26/11 – Justice or Jest?

Some questions:
Why is the 26/11 trial not in the headlines since the past few days?
Why is Judge Tahilyani allowing Kasab to play games with the Indian judicial system?
Why should Kasab be given the ‘innocent-until-proven-guilty’ treatment when all the world has seen the evidence of his crime?
What ‘cooperation’ can India expect from Pakistan when our own judiciary is willing to be pushed around by undertrials and their unethical lawyers?
Why should a state have any but punitive dealings with a terrorist?
What is more important – to do justice and punish the criminal or to show the world how civil and fair India is?
Isn’t the tourism industry a better platform for showcasing India’s hospitality than a trial court?
Aren’t there any witnesses among the commandos and policemen who captured Kasab from the scene of crime and whose statement alone will be incriminating?
If the 26/11 crime has officially been termed a war, why are we running this farce of a civil trial?
Where are the people who attacked Anjali Waghmare’s house for accepting the assignment given her by the judge? Why aren’t they attacking his current lawyer, who’s using every lousy trick in the book to prolong this trial and make a joke of the judiciary?
Does the ‘judicial process’ necessarily require a total suspension of common sense and logic?
Is this how any other country have dealt with a deshdrohi, an enemy of the nation?
Is this how the US tried Saddam, or Iran a spying journalist?
Is this what the victims and survivors of 26/11 deserve?
Is this what the late Salaskar, Kamthe, and Karkare died for?
When, oh when, will India show some self-respect?

Duniya – the lyrics

The ripple effects of Anurag Kashyap’s Gulaal are manifest in the number of people looking for the lyrics of the now-famous Duniya, the song that encapsulates the message of the movie in Piyush Mishra’s masterful verses. 

The number and nature of mistakes in several versions currently available on the Internet have motivated me enough to post the lyrics here – correct to the limits of my aural abilities. (This has been written down the old-fashioned way, by listening to the song and writing along.)

O ri Duniya…
Surmayi aankhon ke pyaalon ki duniya
Satrangi rangon, gulaalon ki duniya
Alsaayi sejon ke phoolon ki duniya
Angdayi todey kabootar ki duniya
Karvat le soyi hakeekat ki duniya
Deevani hoti tabiyat ki duniya
Khwahish me lipti zaroorat ki duniya
Insaan ke sapnon ki, niyat ki duniya

Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye to kya hai

Mamta ki bikhari kahani ki duniya
Behnon ki siski, javani ki duniya
Aadam ke Havva se rishte ki duniya
Shayar ke pheeke lafzon ki duniya

Ghalib ke, Momin ke khwabon ki duniya
Mijaazon ke, un inquilabon ki duniya
Faiz, Firaq-O-Sahil-O-Makhdoom, Mir ki, Zauk ki, Daagon ki duniya

Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye to kya hai…

Palchhin me baatein chali jati hain
Palchhin me raatein chali jati hain
Reh jata hai jo savera vo dhoonde
Jalte makaan me basera vo dhoonde
Jaisi bachi hai, vaisi ki vaisi bacha lo ye duniya
Apna samajhke, apnon ke jaisi utha lo ye duniya
Chhut-put si baaton mein jalne lagegi, sambhalo ye duniya
Kat-pit ke raaton mein palne lagegi, sambhalo ye duniya

O ri duniya…

Vo kahen hai ki duniya ye itni nahi hai
Sitaron se aage jahan aur bhi hai
Yeh hum hi nahi hai, vahan aur bhi hai
Hamari har ek baat hoti vahin hai
Hume aitraaz nahi hai kahin bhi
Vo Aalim hai, Faazil hai, honge sahi hi
Magar falsafa ye bigad jata hai jo vo kehte hain
Aalim ye kehta vahan Eeshwar hai
Fazil ye kehta vahan Allah hai
Qatil ye kehta vahan Eesa hai
Manzil ye kehti tab insaan se ki
Tumhari hai tum hi sambhalo ye duniya
Yeh bujhte huay chand basi chiraagon
Tumhare ye kaale iraadon ki duniya…

Action v/s Thought

I am one of the few lucky Mumbaiites who need not travel by the city’s famed (and feared) local trains on a daily basis in the course of earning my livelihood.
Yesterday, however, I had to travel by a local on the Central line. Luckily, it was a non-business route and therefore far less crowded than is the norm. (A non-business route train is one that in Mumbai lingo is in the ‘opposite’ direction, i.e. running from a ‘happening’ source station to an ‘unhap’ destination.)
However, the school vacations ensured that there was a good number of housewives, mothers and children in attendance, probably visiting relatives. I eventually managed to get a seat, which was a relief considering I was lugging a rather heavy bag.

As my station approached, I got up and joined the ‘queue’ of disembarkers that had already formed at the door. Near me was standing the most frail woman I’ve seen in recent times. She was short, even by my diminutive standards, and so thin that the very sari she wore seemed too heavy for her. She balanced a very small child on her left hip, and a medium-sized bag hung from her right shoulder. Her older daughter held on to her free hand. The woman seemed quite young, but all the strain of bearing and rearing two children at an early age showed on her drained face.

At this sorry sight, my thoughts went into activist mode – I imagined her being married off straight out of school, if she had ever been to one, then being cloistered in a small world comprising an alcoholic husband and abusive parents-in-law, pulling through early childbirth, struggling to keep her life as normal as possible. Righteous anger rose in me at our senselessly skewed social norms which had created such pitiful circumstances for women like her.

As my thoughts rambled on in this vein, and the train rumbled towards the station, another young salwar-kameez-clad girl came up to our protagonist, and said simply in Marathi, “Tila mee ghetey.” (“I’ll take her.”) and picked up the woman’s older child! I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the speaker. She had offered a simple, practical solution while I was uselessly engrossed in high-falutin’ activisty thoughts!
(For a nanosecond, I even caught myself wondering if they were sisters, so I could justify to myself that the offer of help was a matter of course!)

As we got off and walked away in opposite directions, I made a mental note to take a long hard look in the mirror!

The Power of Hatred

An observation of the world around us tells me that the power of hatred is far greater than that of love; despite what we’ve been taught through school and college, and what poems and inspirational speakers tell us. As an example, consider that you are in Big Brother’s/Boss’/Whoever’s house and have been given a choice of two tasks to complete within one week:

1. Go into an unknown neighbourhood, gather a random group of people and incite them to start a riot.

2. Go into an unknown neighbourhood, gather a random group of people and inspire them to work for the underprivileged.

If there was a cash award involved, Task 1 would be most people’s choice.

Even without a juvenile example like the one above, it should be easy to realise that hatred spreads far more quickly and stays more rooted than love. Why else should terrorism spread unchecked while NGOs struggle to survive? You might argue that there’s more money involved in terrorism than in running NGOs. But think for a moment why that is. Why does money flow towards organisations preaching hatred? For the answer, see the first sentence of this paragraph.

I personally know of an incident involving a friend – educated, employed with a globally reputed firm, from a good family – who joined a rioting mob on impulse, for no reason that he can recall now. He didn’t actually commit an act of violence, but the very fact that he was drawn into the mob like a zombie, as it were, is bizarre enough. All he can say now is that ‘mob mentality’ is extremely contagious and difficult to resist.

 I find this extremely scary. A man’s education and upbringing are of no use to him when confronted by a mob, his only choice is to join them or suffer.

But the more important point here is that the mob gets its power from hatred. They may claim to be held together by their love and commitment towards their ’cause’, whatever it may be, but the fact is that they are united by a common enemy, a common object of hatred. You don’t see the same power in, say, a group of pilgrims chanting hymns of devotion or slogans of peace.

One explanation for this phenomenon is that hatred creates fear, and power has its roots in fear. We commonly use the phrase ‘God-fearing’, but have you heard of anyone described as a ‘God-loving’ person?