#2: Forsaken soul

"Don't go out yet!" we said. "Your talks with that friend are ever on the rise. 

Talking about our household is not wise."

The light left her eyes, shoulders stooped, she slunk back on her chair.

"She's back from the village with a gift. Taking it, I think, is fair."

We stopped short of words. Yet again we were too hasty and judging.

The househelp across the lane had the comfort only a friend could bring.

Staring at the soppy serial on TV, her only distraction, her eyes welled with tears,

"You wouldn't know what it is to be alone, and to live in fear."

A sharp intake of breath we took. She was right, and we hadn't thought,

What it could be like to lose every loved one life had brought.

There had been a home with Mother and Sister and Goats in a far-off village,

Before it crumbled while she had been away, all mercilessly pillaged.

The Mother and Sister killed by some kin,

And no one to arrest them for committing the sin.

For we live in a country where the mighty rule,

The honest and the hard-working man is just a fool.

So it was that she lost her family, for the kin lusted for her life too,

She gave up her hard-earned money to another greedy sister, for there was nothing she could do.

The greedy sister, sent off at birth to a kin-woman who wanted her, became bitter,

To the birth-mother; she felt no sympathy for her remaining sister.

Yet we wondered what made this lonely girl do things for the greedy one,

"She's the only family left... I'm doing what I would anyway have done."

Cleaning, cooking, washing, answering throughout the day,

A few minutes of solace with a friend are for play.

Yet she is hindered. By the time we realize our mistake,

She has taken to sleep, lost in a world we are not allowed to take.

---

The hero on a rainy morning...

Thank you for reading this poem. I'm glad I wrote it. It makes me feel more aware and empathetic towards a girl I've known for more than eight years, a girl who isn't my sister, yet I've lived under the same roof as her, a girl I've seen striving to be good at everything she learns. It was a hard blow to her (and us) when news of the tragedy that befell her home reached us. We cannot really imagine how she feels to live in such a world. Yet, I've seen her laughing more than I've ever done, and I wonder at that. I don't like the communication gap we have. We don't have long talks. It gets awkward when we do try. I'm annoyed at something most of the times, and it nearly always goes to her. Sometimes I feel like crying if I think of my behaviour considering her situation, because it makes me feel ashamed of myself, of all of us who, after an initial "I'm sorry", tend to forget all about another's tragedy. Every life counts, and each one of it should be celebrated with love and care. Thinking about it just now, I think it would be a good amend to renew what I had started long ago and left too soon without completing it--to teach her to read and write in Hindi. What's the point of being a lover of words when I can't share the love with someone I actually do care about? You rock, V. You'll never read this, but from among this love-hate relationship, love rules. 

***

I am participating in the National Poem Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). It was a suggestion by a friend, and I readily accepted mostly because I had been craving to get back to blogging, but somehow had not been able to manage it. I've never been into poems. The only poetry book I own was acquired a few days ago, as a gift. But I hope to express my thoughts, realize some truths in the process of writing, and share it on this blog with NaPoWriMo. And oh, the most exciting part about this "project" is that I'm competing with this blogger-friend. We're going to see who writes better, each day. We realized that to get into that writing frame of mind, we needed to be regular, and this could just be the thing. And to keep us motivated, what's better than a challenge? We can self-judge (assuming you guys would be too busy to comment or anything), but you are free to give your opinion! It would inspire us even more! This is tagged #2 because it is April 2 today. We forgot to begin it yesterday. :P

You can participate in NaPoWriMo too. Click here. 

On reading and readers...

Reading's been a vital part of my life so far. Sometimes it seems as if I'm overstating the fact, seeing how there are others who read as much, but they don't talk about it all the time. There's something more to it than what I see or what you see or what we know. I know there is something in that activity that is inherently 'me', something that makes me feel complete and at peace with myself and the world. It defines who I am, who I was and who I am going to be. When I close my eyes and try remembering life as a child, I find myself either playing with my kid brother, excited about the games we invented and planning to put them to use, or going about in the narrow park with overgrown grass, wondering how and where to put up our 'playhouse' (which never existed in reality, of course, because in my imagination, it would be made of mud, and no grown-up would help us). Apart from these, the moments of flashback I have of that time nearly always include a book in my hand.

There was that one time a friend had come over to play, and by stroke of luck, I had chanced upon a book by Enid Blyton, a blue hardcover full of stories, a book I'd forgotten I ever had, so much that it was almost new. I remember being completely glued to the book. The grumpy friend had left soon after. Another time, I wasn't as excited initially when I saw a boxed set of Harry Potter books (1-4) instead of the Barbie I'd asked for, but I remember being glued to Philosopher's Stone till 11pm that night when mom had to wrench it away from my grasp because I had school the next day. All in all, I've lived a humble life as a kid, not being interested in anything other than books. It's trickled down as I've grown-up. I still have little patience for movies, TV shows, gadgets, fashion stuff, shopping, etc. Of course, I love certain movies and shows, I'm technologically inclined and have preference for simple and elegant fashion. I'm not 'backward' in most senses, but I've found out a secret.

Now, this secret comes at a price. There was this video/documentary on J.K. Rowling I was watching last night where she said, 'For someone to love a thing, it has to be loathed by someone else.' So my secret here might seem like a load of bull to some, but some would definitely get it and hopefully appreciate it too.

It's this: Reading gives us much more than a good grasp of language. In fact, language is only one of the useful things you might get (because not every reader can write well, either). More than that, it gives you life. Really, if you are a reader who is capable of experiencing happiness, satisfaction or pleasure in a book, you're open to knowledge about life itself. That knowledge helps a reader make better sense of the world, have more feelings of empathy and tolerance, learn to appreciate the beauty of things, be more cool-minded and accepting. Reading also gives a reader answers to questions he might not even know he had, and the irresistible urge to grow as a reader. It increases knowledge about things that would blow your brains if you read about them. Do not trust TV shows and such forms of entertainment for facts, because they're largely based on entertainment, and would most probably be giving a one-sided perspective. 

How do you grow as a reader?

You experiment and read books beyond your comfort level, gradually, slowly. You have to let it happen on its own with just the tiniest bit of prodding, because if you force anything, you're going to hate it and there, that's the end of it. Reading is also sensitive. I have certain genres I cannot even glance at, all because I have deep-rooted biases because of wrong time experiment or maybe a bad book or maybe I really don't have much tolerance for those topics anyway. But really, I've grown as a reader more in the past couple of years than anything else. When you grow, you read and love and appreciate those genres you earlier didn't touch. A growing reader is also a wonderful resource because they insist on sharing their feelings with their friends and making them read too. They crave sharing of books, so much so that they start getting annoyed when others seem indifferent.

How does that help you?

You start looking at life beyond the ordinary, you are more optimistic and calm when it comes to real-life problems, though you might become that kind of person who draws into a shell and comes out only when it seems safe to do so. That's all right. You have the right to feel the way you do.

More than that, you'll realize that your place in the world is minuscule, you'll not be self-obsessed because you will be humble enough to realize you're small, yet powerful enough to influence other lives. Yes, you will not only know that you have that power, you will also believe in it and you will be driven to work for causes beyond those that carry you to materialism and selfish benefit. Tell me, don't you feel a tinge of sadness or pain when you see a poor kid? Don't you feel bad about wasting money when someone living in a construction house cannot even have enough food to survive? Readers tend to feel more strongly simply because they are capable of immediately putting themselves in that position and imagining what it's like. Readers and non-readers might take the same action to help others, but when it comes to feelings, I think readers personally feel more. Non-readers tend to be more practical in their approach. 

Readers will know their life beyond what they see, because they've read so much that they are able to connect more at the level of their feelings, and it is not easy to ignore a life so drastically different from yours. You would want to do something, and you, the reader, will figure something out even if it is a small step. Would you not?

What can you do?

As a reader, the least you could do is to motivate people around you to turn into readers themselves. It might sound obvious, but the fact is that it is very difficult. My brother G, despite living among piles of books, is not an avid reader. Some people just find it difficult, specially because, sad as it may sound, this basic activity is introduced to them as a pleasure activity quite late in life. By that time, most already have a set of hobbies and activities they have found solace in, and reading might not be in that list. Can you force anyone to read? NO! If you constantly pester them, they're going to rebel even more and thus, be as far from the idea of reading than they were before. You need to then do it in a subtle way, so that you're not forcing your opinion on anyone, because let's face it, a lot many wonderful people have survived without reading too, but they seem to have something else, a sense of understanding of the world, which is rare.

So if you need to do the deed and contribute your bit, I'd suggest you do it subtly. If a friend points out how he/she thinks it is boring, politely and excitedly tell them how it isn't boring. Talk about books and reading whenever the opportunity comes up. Show an interest in anyone who says they've read a certain book. Strike up conversations. Ask them what it is about, and if they enjoyed reading it. Tell them about the book you love or the story in an easy language. If you know what interests them, try to recall if you've read any book on that theme, and recommend it to them. 

The best way to get people to read is to make books available to them. I recently came across this article that talks about how soldiers from WWII were given affordable copies of books by publishers, how it affected them, and how drastically it changed the reading and publishing industry in America. That step, the offering of good quality books in affordable formats to soldiers in wars, was a step not only to create sales but to provide the many benefits of books to many, many people. 

Tell me, how many bookshops are there in your locality? I don't mean those that sell school books, nor the stationery shops that keep a handful of kiddie story books. I mean proper book shops. If you live in a modest part of Delhi, I'll bet on one shop within a radius of two kilometres. I do not have any shop near my house. In fact, I do not have anything book related in my neighbourhood. Except schools. Oh yeah, there are loads of schools - I could give you ten names just to serve as landmarks, but no book shop.

As a reader, make it your responsibility to spread this habit. I will not say that the internet is the cause of decline in book readership, because with the internet, people DO get reading material readily, even if I would think that most of it is crap. Still, I do not believe in the 'at least they're reading something' ideology either, so I make small efforts to share articles and reading pieces I feel must be read. You could do that too. Move to books. If you are a reader, completely move to books! Gift books to your friends, ask for books if you're being asked for a gift choice. Be the best friend's children's book resource. Forget being considered a nerd. It's for everyone's benefit. 

***

The term called 'tolerance'

It was just an English word I knew, just like so many others I'm aware of, having read them somewhere or the other. Those are the words you realize you know when someone talks about them and it sounds familiar. I never had patience for dictionaries, even the online ones. Not that I'm proud of the fact; I wish I would have the will to pause and check out the proper meaning of a word before using it wherever it 'felt' appropriate, but so far, I'm only learning, and not very well either. Such words seem foreign at one point of time, when you read them associated with something, anything that hits your heart, and you realize you were simply treating it like a nobody while it held deep character all this while. One such word for me was 'tolerance'. 

Def: (Oxford dictionary online)
[Mass noun] The ability or willingness to tolerate the existence of opinions or behaviour that one dislikes or disagrees with:

the tolerance of corruptionan advocate of religious tolerance

Before that, I'd heard this word in school. 'I'd not tolerate any nonsense!' the teacher would shout. She wouldn't take nonsense, so you better behave. 

I'd also read it in novels. 'It was hard to tolerate all the pain.' Something that'd be difficult to bear.

But was it something big enough to wonder about? Something to be taken seriously, because you'd start feeling bad if you didn't understand it or did something about it? No.

It was only a few months ago when I came across a short speech delivered by the famous author, Vikram Seth, titled 'Intolerance is Violence,' that I got a glimpse into another, more fundamental aspect of the word, and it felt like I've been wronged most of my life!

Pic src: walizahid.com

A friend sometime mentioned, 'as Indians, we're quite racist' and it hadn't taken long for me to agree. We differentiate based on colour, religion, gender, social status, family background, etc even among ourselves. We teach it to our children, even when as kids, they're inclined to treat everyone the same unless they see their guardians treating certain people differently. We're proud of our heritage, even though we don't realize that we probably don't even deserve it, but oh, we're so confident of ourselves that we feel we're the best ever humanity could have. I think it'd be better if we faced reality: we've been provided marvelous lives, and the least we could do is be grateful about it. This isn't a sermon; I'm yet to understand and apply half these things myself, but what I do know is that my life would totally suck if I stayed in this bubble for long. Just so you know, it isn't self-created. It's something we're being born into and we don't even realize there's a world outside that bubble. Some thickheaded among us even guard the boundaries fiercely, lest it bursts, making other people who feel trapped inside, even more miserable. These are mostly the leaders, our supposed heroes sent out to let people escape their cages, but they end up doing the opposite, just because they're too scared to venture outside.

That makes different people live in different bubbles, never really trying to understand others' lives, their values and beliefs, thought processes, ways of living, or ever share their human nature. People eventually become comfortable in their own space and look at differences with suspicion, and sometimes, enmity. This is intolerance.

It takes an uglier aspect when it is edged with acts of abuse. Physical harm is only one form of such abuse. Making a sour face at someone else without even knowing them as people is also abuse. Asking your kid to stay away from the maid's child is abuse. Thinking a man in a turban would act crazy because he is a Sikh, is abuse. Think about how many people you've abused in your life and if you feel humbled even one percent, read on, or else I suggest you go back to your clique of high-profile, 'modern' friends who do no more than share a picture of the poor receiving a once-in-a-lifetime hug from some 'superstar', while throwing a callous, racist joke. I'd hope no more people like you come into existence. There are far too many already. 

I have this belief about authors churning out some of the best messages about life and society, and being daring enough to announce it to the world. It felt great when Vikram Seth did it. Apart from him, J.K. Rowling is someone who actively advocates tolerance and even seeks to send messages of tolerance through her stories. In one of her recorded interviews, she was asked what vice she most despises. Her one word reply: bigotry. The story of Harry Potter has lovable characters who're indeed different and in her own way, she managed to make younger readers have more capacity for tolerance. Need proof? Read it here.

Why should you harbour tolerance?

Because that's how it's supposed to be. Hatred never got us anywhere. Wars might be won, but millions of people die and that's the cruelest crime. Unkind words leave deep wounds, sometimes altering someone else's personality. You should be tolerant towards others and intolerant to intolerance. Someone hurt you badly? If you can't manage to forgive and forget, or let a just law take care of them, let it be. Don't go for revenge or bad-mouthing the person. You should be tolerant because generalization is wrong. It's not just bad, it's plain wrong. People are not defined by their backgrounds or looks and the sooner you realize this, the earlier you'd achieve a level of tolerable tolerance. You should be tolerant because you'd have a bright, wider outlook on the world, friends from the unlikeliest of places and it'd make you feel wonderful. 

How can you achieve more tolerance?

#1. By controlling your desperate urge to comment on any such post on Facebook where people are belittling others by categorizing them under religious heads. Hint, hint: read any post related to 9/11 or Kashmir floods and you'll know what I mean. It's horrifying to read hatred filled comments coming from the youngsters who'd supposedly help India overcome problems. Ow, don't tell me you really believe that? Because as long as we're stupidly guzzling any form of generalization made so prominent by businesses and media, we're only going downhill. You could vehemently go on opposing it, because you'd be long dead by the time other people suffer due to your mindlessness. 

#2. Stop generalizing, stereotyping, prejudicing and most of all, stop misusing the voice social media so easily provided you, to encourage any of those. I'm sometimes astounded at the minuscule number of people who'd agree on the importance of reading, so I wouldn't even go there, but if you think you're smart enough to churn out biased viewpoints and abusing people, even communities on social media, I'd have to admit that I think you're totally dumb. No, ignoring you is not the answer. Stopping you is. 

#3. Wait to know people yourself first before believing anything negative about them. Practice looking at people without the cloud of their background in mind and making assumptions; do that till you are able to look at anyone without wondering about their colour or caste or religion or finances or any other thing. Don't accept generalizations. They're bad. 

#4. Mind your own business. Seriously. Unless it affects you, and unless what you say or do will actually make a difference, keep your nose out of other people's business. Also, like mentioned before, your opinion on world issues is hardly relevant, so unless you have something useful to say, refrain. Then look at the world become a better place.  

Many Indian leaders before have talked about intolerance. Dr Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan spoke of intolerance as the greatest repressor of progress. There probably are a lot more ways for being tolerant and I'm hoping I'd understand and practice those too, while praying that others too know how important it is to not be swayed by radical assumptions and statements, to have the ability to accept the fact that people are different and that the world needs a lot more love than hatred.

A part of Vikram Seth's speech that makes sense to me:

'Intolerance is violence. And accepted intolerance is violence with the acquiescence of society.'

'You may as well be yourself, because really, there’s no one else you can be. We’re here for such a ridiculously short time, in this ridiculously trivial corner of the universe, that if we aren’t ourselves, what’s the point of doing anything at all? So I would say it all matters, whether it’s your profession, whether it’s your beliefs, whether it’s the person you love, you must go at heart with who you are. Not what someone else tells you, not what your clan tells you, not even what an unjust law tells you. Go with yourself.'

The “Greater” creatures – Homo sapiens

Life is beautiful, or at least, it is supposed to be. We’re incredibly lucky that God chose to bless our souls with a human form. We’re living a comfortable life, being educated, building plans for a great future, investing our time an vigour into ‘creation’ – creating things, inventions, innovations promising to make our life even better. We have the power of controlling our minds that make us ‘intelligent’. We can talk, create, build homes, and build lives. We have the power to do almost ANYTHING!

As a human being, you have ‘greater’ powers than other creatures; why don’t you try to make life better for them too, other than just your own? God didn’t put us here on this planet to meddle with his creations. We’re supposed to live, to use those resources carefully and make living an enjoyable experience, for us and all other living beings. (Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking you to abandon cities and start living in the middle of a forest on wild fruits and leaves!)

Think about it, aren’t you only concerned about YOUR family, YOUR business, YOUR job, YOUR habits and also, YOUR choices? Do you even care how it is affecting others? However rigorously you may shake your head from side to side, showing those big bulging eyes, I know you don’t. Even if you do, there is some motive; you will be getting something out of it, wont you? Only a few great souls like the beloved Mother Teresa can provide selfless love.

And it isn’t only about humans.  A situation that arose recently in our colony made me think about what people’s priorities actually are. Everyone wants to stay in their comfortable cocoons, troubling to get out only to shoo away something that’s troubling them.

It had been THREE days since the street dog (a bitch) had been stuck underground. Weird, you say? Well, there was this small hole recently dug at the side of the ramp* of a neighbor’s house. This dog was about to give birth and had gone inside this seemingly ‘safe’ shelter. That’s because another dog, from another lane, had killed all her babies previously; kyunki ye patli si hai and wo moti and strong, as the littlest kids tell me. Clearly, tragedies aren’t only prevalent in our lives. These creatures suffer tragically and endure all the pain in their strong strides. It doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings. Have you ever noticed a tear in a dog’s eye? You should, you’ll start loving life more.

Anyway, the poor dog had gone deep inside and while coming out with the pups, one of its legs got stuck in the mesh of underground pipes! It wasn’t able to come out at all, and it was SO deep, no one could even see (except with a flashlight). A day passed, people gave pitying looks to the rock solid ramp, some staring, as if they had x-rays fixed in their retinas, to see or wonder what the dog’s condition would be. I saw the kids being the most affected. They stood in shock, listening to the wails, trying to figure out a way to help. The second day, someone called the MCD (Municipal Corporation of Delhi) and as it is expected in a funny city like Delhi, we got a huge, magnanimous Fire Ambulance instead. The fire truck came, saw the situation and said, “Ye hamara kaam nahin hai, MCD ko bulao” (this is not our job, call the MCD) or wait for two days, it might come out on its own; and went away! With nothing to do, the people went and slid back into their comfortable homes, while the dog with the pups was stuck inside with a painful leg, in a stifling, watery hole, without food or water, wailing loudly. Night came and the wailing stopped. One could hear people murmuring, “now they’ll have to break open the ramp anyway to get the smell and the dead dogs out, poor people, kharcha aa jaega inka toh” (they’ll have to pay for the expense). Heck, doesn’t anyone care at all? You felt bad because the owners of the home would have to pay, not because a life (and probably four more) had to end in such an inhuman manner? But wait, why would you, those creatures aren’t human, right? For heavens’ sake, didn’t you see its companion, sniffing all around frantically, wailing, and probably trying to call her? Why was it running around looking under cars or in the staircases? It isn’t just you, who has a life. Respect other lives; anything can happen with you too. I felt terrible. Even though I was always against my brother and dad feeding them with milk and bread occasionally, since they were always running around our gate, I felt a deep sadness seeing the poor companion. I wished I could have helped.

The next day I returned home from college, and to my delight and satisfaction, I heard the dog’s wailing! It was alive! Not wanting to miss this chance, I immediately set out, trying to talk with the home owners who wanted the dog out. They were compassionate people, thankfully and ensured their full support. The chowkidars were called in and asked to break open a part of the ramp, a little away from where it was stuck. An opening created, the people peeked in and saw the stuck dog in defensive mode, trying to struggle to keep her babies close. A dog in distress doesn’t know you’re trying to help; and angry and dissatisfied as it was, it was dangerous at that moment. We decided to call an animal shelter, which could free the dogs and take them for treatment. They came, made another opening, in the course of which one of the two guys got bitten by the dog. Angry and agitated with the situation, they went away after tying close the dog’s mouth, so it wouldn’t bite.

In the meanwhile, people started complaining about the racket that was being created by the dogs and the thump-thump of the hammers against cement. They wanted the dog out so that they could sleep in peace.  At last, a middle-aged woman, who had been helping with the process the whole time, called her husband from work to help. He came within half an hour and with a few tricks, made a comfortable way to slice the pipe, without the danger of the dog biting. There was this man in Reebok and Dockers, sawing away at the pipe in the heat, to save an animal’s life. Wasn’t it amazing? 

Finally, after whole six hours since the process started, the dog was free. Some people fed it with milk and went away satisfied. Some others didn’t bother; they continued living in their cocoons, trying to make more money probably. It was both a happy and sad moment for me. I felt extremely self-satisfied and happy. Hey, we prevented a small universe from being broken. The dog was alive, and so were its babies. But what hurt was the attitude of the residents, who didn’t really care. After all, it’s only a street dog, they say. I wanted to ask them, what if it was (God forbid) a little kid? People would have gone gaga over the issue and the kid would have been back with his doting mommy within half an hour!

The world isn’t just about you. Learn to love, show sympathy and extend a helping hand. The intense satisfaction and pleasure you experience would be much more than what you get sitting home watching the stupid TV. You are a ‘greater’ creature, show and prove it too. Help others. Love life. Live life.  

*ramp- a slope usually made of cement in front of a house.

Quite the irony

We all seem to have 'learnt' at school how bad child labor is and how it poses a danger to children who have a right to live a decent and innocent life. But school lessons are just school lessons it seems, for the malice of child labor is as widely present as anything! Not that we alone can do much, but surely our minute efforts can make a difference. For instance, we can take a stand against employing  kids for our household chores. I'm sure there must be a horde of munnis and chotus in our typical Indian households. They can't help it because either they are forced into the work by their poor parents who seek additional sources of income or because they've seen enough problems at a young age to last a lifetime and they get into work.

This problem took a greater hold on me when I recently witnessed an example of young kids put to work.
I was on my way to college and while you've got a mere eight station distance to your destination, you can't do much except notice other people and during one of my people-noticing times, I saw a small group entering the metro- a lady holding a 2 and a half year old child, another woman(i guess her mother or m-i-l) and a small stooped figure. I could not quite make out the figure in ragged clothes and on closer examination saw that she was a girl, hardly eight or nine, bent with the weight of numerous shopping bags that weighed her down and that contained expensive stuff, which she was never destined to own, but carry, yes. A sad but true thing. What made me downright outrageous was how the lady pushed her impatiently through the crowd, barely noticing the impression that was being made on the girl's neck by one of the bags. And, how could anyone that seemed to be educated enough to know child labor is a crime, could go on about having a kid do the work of an adult , maybe more than that, while she cradled her baby lovingly and protecting her from the crowd.
Really, what an irony that is!

Real Tragedy

The Air India Express airplane that crashed in the treacherous Mangalore Airport is nothing short of a real tragedy..... one that has probably devastated so many families and once again brought light to the issue of Airlines. No doubt it has been a blunder on the part of those who passed the Airport site and construction as 'in proper order'..... might even be the fault of the ATC or the pilots themselves, but does it really matter now? After so much of personal loss, the devastated condition of those who probably were coming from an enjoyable holiday or workers keen on getting home, what matters is that such a horrible accident never happens again. Instead of finding out a scapegoat, they should concentrate on making the airport a safe haven for the flying bodies. Well, at least that's what I believe in!