0312.I shall remember.

The shouts. The cries. Vande Mataram! I trained my eyes onto an oncoming group of people. Dressed in chaste white Shalvar Kameezes, donning white skull caps, flowing beards, they were devout Muslims. Then I noticed the placards. “Pakistan is a Terrorist State”. Indian Flags aloft. The Group was highly animated. Pretty Large number by any standards. Raza Academy, the people behind this organised walk. They brushed past. Then, the clapping started. Thunderous! All around me were people who stopped what they were doing and applauded this segment of our community for doing what they did. It was then I realised the strength of my country. India.
Let me rewind. Blogs, SMSes. Facebook. Orkut. Everywhere was this call for being there at the Taj on 03.12.08 to send out a message to the entire country, the administration and the Politicians that we were to be no longer taken for granted. Non Cooperation was the word that Suparn, my organiser coined. As the day dawned, I had other pressing matters of the office to take care of. As if in sign of honour of the day, BEST got rid of the electricity in our office building at 8.45 am as I reported for work at my office. I lingered for a while at the chai shop while BEST put things right. The talk was about mundane things in office when someone piped up that he would be going for the march in the evening. Now, I am not really forthcoming about my other life with my office mates. So, I mumbled about me going there too.
Evening 6 pm. I hurried to finish my work at office. Left at 6.10 pm. My driver was smart enough to get to Churchgate by 6.40 pm but after that it was snail pace. I could see the sea of people all over, in “I love Mumbai” T shirts, with placards, flags and other assortments of democratic indignation spilled all over right upto Metro, that old and venerable movie hall. I did not fume. Let the driver be. He instinctively got everything right too. We turned in front of the Mumbai Police Headquarters. I told him that he needed to drop me there and proceed to any parking space that he could get. I would walk it from Regal. Ha! Little did I know that it was the only decision that could be taken under the circumstances.
Manjeet, my friend from PFC had already called and was waiting somewhere near the Ferry place along with our other mates. So, my mission was to get there first. But, what was this. ‘Sea of people’ was an understatement. People on the road. People on Traffic Podiums. People on the dividers. People on cars. Even people on the shoulders of other people. The Tricolour had been freely bandied about. There were scores of them. Banners were there in all shapes and sizes. The grim ones, the smiley ones, the naughty ones, the solemn messages, the concise ones and the silly ones too! Politicians. Pakistan. Parties. Media. CM Deshmukh. Raj Thackeray. RGV. Achutanandan. Naqvi. RR Patil. They were all lampooned.
Then the Cries. Vande Mataram was a crowd favourite. Jai Hind rang out all the while. Then the made up ones. Poor Pakistan bore the brunt. “Jab tak Sooraj Chand Rahega” was another favourite. Scores of youngsters in Tees. I had never seen such an emotional outpouring ever in my life. Absolutely never. There was no breast beating, mind you. Just a response. A huge response to a call given by fellow citizens about the state of our country. There were people from Colleges, from surrounding offices, from the far suburbs, all classes of the society, all religions and all age groups. I saw young kids in shorts doing “Jai Hind”, saw perfectly sane housewives from South Mumbai shouting “Down Down Pakistan” and a very old couple with the lady holding aloft the National Flag proudly and walking erect beside her husband of many years leading a bunch of very boisterous youngsters to an amazing effect. I took my time soaking in this unique and historic happening. I plodded along amidst this amazing humanity. I shouted too. I laughed at some ridiculous slogans too. The occasion was sombre but the people weren’t. The glint in the eye was combative, resilient and intelligent. Nobody was there to make merry. Not one soul did misunderstand the occasion. But they made it their own. It was so freeing, so life giving!
I reached Gateway of India. Manjeet, Raja and Suparn were there with their group. We talked about some normal stuff. Actually, I did not have much to talk. I was overwhelmed. Totally taken in by the sense of occasion. I am not Harsha Bhogle who can reel out a measured take on any occasion leave alone Cricket. I was not Alyque Padamsee or Mahesh Bhatt who could have given a philosophical edge to whatever was happening, anywhere. I just stared and stared. Trying to make a sense of where this could go. Shortly, we were joined by Kartick and Ashish. Kartick told me that he was witnessing history here and then would again be witnessing history back in US in a few days again with the Obama induction. Yes, he was absolutely right. This is history. In the making. And I just hope I can be some part of it!
Lastly, as we were coming back, we could see a large group of people standing still in the middle of all the melee. Went closer. “Jana Gana Mana” was on. I also belted out the last lines as I joined them. A sense of relief swept over me. This is my dear country. India. Redux.

Kolkata Police - a Nightmare!!

This is in response to the ongoing scandal involving the Kolkata Police and the Todi family. I am not shocked at all by the goings on in Lalbazar and elsewhere. I had been a resident of Kolkata in 2004 and was consulting a company that was involved in converting a cinema complex in Central Kolkata into a Banquet center. The proprietor of the complex had financial problems and wanted to come out of his problems by making this center.

The New Market thana was the local police station. I do not remember the names of the officers but I do remember the way they pummeled this businessman into a shell by their strong-arm tactics. They landed up at all hours of the day with frivolous issues and exorbitant money demands. The businessman had to meet them and had to undergo the strain of meeting their demands. The entire Police station was involved in this extortion and there was no respite. Once, the businessman went to Lalbazar to talk to some other known people there but the extortion increased after the New Market people came to know of his escapade.

I was a veteran in Kolkata police and political affairs by way of heading Hotel projects in Central Kolkata where one keeps coming across a lot of such filth. But, I was taken aback at the intensity of the extortions. The Thana OC went on to comment that there was no one above the Police and that he should quietly pay. Then, the local political thugs were also let loose on him. Building permissions from KMC were delayed intentionally resulting in more mayhem as the businessman wanted to cut losses by opening fast.

I left the city then with a very bad taste in my mouth about Bengali government servants and politicians. I am vindicated when I see the filth spewing out now with the Rizwanur episode. No industry shall be able to come up in the right manner in Kolkata as permissions have to come through KMC and the Police. They are among the most corrupt and loutish in the entire nation. I have built a 60 crore company here in Pune in one year flat. I would not be able to do even one-fifth of what I did in the same time.

Some Police officers used to tell me very engagingly that they have to do it as there is some quota system or else they are questioned. This money goes right till the top. If anymore needs to be ascertained, somebody should ask the OC of Shakespeare Sarani Thana (2002) as to how many properties he owns in Kolkata and its surroundings. He may not say but his colleagues used to go green with envy in Police Club then!

They are worse than hooligans and it is not the first time that Kolkata has witnessed a murder by the Police officials for money. Prasoon Mukherjee has a lot to answer for!

New Life, is it?

August 25th 2007
The bomb blast happened at Lumbini Garden in Hyderabad. I was there..I mean there..and had a narrow escape..however one might put it..it was narrow for me..I did value my bones and flesh before..I do more so now.
So, what did I learn then??
That life is short and we shall have to make the most of it..a la Anand??
Or ponder, pray, get religious and ask for Moksh or some such fangle??

Hey, I just remembered..a poem (if you don't mind please)

Ah! I look upwards..
Was life so difficult,
before, when I was younger,
Supple legs running,
Up the Nilgiris..
Not a care..Not a Care.

Naah..it was not,
I do remember,
for evil was there then too,
But I gave a hoot,
Gavaskar was bigger,
A issue for me and friends,
For Amritraj ruled,
Our consciences all times.

No fear or tremor,
Except Balan Sir,
When he pinched,
And my skin inflamed,
Except Ma's shouts,
When I emptied,
The Biscuit container..
Ten at a time.

Time passed and,
We got more robust,
Rode Cycles in 40* heat,
Chandrapur roads perspired,
But cared little,
"Laila O Laila"
On our Lips;
And Hair over the ears.

No fear as I entered,
My youth, my golden years,
Proposals and disposals,
took them all in stride,
Studied when I could,
Played all the more,
Heeded Dad's advice,
But was on my own.

Today, I stand aged,
I have my strings,
That are pulled taut,
To my family dear,
But why am I fearing,
Of destiny's will,
Of the Unknown beyond,
Will Never Know.

A state of Mind,
Is that it..Just,
That can be shaken,
And Purity regained,
Ah! I shall try,
Surely, No harm in that

If that is a bad poem..I shall not try my hand at it...anyways Ciao!!!!