Letter to a Terrorist

Okay... I have shamlessly plagiarised the following piece from a newspaper. But Kunal Merchant's (I don't know who the guy is, but hat tip to him!) write-up accurately mirrors just what I had in mind. His views made the most sense among the grandiose, yet cliched rhetoric floating around. Just like Kunal, I was full with apathy & neglect for what was going on around me. This very apathy is often mistaken for Mumbai's 'resilient spirit' (this ghastly term should be abolished!). I'm glad we have all finally woken up from our deep slumbers. I'm glad we booted out those mute, inept & dysfunctional leaders at the helm of our 'government'. I'm glad the anger hasn't died out yet. I'm glad someone (be it the local/national government, the international community etc.) is responsive to our demands at last. I'm glad this attack didn't just result in candle-lit marches, endless eulogies to the heroes who died defending us and a few elite blahing on TV about how they 'strenuously condemn these attacks'. I hope we don't forget this as just another terrorist attack on the freedom of our beautiful country. I hope we don't lose hope along the way. A hope for a better India. An amazingly plural, yet a peaceful and harmonious India.

The letter -

"The objective of a terrorist is not to kill, injure nor maim, but to instill terror in his victims. Your bullets and bombs killed close to 200 people and injured another 400, but your malice victimised around 1 billion citizens of my country. Long after the dust has settled, long after the carnage has been moped away and long after we have returned safely home, the impetus of the terror you have instilled in us will then manifest itself. The grief, anger, mistrust and the fear will all turn into hatred. Then words will become embittered, fingers will be pointed, views will get extreme, the schism between communities will widen, governments will get polarised and violence will be employed. But aren’t these the very same reasons that led you to our shores? Is it not hatred that you yourself feel? Is it not terror itself that created you? So, the cancer would have come full circle and thus is the apparatus of your terrorism.

When the riots took place in Mumbai, I was too young to understand. When bomb blasts went off in other cities they were too far off from me to notice. When trains in Mumbai were blown up, I only blinked twice. The night you attacked the Taj, I was having dinner there. Till that night, I had led my life in apathy, ignorance and cynicism. Just like your apathy which let you take innocent lives that night, my apathy did not let me value those already taken by terror. Just like the ignorance that made you perverse, my ignorance never let me feel for my fellow citizens. Just like the cynicism with which you marched into my city and ravaged it, the cynicism of my passivity welcomed you that day with open arms. I had allowed you to perpetuate your disease.

That night, I was trapped with a man who had lost all hope of ever getting out alive. Broken, he sat in a chair, his heart gave in and life left his body. Your bullets and bombs never even touched him, nor must you have ever seen him, but your terror was what killed him. That was what you intended to do — to strangle hope. That night, I hoped for my life, I hoped that I could go home and play with my dog, I hoped that I could go back to work and I hoped that I would live to grow old one day. That night, this man paid the price of life for giving up hope, that night I knew the value of life for holding on to it. Hope – that is the difference between you and I. Because you had no hope. You have no choice, but to choose the path you did. Because I had hope, I now have a choice to pick the path that I will take. I can choose to do nothing and return to my apathy, ignorance and cynicism and let your cancer run its course, or I can choose to remove my blinkers and put an end to your terror. My retribution to you and my resolution to your disease is in these choices I have made today. I choose love over hate, knowledge over ignorance, integration over isolation, compassion over apathy, construction over destruction and understanding over force.Just as you did not care if you survived as long as you created terror, I too don’t care what becomes of you as long as I supplant this terror.

In my last words to you I want you to know that even if you think you have been successful in victimising my entire country – you have failed because I am alive and I will always hold a kindled flame of hope. Just like only one of you could victimise an entire country, it will take only one of us to destroy your disease. But I am not alone. The youth of India, the frontier of the largest democracy in the world is waking up and making the same choices as I have. If it is terror that has created you – it is our humanity that will give you salvation. The evidence of this has always existed and soon you will see it. You will be given a fair trial by the same country that you victimised. The taxes of the same people you massacred will afford you a lawyer to fight in your defense. You will be tried by an impartial and unbiased judge and you will receive justice, though you deserve none. This is the fuel of my hope, this is the sanctity of my democracy, this is the echelon of my people and this is the beauty of my country."

Anatomy of a Hospital

How I hate the smell of hospitals. Squeaky clean, plasticky, chlorinated, antisepticized and thoroughly sanitized... you almost feel like you're the one quarantined. Admittedly, I am a stickler for all things spic-n-span, but this is way too much. Its like you're a speck of ugly dirt on that sickeningly clean, glistening floor and as you walk, you're made to think as if you're dropping multigrams of dust behind (smartass janitor comes rushing with his mop after you walk by)... Dude! For crying out loud - I haven't just emerged from the local sewer! And I'm certainly cleaner than your colonised armpit... now beat that! But hey, that's your job and maybe I shouldn't be complaining much. After all, hospitals must be clean, look clean atleast. So there you go - I will keep my pride aside and let you mop up after me.

Can't blame me for emphasizing on a trivial matter, cause I've never been to a hospital (atleast a huge one, spanning 10+ floors) before. Naturally, I'm awestruck by the enormity of actions that go on in the place. Doctors in their white gowns looking oh-so-important; nurses with their hair neatly tied up, barking instructions; ward-boys scurrying across the place with patient-files; janitors (that annoying, yet essential species again) cleaning floors furiously and the receptionist answering various queries with a constant smile on her face. All these people are directly or indirectly involved in the business of saving lives. Daily, hourly, minute-by-minute, every second. And to be honest, I am in awe of them all. My sis is too. "Drat! I should've been a doctor!" she says. Yeah Sona, count me in as well.

On sight of the imposing building of the Asian Heart Institute at BKC, you'd be forgiven for thinking it is a five-star hotel. Well, they treat you like a five-star patient atleast. Dad is in for his bypass. Never thought things would advance to such an extent, but they did. What's important though, is that he survived a major heart attack that struck him this month. 100% blockages, the doc said. In both of his left arteries (LAD, CX). Yet, he lived to tell the tale. I know I'm reiterating this, but it can only be that supreme Force above that averted this near-fatal incident. And not just pure dumb luck. I am not worried sick 'bout Dad. Only a little anxious. I know he is in safe hands. I know this surgery will be a success. I know he will recover wonderfully from it. I know that if He saved him the last time around, He will this time too! And I know, dear reader... that you will pray for him too.

Hoping and praying for the best!

Last, but by no means the least - Here's also praying for the victims of that awful, awful strike on Mumbai. My heart goes out to them and their families. What a great loss for Mumbai!

Let peace prevail.

Peeving times

I am sitting back at work late today and I'm terribly cross. There's no reason for this petulant frame of mind (does there have to be? I'm a woman.... now go figure!) that justifies the foul mood I'm in. Maybe its those dratted numbers I look at everyday on the smug, blindingly white screen in front of me. Rows and rows of numbers (down to the 4th decimal.... aaaargh!) all waiting for me to deconstruct them and formulate an opinion. Isn't it funny (or irritating in my case) how the only things in this world that cry for my attention are numbers (not telephone numbers of Greek hunks, dum-dum, but financial numbers.... in annual reports, equity reports, credit reports, report of reports and all that fancy jazz.... damn them all!) Is the entity-in-question in trouble or will it sail through? Does its rating deserve a downgrade? What! An upgrade? In THIS environment? Have you been drinking again? I say, they could all deep fry in hell for all I care. But then, I get paid for analysing such numbers, so maybe I shouldn't grumble much. Coming back to the crux of this very vexatious post, I'm still not done being generally pissed off at the whole wide world at large. So much so that I want to hurl this keyboard at someone really annoying, for instance and watch the unfortunate chap wince. To add more depth to the present intense mood I am in, I start thinking about things that really bug me. It could be anything - people, their acts, freaks of nature, nature itself.... anything and everything qualifies for my complete and unwavering distaste for them. So here's the infamous list I've annoyingly compiled, the end-result of which only irritates me more as it makes me wanna hurl the entire row of computers in my immediate line-of-vision at anyone who dares meddle with me today. So, before you brand me as an obnoxious & insufferable fusspot, without further ado, I present the 10 things that put me off, royally. (This is infact an exercise in futility, as it hasn't calmed me down at all). Anyhoo.... here they are:

1. Reading annual reports (no grand surprise at all, as that's what got me started on this fret-trip in the first place, innit?)
2. Loud talking on the phone (missed the No.1 spot by a whisker; this particular act is really bothersome as it makes me feel like I practically know the person at the end of the day, thanks to his/her ear-splitting voice)
3. Too much talking (some people just won't stop... zaraa zubaan be lagaam daalo, berehamiyon!)
4. An irritating 'No' when you ask the rickshaw-wallah 'I.C. Colony jaaoge?' Grrr... why are you driving your gas-guzzling, fat-arse rickshaw in the first place if you don't wanna go anywhere?
5. People wasting water - the maid with the water tap on when the bucket's full; Mom, when she's washing vegetables atleast 5 times (totally unecessary!); public toilets where the water tap keeps running; that huge tank carrying water, half of which is leaking away etc etc.
6. Ego-maniacs, show-offs & self-obsessed people (do I need to elucidate more? I meet my fair share of such losers DAILY!)
7. When it rains just when I step out from home. Now there's no avoiding that muck that will generously spray on your brand new outfit today.
8. Liars. I truly despise them.
9. Mumbai's crowded trains. Not to add, the filth around (spit, garbage, dead crows, stray dogs, plastic... yuck!)
10. The 'Work in Progress' sign on the road. Our safari-clad-babus have a knack for handpicking the smoothest of roads for digging by giving some godforsaken reason: telephone cable repair, sewer repair, pothole repair etc etc. This 'progressing work' will invariably go on for a decade. Even ants work faster! Its such a nightmare to drive on Mumbai's dug-up roads.

Oh I could go on and on. But then your brain would perhaps suffer a haemorrhage (its a miracle if you're still reading this by now). So, in cognizance of your well-being and the fact that its 8.05 pm now and I haven't left the office (GOSH!... I gotta run!) I will stop. Until my next tirade!

Times like These

Its times like these when you are starkly reminded of your capricious existence and how easily it can be taken away from you in an instant. The realization hits you when you least expect it. A rabbit-in-the-headlights kinda situation again. Though this one time, the rabbit wasn't me, it was Dad. Thank God it was only a mild heart attack. I stop short of thinking what would've happened if it was anything graver than that. Mom, sis and myself wouldn't be able to deal with that. It has not been an easy time for the family, however we have surprisingly come out stronger than before. As I've said a thousand times in the past, I couldn't admire Mom more. She's rock solid, even though her world is being torn apart. She's shit scared inside but she won't shed a cowardly tear on the exterior. Its the hardest thing to put on a smile for your loved ones when in so much pain. She credits us for being so brave during times of distress, but I think otherwise. In truth, she's the stuff heroes are made of. She's been through a lot of undeserving crap in her life, but everytime she comes out unscathed. Shaken, but not stirred.... a la Bond.

As I am typing this, Foo Fighters are playing in the background. The words are apt:

I am a one way motorway

I'm the one that drives away

Then follows you back home

I am a street light shining

I'm a wild light blinding bright

Burning off alone

It's times like these you learn to live again

It's times like these you give and give again

It's times like these you learn to love again

It's times like these time and time again

I am a new day rising

I'm a brand new sky
To hang the stars upon tonight

I am a little divided

Do I stay or run away

And leave it all behind?

It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again

Here's wishing Papa a full & speedy recovery. I know 'hospital' is synonymous for 'jail' in your dictionary by now. But take heart, only a few days more, and then you'll be walking out in the sunshine.... to embrace a blessed second life again!

Gooping out!

Now who would think I'm an out-an-out foodie (considering my pathetically twiggy structure)? Here're some pics of me gooping out at Mainland China with my partners in grime - my office colleagues. All those grease-ly concerns took a holiday today.

The Week's Memories

Its been a crazy week... no surprise as it was Diwali after all. The festival of shiny bright lights, several-hued rangolis, oily diyas, fattening (and after some time, repulsive) sweets, pop-in-at-any-time relatives, fake/genuine smiles but most gleeful of all - SPARKLIN' NEW CLOTHES!

Here are some pics I clicked of the lovely rangolis at my workplace and of course, at home:

Meanwhile, I also found the time to splash around in a waterpark at Karjat during this maniacal week. Tucked away amidst the rolling mountains of the Sahyadris, this was one adventure in nature's wilderness. Some crazy water-rides were situated right atop a mini-mountain and we came swishing down it. Totally whacked-out! You'll find below some pics from the waterpark, get a load of the greenery around! Pleasing!

The red body-slide (to the left above) was completely MAD! The topmost slide was a wicked 90 degree drop and it terrified us. I was shaking at the end of the first slide (screaming my lungs out, the water spraying in my face, blinding me and my arms flailing wildly), but gathered enough courage to do it another 3 times!

The 2 rides above were a breeze, as we had boats we could park our arses in. Super-fun was the tube ride (above right) where we winded down it, yelling our throats out. The red slide looked menacing again, but after the previous red slide, this one was a ninny-ride! We went over-and-over in these rides, enjoying the adrenalin rush that came with it.

All in all - fultoo paisa vasool!