Crossroads

Bangalore, Karnataka today is at the major crossroads, the one which will define its place in the history of South India. The choices made today and the path chosen will actually make or break the region. It can go up to the heights of being a world class city and bringing up the necessary  infrastructure revolution and anti-corruption movement or follow the usual path with most Indian prospects which show glimmer of hope and brilliance for some moment but alas eventually go down into oblivion.

The onus is with the politicians of this state, the federal government and the citizens of this erstwhile beautiful city. All the above mentioned objects have to see the big picture and get over the petty concerns.

If we all can rise over the Nice, language in primary schools, Belgaum controversy,  corruption and concentrate purely on the high definition growth of Bangalore the results would spill out and fallout to other places in Karnataka resulting in the overall growth of the state. If we win this game everybody kannadigas, IT industry, state government, people from outside the state  are the winners and If we lose this opportunity the only loser  to walk out of  this pitch will be the people of this glorious state.

Random Thoughts

Religion does not divide people. It does not unite them either. It makes them scared of evil. It makes them believe that their deeds would not go unnoticed, unfortunately this very concept which help growth of both fanaticism and tolerance.

Communal riots have their genesis not in the scriptures and tradition of a religion but in how human minds interpret them.

In India Muslims massacred in Gujrat, Hindus killed in Kashmir and churches burned down in south India. These riots had nothing to do with what is written in Koran, Bible and Geeta, but everything thing to do with how these were manipulated and implemented.

Middle class abhors riots and would not abet it till the time its own existence is threatened; Mostly Middle class is intimated by radicals of both its own religion and other sects

It is the only Safe bet India has against the cancer of religious fanaticism.

 

 

Aasman Ke Aage

Aasma Ke aage,
Jahan Koi Aur be hoga
Bandishon Ka
 wahan pe namon nishan na hoga
Aadme ka rang uske pehchan na hige
 wahan mahzaab ka sirf
ek he nam hoga.
 Aasma Ke aage,
Jahan Koi Aur be hoga

Wahan Bookh aur pyass na hoge
wahan Baichara aur apnapan hoga
wahan na lalach na kutneeti hoge
wahan pe saty he sundar hoga
Aasma Ke aage,
 Jahan Koi Aur be hoga
Wahan pe aurat
 ko ab be ma mana jaye
wahan aadmi ke daulat uske libaz se
nahi us libas ke under rooh se toole zaye
wahan Khudha ke mohhabat
aur marne ka khoof ab be hoga
aasma ke aage 
jahan koi aur
aisa zarror hoga

Terror

Yesterday there was a blast in Malegaon people offering Namaz on the occasion of shabe–barat were brutally killed.Children crushed under the rush of the maddening crowd in the stampede.It seems Muslims have no place to go, be and feel safe in this country.

There was a fear on Abbas face in the morning, though Amme did appear calm, Nasser my younger brother has no clue. Abba was overtly socializing with the Hindu neighbors seemed preparing for the rainy day when his “kalega ka tukda” his 16 year old daughter (me:-)) would become a liability.

Across the street Khan uncle is really perturbed and shake.If what happened in Malegaon was a backlash, what do we do if they something of that sorts happens here.

Do we go and start living in a muslim neighbourhood,leave this country,join the radicals??

I am scared when I hear the chants of “Har Har Mahadev”, scared when i walk in front of a temple, scared when people stare at me and treat me as a alien in the company elevator coz I am covered in a burqa,scared when my uncles with beards are looked down as Islamic militants.Acts of terrorism are not intended to merely victimize or eliminate those who are killed, injured or taken hostage but rather to intimidate and influence the whole or section of the society.Am I not the victim of terroism!!!!!

Someone somewhere commited a crime, we just shared a common religion and   I am the one people are seeking retribution from,Why should I pay for that crime ??

Morning Glory

Here I lie naked in front of you,

You know about my every thought and emotion.

You the bearer of Human race,

Did you forget One day we all shall Die.
How would you and How could you

Chinar

2 am in the chilly late autumn night of the Kashmir valley the loud speaker from the mosque suddenly screamed with the voices chanting “Allah Ho Akbar”. Chintu ten year old boy got up from his bed rushed slowly, rubbing his eyes into his parent’s bedroom. The room was filled with weirdness, there seemed to be fear in the eyes of the people in the room but on contrary there was a strange calm.

The intermittent cries of “Azzad Kashmir Zindabad” and “La illaha illa Allah” blasted through the PA system. Occasionally sound of footsteps were audible from the street below during the breaks. Chintu’s father was meticulously going about his work. It seemed he was prepared for this day and had been expecting it and training for it and today he went on sincerely executing, tasks collecting family gold, documents. It was as if you realise you are going to die and are making arrangements for your funeral. Just nobody knew who was going to survive and who not!

Chintu was not sure what was wrong, his parents picked and made him and his sister wear their “phiran”.Mom’s fleeting eye went towards her daughter! What would happen of her? Will she survive???

 

Father kissed his daughter and son held Mommy’s hand passed on her the bag .Tears rolled down mommy’s face. Father said “Bhagwan peth thav barrros Soore geis tekh” She replied “Jaldi Yezow thoy” and he kissed her on forehead. They three ran out through the backdoor into the orchard of Khan Sahib. Full moon , dried fallen leaves of the chinar, cool breeze from the pir panjal this was the mesmerizing night Bernier talked about(Bernier, the first European to enter Kashmir, writing in 1665: “In truth, the kingdom surpasses in beauty all that my warmest imagination had anticipated.) Chintu fumbled and lost his chappals , mother did realise that but did not stop to let him retrieve those. Daughter on one side and son on another and prayer on lips,teras in her eyes she ran for distance before stopping to take breath and one look back at her only house, her dreams and the man she loved.