Thursday, December 12, 2013

Supreme Courts LGBT - Lets Go Back in Time




I have somehow been kept away from writing and the excuse I had was that by the time I would reach home from college (Bandra to Vasai) I am already half dead and that my hands then only reach out for the pillow and not for the keyboard. Yes, I do stay in Vasai and when people hear of it, they think of Vasai being a far off desolate place beyond the city limits and their eyes open up as wide as the grand canyon, with a 'do you really stay there? expression'

My crazy schedules have kept me away from television as well hence my only source of news currently is the newspaper which yesterday gave me the shock of my life. The supreme court yesterday overturned the decision of the Delhi HC and proclaimed gay sex as illegal. Vipul Shah, are you listening? This is what you call time travel! The supreme court took us 100 years back in time within five minutes, which you failed to do through your three hour long crap called 'Action Replay!'

I am pretty sure the self - proclaimed savior cum protectors of our Indian Culture and Heritage would have danced nude on a cheap bhojpuri remix in their bathrooms on hearing this verdict as it is a boost to their already inflated and rusted egos. However, it was a cruel blow to the LGBT community who have been fighting for their rights across the globe since eternity but have not yet got their due.

I somehow cannot figure out one good reason as to why do we call ourselves a democracy. We have no freedom of speech (goons vandalize our property if we say the truth), our rulers care a shit about us, we do not know which one of them is using our hard earned money to by property abroad or to inflate their already huge bellies, and now we do not have the right to choose our sexual orientation as well! So now people in love need to get the supreme courts consent first before you go to your parents.

It certainly does not make sense as to how can choosing your own partner could be a crime? We cannot make sure that every individual's body functions in a similar manner. If it indeed was a democracy, we should have had the freedom to make our own choices, isn't it? No matter how much do we progress in terms of economy, infrastructure or the number of billionaires, our mindsets will keep rotting in times of the Aryans and our Human Right, oh sorry! This term doesn't exist in India, so its wrong to use it here.


As I now finish writing, I head back to the calender just to confirm whether the date is indeed 13th December, 2013 or 13th December 1913. So all the flag bearers of our culture can enjoy another dance while we express solidarity to the fighters of their identity and as Michael Jackson sang 'you are not alone!' 

Sunday, November 17, 2013

The Last Hurrah

India did come to a standstill on the 15th and 16th of November. No no, it was not a politically motivated bandh and neither it was in protest of Ram – Leela which apparently has hurt religious sentiments of some wannabe dudes who want their 15 minutes of fame. It is amazing that people who would not even visit temples in their lifetime would end up having religious sentiments so strong, that they would be hurt by any random film, and they would go on filing court cases just to show their wives that they indeed are handsome not just in bed but also on TV! But lets keep that for another day. This one is for Bharat Ratna Sachin Tendulkar, whom we bid a tearful farewell yesterday.
It is no child’s play to carry the hopes of 1 billion people for over two decades. He did that. Not even in the wildest dreams would one think of scoring 100 hundreds. He did that. Not everyone would succeed in uniting the nation who would constantly bicker over the pettiest of issues. He did that too. And when the time came for the final farewell, the entire nation was in tears with him as he walked of the pitch. That’s Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar and his impact for you. Forget the nation demanding an answer; the nation just demands Sachin to keep playing till eternity.
The deathly silence that engulfed the stadium when he was dismissed, 26 short of what would have been a fairytale end was terrible. It broke a billion hearts. Even us, who in the middle of a lecture were busy pretending to practice the latest adobe software while simultaneously keeping a tab on the score on the internet. We let out a collective F*@! When we realized that it was all over and that he will not get another opportunity to bat, considering the pathetic quality of the West Indian batting.
And true to my word, the Caribbean side batted worse than a club level side. Mobile scores revealed that they were 9 down and our lectures had just concluded. We sprinted two floors down to the canteen where 200 of us Sachin Crazy fans had already gathered in front of the TV to watch the final few moments of the legend. And as Mohammad Shami uprooted the middle stump of Shanon Gabriel, the crowd let out a roar to celebrate an India win, but soon the atmosphere turned glum as we began to realize that we won’t be able to see the man we all grew up watching again on the field.
And as for the final time he began to walk back, our canteen turned into a mini Wankhede, with chants of ‘Sachinnnnn…Sachin’ echoing on all 10 floors of the building. People were in tears and so was the man himself, sinking in the end. For a man who carried the nation’s hopes on his shoulders for 24 years, it was fitting to have a last lap around the stadium on the shoulders of people who are expected to carry forward during his legacy. His speech moved us all and no one sat on their chairs for those 40 minutes. It was indeed touching to head to the pitch, which gave him everything that he has, one final time and pay his respects to it. And it was all over!
We danced with you during Sharjah 1998,
We sympathized with you during Chennai 1999,
We stood by you during the Match Fixing scandal,
We encouraged you after the World Cup disaster of 2007,
We fulfilled a dream along with you in 2011,
And we cried with you during your final match.

Thank you Sachin for 24 years of ‘Sach’ entertainment and countless moments of joy! You carried the nation with you and a small part of every cricketer and cricket fan breathed its last with your retirement. Cricket will never be the same without you!

And finally in the words of the late Tony Grieg, “Whadda player!”

Adios Master!

Sunday, November 10, 2013

When Logic died an Illogical death!

If an award could ever be given to the worst contrast in a day, I would be its winner hands down! I have had the worst possible contrast that one could ever manage. One fine Saturday evening, I saw one brilliantly crafted film ‘Gravity’ and wondered “When would Bollywood make something like that?” so in order to come back to square one, I ended up watching one of the most hilariously pathetic film ever made. It was called Deshdrohi!
There are good films and there are bad films. Deshdrohi falls into neither category simply because it is not worthy of being called a film. It stars Kamaal. R. Khan, who would well go down as the poor man’s Jerry Mouse and Gracy Singh who resembled a wrestler straight out of a fight along with other random actors.
The film starts off with KRK running in a way that would give Usain Bolt a whole lot of Superiority Complex. The song playing in the background goes by the lines “Mere Halaat ye kya hue hai khuda.”
(Look at my circumstances, o Lord!) This was exactly the song I ended up singing at the end of the movie, considering the feat I just pulled off. He jumps into a random train which takes him straight to Mumbai. Talk about accuracy here! In Mumbai, he meets Gracy Singh and some random turn of events let him ending up murdering over 10 people, who are supposedly villains. It is how you take it, but few moments in the film would let you end up laughing your guts out or you would feel like murdering KRK himself towards the end;
·         Gracy Singh rides a dirt bike in the film. Her helmet is so heavy that it knocks down the villain only by minor contact!
·         The most famous attribute of KRK in the film is his burping. His sounds while he falls of a cycle, thrown off a bus or even when he is shot is similar to a burp or a constipated person.
·         When KRK is shot thrice, Gracy Singh doesn’t come out of the car until the third shot and the moment she does, the driver of the car runs away with the vehicle!
·         After he is shot, Gracy Singh doesn’t have any mode of transport to ferry KRK to the hospital, so she chooses to do that in a hand cart. Considering the contrasts in their weight, she did that single handedly. KRK on the cart did not look like a person who was shot thrice, but was writhing like a woman gone into labour!
·         When Gracy Singh’s brother is shot dead, both she and KRK leave his blood soaked body in the middle of the street and head to Dubai to dance on a romantic song! Talk about disrespect!
·         And last but not the least; KRK’s revolver has infinite number of bullets. He keeps shooting people at will, without even reloading it. Guess he never played Virtua Cop when he was a kid.
KRK deserves full credit for the film. He has produced the film, acted in it, wrote the story, screenplay (They did not exist) and dialogues (Pathetic) of the film and even watched the movie on his own. He (does not) act like a dream, dances with a creepy smile like a man suffering from a fit, and cries worse than a daily soap heroine!

You still ask me for a rating? On the contrary, I should be rated five on five stars for sitting through the entire film and watching a massacre of film making and logic! 
“Mere halaat yeh kya hue hai khuda!”

Thursday, November 7, 2013

The adventure of a train journey

It may well go down as the life line of our city of Mumbai, but travel by train could well be an adventure to remember or even a nightmare, depending on the way you look at it. ‘Problems to hai sabke saath, bas nazariye ki hai baat.’ (Everyone has problems, its just the way you look at it.)
Observing people while on a long journey from Vasai to Bandra and back has exposed me to all sort of creatures, some good, some not so good and some not falling into either category because they simply go down as irritating!
Attempting to get on a train from Vasai after 6:30 AM is a futile task. You get on to a train after that, good for you; you manage to get in, you are lucky and if you get to sit, check your calendar, it may be a Sunday.  
So not wasting time in making futile attempts to board a train from Vasai, I head to Virar from Vasai and then head to Bandra. The good part of a long journey is that you get to know all sorts of samples from across the place, but the bad part is when you are bugged out of your wits, a one hour journey could seem like a light year.
An additional perk of a train travel is that it teaches you to be more patient. There would be instances where you would wish to beat the pulp out of a person, but the crowd would not allow you to move your hand, let alone beating someone up! The closest you can get to is hurling the choicest of abuses at that person and have a debate louder that the one conducted by Arnab Goswami!
Few common observations that I have encountered in my travels for so many years;
·         There are groups which get formed in the train and the group leader is always referred to as ‘Bhaiji.’
·         There is always a ‘Sharmaji’ or a ‘Vermaji’ in every train that you go. No wonder India is a country full of 1.2 Billion plus people.
·         There would always be an individual who in his moment of extra zest, would look to board or jump out of a running train, no matter how empty the train is.
·         There would often be an occasion where the announcer in the train would announce the name of a station in the opposite direction making you wonder whether you actually have boarded the right train.
·         People of Dahisar station are only meant to bid goodbye to the train during the morning peak hours as they just do not get to board it.
·         Dadar station seems like a Kumbh mela, whichever time of the day it will be. The best place to set the Indian version of ‘Lost.’
·         Every person wearing a white shirt is not a TC! The guilt of people travelling WT immediately surfaces once they spot a person wearing a white shirt.

Whatever be the case, trains certainly have been my source of entertainment for the past many years, and have become a part of my daily life! Pudhill station...Vasai Road, Agla station…Vasai Road, Next Station…Vasai Road. So long!

Monday, November 4, 2013

The Blame Game

It is not what the ‘pundits’ thought it would be. A fairly inexperienced Australian side did give Team India a run for their money in the recently concluded ODI series, but the hosts eventually held their nerve to win the final ODI and the series 3 – 2.
Barring the two games that were washed out, every game was a run fest. India at two instances chased down scores in excess of 350 and Australia almost chased down 380 in the final game. Many blame it on the flat sub – continental pitches which are a graveyard for the bowlers, but to a certain extent, the bowlers are equally responsible for them being carted around the park. The bowling in all the five games was nothing less than pathetic.
Lets take the Indian bowlers first. Barring Mohammad Shami and R Ashwin (in the last two ODIs), the rest of the attack of completely off colour. And competing with each other as to who is the worst bowler of the team were Ishant Sharma and Vinay Kumar. While Ishant became the villain in the eyes of the nation with a ‘lolypop’ 48th over to James Faulkner in Mohali, Vinay Kumar jumped into the game by conceding over 100 runs in only 9 overs that he bowled at Bangalore. It was really over optimistic of them both to bowl at speeds of less than 130kmph, bowl length balls in the slog overs and expect them to be respected by the batsman. As Harsha Bhogle rightly mentioned, “The Yorkers have gone out of fashion.” With lack of such basic knowledge, you cannot blame the pitches for them conceding that amount of runs. The Australian bowling attack looked resigned to fate once the Indian openers got going. Barring a Mitchell Johnson, no bowler looked half as threatening as him.
Every story has its flip side; the new rules of the ICC (which makes it mandatory to have five fielders inside the inner circle at all times) have indeed made it difficult for the bowlers to contain the runs, but if the ball keeps sailing over the ropes at the rate of knots, it is irrelevant whether they are in the circle or on the boundary. This has given the bowlers a chance to develop themselves into better bowlers and develop new skills to contain the batsmen. Unfortunately, they have spent their time cribbing over the rules rather than working on their own game.
India will take heart from the fact that Rohit ‘talented’ Sharma is finally justifying his ‘talent’ which we were hearing of since the past six years. His talent is finally translating into runs. Whether he gets a chance to make his test debut against the West Indies remains to be seen.
MS Dhoni sounded worried about the future of the ODI game in context of the new rules. It would be better if he looks for better bowlers for his team while we all shift focus to the final series of the ‘GOD’ of cricket – Sachin Tendulkar!


Tuesday, October 29, 2013

One Man who inspired a Nation

So the day is finally here. The one whom people referred to as ‘God’ has finally decided to call it a day. A BCCI tweet that Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar has decided to retire after his landmark 200th test spread like wildfire and the media went abuzz with Tendulkar documentaries regarding his innumerable achievements and the legacy he leaves behind.
Cynics were gunning for this call since the past one year as his bat has been relatively silent during this phase. He had not scored a century after the Cape Town test in 2010, his reflexes had slowed down, but the intensity was still the same. Little do the cynics remember that it was Tendulkar, who carried a team of not – so good cricketers during the entire 90s (even a 10 year old Virat Kohli would have played better than those). The Indian team during the 90s was the typical “Tu chal me aaya types” as once Tendulkar was out, the rest followed like a procession.
Circumstances were such that people began to feel that a country like India doesn’t deserve talents like Tendulkar as there is no one to back it up. It was only during the early 2000s, that the concept of ‘Team India’ really began to take shape with a bunch of fearless youngsters led by Sourav Ganguly. The Famous Five (Sachin, Ganguly, Dravid, Laxman and Kumble) were at their prime during that phase.
A World Cup win was the only dream Sachin had unfulfilled. It was a case of so close yet so far in 2003, but in 2011, the dream was realized as it was by far the best team India had seen after 1983. The calls began to grow for Sachin calling it quits in ODIs after that but he continued to play, scoring that historic 100th century against Bangladesh, which incidentally was his last ODI tournament.
People say he played for records, which wasn’t the case. The records were made to be broken by him. The heart breaking 136 he scored against Pakistan in 1999 at Chennai, a match which India lost by 12 runs, still make you sympathies for him, and his twin centuries against Australia at Sharjah in 1998, make you feel proud.
When will he? How will he? Where will he? No one could predict it but it did come unexpectedly! The penultimate two times you would see the modern day Bradman in Whites! So it really doesn't matter whether is a duck or century one last time, just enjoy the privilage of watching the great man bat so u can tell your kids "I saw Sachin playing"




Sunday, October 27, 2013

The Mystery of J

An expression of remorse gripped the face of the culprit as its body, 5ft. 9 in. Long was being taken to the gallows for the murder of an elderly women for money amounting to not more than 300 crores. The culprit dreamt of a life of luxury, lived one as well, but greed got the better of the culprit which ultimately led to the murder.
It was a cold chilly morning at the Royal Palace of Udaipur. The outside of the palace resembled nothing more than the Buckingham Palace, the halls were decorated with beautiful paintings of Rajasthani culture, lifestyle and also of the forefathers of the royal family. The rising sun welcomed a brand new day. The sun shone bright on the spotless white marble of the palace. But there were spots within the palace and not outside. The year was drawing to a close and so was the life of Kusum Devi, the matriarch of the family and the sole owner of her huge estate worth 300 crores. Her palace was huge enough to accommodate many small villages of our always developing nation.  She lived a blissfull life with her two sons, Jagat, the elder one and Jatin, the younger one. Both sons were married to Sumitra and Mitali respectively. Two of her ever so obedient and trustworthy associates, servant Ballu kaka and her P.A, Sinha, were also a part of her family. All seemed ideal. But as it is said, all that glitters is not gold. Same was the story of her family. The brothers never got along with each other and so didn’t their wives. Fights were common in the day.
As soon as Kusum Devi finished her bath and walked into her room, she welcomed a visitor with a smile, “Why are you wearing gloves?” she asked, but before she could get an answer, her face was smothered with a pillow by the visitor, who after this gruesome act, eloped thinking that she died. But she had breath left in her. As Ballu kaka entered with her breakfast, the tray fell from his hands as he saw his mistress gasping for breath. He ran towards her and asked her about the incident. All she could mumble was “J........J.....kkkkiilllld....J” and she lost her breath. Ballu kaka screamed for the entire family who took their own sweet time to arrive. But it was all over.
It was a dark sultry evening. The air was heavy with unspoken regrets and recriminations. The family stood around the body of the matriarch, waiting for the funeral rites to get over. Each of them was biding the time before the floodgates could be opened and war could be declared. Afterall, each one was curious to know, who had a bigger share in that huge fortune of 300 crores. Even before the pyre could cool down, the blame game began. One brother blamed the other. Her post – mortem report said, she died of Asphyxia – meaning death due to suffocation.
The family was in for her bigger shock when they were read out the will of the matriarch in which she had named her nominee as Sinha and not anyone of her sons. One among the four was shocked more than the remaining three. The entire property now belonged to Sinha which made the family more suspicious about him. This made them summon the police for investigating her death.
As the palace gates opened, a tall lanky man in a khaki uniform walked in. He walked in by moving his stick in the air. As he was very fond of carrots he always had one for company. The family was engaged in a war for property, but he was fighting a war of his own. He was tall enough that poor Jagat had to almost stare at the ceiling to look at his face. “Inspector Vijay Khanna” out came a voice from this towering personality. “I am incharge of this case.” He walked upto Jagat and asked him, “Why did you kill your mother?” Jagat went red in the face. “How dare you ask me such a question? If I were the culprit, why would I call you myself?” “Now – a – days the culprits themselves call the police to be on the safe side and so that they are not doubted upon. Everyone is a suspect in front of the law. Please co – operate.” The cop shot back. He asked Ballu kaka to lead him to Kusum Devi’s room.
Kusum Devi’s room was no less than a palace in its own right. It was bigger than the home of a normal middle class Mumbaikar. The red carpet spread all across, the portrait of her deceased husband on the wall painted by none other than the great M.F.Hussain himself, the chandeliers whose glass was imported specially from Belgium, the statue of the growling Tiger near her bed, gave out a typical royal essence. Finally, Vijay’s browsing and inquisitive cat eyes went to her ‘safe’ or her ‘Tijori’ in Indian terms. There were no signs of sabotage. “Might not be for stealing” he mumbled. He was pretty sure that the culprit was one among the four as he knew that a stranger could not be easily let in from the palace gates, let alone the queen’s bedroom. As Sinha was away during the time of the murder and Ballu kaka was the one who summoned the entire family, his suspicion grew stronger. He was further helped by Ballu kaka, who revealed that the Queen’s last words were “J........J.....kkkkiillll....J.” the entire family was summoned in the main hall.
Jagat, Jatin and Mitali were in the hall. Sumitra arrived late. “I like getting dressed. Whether it is an inquiry, a wedding or a funeral. Ask whatever you want quickly. I need to go for a party.” She wore a bead encrusted sari. The cat eyes went wild again. They saw a bead missing from her sari. But he chose to remain mum about it.
“ahh sure. We will leave you Mrs.....”
“Sumitra. Call me su.”
He first went up to the two J’s as it were the last words of the Queen. “I was out for my early morning stroll.” Jagat fumbled as he spoke. “Don’t blame me for all this. I didn’t kill her. I agree that I always fought with her as she preferred Jatin more than me but that dosent mean i killed her.” Jagat kept blabbering. Vijay’s eyes then went upto Jatin. “So mama’s boy, where were you then?
“I...I was having bath then.”
“Really?”
He nodded his head.
“But Ballu kaka says you were in the kitchen at that time preparing tea for your wife?”
“Ya. She likes the tea I make for her.”
“So why did you lie then?”
“I didn’t know what to say. Just leave me. I don’t know about all this. I was mom’s favourite child. So why will I kill her and that too at a time when she had promised me that she will name all her property on my name? I am sure Jagat killed her because he overheard us last night and we had a huge confrontation due to this.”
“Oh really! Ideal circumstances for a murder. Right? Mr. Jagat?”
“I already told you that I was away for my morning stroll and that I didn’t kill her. Why are you after me? Why don’t you say that Jatin has bribed you to implicate me in whatever circumstances?”
Vijay walks towards Jagat he gave him such a stare that could have easily wetted anybody’s pants. “Not all cops are thieves.” He said. He left the house thinking about the mystery of the ‘J’ word. He sat in his office wondering. Both the J’s were busy in their Jobs when the incident took place. Jagat was away for a stroll, Jatin was busy making tea for his wife, and so who could it be? Could it be a stranger? The ‘J’ word was driving him nuts. He had to visit the Queen’s room again. Only that could give her a clue.
He again began examining the room. As he bent down below her bed, he found a bead lying on the floor. He picked up that bead which could be from a sari. “That can’t be rani sahiba’s bead.” Ballu kaka said. “She never wore a sari that had beads encrusted on them.” He continued. “So who wears such saris?” Vijay asked munching on his carrot. “Both Bahuranis have plenty of such saris. If you will go checking out each one of them, years will pass. They have truckloads of such saris and who can say which sari had how many beads?”  
His pendulum of suspicion shifted from the men to the ladies. He was reminded of the bead that was missing from the sari that Sumitra was wearing yesterday. He summoned both of them together. Sumitra was late as usual as she was getting dressed. To Vijay’s surprise, both of them turned up in bead encrusted saris. He showed them the bead. “I found this bead from your mother – in – law’s bedroom where she was killed. Familiar isn’t it Mrs. SU?”
“What makes you say that?” Sumitra shot back.
“I saw a missing bead from your sari yesterday and I am sure this is the missing one. Can I have that sari please?”
The sari was brought out. He put the bead to its place. It indeed was of Sumitra’s sari. “So why did you murder her Mrs. Sumitra, oh sorry Su?”
“I didn’t do anything as such. I am very careful of whatever I wear. I never wear a sari that I wear once. And I wore that sari yesterday so it’s impossible that I could have worn this the day the oldie was murdered.” Sumitra clarified with no regret of calling her Mother – in – law an oldie.
“So how did that bead fall over there?” probed Vijay.
“I don’t know from where this damn thing fell over there. I have enough work to do in life then murdering old people. Now can I please leave? I have a party to attend.”
“No you can’t because you are now a suspect for a murder. No one will leave this house till the case is solved.” 
The bead however wasn’t enough to prove Sumitra guilty. And if she indeed was the culprit, why did Kusum Devi say ‘J’ before she died. She never wore this sari before so who laid her hands on the sari before it was worn by Sumitra? There were many questions in Vijay’s mind and he had to find an answer to all of them. He went to the laundry staff to enquire about the sari but even they didn’t have a clue. He also thought of Mitali as a suspect, but the ‘J’ word still haunted him. Who was that ‘J’? When he went to Mitali to ask of her whereabouts during the incident she said she was watering the plants in the garden as she liked doing that and she rushed upstairs as she heard Ballu kaka’s screams. But he grew suspicious as during the first inquiry she said that she was asleep. But he kept this to himself as he wanted more proof. The gloves which were used in the murder were still missing and he needed to find them.
He went upto the terrace and discovered the burnt remains of the gloves used by the culprit. But something that wasn’t burnt was the size of the glove which very faintly resembled the word ‘S’ meaning small. Small sized gloves were used in the murder. One hurdle was crossed. He got his fish. The culprit was indeed a woman. But ‘J’? That mystery was solved by Vijay when Ballu kaka blurted out a dark secret of the family that only the four suspects and Sinha along with him were aware of. Vijay returned home a happy man and that he will reveal the culprit tomorrow in front of the family.
Next morning while Mitali carried tea for him, he casually asked “heloo Jessica?” the tray of tea fell from her hands. The remaining three were shocked to bits.
“Who...who Jessica? I am Mitali.”
“Really? But people say you are Jessica.” Vijay said with an evil grin of victory. So what made you change your name?”
“I am Mitali” she screamed.
“How I wish screaming could prove a person innocent. Look I have a gift for you.” Vijay said in his merry tone. He took out a pair of small sized gloves which were identical to the ones used in the crime. They fitted Jessica perfectly. This was the ‘J’ that Kusum devi was reffering to and that almost drove Vijay mad. “So do you tell your story or let me do the honours?” Vijay asked sarcastically.
 “I was a bar girl in Mumbai. Jatin was there for his studies. He used to visit me regularly. We fell in love. But his mom did not accept our relationship. So we secretly got married and came to Udaipur. I was reluctant to leave Mumbai but Jatin convinced me to do so. He said that he was his mother’s favourite child and that her entire property would be in his name after her. So I came with him. Her mom accepted our pair then but she was a mask in reality. Whenever Jatin was away from home, she and Jijji kept taunting me about my past and that they would brainwash Jatin to leave me and get married to someone else. I loved Jatin a lot and didn’t want this to happen. So I killed her.”
“And the bead?” asked Vijay.
“I knew that jijji never wore a sari she once wore. Thats where I faltered. I took the bead of her sari when it was about to be sent for dry-clean. I should have taken the one she wore that day. I wanted to implicate her because even she didn’t leave a stone unturned in making my life miserable in Jatin’s absence. I wanted to leave my past behind but they never let me do.” She broke down.
An expression of remorse gripped the face of Mitali as her 5ft. 9 in. Long body was being taken to the gallows for the murder of her Mother - in - law for money amounting to not more than 300 crores and priceless self respect. Mitali dreamt of a luxurious life, lived one as well, but greed and her inner soul demanding for self respect got the better of her which ultimately led to the murder.

Friday, October 25, 2013

The Plight of our 'Feeder'


'OLX pe bech de' has the correct timing for its campaign since it has had many new products to be sold. The latest of them being Ishant Sharma (First get him a barber!) Even Ajit Agarkar, who recently retired would have second thoughts on that decision after watching that abject display of bowling, or shall i say 'Ball Feeding' to James Faulkner. But more on prince 'Hairy' on a later date.
It is said that the one who feeds us deserves utmost respect in our lives. But that farmer who creates that grain to fill the country’s 121 billion stomachs by slogging day in and day out is languishing today in a pitiful condition. Really pitiful. Let alone respect, he is barely able to make ends meet!
Maharashtra, apart from Mumbai and Pune, to a certain extent is an agro- based state. Most of its revenue is generated through the sale of cotton and other seasoned crops which grow on a large scale in the state. The region of Vidharba is the states prime agricultural belt and the most cursed one too. The farmer here is heavily dependent on the rain gods for the success of his crop due to poor irrigation facilities inspite of crores of rupees being sanctioned for the same. I guess it’s our ministers homes that are being irrigated through that money!
The country in the past decade and a half (1995 – 2011) has seen over a quarter of a million of farmers committing suicides in Vidharba and the regions nearby as they were unable to handle the debt that they had taken. The National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) places the exact figure to be 2, 56,913 – 15,964 in 2010 itself. People all over the country have been rattled reading about farmer suicides every other day but all their pleas have ultimately fallen on deaf ears, like every other plea or cry for help in our country does.
One such case was of Kalavati, the one who became a symbol of resurgence when she was mentioned by the AICC General Secretary Rahul Gandhi in a moving speech in the Lok Sabha in 2008 that earned her the 15 minutes of fame. But that was all. Her condition still remains the same or infact worse as members of her family are continuing to commit suicide due to extreme poverty. Someone might have not told Mr. Gandhi that speeches can help people earn sympathy, but it can’t fill their hungry bellies.
Inspite of working from 8 in the morning to as long as 6 in the evening on their own farms and even as labourers on other’s farms, all these farmers (most of them are women as their husbands committed suicides) earn only as much as Rs. 1500 a month! It is sad to see that a government with a top notch economist at the helm is unable to figure out a solution to resolve their plight. There may be countless such Kalavati’s all over the country, but unfortunately there is no one to listen to them.
Solution: banks could be more lenient in allotting loans to the farmers so that they don’t need to turn to the portly and greedy moneylenders – a character immortalized by the likes of Prem Chopra and Kanhiyalal in our Hindi Films. It is reported that these moneylenders charge interest as high as 40 – 50%, something which makes it almost improbable for the farmers to pay back the loan. Also, middlemen could be abolished so that the farmer can sell the crop directly to the government and that half of his income is not usurped by him.
Our farmer was once the symbol of our country but today he lies in abject poverty, on the verge of death, and slowly fading into oblivion if prompt action isn’t taken!