What it takes to piss someone off

For the longest time, I've been a crusader for the political, judicial, social and defence systems of India. Whenever somebody has called the police 'rishvatkhor', I have pointed out the likes of Hemant Karkare, the ex-ATS chief who died in the line of duty, and others. I am even okay with corrupt politicians, so long as they are doing good work – work that they are meant to do. What is the government doing about the city's infrastructure? I point to the various skywalks which people conveniently forget to use; the bridges that, while they were being built, earned several brickbats for the Shiv Sena (who propagated and pushed for their construction), but which today are a boon for the city.

So when someone who has always backed the country's lawmakers and keepers gets pissed at them, it has to really be the result of absolute frustration – frustration that comes at the end of a feeling of helplessness. Yes, I am pissed off. At the fact that a little girl gets asked to get off the local bus for not having change. At the fact that there is no place to walk on the city's streets. At the fact that people do not follow traffic rules. At the fact that roads are constantly under construction and nothing ever seems to get built. I am complaining for the first time in the 22 years of my existence on Earth. I would like, as a non-complaining individual, to have my issues redressed, by people who genuinely give a damn about the country; enough to drag it back from the hell that it is fast hurtling towards.

The common man complains only when something directly affects him – the same is the case with me. I tried to put up with it – but for how long? I'm not an unreasonable person, one who would knock on the President's door because someone ran a red light. But when every day I have to wait indefinitely to cross the main road because the light at the Saifee Ambulance junction of E. R. Road doesn't mean squat and people have to take a chance and cross on a whim, yes, it pisses me off. I get scared to say ‘no’ to run an errand for my mother. Why? Because if she has to do it herself, she will have to go through that same shit to get to the other side of the road to finish it. But she’s arthritic and can't do the ridiculous dance expected of her to get across a street where there are black and white stripes on the road (as if mocking everyone) and a traffic light just above her head as she waits to cross. At such times, yes, I do get pissed off.

So here’s the deal. What is going to be done about it? Probably nothing. What am I doing about it besides venting my frustration through words? Nothing. But maybe I can appeal to pedestrains to follow signals. Maybe then the vehicle drivers will be shamed into stopping when the light turns red. Maybe I will send this letter to a newspaper’s editor. Maybe I will do something about it. What are you going to do?

From Bombay Meri Jaan to Mumbai Le Le Jaan

Outrage. Anger. Frustration. Bloodlust. These are just some of the emotions coursing through the veins of every Mumbaikar, or at least every Mumbaikar with a conscience at this point in time. The trigger – the Keenan Santos and Reuben Fernandez incident at Amboli.

For those who are unaware — and I don’t know how that possibly might be true — these two young men were stabbed to death for facing up to hooligans who sexually harassed a girl. The question in everyone’s mind is – how could this possibly happen?

The answer is simple – when people around are so dead within their souls, so mindfuckingly numb to everything but that which concerns them directly, then yes, this is possible. And in this incident one might say that the goons were many in number and were armed, which is why nobody tried to help the two bravehearts. Fine. Answer this, then. A colleague at work told me about this incident which drove the final nail in the coffin of Mumbai’s ‘safe’ status, for me. A few days ago, in a BEST bus (and everyone knows how crowded they can be), a man tried to act fresh with a girl. I don’t know details, but, in response, the girl turned around and slapped him. The bastard slapped the girl so hard, that she flew against the railing behind the driver. If this were not enough, the motherfucker tore apart the girl’s shirt and when she slapped him again, he kept molesting her again and again. And how could this POSSIBLY occur in a local bus full of so-called human beings who are fucking-excuses-for-what-call-themselves MEN? Same reason as the Santos/Fernandez incident could take place. And this was even more shameful, considering it was just ONE son-of-a-fucker who was completely unarmed. So yes, maybe the people on the bus were scared and worried about being safe because they had to think of their families. Well, all the men who were on that bus that day, and I hope at least SOME of you see this, I hope you picture your sisters/mothers/wives/girlfriends/grandmothers in place of that girl the next time you think about the episode. THAT is my curse to you. Now let me know if you can sleep peacefully at night. It seems the girl hurled abuses at the ‘men’ before getting off the bus. She called them eunuchs. I wouldn’t have. Because they were not even human, much less eunuchs. I believe eunuchs would stand up against such injustice. And what were the women doing? My friend (and I was disappointed in her for this) was crying. But why couldn’t a couple of women stand up and beat the fuckhead up? All it would take would be two or maybe three women. What happened to their souls? Are they so dead from all the molesting that they go through that it’s become routine? And so this seemed like nothing out of the blue?

All of these mindnumbing incidents have finally convinced me of something which I had known to be true for a while now, but was trying to forget. Others told me that was not the case, and I tried to believe them. But the fact can no longer be ignored – the city is changing. There’s something evil brewing within it, waiting to spread. And the people — the kind who commit such heinous crimes, as well as the kind who stand by and watch while it happens — are the hosts to this parasite. What they don’t realise is that this parasite is going to infect their lives so badly (and I hope to god that it does), that they will beg to die and not be granted that relief.

So yes, there was a time when I, at age 12, could return home all alone from a class at midnight with not a care in the world. Today, a decade later at 22, I am a bit apprehensive about travelling alone beyond 10/11pm. These incidents condition women to feel lucky if they return safe at night, rather than feel that it’s their right to be safe in this city that is the Mayanagari. The Mayanagari is changing. The sinister underbelly is boiling. And when nobody gives a fucking rat’s ass about it, the temperature only goes up and, those fuckers out on the streets only get bolder.

The Bombay city of dreams is no more. What has been left behind in its place is a dirty, filthy Mumbai that everyone believes is their oyster, that they can do as they choose with it, because clearly, nobody is going to touch them, no matter what their crime. The CM says the goons who harassed the girl and stabbed Keenan and Reuben should be hanged. Well, I will believe it when I see it. Until then, this city will be alien to me, a city that has gone from being the love of our lives, to the city that wants to snatch our lives.

For anyone who can still claim to have a soul, please, do sign up for this petition: SIGN A PETITION FOR ZERO TOLERANCE Petition | GoPetition

Mumbai Blasts

Having recently returned from a holiday, I thought my next post would be about the experiences I had there. But that will have to wait. Another thing must take precedence over it. A more important, but a far sadder event.

The Mumbai blasts which took place today, July 13, 2011 - at Opera House, Dadar and Zaveri Bazar - were a really sad welcome to the city. So far, over 20 lives have been lost and more than 100 people have been injured. Amid all this, there are rumours floating around about terrorist Ajmal Kasab - it is said it's his birthday today. Then they say it was a false alarm; then again they claim that it is his birthday according to the Urdu calendar. I have one question - Who the F cares when the man was born, when all we are praying for at this point is when he will die?!

It's at times like these that one really appreciates life. I was in Zaveri Bazaar just a week ago; a friend was there until 5 minutes before the blast happened! How is one supposed to know which place is safe anymore? Of course we can't know. So we're just supposed to say a little prayer and step out of the house, hoping we'll get back safely. WHY?

As Naseeruddin Shah says in A Wednesday, "We're not resilient by choice, we're resilient by force". Do we choose to be resilient now? But if we do, are we going to be forced to retaliate in a much worse way in the not-so-distant future?