I am Back to my Ink and PaperIndia and her passing days
I filled my Form-C last week. It was on my table and the Food Security Bill as well as the Lokpal Bill at the backdrop of my mind. I purposely paused life a minute asking myself where my country is heading. Usually, at such junctures I used to ponder over love, life and loss and used to scribble something on the blunt papers at my desk. I saw the front page of a daily newspaper filled with cartoons depicting a day in life of India. I was startled. It depicted my country as a circus in the form of caricatures. It kicked my adrenaline high but after a ponderous look at the funny cartoons I zeroed the fact.
I am not writing this to crib about all what is happening around me. I am actually writing this at a surprising note. It is making a boiled egg out of me thinking the fact about 1.3 billion living, cribbing, dying and still moving the complete unit in some direction. The parliament actually stopped functioning debating on the fact that how the scams going in my country shall be probed. They didn’t try to consider the basic reasons and killing them in the bud. People think they are anti national. I think they are smart. The reason is simple. If the basic reasons erode how the heavens they would mint the money when they would be onboard. The Look East policy is being implemented. The Lokpal bill is somewhere crippled. The Food Security Bill has lost the way to its platter. Somewhere people say the investment in Gujarat will be ten times the Revenue budget of this country. Whereas the IIP is loses its grip in the very month preceding the investment talk. WikiLeaks became one of the effective ways of selling your ideas. Whilst, the Cairn-Vedanta deal made India’s red tapers the coffee talk somewhere; leading business men sit in London. Azim Premji added white kerosene to the fire of scamster India at the IMF. And couple of collectors kidnapped, some burnt alive in the ongoing rage of money. All was done but the mass hallucination was yet to come. The religion of this country is what the TV mongers show all the time. Cricket. And some sneezing Indian player was looked upon by a billion eyeballs. The news about rape a common event here (almost one happens every hour) or the number of children dying out of malnutrition (actually more than those in African nations) vanished in a nick of time. The parliament blockade was actually replaced by the mere thing who wears which thigh pad first when he comes to bat.
I rested at my terrace and tried counting the stars. I was successful as the pollution in the city made very few visible. I closed my eyes. The electronic screens showing the news shaped as a haste clown near my eyes. I wrote this thinking nothing about some enormous things in proportion, sometimes countless in numbers and emotions; somewhere at a place they call India…!
The Lone Soldier