A Dark Day.

Damini, Amanath, Nirbhaya... different people christened her her differently. In the end, she stood for one and only one thing- The urge, the will, to overcome the worst and be hopeful for a better life. How many people are out there who believe nothing could good can ever happen with them. Who feel there's nothing worth living for in their life. One failed relationship. One bad exam. And you feel as if your life has ended. As if there's no better thing in the world. Learn from this girl. In her last few days, in a way she became a symbol of hope. She taught everyone, what is it to live. She wanted to live. She had dreams of a better future.

And to honor that dream, to honor the brave soul, the least we can do is make sure this moment doesn't die down. Not in a long time have In a city like Delhi, infamous for being rude and cold and what not, have I seen such solidarity for anyone. This is a movement for change. For Hope. For a better society. And for humanity.

It's time we change the mentality of those who believe they can violate a person so brutally  and still get away . Capital punishment, newer stringent laws are nothing but a psychological safe-guard. It's indeed sad that in the midst of all the protests and lathi-charge, tear gas, unprecedented crowd, we hear of girls being raped in Kalkaji, in Patiala, the latter victim being driven to commit suicide because of the attitude of the police. It's sad to hear that on Saturday, 80% of calls to Police about molestation came from India Gate. Is this how things will change. Women are not safe for the leering eyes of these detestable men even in a such a protest.

Indian society is a many headed monster. You sever one head, and the rest shall continue to live. The outlook of the society is what is needed to be changed. There's no one solution. The male dominated patriarchal character of society, where sons are brought up to believe they are superior, the mass-illiteracy. The lack of sense of duty among the police personnel. And the general insensitivity of the people, everything contributes to this chaos and anarchy.

That girl and her friend were lying naked on the ground for close to 2 hours before they were shifted to Safdurjang. Where was this sense of solidarity then? Oh yes, 200 people did assemble to see the drama unfold. Of course!

Naare lagane se kuch nahi hota boss. Untill you want the change to come. People have been a part of this protest just to get even with the Police personnel. Girls have been molested in the crowd. The setup for Republic Day has been disturbed. Police and media vans stoned. People have been hurt. A cop has died.

Violence is not the answer to anything,

The horror she lived through is unimaginable. The brutality of it. You shudder even at the thought of it. I hope no one ever has to live through it again. Ever again. In a sense, it's good she didn't make it. Her life would have been scared forever. I hope she's gone to a better world. I hope, no one has the same fate as her, ever again.

RIP Brave Girl. A symbol of hope.

Retrospection.

Dark clouds were gathered outside. Inside, the mood was gloomy. It was obvious something was on his mind. That something was bothering him. The usual spring in the step was missing, the confidence gone. He had sat silently for most part of the day in the class. Not looking at anyone, keeping to himself. On the few occasions his friends had tried to engage him, he had merely shrugged. ‘Better be left alone.’ One of them had commented.
He knew he was distracted. He knew he was bothered. He wanted to vent it all out. But he knew no one would understand. He would be typecast as the ‘bad guy.’ How long would it last? How long would he be able to cope up with the feeling of helplessness and frustration before bursting out? He had been trying to focus on what the Professors were saying ever since the morning, trying harder than he had ever in his life. But every time, he would get swept away by a gloomy brooding train of thoughts. Trying hard to figure what had gone wrong. Trying to pinpoint exactly where things fell apart.
But was it the right thing to do? Was he over-reacting? Why did he feel as if he was losing control over his life? Why was he feeling lost and confused? So many questions… He looked around himself, as if hoping answers would magically appear. And then he saw her. Chirpy, bumbling, excited… as usual. Smiling. Smiling…. She noticed him looking at her, and then quickly turned away. What was she thinking? Once again, he lost all sense of time.

*****On the first day, he saw her.
And was smitten instantly. There was something about her that made her stand out of the crowd. Was it her dressing- black jean, yellow razor back and a black jacket? Or the innocence in her kohl-lined eyes? Perhaps it was her inconspicuous smile. It had to be the smile, the one she always wore. But he was never able to figure it out. He would never be, for something’s cannot be explained. For something’s can only be felt. For him, it was one of those things. And it was surprising, considering he had just come off a stormy relationship. Just when he had started to believe he would never feel it again, here was a girl who had threatened to turn his world upside down, inside out. 
He had just settled down-on the back benches- with his new friends, promises of an exciting year ahead. The white-washed air conditioned room was brimming with people. Freshers, every one of them, were milling about. Random talks flew thick and fast in the air. Rapports were being formed, groups being created. The guys were checking out the chicks. Apprehensions of being subjected to ragging. In short, it was the regular first day of college.
Engrossed in the discussions, recounting incidences from school life, he noticed her walking into the class for the first time. For a while, she was the only one he could see. And then, she turned, and settled down. He felt something stir inside him. He felt the strange urge to go up to her and talk. Talk about anything. Talk about random stuff. Just talk. But he did not move******

The hour changed, the professor came. Students settled in their seats nosily. It was a full five minutes before order was restored. He eyed her. She was thinking about where to sit. Undecided. Contemplating. The chair beside him was unoccupied. ‘Would she come and sit here?’ he thought, fervently hoping she would. He looked at her intently, as if willing her to listen to his thoughts. She seemed to make a move for where he was sitting, then changed her mind and went and sat in the opposite direction. Silence ensued as everyone waited for the professor to say something. He opened the register, turned to a fresh page, and waited for her to dictate the notes. Playing lightly with the pen he held, he turned slightly to look over to where she was sitting. She was talking to the guy sitting next to her. The teacher began speaking. His hands moved to jot down the first few words, and then…

*****He was in the metro, going back home. His friends stood around him.
‘So, we’re Facebook friends now.’ Said one of them. He was tall, skinny and had a strange elegance about him.
‘Ah huh? Koi ni, I’ll send her a request abhi.’ He said, took out his phone, and with five taps, reached her profile. ‘Friend Request sent.’ He said with a grin.
‘It remains to be seen if she’ll accept your request.’ Retorted one of them. ‘I doubt she even knows you.’
He thought for a minute, and then said with a swagger, ‘I won’t give her a choice.’*****

His friend tapped at him. ‘Why are you not writing? She’s been staring at you for some time now,’ he leaned in and whispered, referring to the professor. He nodded at his friend in a disconcerting manner, and tried to pick what the teacher was saying. She was talking about the Class Division according to ancient Brahmanical texts. He knew about the topic. He remembered having read something sometime. He tried concentrating for a few minutes before realising it was futile and gave up. He shifted in his seat a little so that the person in front shielded him from the glaring stares of the professor, and once again let himself to be drifted away by his thoughts.

*****So I see you have not accepted my friend request, he inboxed her a full two weeks after he had first sent her the friend request. She hadn't accepted it all this time even when she had been coming online and talking to his other friends.
It took the girl another 3 hours to reply. 'Um, sorry I didn't see your friend request.' The next second, she accepted his friend request, and they started talking. The boy prided himself on his ability with words. 'There's just no one quite like me,' he always used to say.
They talked about random stuff at first. School. Colony. Interests. Then he asked her, 'So, how d'you travel to college?'
'Umm, I take the metro.'
'So how about metro-ing together?' he asked.
'Yeah sure. While coming back, we could metro together. It'd be difficult in the morning to coordinate.'
'There's a solution to everything.' he replied.
'Okay, give me your number.' ****

There was a commotion in the class as he came back to reality. Someone had entered into the room. He shifted to get a clear view. It was one of his friends. Evidently the teacher was furious because he had walked in late, though she had let him sit. The friend walked up to where he was sitting, and dropped heavily into the adjacent chair. 'Kya baat hai? Aaj akele betha hai?' what's the matter? Sitting all by your own? He asked him.
'Aise he,' he replied. Just like that.

*****'Why d'you always sit at the front? Don't you get bored?' he whatsapped her. They had been whatsapping for a few days now, but for some funny reason, barely acknowledged each other in college. The plan to metro together had proved to be futile. In the class, while he sat with his group at the back, she would always sit at the front, and hardly ever talk.
'You have no idea how boring it is.'
'Then why d'you sit at the front? Sit at the back. Trust me; you're missing out on a lot of fun.'
The next day, he got late for college. The first lecture was already halfway through when he entered with his friends. The classroom was full and thus they had to go stand at the back. The lecture was one he particularly detested so he began searching for her. He scanned the first two rows, but did not see her. His heart sunk. Dejectedly, he began looking for his other friends... Once the class got over, he would grab an empty chair and sit with them. Then his heart skipped a beat. There she was! Sitting right next to where he was planning to sit...*****

'Why are you distracted?' asked the professor, as he snapped out of his waking dreams. 'You should be writing.'
He nodded stupidly and looked at the open register in front of him. He didn't realise he had started scribbling random stuff along the margins. He looked at the time. Only thirty minutes had passed. He frowned. The time did not seem to pass at all. A far cry from the day when she used to sit with him and the entire day would pass before you'd even know.
She had started sitting with him since the day he had walked in late and spotted her sitting with his group. Since that day, slowly but surely, they had started coming close. By an unspoken consent, they had started waiting for each other at the metro station in the morning, sitting together and hanging out together, and leaving college together. In other words, they had come a long way. Everything had been going good and great before it all just fell apart.
His phone vibrated. He looked at the screen. 1 New message. It was from her.
'Are you pissed?'
'No'
'Yes I can see that. Tell me?'
'Nothing to say.'
'Tell me.'
'I don't want to go over the same thing again and again'


To be continued… !

Respect.

It took a powerful catharsis of emotions to get out of the self-imposed writing exile and get myself back to do what I’m best at- writing. In this instance, it’s the much awaited Century of Centuries by the God of cricket- Sachin Tendulkar.

It’s been a while since I’ve stopped following the fortunes of the men in blue. Ever since the debacle that was India’s tour of England in the summer of 2011, I haven’t quiet been the cricket fanatic I was. The disbelief at the appalling condition the team had landed itself into- shuttling from one low to another, was, is, and will ever be, hard to digest. 

Even then, when India landed down under three months ago, there was hope still.  That maybe this will be where the team will script a stunning turnaround.  And in fact, for the first two days, I entertained the thoughts that perhaps this would be the time Aussies will finally lose a Boxing Day test.  But then, the writing was on the wall as soon as Indian batting went in an all-too-familiar slumber.

Why I’m I writing all this? Because some way or the other, going over all this again and again I realised that maybe this is why Sachin didn’t celebrate the remarkable, mind-boggling achievement like a mad-man.  Why he simply raised his bat and looked towards the heaven, in the old Sachin fashion.  Maybe it was relief, relief at getting the elusive centuries, relief at finally getting the monkey off his back. But more than anything else, relief at the fact that he had silenced all those who had started questioning his place in the side.  For the better part of last three months, he had been under attack from all corners of the cricket-crazy Indian nation.  From legends like Kapil Dev to the road-side stall owner, all had proclaimed he should have called it a day, especially in the limited over format, after the world cup. After all, he had every record a batsman could hope to have against his name- more centuries, more runs, more matches, than anyone else and of course, the World Cup.  

It was suggested it was selfish of him to continue playing, not giving the youngsters a chance to prove their mettle.  I think this is what hurt the great batsman the most.  Questioning of his integrity, and commitment to the game he has overshadowed in a stellar carrier.

And now that he has reached the milestone where I doubt someone will ever stand again, these very people will suddenly sing a completely new tune. A nation of ‘thali ke bangan’.

I personally didn’t think Sachin would get the special ton, but more because of the constant comparison with Sir Don Bradman then because he was getting old, his footwork wasn’t as good as it was and his reflexes were delayed.  I thought perfect it was fitting for Sachin to walk into the sunset with a 99 against his name, much like the illustrious Don Bradman. As I said- some records are better left incomplete.

Perhaps that’s the reason the celebrations were sedated. Perhaps that’s why he’s such a giant of the game, and perhaps that’s why Sachin will always overshadow the game that turned him from a simple human to a legend, and recast him as our God.

We are a very privileged generation indeed to have the honour of being a witness to the class of Sachin Tendulkar.

                                  I was alive when Sachin scored century of centuries.