My Idea of Romance!

By Sadho Ram

Author's note: It was written back in 2010-11, as a result of a very lengthy discussion on my Facebook profile about how when we associate ourselves with a cause, IT IS our moral obligation to fight for it till the end. No matter what. To be honest, this is an incomplete write-up of the whole idea of romance that I have, but sadly haven't been able to get down to it and complete it. Maybe, someday I will, let's hope! For now, this is what it is..

The word – Romance, regardless of the magnitude it carries in its meaning, is but a much underrated word. It though continues to flourish today, but its reach as well as its breeding is limited. Its usage in terms of the way people use it, is barricaded to emotional love between the two human species – male and female. But Romance is not limited to just between these two flesh and bone subjects. As such, as it never should have been, but shockingly it has, either forcibly or deceptively. Today, when I look around, I see no Romance. Oh, leave romance; I see not even a tint of it.

There is this other thing called self gratification prevailing all around the Globe in a manner and speed, which is beyond any earthly comparisons. People, in their desire (which too, get born by /from observing the activity of other people) to be different in a manner they think that will make them attain uniqueness, are but becoming impostors.

To explain my above statement, I will request you to consider, for instance, the “Save Tiger Campaign” (in India) by several media houses and corporate organizations. Whatever has been done has only been done on papers and screens only. That too, without any, and I can say this much that with Zero concrete outcome. TEHELKA’s Chilling Exposé is the blatant proof!

As “Save something campaigns” have become fashion statements these days, people pick one depending on their choice/life-style, as they pick clothes, and then make some noise. What happens after that, no one gives a damn! Whether that “something” lived, died or whatever is of no concern for anyone. Because what matters for them is the visibility of their campaign, the self gratifying pleasure that they squeeze from it. Not the authenticity or the purpose for which that particular campaign was initiated.

And I’m not generalizing everyone in this generalized statement. I understand what certain people – the artistic kinds and few other tribes; feel or might feel about issues and factors affecting and plaguing our society, and I’m in very much in awe towards this nature of theirs and carry tremendous amount of respect for them in my heart. But that is not the point here, the point is, people today are applying the “herd mentality”everywhere they can or want to, and in everything. And this is very dangerous, because, while they are at it, they are at the same time also not aware of their selves being at it. It’s like sleep-walking. You are walking, but you do not know you are indeed walking, because you are not awake, therefore, not aware.

You don’t start or initiate a campaign just because your neighbor did and got famous. You ought to have something concrete to do so, something valid. Something which gives you not just the self gratification, but the purpose of fulfillment because of the initiative and the steps taken in regards of it. You ought to have the gut to fight it out, even if it demands your blood. Yes, blood!

I know all this sounds too ridiculously romantic but then that is the purpose of it, that you make love – Romance – to it. As this is the way you make love to something or someone. To speak in the tone you would understand – it is something that when you feel about someone in a very emotional manner. Say, for the most simple example, if you are a man and feel for a woman, and are willing or are determined to do anything that circumstances or in circumstances she might demand you to do, and you will do it, without much consideration of the outcome that your action might have on you or on your life personally. Because you know, if not for her, your life has no other purpose or meaning. Because you have given away yourself to that cause which is her. Because you realize she is your purpose or campaign, which you must save, because you initiated it, and now she is your duty above everything and everyone else.

So, when you feel about some issue affecting a certain section of society, you ought to have that romantic attitude you are supposed to have when you are in love with a woman as a man or towards a man as a woman or in similar sex and are willing to do absolutely anything for your partner’s sake.

And this is my idea of romance, where I attain ultimate freedom only when I give myself completely to the cause which I have chosen. And it does not necessarily need to be a social one, nor does it need to be for the betterment of humanity or any such kind. My cause can perfectly be me. I can be my cause and dedicate myself towards it. As for me, life is too small to live for others, I live it for myself. I do not help anyone. I do not intend to do so. Although certain people, at certain time, may have or might benefit from my actions. But that’s purely non-intentional and also completely coincidental.

When speaking about the ‘whole’, I understand the limitations that a certain major section of it has, carries, or builds. But that’s precisely what’s it’s all about that all those limitations are but the creation of their mind, their own self. As my friend, Mrinal, phrased it up perfectly – “The defined capacity, the sphere of life beyond which they can’t tread.”

So, WHO defines the capacity but, the sphere of life beyond which they can’t tread?

Well, it’s the same person, who wants to support the cause or dedicate his or her life towards it. And if that person starts freeing himself or herself rather than restricting or limiting himself or herself with preconceived notions, conventional rules and regulations and boundaries then there would actually be no “defined capacity, the sphere of life beyond which he or she can’t tread“.

Consider this little analogy; a man is like a lion. A wild one. Angry yet calm! But at the same time restless too. He walks as if he rules the land beneath and he looks at the sky as if he is acknowledging the fact. As he should, indeed! The entire earth is his forest; he roars and with it thunders the entire vicinity, he hunts and hunts like a king ought to do – with ferocious wildness! But he does all this, while he is free. Once he is caged, behind the iron bars, for the entertainment of mass, in the name of hypocrisy born from the mass’s own greed, he is no more than a motor-operated toy. He is not there, inside that cage with his own wish or choice, but is there, forced, by outer forces. And so, he now awaits the two moments, the first of his approaching last breath and the second of reproaching hope of his freedom before his death, because he is unable to do anything else. But man isn't  he though resembles the lion, but is above him in something a lion can never have – mental superiority and the ability of rational clarity which comes from within but is realized by endurance of years and years of desire to have what he wants, what he deserves and what belongs to him – his self. His own self, or to say in simple manner – freedom. Because, no life, without a cause or purpose, irrespective of its nature, can ever attain the freedom which belongs to it and for which it longs.

Life, without it – cause or purpose, is exactly like that caged lion, who knows that freedom of wild is what he deserves but he will never have it, until he frees himself from the cage. In the similar manner, you might know what you want or deserve, but will never have it, till you make yourself wholly committed to it.

So, in my idea of Romance, if someone is voicing his or her opinion on a certain issue, say for example, the disgusting whiff coming from the gutter, it does not necessarily mean that he or she have to go literally down under the gutter to clean it. He or she can implement/execute means via his or her opinion to do so. But he or she has to be completely romantic towards it i.e. truly committed at voicing it out till it’s finally heard and done by the concerned parties/agencies/department undertaking the particular job.

In romance, what matters is that when you feel about it or for it, you be true to it, in whatever form that you find yourself drawn to it. Like for some men, when they are in love with the woman they dream about, all that matters to them is that they keep looking in her eyes. Nothing else matters. In the similar manner, if one is romantic about voicing just his or her opinion, one should just do it. And keep doing it. Continually. Voice it out. Simple. Straight. Voice. Voice. Voice and voice. Because for that person, voicing out his or her opinion, in the idea of romance, this is what will define it and the true purpose of it. That he or she be true to himself or herself and the path that he or she chose. And did not just pick it up, because the passerby was doing it or for better excuse, oh, my neighbor or the person I admire is speaking for it.

And it doesn't matter that people or organisation and governments will listen to you or there will be some concrete actions be taken upon your voicing out your opinion on the issue, however valid. But what matters and what actually should only matter is that no person, organisation or government can tell you to shut up and sit down. Because you know what you are doing and why you are doing. Because you know you are right and you have a right to voice your ‘voice’ till the time you are being true to your purpose. But, whatever you do, whatever you may oppose or support, whatever means you may take for the cause, the purpose, or your romance, should never be at the expense of other people’s life.

And that is My Idea Of Romance!

First published on Youth Ki Awaaz

Just Another Rant

By Sadho Ram

Buniyad me hi 'gar kham ho phir imaarat to kya, ek deewar tak tik nahi sakti

(No building or even a wall can sustain itself when the very foundation itself is weak then)

...and that is what's wrong with me.. you.. us... sabke saath bas ek yahi toh chij hai jo galat hai!

Our ethics are crooked, morals are twisted (at least mine are) and we're talking about upliftment of the oppressed while oppressing so many in ways we don't even care to think about, emancipation of women while enslaving the very women who're in our life, eradication of corruption while contributing to the corrupt lot in ways we don't want to talk about, and what-not!

And so a bit righteously...

Mere desh-bhakton ki aisi sajjanta se mujhe meri makkaari jyada sachi lagti hai.

(I find my trickery/treachery more honest than the holiness of my country-loving proud people)

To be very blunt, the people who talk about equal rights and respect are the most treacherous of the lot out there that I have come across! And so, as Basir Badr saab says:

"Behad sharif logon se kuchh faasla rakho!"

Keep the very noble/highborn at some distance

and to add to his philosophy, here's my bit:

...ke sharafat se jyada kamini koi chij nahi

...because there is nothing more lowly than nobleness

A Comment on The People of My Nation and Their Views on Aamir Khan for His Debut TV Show 'Satyamev Jayate'

By Sadho Ram

I just watched SATYAMEV JAYATE on YouTube, had missed out on it yesterday. I’ve been hearing a lot of people talking about it; some good and some bad as expected (for their common dislike for Aamir Khan and whatever he does). I didn't want to say anything about it till I saw. Now that I have, I do have a bit to say, although not entirely about the show itself, but about the people who have been targeting Aamir without much thinking and consideration and calling him all sorts of names and stuff.

On twitter, there's this bunch of "filmy intellectuals" who were after him since the first promo of SATYAMEV JAYATE was aired. Calling it another one of Aamir Khan's self promoting propaganda and all sorts of other things  , trying to point out to others how old he is looking on the promos and how much overacting he is doing. People even went on to joke about the way the promos are made, that in "one promo is he eating, in another he is having tea, and now what's next? Will we see him doing what we all do in the morning?"

But even now, after the show is out, with such a burning issue affecting our society, some too-smart-for-their-own-good kind of journalists and people are trying to point it out to him (Aamir) that he shouldn't have used sensationalism in the very first episode, TV is gripped with the idea of earning more and more TRPs and so people resort to such ways to garner more publicity for their shows. They further go on to say that he shouldn't have shown the story about the woman from the Muslim community whose husband literally chewed off her face for not bearing him a male child. That now the Right Wing Hindu Fundamentalists will further more attack the Muslim community and call them backwards and all that, and the Muslim community will now be seen in more wrong light than right.

To all such people and whoever are supporting them, I've one thing to say :- ‘GO EAT YOUR OWN SHIT!’

As far as the show is concerned, it’s not about his method acting or how good he is at what he does. Hell, the show is not even about him. It’s primarily about the issues affecting our society at large. He is just someone who being in a place, where people usually don’t actually bother about such issues and choose to ignore them and live their life happily forever, has choose to come out and speak about them to the nation at large. He is just a medium who is trying to bring the burning issues affecting Indian society to public eye and make them realize where they are going wrong or what needs to be done in order to make things right.

Have some decency, my fellow countrymen. Have some regard for a well intentioned effort. Have some respect for those rare few who actually bother to come out of their comfortable lives and try to make sense of things we sadly don’t seem to care about and make things right.

#Edited by: Rabia Mehta

A Note on Mob!

By Sadho Ram

What is mob? It is probably the scariest place to be in. No matter which part of the world, a mob is what it is – a mob. It, the mob, is the epitome of recklessness, which a huge pile of the humans over humans over mindlessness of nothing signifies. Blind and deaf, foolhardy and arrogant, devoid of ethics and morals, derailed from any logic and reason, it just shoves itself in and against everything whenever it so wishes, whenever it’s provoked, in whatsoever circumstances. It acts on whims. It operates on nothing but whims. And only whims alone in it set its goals.

Image Courtesy Google

A mob is every society’s worst nightmare, representing its hypocritical stature. The purpose of which is to just make noise, the force of which is to just create ruckus. Agreed that oftentimes a mob has thrown a dictator out, but what after that? The very Mob fades away, falls down too. And in manners that it has never been able to rise again, ever. Only ashes remain.

On a personal note, I’ve never seen a mob with a cause worthy of the fury it exhales and the rage in which it becomes a horde of savages. The barbarism with which a mob unleashes itself unto anything and everything that falls within the limit of its reach and ravages the very core of the victims who become subjected to its mindless madness, leaves nothing for the mind to grasp. What remains behind, after the proud march of the mob, remains forever behind rotting and hissing in pain, whether it is a village, a city, a shop, a community or a woman. No one cares after that, no soul bothers to look behind. A mob then fades away into oblivion, only to resurface in some other corner of the earth. Like bubbles bursting in the hot tub of water, a mob bursts at one spot, creates turbulence, sets off and then bursts again at another, never letting the water to remain still.

“And the calm serenity of the water on the surface and beneath is forever disturbed, forever lost.”

Our country today is going through one such turbulence, which threatens to disrupt the otherwise normalcy that surrounds us. In past, there have been numerous mobs, causing innumerable amount of unfathomable damages to the very soul and spirit of the nation. But never before in the history of mobs, have been a mob as moronically arrogant and as childish in its caricaturish behaviour as such that of Old Anna’s. Yes, Anna Hazare is nothing but a mob. Heady in his stance against the Government’s stand on JAN LOKPAL BILL, he has taken the nation by a blind storm, causing baseless uproar for the so-called call for democracy where he himself seems to have transformed into a dictator.

Every man, woman, child and dog following Old Anna in his magnanimous  “August Kranti” march must not forget that such hysterical approaches only yield spineless results, which are born out of an another kind of hysteria. One which justifies nothing, signifies nothing, takes away a lot, giving out nothing. What remains in the platter is so worthless that it matters not anymore, even a bit. And that’s what is going to happen to the proposed JAN LOKPAL BILL, which, since it was first introduced by Shanti Bhushan in 1968, has today turned 43 years old. Since then its 9 consequent versions have been introduced and re-introduced but sadly none of these have ever passed.

And in the scuffle of Anna & Government, where both seems to be happily satisfied by their own self indulgence on the subject, utterly disregarding the constitution, fighting over it, I doubt this BILL too will ever be passed.

“A nation will never rise on the fury of a mob. And where a mob decides the fate of the dawn and dusk of a nation, everything becomes ash and in the distant horizon only thing rising is smoke.”

Corruption as Metaphor

By Sadho Ram

Originally written for YKA, an online media blog. Publishing it here on ARTH, just to make it available to readers who are not aware of YKA.

Corruption, though always prevalent everywhere, but somehow over the years have become synonym with India’s name, and in 2010 it has established itself as India’s official ruling force or …party (I guess I’ve this much of liberty to write in whatever hypocrisy…err I mean, democracy is left in our country today). And Corruption is what it is. An Identity! Therefore, I’m most corrupt. (You’ll know why I’m stating this. Just read on).

Image Courtesy Google

Not a day goes by, when there’s even one news headline that says that yesterday was a corruption free day. No scams were discovered. Government offices and officers worked without bribe. Traffic constable did not stop a helmet wearing and under-speed riding biker and did not fine him for something that he wasn’t doing. That the recently constructed bridge suddenly did not come down because instead of poor quality iron rods, there were superior qualities used, or the ongoing metro work was not postponed because the issue of non-payment of the workers was cleared. Not a single day. It’s all in just fantasy. And while we keep dreaming about all this, our public-appointed and (some) self-appointed guardians indulge in those games uglier than shitholes of a slum and messier than the garbage canisters of a posh colony. (I’m telling ya… these two are the worst places you’ll wanna fall into).

And while my Editor-in-Chief wants me to write about the top political scams happened in India during 2010, I somehow see no point in it. But still, I’m writing (though not entirely what he wanted. You see now, why I stated above that I’m most corrupt? I’m not doing the job I was asked to). Maybe because, like our politicians, who might not want to be included in the metaphor on their own but are somehow reluctantly keen to be part of it. Why? Maybe, they see it, the Corruption, as a larger symbol than the metaphor itself. Or maybe, they are just plain greedy (as you will plainly agree) and are simply having a jolly grand time stuffing away your hard-earned-tax-paid money. Maybe something else! But who knows? And most importantly, who cares? While it, the scams happen, noises rise. Groups are formed. Inquires run. RTIs and PILs are filed. The official representative of that organisation, involved in that particular scam, gets his or her profile and job axed. While some random officer is picked up and put behind bars. Public rage turns into euphoria. Media starts praising the same it was blaming a few hours ago and so on. And the one, the King of the Kong, the executioner, the Chanakya of cunningness, is having the last laugh, while also foreseeing all those future possibilities where he, she or they, as collective force, will again have the same old but still grand last laugh, at the cost of all those who themselves, in their own greed for a so called promised land and twisted ideologies based on some ancient theory, have appointed him, her or them as their collective ruler.

I call this chaos. Perfect, precise, and fulfilling its purpose to the level of utter equality. Like you eat, you shit and then to clean it, you flush, wipe or pay yourself (depending on the type of life-style you are leading). Because at the end…err I mean, beginning of the day, it is after all your mess, and you ought to yourself or pay to clean it. So in the same manner, you chose them, the one now eating away all the butter made from your bloody/bloodier sweat, and alongside asking you to say – “cheese”. There’s literally nothing you and I can do, except about venting out our anger (Literary Expression in my case. Come on, give me that much of space. Will ya? Thank you!) But there are ways. Some real ways! Not all those just high-talk ways. Though, I’m afraid, that I can’t write them here in this Opinion openly. But I’ll give you some glimpses. Some subtle hints!

Like what you do, when that tiny little tree inside that intricately designed pot, made with earthly attributes, kept in the balcony of your home (provided you have one. No, no, not the home, the intricately designed pot, made with earthly attributes, with that tiny little tree), starts to rot? Yes, rot. Not dry, but rot. What? What exactly do you do?

I don’t know about you, but I immediately pluck it out of that…that intricately designed pot, made with earthly attributes, and throw it as far as I could, with a force sometime, even not familiar to me.

But I know what most possessors often do. They keep watering it. With a hope! Yes, with that so called most famous word in the English dictionary, they keep watering it with a blind hope that someday it will become what it was. Pure! Un-corrupt!

I call them escapists. You can call them illusionary.

Because, no amount of persistence, however willing, can reverse that cycle where the tree, though still growing, but is rotting! Of course, until forcedly stopped. So, if you really want to get rid of this metaphor, you know what you have to do. And if you are not clear then enjoy dude (gal?), because this metaphor of – I am most corrupt – is not meant for you.

Ayodhya Verdict: Will You Follow To Kill Or Lead To Build?

By Sadho Ram

किस काम के मंदिर मस्जिद, किस काम के हैं गुरूद्वारे,

इस देश के बे-घर बच्चे, जब फिरते हैं मारे-मारे,

I have no idea who was that wise man (woman?) who penned these pleading lines, but they sure are the apt representation of our nation, where millions of kids today are either forced, dumped or born to live a homeless life.

People are dying of hunger here, and all we want to do is to build mosques and temples, and for what reason?

Not to offer prayer, not even to read namaaz, but to prove some stupid claim over some stupid land, for which thousands of people have lost their lives and probably millions are on the verge of losing it, again.

Come September 28, 2010, at 10:30 am, the apex court will (supposedly) hear the (final) verdict on half a century old Ayodhya land dispute.

At the time, when we are supposedly suppose to have been completely evolved as human beings, and accept each other as we are, spread not only the message but also the peace to people of other religion and nation, and build a system where no one dies of hunger, and for that matter sleep on streets, what we are doing is fighting over religions and individual’s personally derived (twisted) meaning of its “peace.”

We, instead of building stone structures which we can call as “homes” and put the ones who are in desperate need of it, are fighting to build those stone structures which we fondly address as mosques and temples and place stone carved statues and tombs in it.

What a mighty sad time for the entire human race, who has become disgustingly repulsive at its want to have what it wants at any cost, no matter even if the cost is its own destruction.

But all is not lost in this want for another ‘excuse’ to kill each other. On the one hand where a section of this society of ours is desperately waiting to bring out their knives and swords and start wielding it on fellow human beings, another section of this same society of ours is trying to keep the ‘bond’ between humans intact.

“Around 15 Muslim families in the Asharfi Bhawan area of Ayodhya, some 150 km from Lucknow, have been involved in making floral garlands and decorative offerings for Hindu devotees for the last several decades.

Asked what they think about the much-awaited verdict in the long-pending title suit Friday, Muslim artisans said irrespective of the outcome of the judgement they would continue with their business to help Hindus.

"We just pray for peace and believe the judgement will not affect Hindu-Muslim brotherhood and unity," Sartaj added."

Like you (who is reading this) I too, don’t know what will the judgement be, but whatever it may be, one thing is for sure that there’s going to be lots of smoke in the air. Now it is not inevitable, it can be stopped, but the question is WHO? WHEN?

You? Me?

Of course, WE, no one else, but WE!

Now it is up to us that whether we get influenced and spread venom or inspire and transform lives, whether we become the follower and tarnish the bond or lead and make it stronger, whether we become the swords and kill our brothers and sisters or pillars of support those who are in desperate need of us.

So it’s very important that we choose, but what’s more important is that we choose wisely.

Thank you for your time, and (hopefully) for your understanding. You are welcome to post your comments in the comment box below. Please feel free to express yourself.


The article also appeared as featured news in the online media site - Youth Ki Awaaz

Of Minority and Of Majority [and Special Treatment]

By Sadho Ram

A few days ago, Youth Ki Awaaz asked a very important question about giving special treatment to celebrities in regards of their auspicious visit to religious places.

My answer was in favour of it (and it still is). But before making your mind regarding anything, I will suggest that you read the entire piece.

Now be it the minority (celebrity) or the majority (common man), before being anything the people in these two inevitable categories of all time are human first, and as far as I remember, the saying that I’ve heard is goes something like this that “every human is equal in the eyes of God” and so the logical reaction would be that why should the minority be given special treatment and the majority, who actually is responsible for making the minority a minority (celebrity), be kept away from it?

But, this is not about being logical; it’s all about being a bit sensible. Yes, that’s all it’s really about and believe me (if only you want to) it is for a greater good.

And have you ever thought about this neglected phenomenon that refuses to inspire the majority in spite of its widespread success in not only inside our country but in every country worldwide, that ‘this’ is the only minority that receives such gigantic amount of love and (in some parts and cases) respect from the majority? Funny it is, but it’s also the sad part of that truth which we all fail to see.

Anyways, I will not indulge in any further observation so to give you the idea that I’m drifting away from the subject.

So, as we all know that how 'fond' we all are of ‘this’ minority class, and we literally 'rob' (and in some places) ‘rape’ the people from this class (not in the sense in which the ‘real’ minority classes are being raped and robbed) if we get a slightest of chance to even touch them.

For instance: A few days ago, a very prominent person of this class was shooting at my college premises in Mumbai and he was supposed to be there for about 3 and half days, but due to the extra dose of love that was showered onto him from the people of majority class that he wrapped up his shoot in 2 days and ran off, also cancelling the 1 hour special interaction with the college students that he was supposed to be part of.

And the people from majority class, instead of comprehending the situation, started blaming him. Why? Because he cancelled the time that he had promised he would give them. But why did he do that? What prompted him to cancel the special interaction that he himself had promised?

Well, nobody was in mood to think about all these sensible questions, because they were logically pissed that the one whom they love so much couldn’t understand their feelings. But did they try to understand that they did not let him ‘work’ and subsequently he was forced to do what he did. After all, he too, is a human being. Like them, he too, needs to work in order to earn his living. Now is he supposed to abandon all his work and start satisfying their wishes just because they love him?

We get to read, see on news in TVs as to what happens when the celebrities come out in public to either promote their film or do some social or personal work, and the above mentioned case is just one such example of it.

And a week ago there were reports that a very famous star and his bodyguards got into scuffle with public in Hyderabad city during the promotion of his latest Hindi flick. Now when a star is not sparred even when he is out to promote his film so we all can imagine the kind of ‘treatment’ he will get when he visits any religious place, which then invariably makes the question of special treatment for them necessary.

Here I am not suggesting that they should be treated specially just because they are celebrities, but not giving them an 'isolated' way OUT and IN can result in a lot of trouble for both, the public and the celebrity. Often times there have been cases of huge stampedes when a star comes out in public, and lots of people have lost their lives in many such cases, also causing damage to public property in their rage.

Now this may not go down well with few but if anyone from majority class is not comfortable with this idea of “giving special treatment to celebrities upon their visit to religious places” then they have to stop thinking that the celebrities are their personal gifted toy of joy, which they can 'hug' as tightly as they want to.

We are human, and so a little bit of sensitivity and a sense of giving space, if starts existing in us, (because we are human and these two characteristics can exists only in human) then there wouldn't be any need for any special treatment for anybody. Be it the people from minority or the majority.

Thank you for reading till here. Now you are free to think what you want to think. And I would love to know your thinking in the comment box below.

We the People, the State Bihar, and the Irony behind its Misery [An Opinion]

By Sadho Ram


Bihar, with its most varied history in India, was once the centre of power, learning and culture for more than 1000 years. In fact, India's first empire, the Maurya Empire as well as one of the world's greatest anti-violence religions - the Buddhism - arose from the region that now makes modern Bihar, a centre of extreme violence, culturally backward and to the very extent a powerless state of modern India.

What an irony, once hailed for its greatness now literally in hell for its abjectness!

Today almost 58 percent of Biharis are below the age of 25, which is the highest proportion in India, making Bihar, as of today, the house of YOUTHS.

But Bihar today, lags behind the other Indian states in terms of human and economic development.

The Economists and Social Scientists claim that this is a direct result of the distorted policies of the Central Government, such as the freight equalisation policy and its apathy towards Bihar, along with the lack of Bihari sub-nationalism and the permanent settlement of 1793 by the British East India Company.

-       The Freight Equalisation Policy was adopted in 1948 by the Indian Government to smooth the progress of the equal development of industry all over the country. This meant a factory could be set up anywhere in India and transportation of minerals would be subsidised by the Central Government. And as an outcome, the policy resulted in the expansion of heavy and middle level industry in the post-independence years outside the mineral-rich regions of the country. The coastal states of Maharashtra and Gujarat along with Delhi and its surrounding districts were the greatest beneficiaries. Industrialists interested in setting up plants anywhere in the country – Maharashtra, Gujarat, Delhi etc. – would get Coal, Iron Ore, Aluminium etc. at the same price as they used to get in Bihar (now Jharkhand), West Bengal, Chhattisgarh or Orissa. But along with benefiting other Non-Mineral-Rich States of the Country, the policy resulted in literally destroying the vastly Mineral-Rich States. The worst sufferer of this policy was West Bengal, the undivided Bihar (now Jharkhand) and to some extent Orissa and Madhya Pradesh (now Chhattisgarh carved out from it). West Bengal and Bihar’s huge competitive advantage of holding the minerals got destroyed as now factories were set up everywhere else but in these particular mineral-rich states. This was not the case in the pre-independence era when Tatas and Dalmias etc. had to come and set up industries in Bihar and most of the engineering industry was located in the state of West Bengal. The Freight Equalisation Policy thus continues to destroy states like West Bengal and Bihar even after more than half century of Independence.

During the freedom struggle, Bihar was an important part of it and Gandhi became the mass leader only after the Champaran Satyagraha (Champaran is a historic region and a district in Bihar).

But the irony behind Bihar’s misery is that it is cursed, and cursed not by the ones who don’t even belong to it but by the ones who were once not only born and brought up in here but also happens to be the very part of it till today.

It is this sheer hypocrisy of these thankless and loathing people who have and continue to condemn Bihar for the fault and crime it never actually and deliberately did.

For people must understand that it is not a state which commits sins or kills the very people who belong to it, no, a state is not and should not be held liable or responsible for the crimes and even the good things that the people living in it do.

But alas when it comes to Bihar, the entire human race fails to understand this basic concept that a state doesn’t make its people, as it is the very people who live in it and out of it that makes it a state a state.

I, myself am a Bihari i.e. born in Bihar. So does it make me a BAD man? Or am I to be labelled as a BHAIYA simply because I was born in the land of milkman’s?

Well, call it arrogance or attitude of a Bihari BHAIYA but I refuse to accept such dumb reasons because I find it completely bizarre and it is also wrong to label people simply based on the states that they come from.

Isn’t this being RACIST (labelling and discriminating people on the basis of states)? 


This Article was previously published in an online newspaper Youth Ki Awaaz as featured news.


Article Source:
Wikipedia

Untitled!

By Sadho Ram

He pounced on her, in his quest to strip her off her tender skin just as he had stripped every single piece of cloth off her body, ignoring her muffled voice, engulfed in his own false pride; he continued the vicious demonstration of his manliness on her.

“But Pa, I like someone else” – she tried to make him understand.

“That doesn't mean I’m going to let you do what you want and spoil my status in society” – he at once declared his intentions.

She, on the other hand, lay there, beneath him, motion-&-emotionless. Her eyes looking almost blank, almost close to being tear-less too, but the pain that this ‘love-making’ was causing has filled her with a shame she has been feeling since her ‘first’ night and it would often reach its limits, which only her eyes were capable of expressing. The eyes which used to shimmer with light of life, the eye which once housed thousands of dreams, today those same eyes did not even had tears to call their own. Paleness was their only companion and nothing gave them solace anymore, nothing.

Our Ragini (yes, that’s what we are going to call her from now on) had never felt so helpless in her entire life. She could not fathom as to what to do to make things right. She wanted to cry, shout at the top of her voice, probably to that extent that will make her ears go numb. But she couldn't even utter a sigh, though she tried, but all she could muster up was her own silence; silence which frightened her, made her miserable, her own silence.

Wherever his hands touched her body, they left their marks there, part red, part brown, and with each mark, came a numbing screech from her those furiously bleeding lips; the same lips which once were as tender as petals of a blood red rose and seemed almost rose like when the Sun showered his silvery rays upon them, the same lips today seemed lifeless, almost, as if trying to breath their last before they would be freed from the pain, but freedom doesn't come easily, and freedom from pain can only be experienced in dreams, real life option is just not viable. But dreams have long ago abandoned her paled eyes, and so her lips kept enduring the pain while her eyes tried to reflect it, trying but failing at last.

“You still standing here? Go, go and get ready. Harish’s family are on their way.” – He said while looking up from the newspaper and got back to it.

He kept shoving himself inside her. After he was done, satisfying his own pride and the falseness of it, he spat on her looking at her with disgust, and when his disgust grew, he kicked her hard, hard enough to throw her off the bed. He then dozed off to sleep, after all this was his daily routine, a physical exercise, which provided him with a night of peaceful sleep.

“I don’t care.” – She said trying to sound as firm as she could.

“It doesn't matter to me. You will do what I said.” – He uttered in rage, his eyes filled with contempt for her, his own daughter.

Ragini knew nothing would deter his stern father from his decision. At that moment she missed her mother. She somehow had this feeling deep down inside her that if her mother would have been alive, she would have understood her.

She lay there just as she was after being kicked off the bed, even though an hour had passed, close to being senseless, covered in her own blood, over the concrete floor, her bare body trying to take solace from the cold surface of it, her dried up eyes slowly fading off, and she trying to fall sleep so that she could go back to her past.

“But what’s wrong with him? He is a well educated man, works in a good company… if that’s your concern… then he will keep me happy, pa.” – She once again tried to make him see how badly she wanted him.

This was the moment that Raghuveer Singh looked up from the newspaper, took off his specks and spoke in a tone Ragini had never knew her dear father possessed.

“He is a Muslim, a bloody fucking Muslim, and that’s what wrong with him. I don’t give a damn if he is well educated or not or works in some big-shot company. At the end of the day he is what he is … a bloody Muslim.”

Her mornings were more miserable than her nights. They were murkier than the murkiest of nights. They were, in fact, now devoid of any Sun or even hope of it. Every morning, after waking up, she found herself screaming, raucously. That gory hole in between her legs torn with dried up blood spots all around it. The hole which had inflated in all these years, but still, it kept tearing up, night after night, throbbing, morning after morning. She wished to fold her legs, hold close to her chest, but afraid, in fact so afraid that she couldn't even try it in her thoughts too, fearing it might amplify the throbbing and a fresh river of blood would ooze out from the pores.

His face had turned almost red and his eyes only had hatred in them.

“…and from the day I came to know you seeing a bloody Muslim, you or your happiness, nothing meant anything to me. All that matters now is what I want. So get this in your head; you are going to say YES to Harish. Now go and get ready.”

She couldn't bring herself to believe all that she was hearing. Her own father despised her, and for what? For loving a guy from another caste, or was it the past?

She woke up, same as the previous morning, screaming, her face swollen, aching, the part below her abdomen, torn, hurting even more. She tried to scratch the concrete floor with her broken nails, trying, as if to savour the pain, yes, savour; after all she was used to it now, after all these years of continuously being ‘raped’, she had finally given herself up. ‘Better get used to it’ – she often thought.

It’s not like she wanted to live, but she couldn't die either. She wasn't that brave, no, she just couldn't bring herself up to kill her own self, just like she couldn't bring herself up, in the past, as to how to think through the denial of her father and go her own way. Because if only she could, she wouldn't be today what she is – a whore. The only difference her ‘customer’ was not some new stranger every night but her own husband, who was living up to his promise, night after night, he made to her father.

“Don’t worry, uncle, I know how to get that bloody Muslim out of her head. I promise, she will curse herself for loving that filthy piece of shit, that bloody Muslim.”

And Raghuveer Singh’s eyes had beamed with light. Knowing that his pride will be restored, he couldn't control the smile that flashed at his lips, he felt relieved at the assurance that the culprit will be punished. After all she has to be, she did the crime. Crime of falling in love, but the most heinous one, she fell for a bloody Muslim. The same Muslims who had taken away his wife from him, the woman he loved more than anything, the woman who meant everything to him, and he couldn't do anything. Why? Because it was the fury of a mob, which came like a wild thunder and took away his shelter of solace, his companion around whom he had build his nest. And mob has no face, no identity. It do not leave its traces, no one recognizes a mob. Only thing recognizable is the purpose, the rage that forms a mob, the hatred that makes a mob a mob. And sometime the religion which gathers dust and turns it into a stone. Yes, as hard as stone, a mob is but a stone with no eyes to see, no ears to hear, only purpose to hit, whoever comes in front, hit, not to hurt, but to kill.

But he knew. He knew the religion of that mob. He knew that it was Muslim mob. He knew faces which formed that mob, and he was well aware of the identity behind those faces, each one of them. In fact they were still so fresh in his memory, that even after 8 years, he could recognize them, in the streets, in that train compartment which he boarded daily for his office, and he could hear their voices, whispering, but he was helpless. He wanted to shoot each one of them, and he would do it daily, in his dreams, yes, because he knew he couldn't in real life.

Ah, no, he wasn't a coward. He was, in fact, worse. He too, was the mob. A mob against a mob, human against humans, against humanity, against peace, against everything that once united them; Hindus and Muslims, Diwali and Eid, Holi and Baqrid, Sewai and Kheer, Aadaabs and Namastes, Praathna and Ajaan. In fact, a world was torn into two, divided.

Why?

The Mob; and no mob have a face or identity. It do not leave its traces, no one recognizes a mob. Only thing recognizable is the purpose, the rage that forms a mob, the hatred that makes a mob a mob. And sometime the religion which gathers dust and turns it into a stone. Yes, as hard as stone, a mob is but a stone with no eyes to see, no ears to hear, only purpose to hit, whoever comes in front, hit, not to hurt, but to kill, to destroy, to divide.

And the ‘mob’ had written our Ragini’s fate, a fate even she couldn't deny. How could she? She wasn't the part of any mob. She was the spectator, a spectator who would become a victim in the future.

Author's Note: This story is an attempt to remember all those women who were denied their share of happiness, their choice of life, what they wanted, and were pushed into a life worse than any death could have been, and for what? In the name of religion, caste, pride, status and don’t know what more. I apologize for the words that I’ve used in this story, but let me assure you that they were just used to depict and provoke the right emotions. But if you think my attempt was deliberate, then please bear with my ignorance.