
A warm cozy bed facing crystal clear glass doors leading to a patio..
overcast with thick heavy gray skies, and the wonderful powdery, silvery fresh snow. The gently sloping tiled red roof now half blanketed with nature's purest white, the chimney determinedly puffing little clouds of smoke and a gentle breeze causing the tiny flagpole to sway in a rhythm.
A deep breath causes the glass to fog up as I selfishly feel happy to be alive. After reading the violence of the Mumbai massacre and listening to the oily politicians handing out well worn clichés of Mumbai's spirit I feel angry, hurt, scared , confused and uncertain just like all my other countrymen and women. A million miles does not diminish the angst nor does it lessen the pain. I know now what they mean when they say the heart bleeds. After days of being riveted to the TV, of constantly refreshing the online pages for all the major online newspapers, of frantic calls to the homeland to make sure the next of kin are safe and secure, the bright bold font declaring the siege to be over far from calmed my mind. It just opened up a dizzying array of defragmented thoughts. What was the chief of the ATS doing without a bullet proof jacket? Aren't counter attack specialists supposed to be like the immortal Terminator? What causes so much hatred in the terrorist's minds that they can give up their own life? And why and how do a bunch of twenty odd derailed minds hold an entire nation hostage? And what about the the people who became unwilling martyrs? Now mere statistics unless they were famous or related to someone famous or of a different nationality? What about the survivors? Will they be scarred for life and haunted for decades to come? Will anyone ever now live in these magnificent hotels without hearing the echoes of death and terror from the past? Just a couple of weeks back we celebrated the feat of putting flags on the moon, and now it all seems so pointless, an ugly tug of war where we step ten feet ahead in space and then a hundred feet back in time letting religion and the color of passports a visa for life?
Suddenly all my earthly problems seem like a figment of my imagination. The pressures of the daily nine to five grind and ever present unending thesis, of constantly moving furniture around and of paying bills and anxiously awaiting paychecks. This Thanksgiving I had a lot to be thankful for, most importantly life. And then again a debate was waged, if I were to die now would I be a mere statistic? If I were to chose between an inferno and a bullet, what would I chose? Am I ready to face death yet? Is anyone ever ready? There are always words to be said, things to be done, another day hoped to be lived..
I draw a smiley in the fog on the glass and make my new year's resolution...
to live meaningfully!!!
1 comment:
Good one Pinks.....
We here at Ground Zero felt equally angry, frustrated & helpless. Some of us cried too.
But when the emotions subsided a bit (you can doubt that, btw!) & we could think a little more clearly, a logical debate raged...
Our first reaction was to blame the bloody politicians & their ineffcient system. It dawned upon us that the candle light peace march & blah-blah was actually not going to change anything....Change can be expected only when a common man takes things in his hands...And by that i don't mean "the Law".
Then the next one was to break our heads to find What "I" can do about the situation rather than just cry?
We concluded that we actually have no right to blame anybody for what has come upon us. To borrow words from Gita - "You get not what you desire, but what you deserve!"
We deserve this.
When was the last time we actually took efforts to know about those who would govern us before we voted. Do we even know the name of local corporator, let alone the MLA or MP, who's looking after our ward.
We are responsible for the current political system. We have let the believe that come what may, however they treat us, we won't react... We won't roll up our sleeves & try clean up this gutter!
So, we can choose between the two - Armchair Hope OR Operation "Action"!
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