Noteworthy

Winter was about to set it but the climate around Tube factory in Jamshedpur was still warm. I was playing with my brother on the veranda when mom called us inside. Doors were shut and all windows closed even though it was still not cold outside. We were pushed to the living room where Doordarshan was broadcasting news. It was quite unusual for DD to broadcast news in the evening but I soon found out why. Babri Masjid was being attacked my Kar Sewaks with unconfirmed reports that it has already been demolished. Even though at that age, 9 years, no one gives a damn about politics but I was born sensitive so was infuriated at a Masjid being demolished. Even though I didn’t know the names of RSS/VHP/BJP leaders but their continuous venomous speeches had made me realise that that they are ‘bad people’, at least for the Muslims (Fortunately Shahi Imam Bukhari was not a media darling at that time).

Everyone’s eyes were fixed to the BPL TV which we bought few months ago. We had the extra ordinary comfort of electricity supply for 24X7 free as my father is in the central electricity department but still that day extra care was taken to shut the lights off in other rooms. 4 of us were sitting in the room with my father looking through the Railway schedule. Finally news dropped in at around 8 in the night that Babri Masjid has been brought down. DD even showed images from the site where Kar Sewaks were on the top of the dome with their weapons, few ‘bad leaders’ claiming victory for Hindus and also calling it just a beginning. So that meant even the Mosque in Kashi and Benras were under threat.

My mom then told us that we are leaving for Puri tomorrow morning. We lived in area where these Kar Sewaks could easily walk in our house and take that BPL TV. Plus my mom told us later that the area on the other side of the Tube factory was cleansed of Muslim population in riots of 1979. Next day reports came in of riots breaking out in many parts of country. My school was closed so that meant I didn’t have to make excuses when it reopens. We left for Puri in the evening only to return back when the riots in the other parts of the country have calmed down. Why Puri? Well its a city of temples and there are few local Muslims! We had a nice trip roaming from one temple to another in the city tour sponsored by hotel we checked into. Our BPL TV was still there and things returned to normalcy in few weeks.

Being a sensitive child I learned a lot from the experience-

1. Names like Honey and Sunny don’t reveal one’s religion (this is what we were called on the trip to Puri)

2. There is someone called Mr. Togadia who hates Muslims more than he would have hated his girl friend after being ditched by her.

3. Muslims aren’t safe in India. They can be killed at will. Women can be made to lose there purity and most horrifically even the child in the womb of a pregnant women isn’t safe.

4. People can go to any extreme to impose their ideology on non-believers.

5. Congress cannot protect the rights of Muslims. (Late Shri P V Narshima Rao is soon to be a hated man among Muslims. No one celebrated when he died but no one expressed his sympathies either)

6. Muslims in India are aliens as we came to India via the lineage of Babar and hence our cleansing is as prerequisite as was that of the British to establish India as a world power to reckon with.

7. We have 60 or so Muslim nations so why do need India to live!

I slowly started feeling grown up. Suddenly the whole world seemed to be an entirely different place to me, it was now divided into compartments of Hindus and Muslims. Even though nothing happened at school but I occasionally heard conversations, of seniors, in which the riots were being discussed. I never said a word when I used to hear someone’s happiness at the Babri Masjid being destroyed but just swallowed this bitter pill without disturbing the lines on my face.

To be continued….

[Inspired by the movie 'Black Friday', review here ]

And this how they shall flee West Indies. Practice makes a man perfect and they are just sticking to this adage. There are reports that the Indian cricket team is also carrying 6 such ‘powered boats’ for the world cup in WI so that they can easily escape, via the sea, without attracting too much attention.

The permutation and combination of occupants is currently being hotly debated in team meetings;

1. Dravid and Chappel cannot be on the same boat

2.Ganguly and Chappel should be at least 3 boats apart

3.Sachin prefers company of the old so no new chaps on his boat

4. Sreesanth’s boat might only accommodate 2 because he needs space to dance

5. Sehwag and Uthappa cannot be together because of Sehwag’s jealousy.

Other conditions include

1. Chappel needs a driver for his boat or a system so that he can drive using his laptop. The BCCI seems to have preferred the former because the technology has to come from China and there are reports that the Chinese are planning to get into cricket.

2. The team will come to Andaman and Nicobar Islands and stay there will the dust settles down. TV sets have been removed, no internet connection and no newspaper. The team won’t even know who wins the world cup. This is on the request of psychologist of the team.

[tags]World cup cricket, west indies, indian cricket team, cricket[/tags]

Continuing on this

She was not sure of the entrance so we had to roam around a bit. I am never comfortable with the idea of roaming around with a girl. I was embarrassed to the extreme! I hate the stare the passers by were casting on the moon clad in black who was accompanying me. You she can be described as ‘amawas ki raat me chaand’. I mean she along with her dress.

We finally reached the tomb. Surprisingly and fortuately there were only foreigners, desi all around would have further irked me. We started to walk around the place as it was her first visit as well. I took out my mobile and started clicking.

She: My ancestors were the warriors in the Mughal dynasty. You see we are originally from Dehli. Many don’t realise that Delhi is not the correct translation in English, it should be Dehli.

I: Oh what a pleasant surprise, Siraj-ud-daula was my great great grand father. So its the meeting of 2 royal families. Cool!

Well I couldn’t think of any ruler from Bihar and now i find out that Siraj-ud-daula  was the ruler of Bengal!

She: Our glorious past has been lost or else it would have been the meeting of 2 influential families from different parts of India.

I: And who knows there could have been the merger of two kingdoms. Well for that your father should have first revolted against the Mughals with our help and then we would have been rulers of the big part of India.

Wow. What royal crap are we talking about?

She: So your family was previously in Bengal?

I: No. We always lived in and around Biharshareef. Don’t go by the name, no one is shareef there. I used to love that place..

She interrupted.

She: But Siraj-ud-daula ruled Bengal right?

I: But previously Bihar and Bengal were one state right?

I am usually a quick thinker

She: Oh ok. Damn these colonial rulers. They even divided that!

I: Yeah damn them. Why don’t we sit somewhere? The ground there might be a good palce.

She: Sure

We go and sit in the middle of the ground. The watchman was quick to warn us so as not to litter around. We were now the center of attraction for the watchmen, the men working nearby and the desi crowd. I love the foreigners because they are so open-minded.

She: so tell me something about yourself. Just a casual observation, you are not as smart as your photo is.

What! How rude of her! I should have at least washed my face twice and shouldn’t have got this lalu style harircut.

I: Oh is it? I think that pic was enhanced by some technique. I am not sure as one of my friend gave it to me.

She: ok.

I: So you mean to say that you got an impression of me which is not true and now you want to refuse me?

She: Not that way. I just said that; don’t take it to that extreme.

Playing safe huh? I should have trusted my friends. These Delhi girls

I: ok.

She: I left in a hurry that I couldn’t even have my tea. I cannot live without tea you see. At least 3-4 times a day and now I will have a headache.

I: oh! And I don’t think you will get tea here. BTW I just loathe tea/coffee. I can count on my fingers the occasions I had them!

She: Its not that I cannot live without them but I am somehow addicted to it.

Now she is playing safe

I: So what’s the plan? Where do we go for lunch?

She: We will go to Kareems. It’s near by. It’s near the Nizamuddin Auliya’s grave.

I: What! It’s near the Markaz.

She: Yes. But why are you surprised? You have been to that place?

I: Yes I have been. Anyway no issues.

Now this is torture. I hope no one recognizes me near the Markaz. Well if someone does then I will tell him that she is my sister.

After the chit chat we left for lunch. I was walking fast and ahead of her near the Markaz, desperate to get into the restaurant but alas! The board outside read “Sorry we are closed�. Damn!

I: Get into this alley. Quick! We will talk about our destination later. Call an Auto-wala and tell him to take us away. Fast!

She: ok ok.

We finally started for Nizam’s in CP. I took a heavy breath in relief. Phew that was close!

Anyway we had a nice lunch and after that we left. BTW we did stop over for her coffee. Even I had my coffee for the 15^th or 16^th or might be 17^th time in my life. I cannot talk about the rest of the story

I was just too desperate to write a post on this. Well anyone would be, isn’t it? Rendezvous with a prospective. The stage was all set for 12th of December for us to first meet at the Shaastri Park metro station and then together to Humayun’s Tomb (well now you know why on earth I went all the way to Delhi) for some private chit chat. I reached Delhi with absolutely no preparation in terms of clothing. Got up early on that auspicious day, ironed my clothes (nearly burned my pant; it was not showing any signs of ironing so I increased the temperature and then it got stuck!) but didn’t take bath as the chilling temperature was too much of a persuasive factor. Started an hour earlier so as to reach on time. Delhi buses never stop so you need to hob in to board them and then hop out while they are moving. They are more than packed and if the conductor were a student of chemistry then he would ask everyone to align themselves so as to allow maximum people in (as molecules align themselves in a crystal with minimum spacing). Jaan hathele par le kar safar karta tha mai

I reached the destination but she was nowhere to be seen. I am used to it now. I think I should get into the habit of getting late. I am just too punctual on every occasion. She came in 15 minutes late and quickly recognized me. So we started off in an auto to the tomb. The auto wala initially asked 80 and to my surprise she suggested 70! I wonder why she was arguing for a petty 10 Rs. Or was she inept at the art of haggling? If that’s the case then I better me careful because I suck when it comes to arguments about price, in most of the cases I won’t mind parting away with the extra 20 or 30 Rs. Or she was sure of the fare and the auto walas in Delhi are not as arrogant as in Chennai. Anyway we started and so did her talks about how great Delhi is.

She: You see this is the real Delhi. Don’t form an opinion about Delhi from your experiences in Sadar Bazaar or the Chandni Chawk.

I: hmm…

While we were crossing a bridge which looked so similar to the Howrah Bridge in Calcutta

She: Argh! I hate this bridge. Just look at the dirty water below. I last came to this place on bike

I interrupted

I: With you ex boyfriend?

She: (red in anger) NO! With my father

I had a huge relief

She continues

She: You know Delhi has been corrupted and polluted by people from your place (Bihar). They come here for temporary work and eventually settle down. 90% of the auto walas are from Bihar. And then there are the Jats. You see we original Delhites have been reduced to a minority.

I: hmm… My friends have always warned me never to fall for a Delhi girl. One of my very good friend was ditched just because her father objected to the boy being from Bihar and not wealthy also. Am I too destined for that fate?

She continues while we were near the Gandhi Samadhi

She: This is the ring road and to your left is the Gandhi Samadhi.

I: I can read

She: We can stop here even. This place is quiet and it would be ideal for us to chit chat. We can even go the nearby Rajiv Samadhi or to the nearby Indra Samadhi.

I was confused and thinking what would Gandhiji would have though if he were alive today…people are dating near his place of burial…kya zabana aa gaya hai

She: are bhahiya yaha side kar ke rok dena. We will get down here only. Fine?

I: yeah fine!

She: arre eek minute…bhahiya yaha se to phir koi auto nahi mile ga

Auto Wala: Nahi..yeh ring road hai

She: chalo phir wahi chalo. You see this is a very busy road. Not some chota-mota road where you can stop anywhere. I am sure you would never have seen such a road.

I: I see. I have never been to such a big place in my life. It’s a lot easier in Chennai. You might be surprised to know that the police there are using US style police cars…damn they give that hi-fi look.

She: (Unaware of my boastings) this is the red fort.

I: But I don’t see anything red here

She: uff!

I: Ah, now I can see

Finally we reached Humayun’s tomb.

I quickly took out the money and handed it over to him…I was trying to impress you see

To be continued…