tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59898064688454175152024-02-19T22:24:03.818+05:30JoyPop"I pray you, in your stories, when you shall these unlucky deeds relate, speak of me as i am;
nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice."seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-18441764862812646182011-05-07T11:59:00.000+05:302011-05-07T12:03:21.526+05:30Who is to blame?Who Is To Blame?<br /><br />To gain insight into the thought process of a leader of the likes of Idi Amin, one must try to figure out what drives a fanatic-such as him. Most of us are aware that behind the facade of a bigot there is a staunch supporter of equality for women/or atleast of a man who appears to give equal status to women. And I would rather stand up in support of the latter view point.<br />From recent reports we know of one of his famous nurses, who is a Ukranian, and fled Libya. The female in discussion also owned up that she didnt flee out of fear of the man whom she knew as 'Papik' or little father, rather she did it for personal reasons (as she was four months pregnant with the child of her Serbian Boyfriend). She confesses to being treated as royalty while she was acting as a nurse in the team of Muammar Gaddafi and trashes the claims that the nurses were a part of Gaddafi's harem.<br />Gaddafi's only daughter Ayesha-Al-Gaddafi(who was once married to Idi Amin) is a lawyer and was in the team defending Saddam Hussein. Ever since her divorce, she has been re-married.<br />Other than that, Gaddafi has an army of women bodyguards who have been adequately trained in martial arts.<br />While some contest that all of these facts might be evidence of his idiosyncracies, he is the only dictator alive ( and of importance) who has in fact shown such trust in women.<br />Getting back to the US-Libyan attacks, we must start with the 'freedom of the seas' which was/is one of the main issues between the two nations and can be termed as the germinating point of their hostile relationship.<br />'Freedom of the seas' was one of President Woodrow Wilson's fourteen points which was proposed during the First World War. According to the proposal, every country would have freedom to navigate the water which surrounded any other nation as it was his contention that the waters were all common, unlike territory. The concept was highle opposed by Germany, France and Britain- who rejected it.<br />Freedom of the Seas was replaced by United Nations Convention on the Laws of the sea. However, when in 1945, the then President of the United States, Harry S Truman, himself extended the rights of his nation to the entire continental shelf surrounding his States, many other countries like Argentina, Chile, Ecudor and Peru extended their rights to a distance of 200 nautical miles while other nations extended their territorial seas to 12 nautical miles.<br />However, till about 1982, when United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) III was present, the original UNCLOS was adapted and adjusted as per the policies of different nations because no consensus could be reached.<br />This time of confusion was also the period when in 1973, Gaddafi claimed much of the Gulf of Sidra to be within Libyan territorial waters by drawing a straight line between Benghazi and Misrata with an exclusive 62 nautical miles (115 km) fishing zone. Gaddafi declared it 'The Line of Death', the crossing of which would invite a military response.<br />Somehow this practice of actively charting out a region, calling it the line of death was inacceptable to the US and as per its standard practice, the US claimed its rights to conduct naval operations on international waters, at a distance of a standard of 12 nautical miles from Libya's shore. Gaddafi claimed it as territorial sea as opposed to a purely coastal area of the region.<br />If we look back, a lot of discussions could have been initiated from either of the two sides which would have saved a lot of lives and limb, however, the United States chose to authorize its naval forces to conduct 'Freedom of Navigation' operation in the 'Line of Death.'<br />For some time it was reported that military planes of the US were harassed by Libyan fighter planes, but till 1973, no major voilence was witnessed in the region.<br />On March 21, 1973, when Libya encounted US Air Force planes conducting signals intelligence off the Libyan coast, they intercepted and fired on the US planes. What is to be noted is that even during the clash, Libyan fighters gave signals to the C-130 of the US to land in Libya, but the American Planes chose to take evasive action. As a result the Libyans restored to firing cannons on these planes; however, the C-130 were able to escape from the spot.<br />What poses a question here is that if the Americans were not within 75 nautical miles from the Libyan coast then why would they try to flee, despite the fact that they were asked to land in the area?<br />Once again in 1986, United States Navy deployed three aircraft task force groups with 225 aircraft and approximately 30 warships across the "Line of Death" and into the disputed Gulf of Sidra. What followed was a day of conflict and an unknown number of human lives were lost in the process. Lot of harm was done to the Libyan territory, even though the Americans escaped unhurt.<br />Two weeks later there was a bomb explosion in La Belle of West Berlin, which resulted in wouding 200 people and killing three. Initially, Libya was targeted as the master mind of these bombings as Gaddafi had publicly announced that revenge would be sought from Western powers. The judge in the trial, on the other hand, admitted that it was not clear whether Gaddafi or Libyan intelligence had actually ordered the attack. Once again, the United States claimed to have obtained cable transcripts from Libyan agents in East Germany.<br />After several days of the incident, which witnessed US President Ronald Reagen entering into diplomatic talks with European and Arab forces, 37 fighter planes were ordered to strike targets in Libya. The attack lasted for about ten minutes, but killing Two American airmen, Forty-five Libyan soldiers and government officials as well as fifteen civilians. One of those killed was a child nammed Hannah, who is said to be the adopted daughter of Colonel Gaddafi. 2000 people were injured in the incident.<br />Whether the incidence is quoted to be a retributive measure is a questionable fact; evidently it caused much more harm than any punishment would ever suffice to guarantee.<br />In 1988, the 'Lockerbie Bombing' of Pan Am Flight 103 was witnessed in which former intelligence officer of the Libyan Government, Megrahi was the key accused. He was found guilty by the court even though the verdict was condemned widely as being a "spectacular miscarriage of justice". The appeals were repeatedly denied and delayed. Finally, Colonel Gaddafi compensated the victims of the crash in an attempt and formed diplomatic ties with the nations to secure release of his innocent officer.<br />As on this day, Colonel Gaddafi maintains that all his acts since his declaration of peace have been for defence purpose and he is not involved in any form of social injustice; he claims that his acts are misquoted by western media in an effort to deface him. It is widely known that he Muammar Gaddafi has publicly supported a lot of authoritarians, while he vehemently accused the western forces of America and Europe. Whether this support can be construed as his involvement in incidents of disruption of peace is definitely questionable.<br />On 17th March, 2011, the United Nations passed UNSCR, 1973 wich was proposed by France, Lebanon and UK and is adoped as a measure to ensure stability in Libya's condition. Ten members of the Security Council voted their approval for the resolution to be passed, while five of them including Russia and China (who are permanent members) abstained from voting. India was a part of the five who did not vote.<br />The Resolution vows to use all means necessary to protect civilians in Libya. According to a news report today, the US vows to support the rebels and provide all aid to them; the money which they propose to be so utilised would be drained out of Gaddafi's securities held with the States.<br />To me, the whole scenario is reminiscent of the situation in Nicargua in 1984, when the Americans were supporting the Rebels of that region. In the case, The Republic of Nicaragua v. The United States of America, the ICJ declared that America's stance was unlawful and without justification and nicargua won the case while US questioned ICJ's authority to sit in judgement. However, USA made sure that it blocked UN Security Council from enforcing the judgement and escaped without paying any compensation. This time too, a similar situation has arisen, what is sad is the fact that the world chooses to be blindfolded.seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-71297569835204317052011-05-04T13:39:00.000+05:302011-05-04T13:41:25.842+05:30American politics in the world arena<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: 18px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: none; "><p class="s3" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: center; "><span class="s2">American Politics in the World Arena</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">Having heard about the </span><span class="s2">(</span><span class="s2">much</span><span class="s2">) sic.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">Controversial</span><span class="s2"> death of the Al-</span><span class="s2">Qaeda</span><span class="s2"> head, Osama Bin Laden, I'm forced to nurture my deep rooted </span><span class="s2">dismay at American Politics which uses the world as its playground.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">The same emotion had vibrated through every nerve in my body, when, in 2006</span><span class="s2">, Saddam Hussein was sent to the gallows</span><span class="s2">.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">Knowing that the 9/11 attack and it's </span><span class="s2">repercussions</span><span class="s2"> gave little to no-evidence to the American </span><span class="s2">politicians against the Taliban, it becomes rather difficult to digest the fact that America felt that it was justified in </span><span class="s2">entering</span><span class="s2"> Iraq to take matters in its </span><span class="s2">own</span><span class="s2">hands.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">It all began </span><span class="s2">when from 1979 through 1989 under U.S. Presidents Carter and Reagan, </span><span class="s2">the United States CIA provided</span><span class="s2">covert financial aid, arms and training to Osama's Islamic Jihad</span><span class="s2">Mujahedeen </span><span class="s2">through </span><span class="s2">Operation Cyclone and Reagan Doctrine</span><span class="s2">. President Reagan often praised the Mujahideen as Afghanistan's "Freedom Fighters."</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">Thereafter, </span><span class="s2">s</span><span class="s2">ocial unrest w</span><span class="s2">as witnessed in Iraq among </span><span class="s2">Shi'ite Muslims, Kurds, and military units</span><span class="s2">;</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">the</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">uprising was repressed by Saddam's Government. Whether the uprising was </span><span class="s2">silenced in an ethical manner or not, is not a matter which should have be</span><span class="s2">en considered by the outsiders</span><span class="s2">.</span><span class="s2"> what needs a curious eye is-what or who</span><span class="s2"> brought such disruption among the major social groups which existed in the region.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">The world knows that </span><span class="s2">the United States had been a major cause for the rebellion </span><span class="s2">but </span><span class="s2">it did nothing to show </span><span class="s2">its</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">support to the rebellion when the need</span><span class="s2">ar</span><span class="s2">ose</span><span class="s2">. </span><span class="s2">What I fail to understand is that if at one </span><span class="s2">point in time US felt that it was in the right</span><span class="s2"> for suppo</span><span class="s2">rting people to act against the Iraqi Government</span><span class="s2">, then why was it so difficult </span><span class="s2">for it</span><span class="s2">to come </span><span class="s2">up front</span><span class="s2"> and show active strength to the retaliating groups?</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">When </span><span class="s2">Saddam's army won against the crisis which was disrupting its nation</span><span class="s2">, the U.S launched a missile attack at Iraq's intelligence headquarters in Baghdad in 1993. The basis </span><span class="s2">was as obscure as was the attack itself. It was claimed that Ira</span><span class="s2">q</span><span class="s2"> had violated the 'no-fly zones' which were imposed after the Gulf War</span><span class="s2"> and for their invasion of Kuwait</span><span class="s2">. </span><span class="s2">The Iraqi</span><span class="s2"> invasion of Quwait un</span><span class="s2">der </span><span class="s2">Sadddam Hussein </span><span class="s2">on August 2, 1990 put the Saudi kingdom at risk</span><span class="s2">.</span><span class="s2"> Bin Laden met with </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fahd_of_Saudi_Arabia"><span class="s6" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">King Fahd</span></a><span class="s2"> telling</span><span class="s2">him</span><span class="s2"> not to depend on non-Muslim assistance from the United States and others, </span><span class="s2">offering to help defend Saudi Arabia with his mujahideen. Bin Laden's offer was rebuffed, and after the Saudi monarchy invited the deployment of U.S. troops in Saudi territory, Osama publicly denounced Saudi Arabia's dependence on the U.S. military. </span><span class="s2">What </span><span class="s2">is obscene</span><span class="s2"> is</span><span class="s2"> not only the fact that the US was condemning its ally with the sole responsebility of the attack on Quwait but</span><span class="s2"> the fact that in the same era, the Clinton Government had itself launched air-strikes in the 'Iraqi no-fly zones'.</span><span class="s2"></span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">Iraqi oil exports were blocked by the UN which resulted in the economy of the nation getting hit in a manner which would never allow it to re-e</span><span class="s2">merge from the crisis. Again, playing by the rule of the thumb, the US tried to create an illusion of a well-wisher where in fact it was the cause of the </span><span class="s2">disruption</span><span class="s2"> to begin with</span><span class="s2">. As a result, in 1996, the United Nations allowed Saddam's Government to begin selling </span><span class="s2">limited</span><span class="s2"> oil for food</span><span class="s2">.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">For</span><span class="s2">the next </span><span class="s2">two years, Iraq survived UN's access to suspected weapons of mass destruction </span><span class="s2">and it became the cause for US and British missile strikes on Iraq in 1998. </span><span class="s2">Eventually</span><span class="s2">,</span><span class="s2"> in 2001 US and British warplanes struck hard in Baghdad.</span><span class="s2"> What poses a huge question </span><span class="s2">here</span><span class="s2"> is </span><span class="s2">whether a mere </span><span class="s2">suspicion</span><span class="s2"> authorized the world powers to do that</span><span class="s2">-</span><span class="s2"> which </span><span class="s2">they</span><span class="s2"> had opposed and accused the Iraqi's of and that too in a more uncivilized manner?</span><span class="s2"> At this junction it is important to </span><span class="s2">remember</span><span class="s2"> that Iraq </span><span class="s2">had not tried to show non-cooperation for allowing the UN suspicion to die down, there were, in fact </span><span class="s2">intermittent spells of Iraqi co-operation with UN inspection teams.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">In 2002, a resolution </span><span class="s2">was passed by the European Union and the Commission for Human Rights which accused President Saddam Hussein's Government of g</span><span class="s2">ross violations of Human rights. At this point in time, it must be understood that most of these violations culminated from the point in time when the Gulf War backed by the US and the social-boycott were exercised by the US and the UN in conjugation with each other. Whether, </span><span class="s2">physical and mental abuse of people is not carried out in other democracies is for the world to consider; but when the people rise in opposition of such injustice then it is unjustified for other countries to sit in j</span><span class="s2">udgement over such issues, because the whole process of social subjugation </span><span class="s2">is</span><span class="s2">existing across the</span><span class="s2"> world and is not limited to specific regions.</span><span class="s2">Some nations are able to subside controversies by show of strength and (as in the present case) others have to sit before a panel of equally corrupt nations.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">In 2001, information compiled by the Western intelligence agencies was released by British Prime Minister, Tony Blair that</span><span class="s2"> show</span><span class="s2">s</span><span class="s2"> a connection between </span><span class="s2">Osama bin Laden </span><span class="s2">and the Taliban in Afghanistan.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">It was </span><span class="s2">'</span><span class="s2">suspected</span><span class="s2">'</span><span class="s2"> that the </span><span class="s2">Taliban government gave </span><span class="s2">protection to </span><span class="s2">Osama bin Laden in the years leading up to </span><span class="s2">9/11 attack on US and that the </span><span class="s2">al-Qaeda network</span><span class="s2">'</span><span class="s2">may</span><span class="s2">'</span><span class="s2"> have had a close relationship with the Taliban army and po</span><span class="s2">lice.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">The United States directed the Taliban to shut down a</span><span class="s2">ll al-Qaeda </span><span class="s2">based activities</span><span class="s2"> in Afghanistan</span><span class="s2">, opening them up for inspection and turning over Osama Bin Laden to the </span><span class="s2">S</span><span class="s2">tates. However, all these reques</span><span class="s2">ts were refused even though the Government</span><span class="s2"> offered to </span><span class="s2">extradite Osama bin Laden to an Islamic country</span><span class="s2">. Such extradition was for the purpose of</span><span class="s2"> trial under Islamic law</span><span class="s2"> but only on one condition-</span><span class="s2"> if the United States presented evidence of </span><span class="s2">Osama's</span><span class="s2"> guilt.</span><span class="s2"> Evidence was put forth by the US which the </span><span class="s2">Taliban deemed </span><span class="s2">insufficient</span><span class="s2"> for the purpose of extradition. Whether the Taliban was supposed to act as a stooge in the hands of the Western powers and </span><span class="s2">lose all power of independent decision making is questionable. If a nation is restricted from taking such decisions after evaluating the evidence put before it, then I clearly fail to see the 'Independence" which can be </span><span class="s2">bestowed on a Free State.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">The Bush Government invaded and overthrew the Taliban in 2001. </span><span class="s2">As per a statement of the Bush Administration released at that time, the US was unwilling to make a</span><span class="s2"> distinction between the terrorists and those who harbor them</span><span class="s2">. This clearly proved the </span><span class="s2">autocratic tendencies which the Administration harbored and its show of power which refused to accept the independent enquiry led by a so-called free nation.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">In, early 2003, Saddam Hussein was part of a three hour interview with CBS News and during the interview he expressed a wish to have a live televised debate with the then President of U.S, Mr. George W.Bush, but the same was declined. If the U.S had come to the battle-field with clean hands then I do not see a reason why the offer should have been declined.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">On November 29, 2007 a videotape was released</span><span class="s2">, which the CIA says was likely to be from Osama Bin Laden and by way of which the speaker takes sole</span><span class="s2"> responsibility for the attacks and specifically denies any prior knowledge of them by The Taliban or the </span><span class="s2">Afghan People. But, it was too late in the day to make a difference, since a lot of water had already flown under the </span><span class="s2">Bridge, a lot of innocent lives had already been sacrificed on both corners of the world, and the most prominent scapegoat among them was Saddam Hussein.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">What really made a lot of people across the world furious about the whole process was the fact that the Man who was once a President of a nation was not only broadcasted in his underwear of leading daily magazines, but was so maltreated while in prison that it </span><span class="s2">should have been</span><span class="s2"> shameful </span><span class="s2">for a </span><span class="s2">nation</span><span class="s2">(like US)</span><span class="s2"> which believed in civilized way of judgement</span><span class="s2">.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">To add insult to the injury</span><span class="s2"> for the US</span><span class="s2">, the infamous and</span><span class="s2">malicious case of the abuse at Abu Ghraib prison was exposed. Gross violations of human rights and ethical prisoner abuse were being carried out at the hands of US soldiers who were </span><span class="s2">in charge</span><span class="s2"> of the Prison in Baghdad. But what did the US do to counter the </span><span class="s2">situation;</span><span class="s2"> did it hang the accused-like it did in the case of Saddam Hussein? One of the main accused, </span><span class="s2">Charles A. Graner, Jr.</span><span class="s2">,</span><span class="s2"> (born 1968 was convicted of in connection with the</span><span class="s2">Abu Ghraib prisoner abuse scandal</span><span class="s2">.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">He was found guilty of all charges on January 14, 2005, and sentenced to 10 years in prison, demotion to private, dishonorable discharge and forfeiture of pay and allowances.</span><span class="s2"> The fate of</span><span class="s2"> others like him was no different.</span></p><p class="s5" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 5px; line-height: 1.8; text-align: justify; "><span class="s2">The reason why I get furious about America's stand as a reformist and an </span><span class="s2">avenger</span><span class="s2"> is that it trots on areas which lie beyond its own territory and jurisdiction. The reason which it gives in support of such incursion </span><span class="s2">is either insufficient or unreasonable, but never unbiased. The US basis its whole theory on one fact-that inhumanity will not be accepted and that no leader has the power to sit in judgement over its subjects in a way which would either treat them in an inhumanly manner or would kill such subjects. But then what US itself inflicts on such leaders is no less inhumane. If their basic presumption is that no person has the power to send the other to the gallows then how do they justify their acts of </span><span class="s2">infiltration, </span><span class="s2">massacre</span><span class="s2"> and</span><span class="s2">insurgency?</span><span class="s2"> After all, what Osama Bin Laden and Saddam Hussein were getting involved in was their way of sitting in judgement. If a nation does not approve of these tactics, then how does it justify itself stooping to the </span><span class="s2">lowly</span><span class="s2"> le</span><span class="s2">vels of those whom it condemns </span><span class="s2">by</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">meting</span><span class="s2"> out the same treatment to those whom it disapproves of? In fact, </span><span class="s2">isn't</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">it </span><span class="s2">using </span><span class="s2">the same tactic as was used by the</span><span class="s2"> Taliban and the Al-Qaeda</span><span class="s2"> and which it vehemently condemns</span><span class="s2">?</span></p></span>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-12877247044033572712011-04-26T12:19:00.004+05:302011-04-26T12:30:16.066+05:30Why should we choose to be blindfolded by strangers adorning the garb of virtue???<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Helvetica;color:#4D80B43B;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: medium; "><span>Ok Mr. V. S achuthanandan- trust me your cause to stand in favour of ban on endosulfan is good. But I think it's more of a gimmick. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: medium; "><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: medium; "><span>Afterall, did you not ask for an all party delegation from Kerala to visit the Stockholm convention in geneva? Im sorry, but i did not realize that a picnic was on the cards. While we are at it- why dont you tell us your choice of world class airlines, hotel and the menu???</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: medium; "><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: medium; "><span>Also you expect me to believe that you care for the victims of endosulfan even when once upon a time you passed lewd remarks against major unnikrishnan and his family? Ah well, i should not be overtly critical here. Right? You might say that those poor people who were the victims of endosulfan didnt bring it on themselves whereas the major attracted danger by entering the service. RIGHT???Not to forget- did you organise an exhibition of paintings as a prelude to your program? yeah well maybe thats a great way to raise money rather than knowledge about the perils of the substance.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: medium; "><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: medium; "><span>DUDE YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME.</span></span></span></span>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-2228097467825835122011-04-09T13:34:00.001+05:302011-04-09T13:37:03.225+05:30We the people of india<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); font-size: 18px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: none; "><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">It all began three days back for me; my landlady was fervently watching the news channel </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">so that it could propel her anxious self to new levels of frenzy. As </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">I</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> entered </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">the</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> fourth floor apartment located in "town", Mumbai</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> I found myself asking her, "</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">W</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">hat is it today aunty, what will you be filling me in with?"</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">"Anna Hazare! ANTI-CORRUPTION!"</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">The splendor and spark in her eyes were hard to dismiss.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">"What is it? </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Please t</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">ell me about it."</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">My Landlady filled me in with the current situation, about the rejection of the Lok Pal Bills and the </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">magnificence</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> of the Man called Anna. All I could gather on my part was his slogan of anti-corruption (of course).</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">As easy as it is for me to </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">enquire about the current position of the country and the news surrounding us, is the fact that my appetite for it is quenched quite easily. </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">By the time I came back from work the next evening, I was </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">greeted</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> by umpteen status messages, posts and videos of Anna Hazare. Most of them dea</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">ling with who he </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">i</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">s and a cursory line or two about corruption and his hunger strike.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">I watched the video which gave a glimpse of his life and his determination. Mid way I found myself becoming smug and</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">quitting it to resume my studies.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">News, views and commotion ruled yesterday's morning for me. It seemed there was only one man the nation wanted to discuss and support. That was when I felt I needed to devote myself to the </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">study of the </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">cause.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Having been informed that the </span></span><span class="s5" style="font-style: italic; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Grand Old Man</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> wanted to introduce a Draft Bill in the Parliament which would be contemplated upon by the citizenry and the Govt. Officials in equal ratio; I felt it legitimate for someone to Demand the same; and up went a status message </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">from my corner of the world about how it was constitutional for </span></span><span class="s5" style="font-style: italic; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Dear Anna</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> to be clear</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">about</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> his rights even though some clauses (as contested by the Govt.)</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> in his draft</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> are unconstitutional.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Once again, the evening came and in walked my landlady with a pamphlet, a poster and a batc</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">h, one saying, "I support Anna" and </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">the other saying</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">, "We want money back from the Swiss Bank Accounts."</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">It was the pamphlet handed over to me which propelled me to contemplate whether I really supported the demands of the </span></span><span class="s5" style="font-style: italic; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Man</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">who was pushing India to re-unite after the much hyped about World Cup of 2011.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Among the varied clauses which my eye pondered upon, I found three eye catching demands, which seemed quite absurd to me:</span></span></p><div class="s7" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; margin-left: 36px; text-align: justify; "><div class="s6" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; position: absolute; text-indent: -18px; font-size: 12px; ">1.</div><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">The LokPal </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Committee</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> will be allowed to take action suomoto</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">;</span></span></div><div class="s7" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; margin-left: 36px; text-align: justify; "><div class="s6" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; position: absolute; text-indent: -18px; font-size: 12px; ">2.</div><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">The CBI would work in conjugation with the Committee and both of them would act as an investigative agency for the cases which come before the Committee</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">; The Committee would have police powers.</span></span></div><div class="s7" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; margin-left: 36px; text-align: justify; "><div class="s6" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; position: absolute; text-indent: -18px; font-size: 12px; ">3.</div><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">The Committee </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">along with</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> its Chairman would act as a judge and be free to decide the cases which come before it.</span></span></div><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">As a student of Law</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">, I have had the opportunity to not only know what our Constitution gives to us but </span></span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic; font-size: 14px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">why</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> it gives me the rights in a manner which is guaranteed by it. For instance, one of the fundamentals of our Constitution is that the basic structure of Our Government would be such that "</span></span><span class="s5" style="font-style: italic; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">We give to ourselves</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">" a Government where there is a </span></span><span class="s5" style="font-style: italic; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">clear distribution of power</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">. The three organs of the entire system</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> are so distinctly situate that the Legislature, Executive and the Judiciary have an independent standing and are not influenced by each other.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">To take it a step further, the police and the CBI are independent bodies who carry out investigations </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">with a liberate authority.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Not that I do not agree that India's political scene is grim, not that I </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">say that corruption is not the order </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">of the day, but there is a different perspective that I like to stick up to when it comes to the LOKPAL Bill. Here are a few thoughts which I shared with my friends, colleagues</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> and facebook acquaintances.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Friend:</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> "Don't you think that the Government needs to say yes to LOKPAL, the powers and the duties can be chalked out later?"</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">I: "</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Certain aspects of the Draft will have an impact on the state machinery. Making the existent structure a parallel to what is proposed.</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> To throw the constitution out of the window is not logical; If what Anna is proposing is from a</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Bird's eye view</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">-</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">correct but needs amendment </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">(on a closer look) then even thought I appreciate his willingness to take a stand, I essentially </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">don't</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> think his view point is agreeable.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">To bring about anti-corruption measures with the kind of support he is enjoying, I think that he could have entered the process in a fair and square manner rather than whining over it and calling it Gandhigiri</span></span><span class="s9" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">. </span></span><span class="s9" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">After all</span></span><span class="s9" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">, it</span></span><span class="s9" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> is not the Brits </span></span><span class="s9" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">whom</span></span><span class="s9" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">we are fighting against. </span></span><span class="s9" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">This is something which we have bestowed upon ourselves; a democracy</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">.</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">"</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Friend: </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">"But then, is it that easy to enter </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">politics,</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> especially if everyone around you is driven by corruption?"</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">I: "I agree that it </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">isn't</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> easy at all to enter politics in the first place-be it </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">for the </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">corrupt or </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">the</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> not-so-corrupt. But if what you say is correct and all the people who are a part of the current system are </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">(</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">all</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">)</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> corrupt then it seems that </span></span><span class="s5" style="font-style: italic; font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">the corrupt are more driven</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> than the people who demand anti-corruption.</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">At least</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> the corrupt are doing something to help themselves in helping their own case of making money."</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Acquaintance: "Don't you see it? We have given to ourselves a system which is easily ridiculed at the hands of the merciless and which is driving our economy and our nation towards doom. Isn't it high time?"</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">I: "The basic crux of the problem is whether there is a problem with the way the system is </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">modeled</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> or the way in which we allow it to be </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">worked upon. If distribution of powers could not check corruption then would the </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">handing</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> over of all the powers to one single body be an answer to the </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">problems of the nation? Are the supporters hinting that we should move from democracy to autocracy which on the outset is yelling about anti-corruption</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">?</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> Do we need a </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Nazi</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> way of r</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">ule which is different from the </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Nazi</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> way of rule only by way of it yelling from rooftops about claiming to be a people's king?"</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Colleague</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">1</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">: "Why is it wrong to support the introduction of a Draft which will be </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">deliberated</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> upon before becoming law?</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">I: "</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">For a thing to be supported, one should start from the grass roots. The problem with the likes of you is that you would choose a</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> political party first and </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">expect to see </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">its</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> show of party principals</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> once the party is ruling the roost.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">For me, I would rather evaluate what the party commands and then decide whether it is liable to be accepted by me. Only once that is done</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">,</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> would </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">I </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">go about supporting them."</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Colleague2: "I </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">don't</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> even understand the fresco behind the whole debate. I'm least bothered, in the end </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">it's</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> all the same."</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">I: "Most of the people who are supporting the cause are devoted to your way of thinking</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> most of the time. Interestingly</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">,</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> they are irritated with the current scenario but when it comes to taking action they are so smug with their daily life </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">that their priority shifts to better things in life such as whether they have enough milk in their refrigerator. </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Out</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> of all these people who are in active support of anti-corruption</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">, how many have done</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> at least</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "></span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">3</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> of the things listed below?</span></span></p><div class="s7" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; margin-left: 36px; text-align: justify; "><div class="s6" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; position: absolute; text-indent: -18px; font-size: 12px; ">1.</div><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Cast</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> their vote</span></span></div><div class="s7" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; margin-left: 36px; text-align: justify; "><div class="s6" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; position: absolute; text-indent: -18px; font-size: 12px; ">2.</div><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Stood up for/ been on hunger strike/ </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">or actively supported the NO VOTE OPTION</span></span></div><div class="s7" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; margin-left: 36px; text-align: justify; "><div class="s6" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; position: absolute; text-indent: -18px; font-size: 12px; ">3.</div><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Taken part/attended/ actively understood what is said in the political rallies of different parties</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> and raised a query when the party did not live up to its promises</span></span></div><div class="s7" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; margin-left: 36px; text-align: justify; "><div class="s6" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; position: absolute; text-indent: -18px; font-size: 12px; ">4.</div><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Filed an RTI application </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">(not to forget that the RTI is their beloved </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Anna's</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> gift to the nation)</span></span></div><div class="s7" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; margin-left: 36px; text-align: justify; "><div class="s6" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; position: absolute; text-indent: -18px; font-size: 12px; ">5.</div><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">Lodged a complaint against injustice at any level</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">"</span></span></div><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">From my understanding of the entire scenario, I do not see the need to change the workings of a </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">government;</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> I need to see a change in the way the people take action. I want them to lodge a complaint and raise their voice at every small instanc</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">e of injustice and not take out candle vigils/ processions/ protests/hunger fasts </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">only once </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">the situation has </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">already </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">been blown out of proportion.</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "></span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height: 2.4; text-align: justify; "><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">In the past 40 years or so ever since the first lokpal bill </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">was</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">introduced</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">,</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> two generations have spent their youth and middle age on the soil of India, but have failed to</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> not only</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; "> </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">decrease the levels of corruption but to keep it in </span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">check</span></span><span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; "><span class="bumpedFont15" style="font-size: 1.5em; ">; what does that have to say about the kind of smugness that we enjoy in our daily lives?</span></span></p></span>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-30834520498595046442009-03-08T16:24:00.006+05:302009-03-09T13:08:32.969+05:30LossThere is no greater loss than the loss of a parent. That is one quarter of life from which we know we will never be disappointed; that love will be showered unconditionally.<br /><br />It seems impossible to cope with such loss and this is exactly the reason why we stop listening to the advise of people as soon as they start saying, "Everything is going to be ok!" These words appear true only when your parents say so; for it is only they who can possibly mend the pigeonholes of our anxities.<br /><br />I would be wrong if I say that the words of wisdom which our near ones impart are false-they are true in their own way. Things do eventually seem to be O.K not because the gap is mended or fulfilled but because where life is a tormentor, time is a great healer and we are but petty fools. On finding ourselves in siuations which we cannot escape, we as humans, tend to seek relief. Most often, the best way is by cherishing the memory of those we have lost by adhering to what they had taught us all their lifes and also by loving and caring for those whom they loved and cared for. So, in a way things do get better, or atleast it they become less cruel.<br /><br />I can only imagine the loss of a parent, and it is a nerve recking feeling. But, if I come to such a situation in life, then I think my primary concern would be myself. Yes, it feels odd to admit it, but as shocking as it sounds, it is really the truth. Every human (or probably its just me) is made in such a manner that nothing upsets us more than shortcomings in our own life. No matter how much we cry for others, we really weep for our "own" loss. We hate being in a situation where we lose a person who would/could love us unconditionally. And so begins a thought process whereby we force ourselves (sub-consciously) into fact situations in which we would miss the presence of our parent.<br /><br />I think it would help, if we try to rise above ourselves (which is pretty hard) to acknowledge the fact that life is life; that it is hard. Death is an aspect which no one can escape and it gives peace (as little as it may seem) if we start to focus our attention towards the fact that death could have been more cruel. Of course, death is always sudden, and its a silly question when someone asks, "was it sudden?" for who would expect death of a close one even when it was foreseeable? It seems that it should give us some relief to acknowledge that people die worse deaths, and that in passing away our loved one did not have to suffer at the death bed.<br /><br />These are things which I feel from an outsider's point of view, the fact being that I have had close encounters only in having to cope with the death of close relatives and probably that is the very reason I am able to think and write about it in such a manner....seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-7069375564465464242008-10-06T23:21:00.000+05:302008-10-06T23:23:01.866+05:30Substituted Emotions<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;" lang="EN-GB">It happens at least once in everyone’s life; and I am sure it does. Each one of us is posed with a question which we do not want to find. Life does not offer solutions, only questions come naturally. What we may term as answers are in reality, only a way of ending our wait and the contemplation attached with it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;" lang="EN-GB">This is the bare truth.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;" lang="EN-GB">And so I find myself lurking in doldrums about the sanctity of relationships and their essence. Most of us wait a lifetime in search of true love, to a lucky few-it just happens. In any which way, loss is the “grund norm” of love. What is important here and is the main question that disturbs me right now is how do we cope with such loss? Is it true that even if people are made to substitute those who have left, that emotions can substitute the loss of love? And love does get substituted; new liaisons destroy the sanctity of old ones.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;" lang="EN-GB">Admittedly, in our society today, my parents are more open to the fact that people need to remarry or find someone new so that they may live happily ever after. That is how it is. Their generation seems more tolerant of it. Probably it is a grown up thing. Practically speaking it does make sense. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;" lang="EN-GB">Yes it does.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;" lang="EN-GB">But then again, have we travelled so ahead of our time, that we substitute relationships just like we do for things? Where do we go from here and how far? Is love too far or are we way ahead of it?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-51780862217703703102008-07-31T21:21:00.000+05:302008-07-31T21:50:08.225+05:30The wound<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB">Once the tears had accumulated to form a wet patch on his pyjama, he could begin to see towards the direction from where it was all emanating. It was hard to accept; and even to acknowledge it required immense courage so that one could raise oneself from emotions to reality.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB">The journey had been a challenging task which had taken up a lot of time, consideration as well as emotional trauma. The foremost thought to have struck his mind was one of promiscuity of the bond shared between humans. For it could only be that, and it alone could lead someone, anyone, to do as hideous an act as this.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB">Raising that piece of wood required tremendous effort; under which even his muscular body had to yield. The toil of what was going on in his head was making every inch of his flesh and soul difficult to bear-existence had been demanding its lieu from life. That moment demanded grief too, but from where he stood it was still eons away. In order to summon it, meant that the vicinity of his very existence had to be dealt with. That task was unfathomable, for he was lost in the wails and cries of a hard core society. How could they be what they were pretending to be, how could the pretence forgive their dark lonely nights and leave them unquestioned?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB">The desire to shout had been overwhelming, a loud scream, and uproar would wish it all away; drive away the maniacs who were challenging him towards action. <span style=""> </span>Action was a sublime version, a sweet word-too subtle an expression to be used.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB">The priest’s hand had touched his elbow to produce a wave of unfettered electricity which flowed through every nerve of his body resulting into small bumps on every inch of his skin. It had been told to him that this was “karma”-his duty, “dharma” and “moksha”. <span style=""> </span>What about sin? Every neuron of his brain was pulling his head apart with this single question. What about sin? Sin, sin, sin....”paap”. The need for an answer was overpowering, he looked around, the log of wood in his hand, the weight of it on his mind. A crowd of faces known, unknown as well as those who qualified to be called ‘his own’ looked back. The centre of their attention was that one man who was standing next to where the pyre would be burning. How could he waste such auspicious time? Their eyes seemed to question him menacingly. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB">At last the baton of wood was raised, the skull had been cracked. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB">The unholy stood there contemplating the holy act.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB">Sitting now, in his room with the spoils of life, love and tears shed he realized that the act had been a means to moksha, not as much for his father as for himself. The means had indeed shown upon him the wisdom that the way evolved by mankind was one of redemption from contemplating, it was a way to redeem him of attachment, to free him from fantasy; to set him free in the world of reality where he would forever know that his father had been consumed in body by that holy pyre where his head had been cracked by his devoted son.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-79474348290250806602008-07-26T01:15:00.004+05:302008-07-26T01:43:51.287+05:30A conversation<div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>u know puma, at one point i really thought i figured you out</div> <div class="msg Nth">and then you put up this bitchy scoundrel who wouldn't mind mouthing fuck alls without reason,</div> <div class="msg Nth">this made me go numb and still, even now am putting as non insultingly as i can</div> <div class="msg Nth">cuz i fear your mindless aggression<br /></div> <div class="msg Nth">i simply dont understand why i was , (more than one made the poor victim of your lambasting</div> </div> <div class="system1st"><span style="color: rgb(127, 127, 127);">Sent at 12:34 AM on Saturday</span></div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>ok cool it. I DIDN'T MEAN IT. and thats the way i am. i get mad at people cause i can without meaning it or without meaning to hurt them. thinking that they will take me for a bitch without getting hurt. I AM SORRY</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>civilized people, specially like you who are supposedly into such a noble profession tend to use their diction to mudsling friends</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>hunh?</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>but not to such horrendous proportions</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>i hope we are solved and lets make a truce i don want to start a new fight</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>well</div> <div class="msg Nth">i dont want to start wither</div> <div class="msg Nth">*either</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>good</div> <div class="msg Nth">but I'm sorry</div> <div class="msg Nth">seriously</div> <div class="msg Nth">i was messed up badly</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>but like the bloke i am , i have this rather irritating habit of poking my nose everywhere, and anywhere i think my friends need my advise/help</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>yes they do</div> <div class="msg Nth">and thats not a bad habit</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>and i do think, Puma i should know why</div> <div class="msg Nth">why did it all happen</div> <div class="msg Nth">what was on your mind then?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>nothing just crap</div> <div class="msg Nth">i was mad at everyone</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>frustrated ?</div> <div class="msg Nth">academic pressure?</div> <div class="msg Nth">breakup?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>no mad. like i was going crazy. like i still am. but with this internship i hardly get any time so i'm sober and also alone so thats keeping me cool</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>hee</div> <div class="msg Nth">heheee</div> <div class="msg Nth">interesting<br /></div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>living through it isn't as interesting as it sounds</div> <div class="msg Nth">and don u hehehe. im serious</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>living through what?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg Nth"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>my craziness<br /></div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>their must be some specific reason.</div> <div class="msg Nth">for your craziness<br /></div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>not really</div> <div class="msg Nth">u can say life</div> <div class="msg Nth">period</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>well, i guess i got one antidote</div> <div class="msg Nth">here's how it works</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>?</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>for the craziness thing<br /></div> <div class="msg Nth">u go, start your laptop/pc/dvd player and watch your fav movie</div> <div class="msg Nth">it helps</div> <div class="msg Nth">suchi</div> <div class="msg Nth">tried and tested</div> <div class="msg Nth">personally</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>i tried</div> <div class="msg Nth">it works rarely</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>Anu, i seriously hope you didnt get into some kinda dope during your "crazy" time</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>i was about to</div> <div class="msg Nth">but my doping buddies refused to share it with me</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>wow</div> <div class="msg Nth">close</div> <div class="msg Nth">good</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>so i get high on drinks</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>you talked about it to your parents ?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>and my parents found out</div> <div class="msg Nth">recently</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>about the craziness or about your dope buddies?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>about my drinking habit</div> <div class="msg Nth">and about my craziness<br /></div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>hmm</div> <div class="msg Nth">hmm</div> <div class="msg Nth">hope it wasn't unpleasant</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>well them finding out bout my drinking habit wasn't as unpleasant as my acts of crazyness</div> <div class="msg Nth">recently they removed all latches of my room</div> <div class="msg Nth">room's door and all</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>oops</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>lol</div> <div class="msg Nth">yeah but since the past three weeks i've been in del</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>so it seems they were understanding<br /></div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>and now ill go straight to hostel</div> <div class="msg Nth">so it ll be ok i guess</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>hmm</div> <div class="msg Nth">anyhow</div> <div class="msg Nth">Puma, tell me , whats your dope ?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>love</div> <div class="msg Nth">nothing can beat it</div> </div> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div></div><br /><br /><div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>well Anu love is surely the biggest dope, for it works like an elixir for some , and a catastrophe for some</div> <div class="msg Nth">Tolstoy said</div> <div class="msg 1st">" the magic of first love is our foolishness in believing that it can never end "<div class="icon"> </div><div class="icon"> </div></div> </div> <div class="chat out"> </div><div class="chat out"> Anupama:but then again nothing lasts forevetr </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>yp</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>except for sadness</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>hmm</div> <div class="msg Nth">thats precisely the point</div> <div class="msg Nth">anyhow</div> <div class="msg Nth">moving on</div> <div class="msg Nth">i asked ,</div> <div class="msg Nth">whats your poison?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>as in/.</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>ur fav wine/beer/ alcohol</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>i don even care about the name, once im having it, im done only when i forget which one i had had</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>thats pretty bad way of consuming liquor<br /></div> <div class="msg Nth">but then to each his own</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>lol, i know</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>u seem like such a wreak</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>i am . seriously</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>but then Anu have you ever felt like taking professional help?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>yes</div> <div class="msg Nth">but ive given up on it now</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>r u ?</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>no i never consulted anyone, but i don think anyone can help me</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>u r being foolish</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>im serious</div> <div class="msg Nth">life is a screw up-you cannot figure it out. its a dillusion so no one can help anyone out<br /></div> <div id="content"><div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>sweety thats what happens when you stop believeing in the concept of god, and think listening to Rock is giving instant Nirvana</div> <div class="msg Nth">ANu , dont crapp all over your life</div> <div class="msg Nth">you have been a wonderfull person all this while</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>how do u know im an aetheist? and i don listen to rock all that much. i prefer blues now</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>why giving it alll up?</div> <div class="msg Nth">huh</div> <div class="msg Nth">what i mean is</div> <div class="msg Nth">you dont wanna help yourself</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>no one wins in life. everyone is a loser in the end</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>when you know your life is in a rut</div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">Anupama: </span>its not</div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg 1st"> <div class="icon"> </div><span class="salutation">knocking: </span>yaieks</div> <div class="msg Nth">thats a shipwreak speaking</div> <div class="msg Nth">but then its your life</div> <div class="msg Nth"><br /></div> <div class="chat in"> </div> </div> </div></div>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-57564361202580865712008-07-17T16:10:00.003+05:302008-07-17T16:16:14.794+05:30Internship Diaries-2<a href="http://www.justice.gov.gu/images/gavel.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.justice.gov.gu/images/gavel.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>A man prays, pendant in hand, eyes shut.... The mighty court's in play</div><br /><div>Another cries, red handkercheif in hand, no ground to stand....staring at backs in dismay</div><br /><div>A lady sits-a lawyer in tow, no better seat than books kept in a row...</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And so the saga goes of friends and foes</div><br /><div>who travelled aboard on a visit to the Supreme Court...</div>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-74382247923760749062008-07-15T03:43:00.003+05:302008-07-15T03:58:01.081+05:30Internship Diaries-1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.indiadaily.org/images/justice11-supreme-court_26.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.indiadaily.org/images/justice11-supreme-court_26.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />NOT EATING.<br /><br /><br /><br /> DEFINITELY NOT SLEEPING.seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-11308388780812430822008-07-10T20:13:00.000+05:302008-07-10T20:14:53.350+05:30InterludeA bird could be heard chirping excitedly, perched on a branch in the courtyard.<br />The water was gushing out of the tap to an overflowing bucket. The pot of tea was whistling incessantly. Shama rushed to open the shutter to an irritated milkman.<br />The newspaper was lying behind the open door. She picked it up to get back to her work.<br />Her eyes were burning, each part of the body was seeking comfort, one soft cushion, a quilt to swathe her, or just five minutes of peace where she could cease to exist. It had been three days of sleepless writing. Although it had provided much turmoil for her grey matter thinking, enough to pen down the best of her frustrated thoughts, but it had also created a rift in her body and her will.<br />The story was still incomplete yearning for an end, much in the same way as her. Shama got up suddenly, rushing towards the pot. Thankfully she had had only a hall for a home; demarcation with walls would be too cumbersome, too time consuming.<br /> From the kitchen window she looked outside. At a distance kids were rushing towards a waiting school bus, waiving fervently towards their concerned mothers.<br /> Her schooling had been a tragedy. She had not wished to leave home although that had been one place which she had most detested. Probably then, her whole life had to be like this, where she happened to loathe potential recluse and imbibe herself in the seeming comforts of an ill-fated life.<br />As she sat in front of the screen once again, she wondered why she was doing this to herself.<br /> After all had she not been fired from her job in wake of lack of interest as well as efforts that were meager owing to the present turmoil? Her life was being consumed in something of a black-hole of empty spaces and vacuum.<br />She had wanted to be on her own, to shove the world around. People had been a menace; she could not bear the torture of introspection of her world, her life, her acts, her words, her attitude or her presence. The axiom of man being a social animal had been true in her case too, but the concept was just too utopian. There were times when she would be harsher on herself, much more than what the society could ever be.<br />It had been this speculating analysis of others versus her when it came to seeking shelter which left her more bemused. She had been living on the edges of tragedy ever since she could remember. As a result her life was a constant struggle with intermittent seconds of joy which had been forced by her mind as a defense system to her anxieties. She wished for a dead mind. Then, she would not have to contemplate on anything, her blessings, the everlasting gloom nor life itself.<br />Shama poured out her cries in her writings. Those were her only attempts at seeking comfort. But most of what she wrote was never advanced for the public and the little which she did allow to be delivered out of the domain of her own reach was highly complicated and confusing.<br />Taking a sip from the glass, she wondered whether access tea could ever kill someone. She laughed mockingly. Perhaps destiny would have a strange way of introducing her to readers, making her name appear in headlines across national newspapers with the following caption adduced to a naked body lying on the floor,<br />“Naked girl found dead owing to tea overdose.”<br />She even figured out what the news item would read.<br />“Yesterday the body of a girl was found lying naked in her home. She was a resident of a rather peculiar showroom which had apparently been bequeathed to her by the deceased father. While neighbors are certain of the case being one of suicide, police is still investigating into the causes. Talking to one of the high officials who are in charge of the case, our correspondent found out that they are not over-ruling murder or even rape. Most of those who live in the society have divulged that she might have been a lunatic. It is said that she never appeared in public except for the monthly round that she made to the shops nearby in order to buy huge bags of tea. Once or twice she was also seen at the grocers buying vegetable that would not last more than a week. These estranged visits to the grocery were witnessed every six months. Some even speculate that she might have had a job sometime ago. Even at those times, the girl who was in her twenties dressed more than what was required, covering herself from head to toe. This revelation seems rather interesting and peculiar to the way in which her naked body was found.”<br />Shama would not let her thoughts go astray.<br />It was true that she had preferred staying in the showroom. Many people told her that it had been an unusual residence, but to her it was the most comfortable surrounding for her tired self. Unlike home, where she had grown up, this place did not witness the noise from apartments nearby. Nobody shouted in the middle of the night, there was no cheer too-on time when she was desolate. People did not knock on her door intruding in her life; ominous windows were absent too.<br />Shama maintained a small wardrobe. There had been two over-coats one black and the other purple. A pair of pants (grey and black striped) was present along with a couple of shirts and three baggy over-sized t-shirts which had been torn from the base in order to be of the appropriate length. She never wore any of these pieces of clothing at home. She neither wished nor felt the need for them. They had been her magic robes, things to be used when facing the outer-world.<br />Her mother had used the place as a beauty parlor when she had been a child. As such the corner cubicle that had been specially built at the time now served its purpose as a bathroom. Tara, Shama’s mother had lost her life to cancer when Shama had been only eight years old. While she could not completely remember how she looked like, she still got glimpses of her sometimes. She remembered her mother being content with whatever little she had had at that time, devising methods to add to the family’s meager income but always appearing welcomingly warm. She had been the perfect dash of sunlight in everyone’s life. Michael, Shama’s father, was not able to cope with the loss of the only support in his life. He looked after Shama for another eight years, making sure that she could sustain when he was gone. One evening, while she was coming back from her evening classes at the college, fairly happy about the piece that she had written she saw her father walking across the road. Shama called out excitedly and began at once to move in his direction, traversing the busy road. Michael, concerned over the safety of his child attempted to move in his direction, shouting at her to stop, that he would cross the road to reach her. Intoxicated about the flights of her fantasy which she had successfully penned down that evening, she rejected everything other than the man who was moving in her direction. Soon she realized that he was paving his way from the footpath to the road and in order to outdo him, she rushed more enthusiastically. A speeding car which was approaching her steered in the opposite direction, preventing an imminent collision. Instead it struck a van which was heading in its way.<br />In a few seconds time ceased to exist. The turmoil on the road came to a halt. A child was wailing in a distance. People were rushing in from all directions. Shama forgot to breathe; her body felt numb. The flutter of birds flew away to some distant place. She looked ahead unable to grasp the intensity of events. Soon people were blocking her view. It was then that her senses surfaced and she found the will to order her limbs into action. Pulling at the crowd, she made her way forward. It seemed to be a jungle of not only people but of voices, reactions and questions. It had been too noisy and suffocating; yet she wished never to emerge in the centre. She simply didn’t wish for answers or reality.<br />Michael’s body lay on the floor. It seemed to be of a stranger; covered in a pool of red liquid it appeared to be a huge mass of highly dismantled limbs.<br />Taking off her gown, Shama sipped away the tea which was left in her glass. She attempted to write more. However her will to continue ceased to allow ventilation for her dead mind.<br />Suresh was talking with the doctor when a nurse entered the room with the reports. Dr. Kamal explained that Shama’s condition was similar to her mothers. Both of them were suffering from multiple personality disorder. Since Mahima’s syndromes had been discovered too late she could not be saved once she realized how desolate her situation was.<br />Even though it had been the same centre where Mahima had committed suicide, Suresh was sure about Dr. Kamal’s excellence. What had happened with Shama’s mother had been a mishap.<br />The doctor explained that Shama’s condition was peculiar since her alternate personality was being carved out from her reality somewhere down the line. With the passage of time, she had accepted the hospital room as her home. At times she would imagine looking out of the window which was otherwise completely covered by black paper on her request; at other times, she would neglect it as a part of the wall of her showroom. On hearing birds chirp outside she would often imagine them as being from her own courtyard, neglecting the fact that there could have been no courtyard in a lane of showrooms. A small kitchenette had been made in one corner of the room when the doctor assured everyone that Shama would not hurt herself till the time she was confronted with her own truth.<br />Shama did remember the sad farewell from her father. The only exception was that she remembered the nurses and the staff as people on the road, who had been present as a block between her father and herself. That was the day when Michael died for her.<br />Apparently she thought herself to be out on grocery shopping when once in six months, she was allowed to venture out to the vendor who had been present in the compound of the hospital. She did not allow herself to be out for long, in fact she was very quick in her transactions since she did not like the way nurses and patients looked in her direction.<br />Suresh who was a very successful business, tried to steal away time from Shama’s own world. As soon as he got to know that Shama was writing regularly in her room, he had found a sudden urge to read all that she wrote. At times Shama came to deliver her piece of work to the doctor’s cabin, acting as hastily as she had done while buying the vegetables. On realizing that it was doing her no good, the doctor decided that her job should be terminated, that she should be left alone. Suresh too realized that he was intruding in her privacy by mischievously reading all that she had to offer.<br />Wiping the tear mid-cheek Suresh thanked the doctor and left the cabin only to return as the milkman who had appeared meticulously on Shama’s doorstep every morning.seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-37519576516602383692008-04-11T14:52:00.001+05:302008-04-11T14:54:53.350+05:30esta tarde, this afternoonWatching the kids play at the swings in the park that afternoon, she became conscious about all that she had missed upon. Growing up had been a hurried business and she had taken her time in rushing through childhood. Feeling stupid about how enticing the notion of being grown up sounded, she wondered why people talked about it as a perfect state of being, something to be achieved.<br />She had often thought about things like these only in public places, the danger of them overpowering her senses in the surroundings where the vicinity comprised of her alone, was too big a risk to be taken. Many a times she had abandoned herself mid-way, trying to get lost through the happenings of her life. But with age had come the knowledge that life would not cover what eye-lids could hide.<br />Her view about the world had been altered at different stages of life but the notion had stuck all through. The only change was the reason that she adjudicated for the ways of the world, the end was always her contempt for it.<br />There were moments in time when she felt that life was beautiful. She did not however, linger on the topic. She recognized it only to the point of feeling it. She never tried to stay with the thought. Grandmothers, on sunny Sunday afternoons had put forth a thought,<br />“Things talked about lose their beauty in each word uttered, each syllable spoken, emotions flowing out with words. “<br />And so at instances when she did feel positive without dwelling on the positivistic way of thinking, she just kept it close to herself, ignoring it beyond the flash of its discovery.<br />That afternoon, the sun had been particularly friendly- shining its glory on people who would otherwise be swept in the cool sensation of the winters, imbibing the cold with such sincerity as was hard to emulate. The grass seemed more fresh than green. The clouds had given way to the chirping birds which had migrated away from home, much in the same way as her. They had found this place as a recluse only to fly away to another place which seemed better still.<br />Shabnam!<br />Someone from a distance called in her direction. Swiftly shifting her stance she looked searchingly for any trace of familiarity.<br />To her disappointment a young Indian girl passed by with a child holding her hand. Trying to attempt a smile was difficult; it had been centuries since she last puckered her lips for anything other than condemnation.<br />There weren’t enough reasons to make her smile anyhow, not even few, not even any.<br />She remembered the day that she had arrived in the city. It seemed to have been the perfect recluse, the place away from home- a land of opportunities and unparalleled freedom. To top it all she would have a high-scale job to match her undiluted interest in the work with which she was involved. Being appointed as an artist with one of the most exclusive galleries in the world, it had been her dream-come-true. Being called to be a member of highly acknowledged and reputed artist’s brigade, she had not only proved herself but to herself too. She had always had inhibitions about what people acknowledged of her abilities, she had always accepted criticism with much more warmth.<br />It was like all other things in her life-both welcoming and pleasurable, initially. That’s where it ceased to exist, nothing beyond the word ‘initially’. It was at that point when she wanted to rush back to the comfort that could only be attached with one place on earth, her home. She knew that that had been an abstract perception way before she even thought about an attempt at preparing to pack.<br />She stayed where she was, accepting all that came her way. Most of it was absolute criticism, which had been her domain, which had been the place where she most felt at home.<br />Thereafter she had never toiled with anything other than work, which felt like a pleasure only to the extent of being the reason that kept her from herself. And it had been reason enough.<br />In the first few years she let doubt interrupt her estimates about life, she let life prove it to be something better. Gradually she derived happiness from the fact that her estimates had begun to take shape of theories, which were being proved at one time or another. Finally there was so much conviction in her theories that she constantly searched for ways to prove them faulty, even malicious. It was as if she had become obsessed with loopholes. Each conversation every idea, all interactions had revolved around her fixation.<br />Her work no longer reflected a new concept; art was repetitive, no more art, just an embodiment of her spirit. Those who had stuck around her found her menacing, insulting or insinuating. People would always have better business to look after. Wasn’t everyone looking for an escape? Why would they indulge themselves in whiling away free time in getting laid by the burdens of thoughts from which they too had sought shelter?<br />Now, when she had grown old enough to understand only this-that there was no escape, that life was but a yearning for better, a reclusion from it and a search for newer concepts, which after all evolved from the same mind that hunted it, she tried to escape again.<br />Except that now, she was escaping, flying with the birds, figment by figment, thought by thought breath by breath; soul from body, life from mind. She smiled, realizing that the means to the escape had not failed her. She had been an achiever, at last.seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-76856508913463039632008-03-04T14:22:00.002+05:302008-03-04T14:29:15.381+05:30What were they thinking?"Soul of India. Women of the world" ?<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHo_0y3F-cg2S3Gvkour4yf4iaJAKuu6FzONGhvhjiZbPlCAhj3WMpzmecLSUgIf5BKSzOVs9G1aN6h_2vhefNwjUa48DBbnfPXHx80Eozn9NgFFRJ4DuKFf4Prk6EKMf56cuuhEtlbOzy/s1600-h/28022008(003).jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHo_0y3F-cg2S3Gvkour4yf4iaJAKuu6FzONGhvhjiZbPlCAhj3WMpzmecLSUgIf5BKSzOVs9G1aN6h_2vhefNwjUa48DBbnfPXHx80Eozn9NgFFRJ4DuKFf4Prk6EKMf56cuuhEtlbOzy/s320/28022008(003).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173807139594250098" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br />Either I'm creatively challenged or Indians have developed a good digestive system to bolt any form of trash!seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-11559842197205653402008-03-04T00:29:00.001+05:302008-03-04T00:34:03.260+05:30Hallucinations<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">There was a flutter in her heart. She knew what she was thinking about. Nothing else could have brought the same depth of emotion. She wished she could reminisce without being haunted; she wished for life to be the servant, not the served.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Laila yearned for escape. Not as much from her surroundings as much from herself. She wondered whether she would always be a prisoner of her past, guarded by her mind- the cell keeper. Despite the eight months that separated her past from the present, she had not learnt to befriend the night. Each hour that she had spent facing the dark reality of life, she had contemplated the imprisonment of her being- her body as also of her soul.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Tonight she could feel her anxiety surging towards higher skies- the aboard of unfriendly angels. She knew that what served as the catalyst was her knowledge about the direction in which her emotions were being consumed. She acknowledged the abyss towards which she was being shoved. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Embracing her legs within the protection of her arms, she cuddled into a petite bundle of lose fitting, shabby remnants of cloth. Everything was coming back, the good times and the bad. The only difference was that the bad times could not draw away her love for the good ones, they could not swathe her from the longing that had gripped every inch of her flesh, pinching every tatter of her injured soul.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Past was not the only thing that was returning to her tonight, it had brought with it, the accomplice whom she most dreaded- the ghosts from the future. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">In the two hundred and forty four days, she had just about managed to look up into the eyes of her past which was manifest in her being despite the distant feeling that was attached with it. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Life is more unforgiving than it is cruel.” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The words echoed in her mind as she gasped for breath. She felt a salty tear enter the tunnel that she wished would serve as an outlet for the wails that were bringing down the walls of her weakened heart. Opening her mouth in a vain attempt at rescuing herself she realized that she was incapable of even a slight whimper because her mind had already served as the tombstone of her sorrows.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">When flashes from an intangible future presented themselves, she gave up the slightest hope that might have dwelled in the receded caves of her mind. The cold floor was no longer the reason why she shuddered; she was in awe of everything that she was now a part of. Enraptured in the world of nightmares, she was merely a puppet. She knew that she was hallucinating about things that were not and might never be, but the intensity of emotions which her past had brought forth was much stronger than the will to escape. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Fighting was not an option, since the enemy was still lurking behind the recess of her own being, protected by the fragility of her emotions. Laila tried to make an attempt at getting up, of shaking herself out of the cataclysm that was emanating from her insides. As she supported her left hand on the wall she figured that she could only manage to sit on her folded legs. She tried to wipe her face in order to stop the sequence of events that were chewing away her sanity. What she found instead were her hands wet with tears and self-pity approaching to traumatize all that was left. In absence of any form of life, in want of a comforting feel, she threw her chest on her thighs and drew her arms as a resting plinth. A fresh pool of tears escaped her eyes and she found herself begging the infinite space where the existence of God was highly improbable. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As if to present a gift from one in whose existence she had no faith in, she found a blade lying next to her. Probably it too had been discarded on the street after being used, much in the same way like her. While extending her hand in its direction acknowledging the fate that tied them both she thought about what she might lose and that which she might not gain. Inadvertently the absence of loss was sufficient excuse as against the absence of gain. <o:p></o:p></span></p>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-21227625129777283212008-02-25T22:46:00.000+05:302008-02-25T22:55:24.129+05:30Sin“There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft.<br /><br />When you kill a man, you steal a life, You steal his wife’s right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone’s right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness.”<br /><br />These few lines seem to be the most sacrosanct and pure utterance; the most blissful thought to have ever hit the face of earth.<br /><br />But even as I use the word sacrosanct, I’m confused about its existence. What is sacrosanct? God? Humans? Or the faith that they show in the almighty?<br />The highest praise bestowed on humans is by emulating their existence with that of god.<br /><br />Who is god?<br />Most of us define him as a supernatural power which exists as a support; even as a guiding light. <br />If this is true, then it means that he is flawless. Devoid of any sin.<br /><br />There are millions in this world of billions who pay heed to him every second of their merciless life. Ones who pray to him endlessly, to bestow his glory on their respective lives, even if for just once. Are these prayers always answered? <br />If the answer to this question is always in the affirmative, then how do you explain the existence of atheists? Are they individuals who were born with disbelief, are they the ones who can only be born to atheists? <br />No.<br /><br />Then, what follows from this, is the fact that atheists too were believers who were let down not once, not twice, but time and over again. <br />If god is considered a parent who is trying to teach his children about varied aspects of life, then why does he compel his children to touch such extremes of disdain, humiliation and disappointment that they not only loose faith in self but in almighty too?<br />Do parents and teachers make a maniac of their wards while teaching them lessons of life; do they too, like god, force their children to drift away ?<br />The answer is in the negative.<br />Does this mean that humans are better teachers than god? Is god’s plan a defective one? Is he himself as human and as capable of sin- of letting people down, as humans are?<br /><br />The underlying fact is that atheists exist. <br /><br />If almighty is as kind and giving as he is supposed to be, then why does he force any of his subjects into submission to a phase where everything is dark, where they loose all trust in him.<br /><br />A tough situation as an excuse of a test is one thing, but when repeated time and over again, without momentary relief is another. And that’s exactly why individuals turn into atheists. They are forced into a situation which is no different than the latter case.<br /><br /><br /><br />Theists often use the excuse of “paying for sins” when it comes to unfairness in life situations. <br /><br />I ask:<br />“What of those who are born on the streets and die there?<br /> What wrong would you hold them guilty of, if they are compelled to rob in order to sustain life?<br /> Do all their sins overcome the sin of god for not answering their prayers?”<br /><br />The theists, smile and reply:<br />“it is their past sin, the sin of previous birth, that brings them to their present life.”<br /><br />Can I ask once more?<br />“people might be re-born, but with re-birth, does god recreate the same individual, with the same mind? A person with the same thought process? If not, then how do you explain misfortune to one of good deeds?” <br /><br /><br />The greatest sin is theft. <br />To each widow, god is the thief;<br />To each atheist, he is the liar;<br />And to each man on the street, he is the cheat.seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-44773987286082389292008-02-13T19:45:00.001+05:302008-02-28T13:38:15.415+05:30The Last Goodbye“Narcissism seems to be imbibing this day today. The world is almost the same, only the emotions those dwell within me are on the prowl. They are trying to form friendships with everything other than what is I; befriending those who have made them come to be. This pen is their weapon and I, their slave. It is baffling, probably even interesting-the way they seem to control me rather than me controlling those which are imbibed in me. My children, forcing me to produce them, to introduce them to the world. The initial apprehension seems lost; my over-bearing self hates the shape the soul has formed, the pregnant pouch which is difficult to carry as also to feed to a greater extent. Emotions need to be delivered. So far the world has pushed me, now I will push them; see what they bring from the world. Like every new born they too will howl, suppurate, wail and others will enjoy it, celebrate the success of their presence and their arrival. I will be the keen observer, the ambivalent mother.<br />You might ask what makes me come to be. Hopefully it is the birth of courage too, but I am afraid to admit that it is nothing more than my will to escape. It would make me happy to think that escapism is the biggest sort of courage, of strength to forsake all. I wouldn’t get into the nuances of details which might hold me guilty of vanity; I need to indulge in the means and not the ends.<br />You might not remember all the times that would relate me with you. I don’t think it is because you too have coddled in conceit but because there is much to be looked forward to, much to be lived for. As such, it is me who would have to keep it alive, the labor of our love. One of us would have to nurture it, to accept it, to look after it. I’m happy it is me, that you live in peace. There was a time when love was forsaken, a time when I abhorred it. Remember how I rushed away from all that brought you to me? My hurried farewells? Your confusion doesn’t leave me even today. I hope you understand it as my need at that time to rush away from the situation in which I find myself this day.<br />You continued to ask me for my hand, yearning for my presence. There was no time for you to understand my lack of willingness, I think that it was merely because you yourself had pulled out of the phase of resentment, and to counter mine would be to fight your own ghosts once again. Winning me over your conscience and mine was a triumph you had yearned for. You had your ways of talking yourself out of the coup that had formed your past. My past had been similar too. You enchanted me. I was unwilling, but captivated by you. You won once again, this time from me. We were together. It had served the end which was speculated; we found the comfort which none other could provide to each of us.<br />Life is beautiful. Our optimism soared to greater heights. We were the joyous pilots of our space shuttle. Divinity was on our side; our dreams were exactly the way reality was shaped. There were times, as I remember now, when either one would look back only to encounter the space that surrounded us. The empty, jagged, suffocating territory that would engulf us, which had enslaved our past. We could not turn back. It had been a mad, exciting, adrenalin rush in and about us, and it had been adduced as reasoning for continuance by the other. Those times which had detached you from me or I from you had served as only excuses for engulfing ourselves in each other’s embrace- the warm comfort of our tired core, the recluse of our irate minds, and the abode for our weak delusional being.<br />We had both wanted to be that which the other had never wished for; we had both been in love with what the other was. But the love for you and me was so immense that we were ready to leave ourselves behind and be the epitome of perfection for the sake of ourselves, to exceed the estimations of not others but us. I gave you as much space as would leave you with fresh air, all it did however, was to leave you lonely and alone. You on your part tried giving up those, which were your only recluse.<br />Our sacrifices seem to be our faults, the mistakes which we made.<br />It seems as if, not only did we exceed each other’s expectations, but we surpassed them to come to a position in time where our actions could no longer provide a rationale to our intentions. We had left not only that part of ourselves behind which would be an annoyance but also that which presented as our conviction. At a time when we were unable to understand that part of us which we had grown up with, we were also unable to breathe the air that was present in the vacuum. You will blame me, while reading these last few lines, of acknowledging the phase as a vacuum. But it is not the vacuum of absence of love. Love had been eternal, omnipotent. The air gap was our absence. We were both absent. There had been no one to explain that we both had been missing not because we did not love each other, rather, because we loved each other a bit too much. And in the process we had eliminated ourselves in our endeavor to cut out all that which might have annoyed another.<br />Our relief was in the peace which we could impart, thinking that the end would serve its purpose, that it would yield calm, if not for us than at least for the other. Our separation seemed as the only means. You asked for it; I could not refuse.<br />Then began a period in life where I cursed myself, for believing that I had found love. I had been confused and sad. It was not difficult for me to accept that which had happened. It was a kind of triumph of my undying faith in my belief about the despondent state of my life.<br />I enclosed myself in me, rushing away from all things which would relate to us. I never inculcated the idea that your decision might be the result of your own confusion. For me it had been an end which was bound to everything with which I had formed an attachment to. I remember how you attempted to say something. I still cannot be sure about what it was. At that time I did not know that you were on the other end of the phone call. Lost in my gloom, I never received it, only to realize much later that it had been you.<br />The excitement had intoxicated me when I found out about your call. Apparently it had been too late. You had moved on to a make belief world. I on the other hand, had found the determination to have you next to me. I would like to believe that you contributed in the attempt too. It was unfortunate that we both had not found the same level of conviction in ourselves or the other as had bound us once. Consequently our steps in the same direction were also ambiguous. Words were contemplated to represent the things which they never proposed. The distances which we covered only lead us to a place farther from where we had started walking again.<br />I do not purport to know all secrets of life. However, I attribute myself with knowing a few things about my own life. This knowledge is something which might be a hesitation. I want you to know that I find myself incapable of dithering too. Your loss has been the biggest loss. Our love seems to have kept me alive for so long. I know that a time will approach soon, too soon, when you will return for a last goodbye. You will ask for the last thread to be undone and I know I too will agree. I do not know why you will do it; the intricacies are something which is colossal at this point in time. All I know for sure, is that the last goodbye would tear me apart, even though I know that I am torn enough already.<br />I have forced myself to believe in things which a part of me knows to be present, but they too are an uncertainty, an uncertainty whose truth value I overlook. You will have to return. You will come back. I do not know for sure what for. But there is a chance of you asking for that which I will give without wanting to grant it. As I said earlier, I do not want to give up our love which has been in my custody, which rests in me, of which I am the protector and guardian. If you ask for me to give it up, I know I will. Death will be consequent. I don’t want to turn you into a killer.<br />I love you. Hope you do too.”<br />Ahana had left behind the letter which Shahid held in his trembling hand.<br />The last goodbye was not the letter, but the body which was being consumed by the pyre in front of him.seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-11716076466758539062007-09-27T14:11:00.000+05:302007-09-27T14:19:22.597+05:30<a href="http://www.cinderzelda.com/czpics/potato2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.cinderzelda.com/czpics/potato2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Life as we know it, sometimes becomes too lifeless or rather over-bearing in a way that it feels more like death. Death brings peace, the end of all woes. Then maybe, it doesn’t feel like death, its more of the path leading to death. And that’s what life really is.<br /><br />So, in a way, life decides to “act” like itself at certain points in time. It decides to drop the façade of being something extra-ordinary, of being something which is very beautiful. Which in fact it is not. It is the path leading to death. Nothing more.<br /><br />This makes me reach a point in thought where I’m forced to believe that like all humans, life too suffers from “identity-crisis”. It is simply being human by behaving as if it were kind, just to be a more acceptable facet. Even though, the truth is much deeper than the skin of it all.<br /><br />On a day when questions overcome emotions, when emotions overcome fact and when fact deceives dreams ; my recluse is the couch that sits in the lobby of the house which belongs to our family.<br /><br />I surf through TV channels in a seemingly vain attempt to distract myself from life, loss, dreams, death and et all. I make the attempt with as much energy and enthusiasm as would rest with an Indian football team facing the Brazilians in world soccer finals. But thankfully, the outcome isn’t as horrendous as that.<br /><br />In fact, I’m forced to wonder and wonder endlessly as to why is the “television” regarded as the idiot box? What’s wrong with being the idiot anyways? Why should people who spend time paying heed to the boons of the tube be regarded as couched potatoes?<br /><br />I submit myself to the tube, watching back-to-back comedy on star world. While watching it, I wonder whether it is recommended as therapy anywhere in the world.<br /><br />It’s a nice way to escape the escapades of a life less extra-ordinary, a life that is nothing more than a mere path, a life which undergoes identity crisis of its own. Even though its not like wonderland or an equally pathetic place, but it feels just the same-for the time that the viewing lasts.<br /><br />Life, once more, adorns the garb of a less gruesome enemy-a friend of sorts; until the crisis is shattered, the identity revealed, the path rediscovered as just a path. Nothing more.<br /><br /><br /><div></div>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-46887409474238779972007-09-05T15:07:00.000+05:302007-09-05T15:27:04.734+05:30CoMpELLed!<a href="http://rosylittlethings.typepad.com/posie_gets_cozy/images/brachsandsocks_8.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://rosylittlethings.typepad.com/posie_gets_cozy/images/brachsandsocks_8.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><em><strong>“ she is bossy and aggressive and therefore a born leader. She slapped AN ELDERLY GENTLEMAN WHO PINCHED HER CHEEKS. SHE IS OUTSPOKEN AND CAN BE VERY LOUD AND SHRIEKY. AS FAR AS PERSONALITIES GO, SHE IS COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF HER BROTHER. BOTH ARE EXTREMELY HONEST.”</strong></em></span></div><strong><em></em></strong><br /><div><br />And thus explains joyshri lobo her “Present-generation” grandchildren.</div><br /><div><br />“She slapped an elderly gentleman who pinched her cheeks.”</div><br /><div><br />There’s something about these black eyed blocks that translate a thousand thoughts. They force me into submission to a moment from a fictional non-fiction existence. </div><div><br />There’s a girl on top of a bench. There’s a crowd. Batch mates. Classmates maybe would be a better word for them, morons. They who are speaking a million syllables in a single breath.. They, who don’t know that the girl on the bench has been forced to be there. The force emanating from insolent pestering by those who forget to acknowledge her in their blabber race . They, the ones who don’t know that she’s been sleeping 2 hrs, maybe less, with each passing day. They, who don’t know that she can get high by way of will alone. They, the “batch-mates.”</div><br /><div><br /><strong>“SHAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHTTTTTT AP PEEE- PULLLLL” </strong></div><br /><div><br />Seconds of silence, perplexed looks, shocked embrace of sullen eyes. She knows they will listen now. Will the silence last and the command vibrate through a few more seconds of utter bliss? </div><div><br />Compelled. </div><div>It’s a strong word, but not fictional. She is compelled... She stands, not on the bench, but in the shoes of a 5yr old. On the porch of house where she would spend most of the 21yrs of her life growing up. This time there’s a girl in front of her, an entity-someone who would be a close friend in the future. Someone, who as of now is a cousin, an irritating, over-liked rival. An adamant soul. But then there are dew drops on her cheeks. Dew drops on a hot sultry summer evening? But that’s how they look-her tears. </div><div>Probably then, the girl who will stand on a bench one day, feeling like a maniac, pretending to be no one else, wanting to be different, is a sadist way before she knows the meaning or the existence of the term.</div><br /><div><br />Sadists don’t have a conscience. Or am I wrong? An existence without conscience, is it like an actor who doesn’t know that the world’s a stage?</div><br /><div><br />The child of a past- that engulfs the future. Is the sadist the future of the grand-child? Will the children of today face the sadists’ approach to life? Will she-whose cheeks are pinched today because of her countenance be compelled to be a maniac? </div><br /><div><br />Will the countenance of someone’s present hide the flaws of an irate mind of the future, as also, the flaws of a parent who is lost because they are a part of an inexplicable plot ?Would the world of her future not remember the cheeks from a childhood when she slaps herself back? </div><br /><div><br />Is it possible that force has a magnified multiplied reaction?</div>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989806468845417515.post-81091946461618781092007-09-03T23:46:00.000+05:302007-09-03T23:58:43.849+05:30Mulberry Trees<a href="http://www.hort.purdue.edu/ext/senior/fruits/images/large/mulberrytree.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.hort.purdue.edu/ext/senior/fruits/images/large/mulberrytree.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>There’s something about lazy Saturday mornings. They often bring out memories of an unforgotten past. A past that dwells somewhere deep down within us, but one, which is veiled by the turmoil of day to day life. </strong></span></div><div><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>Its only when it hits us like a tennis ball in a game of "pithu" that we come to terms with the fact- that we too, are as susceptible to the brunt of harsh reality as everyone else.<br />Its on one such Saturday afternoon, that I find myself reminiscing about games played on "extinct" summer afternoons .An assortment of varied rock plays in the background while I read the first few lines of Khaled Hosseini's-The Kite runner. And then, a thought hits me from a distance. its one which I didn’t predict, nor one which I can comprehend.</strong></span></div><div><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>There’s a memory which lingers in my mind. Something that dates back to the afternoons of a childhood much forgotten. Grown ups often yearn for their long lost past, which often appeals to them like a box of chocolates lying across the table to an obese on a diet. Probably then, I'm either not a grown up or the past is too far away to entice me in any other way than to make me wonder.</strong></span></div><div><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>The snapshot is one of children climbing a mulberry tree in the compound of a public school in the neighborhood; each clinging to the most fruitful branch. Some trying to make their way up the rather huge wall which does little to deteriorate their overenthusiastic souls. Scratched knees only make the mulberries' more delicious.</strong></span></div><div><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>I fail to remember anything more. For children who share the memory with me, I don’t remember who you are. The best I am able to do right now is to guess your presence on the tree only from estimates of your existence during different spans of my life. </strong></span></div><div><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>Maybe I have traveled more than any of you through this last decade, maybe you have had much more. </strong></span></div>seraphicgirl1986http://www.blogger.com/profile/06442109066777834202noreply@blogger.com4