I've chosen a fairly dark time to give in to the trend of blogging. I'm not certain it's the thing for me but then, I wasn't certain that Bombay would ever be rechristened Mumbai. As the title 'The Devil's Advocate' suggests, I shall try to go against the tide. Nothing revolutionary about it in this been-there-done-that world. I've been listening to a lot of the shouting, chanting, moaning, mourning and in between that, a few sensible suggestions, brave motions and inspired speeches. Given that most people's emotions are at peak levels right now, this can either be the right time to actually accomplish something of value or it can be an opportunity for damage. Either way, an ACTION will occur, thereby satisfying people's need 'to do something.'
Most of us are fairly aware of what really happens in big cities. During the July 2005 London bombings, I remember friends suddenly huddling, discussing Muslim colleagues, people suddenly on the lookout for 'less cosmopolitan creches' (translation: where there aren't any Muslim kids) and things of that nature. In India, there were slogans of 'Pakistan Chor Hai' across the Plaza at the Gateway of India, on December 3, 2008. The protests reach the ears of the media, local and national governments. A few heads are rolled, only to be replaced by other useless heads. The youth brigade says we must take up cudgels, respond to the need of the hour, contest elections and make a difference. Ten years later, people are still talking about Hindu versus Muslim, women are still raped in police stations and policemen's widows are still begging for their compensation.
This may sound cynical but in sixty years, for every advancement that India has made, we have taken two steps backwards. Scour the Internet, the library or your old journals and you will be forced to admit this truth to yourselves. The fact is that we are our own worst enemy. Why worry about Pakistan and Bangladesh when we willingly surrender ourselves to the viciously charming demon we call religion? I realise that in a country like India where religion rules supreme, where a failing god is raised upon the shoulders of dead soldiers, this is a great offence. To actually come out and say, religion is a gun through which bullets are ceaselessly fired. Of course it is a tool. Of course it is abused. Of course it is potent. Is Pakistan to be blamed for what we do to ourselves? Is Pakistan to be blamed for the women we rape and parade in our streets? How would you distinguish to a mother who has lost a son in senseless communal violence from one whose son was killed by a bullet that came from a terrorist's gun? Isn't the former a worse thing? How will you tell a father that his daughter wasn't killed by a bomb but was burnt to death by her own husband for money?
Let's stop all this pretence. For once, let's be brutally honest. We failed. We failed ourselves and our country. We are gutless and we don't know the first thing about logic and courage. We don't. We think we are intelligent because we speak a couple of languages and can read signs on an Autobahn. We think we have the right to shriek because it's happened at our doorstep. We think we look pretty by candle-light and so we march on surrounded by pools of wax. We think we are in mourning for the people who have died. We are not. We are only assuaging our heaving breasts. We will not forget, maybe. But we don't really know what to do beyond the rage. Let's for once, be brutally honest. Honesty is the first step that lets you take stock and really think. Think about what you can and cannot do. Otherwise in ten years, we will all be back at square one. Shaking our heads in cynical disbelief that nothing changed despite the one thousand supposed movements and organisations. Take a leaf from the ones who work quietly. From the ones who soldier on and who correct their own prejudices before hammering the doors of a neighbour who won't listen.
I am not a solution-giver. Because I don't know what to do right now. But I can admit that. And I can tell you that sometimes it's okay to say I don't know but I won't contribute to the aimless noise.
Most of us are fairly aware of what really happens in big cities. During the July 2005 London bombings, I remember friends suddenly huddling, discussing Muslim colleagues, people suddenly on the lookout for 'less cosmopolitan creches' (translation: where there aren't any Muslim kids) and things of that nature. In India, there were slogans of 'Pakistan Chor Hai' across the Plaza at the Gateway of India, on December 3, 2008. The protests reach the ears of the media, local and national governments. A few heads are rolled, only to be replaced by other useless heads. The youth brigade says we must take up cudgels, respond to the need of the hour, contest elections and make a difference. Ten years later, people are still talking about Hindu versus Muslim, women are still raped in police stations and policemen's widows are still begging for their compensation.
This may sound cynical but in sixty years, for every advancement that India has made, we have taken two steps backwards. Scour the Internet, the library or your old journals and you will be forced to admit this truth to yourselves. The fact is that we are our own worst enemy. Why worry about Pakistan and Bangladesh when we willingly surrender ourselves to the viciously charming demon we call religion? I realise that in a country like India where religion rules supreme, where a failing god is raised upon the shoulders of dead soldiers, this is a great offence. To actually come out and say, religion is a gun through which bullets are ceaselessly fired. Of course it is a tool. Of course it is abused. Of course it is potent. Is Pakistan to be blamed for what we do to ourselves? Is Pakistan to be blamed for the women we rape and parade in our streets? How would you distinguish to a mother who has lost a son in senseless communal violence from one whose son was killed by a bullet that came from a terrorist's gun? Isn't the former a worse thing? How will you tell a father that his daughter wasn't killed by a bomb but was burnt to death by her own husband for money?
Let's stop all this pretence. For once, let's be brutally honest. We failed. We failed ourselves and our country. We are gutless and we don't know the first thing about logic and courage. We don't. We think we are intelligent because we speak a couple of languages and can read signs on an Autobahn. We think we have the right to shriek because it's happened at our doorstep. We think we look pretty by candle-light and so we march on surrounded by pools of wax. We think we are in mourning for the people who have died. We are not. We are only assuaging our heaving breasts. We will not forget, maybe. But we don't really know what to do beyond the rage. Let's for once, be brutally honest. Honesty is the first step that lets you take stock and really think. Think about what you can and cannot do. Otherwise in ten years, we will all be back at square one. Shaking our heads in cynical disbelief that nothing changed despite the one thousand supposed movements and organisations. Take a leaf from the ones who work quietly. From the ones who soldier on and who correct their own prejudices before hammering the doors of a neighbour who won't listen.
I am not a solution-giver. Because I don't know what to do right now. But I can admit that. And I can tell you that sometimes it's okay to say I don't know but I won't contribute to the aimless noise.
2 comments:
I fully agree with what you have written. Time has come that we stop looking back and strat looking ahead..... Use the greatness and verstality of thgis country for the progress of this great Nation and not otherwise. Lets not forget this time, lets not forgive this time and MAKE A DIFFERENCE" Start from me, myself. Make a change in your attitude in your life and the world will follow.
Aarti Irani
I do think that the not knowing what to do is the co relation between venting our frustrations and getting directly involved with a movement or an organization. Yes, this is a repeated pattern over the years and our sheer helplessness attitiude is working against us. As you said, how is this time any different?
At the cost of sounding like an Urbanite, I will say that we have to also use the power of money to voice the change that we deserve. It's not entirely impossible. After all money is the root cause of all evil politicians.
Let the powerful lead the way on everyone's behalf and reinstate a secure and accountable system that will protect a mother from losing her son in communal violence and all the other horrific atrocities that exist. Fear the law and not terrorists! This time was simply too close to home and a very rude awakening! How many more " reality cheques" do we need..?
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