours. We have done so much for you, high time you learnt your place. We will do well by you, but you need to live by our terms. Learn to accept. Rejoice. 

The story ends here for now. It is for each of us to decide if the family or the girl are in the wrong or in the right. What would you do if you were that girl? What would have been your advise to the family?

What if the girl's name were Kashmir? Does your answer change? 

— Written on 11 August 2019.

— My post on 'At Crossroads' led to some debate on FB in public and much more on private chats and messages. My post was also tagged as 'against community standards'. :) Some threatening messages of how I need to lose my Indian citizenship and perhaps I am a Pakistani at heart also followed. All on messenger or DMs rather than on the public posts.

It led me to question why is it that we do not want to hear a contrary opinion? I reread How to Get Power on TED Ideas and the idea of story stuck me anew. This story had already been brewing in my mind as a metaphor. But now I decided to not just let it roam the empty hallways in my mind and pen it down. Hence this post. 

Painting-Poesy #6 At Crossroads

The past few days I have tried, 

As I failed, I have cried. 

I tried to understand the rejoice, 

I failed to understand the choice.

The majority celebrates, I am told,

A minority is all that objects, does not let go.

I have heard this often in my life:

When being raped is passed off as a duty of a wife, 

When being beaten up toughens up a child

When being domesticated is better for a creature of the wild.

A woman's desires are suppressed, the majority is happy,

An artist's dreams are repressed, the majority is happy,

A state's existence wiped out, the majority is happy,

Democracy bows to authority, the majority is happy. 

Dissent has been vilified, 

Questions have been nullified , 

Joys have danced on fears, 

There has been little sympathy for tears. 

Consent: how do we practice it? 

Does 'right' supercede it? 

Do to 'power' we accede it? 

Can only the 'majority' exercise it? 

We have often spoken up, spoken against, 

It may take time but dialogue is the way, 

Said peace leaders when they held sway. 

Even their dissenters they allowed space. 

But new times are here, 

It is aggression that does steer, 

A contrary voice is shouted down, 

All that is venerated is one with the crown. 

I have tried, tried really hard

To understand the facts and the farce

But I fail to see how secrecy

And muffling voices can be a democracy.

The 'majority' opinion counts, no doubt,

But do we then contrary opinions just oust?

#Kashmir #India #Democracy #Consent

- Written on 9 August 2019.

- For many days the idea of democracy as seen through the lens of what has been happening with J&K and Article 370 has been on my mind as I grappled to understand what was unfolding and how this could come to be. 

As I stated in a tweet: I have faith in India even when I have little belief in the political leadership.

But around the world as more and more such incidents occur, the idea of democracy needs revisiting.

Posted first on Facebook and Instagram on 9 August 2019.

Taleem Kabul (कबूल)

Taleem Kabul

No excuse. How can there be?
Children cannot be made terrorism's casualty.
One can argue, debate, hold a contrary position,
But violence cannot, should not, be a solution.

'No matter what we will be educated'
Says a post of a student frustrated
By attacks in his country
Yet won over by a child's piety
As the child wounded clutches his book
One can only with wonder and hope at the child look.

Another has posted a child's face dripping with blood,
Anger, pity, worry all through one's being flood.
Yet another says a friend has died
What words of comfort can suffice?

In a class I heard recently this question
'What is there to know?'
There is misery and terror, so much emotion
But is this worth knowing? A resounding NO.

Children know this today unfortunately,
We fail as adults to protect them from tragedy,
We fail to create a constructive reality
We fail as a society.

But perhaps in education lies hope,
Perhaps the next generation will not like us grope,
Perhaps they will know to not fight wars,
Perhaps they will know what is truly a just way and cause.

Perhaps they will live, thrive
And not just survive,
Perhaps they will help each other.
I hope their world will be much better.

- Written on 1 July 2019.
- Was in Kabul, Afghanistan when a bomb attack occurred on 1 July. Nearby schools were not spared. The images were graphic and heartwrenching.

Painting-Poesy #5

The inside of an ambulance smells different each time
The rides all do not have the same vibe.
The reasons are varied too
One may be coming from the hospital or towards it riding to.

The ride maybe short, just a road away,
The ride may be long with many vehicles to overtake,
The ride may have companions encouraging
Or the mood may be foul, any optimism dissuading.

The ambulance itself is a different shell
Housing all kinds of equipment to stem the death knell
Or housing just a stretcher and bench
With nothing to mask worry's stench.

The varied types of stretchers
The varied lifting devices, usually made of leathers,
The many ways to pull, to push, to shift,
So much to learn. Pray! why was this not our school's gift?

The windows or lack of do not register
Your own opinions to such extremes dance and quiver
And in the next bump they disappear,
Of life's vagaries the ride makes you an acceptor.

-Written on 21 July 2019.
- July has been a month of ambulance rides for mom. In fact, 2019 has seen us in and out of ambulances and hospitals more times than I can count.