Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Right...

I have very recently entered the world of journalism, and therefore I like to keep myself updated on the happenings around me. I generally read ‘Tehelka’, as I find it giving me information on things mostly missed (an oversight or intentionally, I do not know) by the mainstream media. Also I personally believe that ‘Tehlka’ does ask some basic and fundamental questions, which the mainstream media hell-bent on making a fool out of itself almost always refuses to ask. So, a victim of my habit of getting the most accurate (I think and hope so) or at least the most sensible information, I once again logged on to Tehelka’s official website. The cover story this time was about the case that in my opinion should win the ‘most- blown- out- of- proportion-not- even- that- high- profile- a – case’ award. Yes, you have guessed it right; it’s the Arushi murder case.
When I saw Arushi’s face smiling down at me from the cover picture, I groaned inwardly. My first thought was, Oh no! Not again. I expected better from you ‘Tehelka’. I expected you to give me other important news which is being blatantly ignored by our mainstream. I expected you to tell me about something on Naxalites in Bihar or some other tragedy like the water problems in Bhopal, which are not even considered to be news worthy anymore by our so called national newspapers and news channels. But alas! You have also joined the popular bandwagon and are out with your own theory of the murder.
It’s not like I had any issues with Arushi. Hell, I wasn’t even aware that she existed. That is until a month ago, when suddenly every news channel was talking about the cruel murder of Arushi by everyone and anyone. The way the police was accusing people left- right and center, and the way the media was coming up with its own theory, it seemed like either Arushi was this super-girl and was attacked again and again by the evil lord, as she just didn’t die the first time she was attacked, or else she did die the first time but the father, the compounder, the servant didn’t realize and went again and again to kill her.
If any mainstream media person is reading this, my dear sir, this ridiculous interpretation is what I came up with, from those absolutely ridiculous reports that you, without an iota of evidence or basic common sense put up on your channel.
And by the way, with the entire circus around this case, no one even bothered to talk to her friends or extended family, or ask the police about the three glasses in the drawing room or why didn’t it dust the house or at least her room for finger prints and what the hell was the time of the murder?
All we saw and heard was how she was a characterless girl desperate to sleep around with any goddamm man! “She was found in a compromising position with her servant”; “She used to chat with boys”. Firstly, was anyone present there to see how and with whom she was found in her room? Or was that servant even there in the room to be in a compromising position with her? Secondly, if a 14 year old does not talk with boys or for arguments sake (although no one has any proof) flirt with boys, who will? I mean she was a teenager. And that’s what teenage is all about. Crushes, boy friends, flowers, chocolates, rains, holding hands and blushing furiously if a boy/girl the one you like, even just smiles or turns to look at you. That’s the age when we all have crushes, which are taken so seriously by us, that we think that we are the Romeo’s and Juliet’s of this world. So even if that girl used to flirt or go out with boys, what’s so scandalizing about it? And how the hell is she characterless by doing this, when we all go through this wonderful stage called the teenage?
So, you can understand my exasperation with the whole case. Initially I ignored the article and went ahead to read about other things. However, my curiosity to know what ‘Tehelka’ has to say about this case, got better off me and I clicked on the story. Reading the first paragraph itself made me realize that finally I will know what exactly is the case all about. I shall proudly pronounce that my faith was not shattered, and the feeling of disappointment not allowed to take over me.
I came to know a lot more about the girl Arushi and not just the victim. Her relationship with her parents and friends were explored in a delicate yet detailed manner. Her social life was discussed, but not to malign her, but to add a personality to a mere name. And finally the basic questions were asked and the protectors of justice were called upon for a much needed explanation.
However when I was reading about her father and the relationship she shared with him, I was reminded of my own father. My father loves me and he completely spoils me by fulfilling all my wishes before they are even out of my mouth. He just can’t say no to me, no matter what my demands are. Even if he says no, all I have to do is bring a few tears in my eyes and he simply won’t be able to stand his ground, and say yes immediately.
Arushi’s father according to the report was the same. I then started thinking, how can he have killed her? I know my father won’t even allow a fly to hurt me, let alone he himself being a source of pain. No matter how big a mistake I have committed in his eyes. Then the images of her father being held by the police and all the accusations made on him by the police, media, my very own friends and family, started forming in my head.
I was scared. Scared because it suddenly hit me how quickly we judge people without even giving them a chance to defend themselves? How we always try to put another person, any person in a bad light and stand up as the wiser, morally right and the protectors of justice. How we are so damm insecure that we will try and put absolutely any random person on the slaughter table, without even knowing what their crime is, and persecute them using our weapons of suspicion.
Isn’t it a fact that the middle-class is enjoying itself splashing mud on this family because they will hate it if there is no scandal involved in the case? Because scandal will mean having a person or two who have a dark side to their personality, and then everyone can feel good about their much flaunted morally right and “good” side.
I wonder will we ever be able to get over this insecurity and start accepting things the way they are and looking at situations from all the aspects and in a way that they deserve to be looked at.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

My Palace.........

Sitting in a comfortable room,
On a chair beside my Barbie doll window,
With the sun making my face aglow
And the moonlight making it bright,
I used to write poems of love and hope.
When I used to feel the hand of sadness closing in,
I used to rush into the arms that were always open for me.
I used to cry in them, complain in them,
Leave the weight of my heavy heart and again move in
My world, created with a rubber protection around me.
I used to bounce back into those warm and soft eyes,
Whenever, the evil or the harsh used to stare at me.
And then I used to again sit by my window,
Reminiscing about the shadow of darkness,
And write about the different shades of black.
I was wise then, maybe even understanding,
But never did I realize the magnitude of the world outside,
I used to look out of my windows,
And only see shadows,
Of the world beyond my own.
The one in which I lived and the one that I owned,
I was confronted by those shadows once in a while,
But was never consumed by them.
I did recognize the shades of dark,
But was never a part of them.
And then one day, the protection gave way and a crack appeared in my palace of glass.
I ran away to another room, but the mirage broke apart.
It gave way to another world, a much larger one,
I realized I had many elements which were combined into one.
All my pieces fell apart and they created their own world in many different parts.
I found a new palace in various places,
The walls of which were painted in different colors,
Colors which were not blue or black,
But a blackish blue and a bluish black.
They reflected differently in different lights,
Sometimes glowing in the harsh sun,
Sometimes becoming dark and dank
and losing all its shine in the rain and the dark.
But it was still a palace nevertheless,
One in which I grew much bigger than my height,
And shrank smaller than I ever might,
Have done in my glass palace.
I am still creating such palaces,
In different worlds that I live in,
They are still made of glasses,
But glasses that are much stronger.
Although they are delicate and might be broken by the stone of grief,
But my hands of faith will make them again,
And my mind will always go back to the pages of memories written in that palace,
And will remember the time spend, however brief.

Colors

Looking at the sky today,
I felt like reaching towards it and touching it.
Then I looked closely
And wanted to take away the colors that it displayed,
The purest of white,
The grayest of grey,
The black of the night
And the blue of the day,
I wanted to touch the softness of the orangish pink,
And drink in the lightness of the grayish blue,
I wanted to snatch the colors away from the sky,
And drown in them, having absolutely no clue,
Of tomorrow or today,
Of the night or the day.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Main

मैं.
एक अनूठा अनोखा शब्द “मैं”.
कभी मेरी सक्शियत को सवार्ता,
कभी उसे दूसरों से जुदा करता है यह "मैं".
कभी ख़ुद मैं इतना घुल जाता की
ख़ुद से हे डर जाता है यह "मैं"।
कोई इसे मेरा स्वार्थ कहता
कोई इसे मेरी अस्तित्व की पहचान बताता
मगर इन सब से जुदा है मेरा "मैं"।
यह एक साया सा है,
अपनों को पराया करता,
और परायों को अपना करता,
शायद एक माया सा है.
मैं ख़ुद भी नही जनता की "मैं" क्या है।
अकेलेपन का डर,
या उसका एक अंश.
भीड़ से अलग एक पहचान बनने की कोशिश,
या उसी का हिसा बनने का प्रयत्न
बस इतना जनता हूँ की मेरा हमेशा साथ देनेवाला साथी है यह,
मेरा आनेवाला कल और मेरा माजी है यह।

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

A Childhood Destroyed

Picture this. A 12 year old girl is sitting and watching TV alone at home. The shadow of a man falls on the wall opposite her. Her body tenses and she sits up a bit straighter. She prays it isn’t a repeat of last night. It felt like her body would explode and she wouldn’t be able to get up again. She starts crying and begs God to make her mother return at that very instant, but her father has already begun to unzip her dress.
Incest between fathers and daughters is far more prevalent than most middle class Indians would care to admit. The word in the popular mind might suggest consensus: the more accurate meaning in these circumstances is the rape of innocents in your care.
“A 16- year old girl child was being abused by her own father,” says Father Edward of BOSCO, an NGO dealing with street children. “An NGO member came to know about it and had the child agree to file a complaint against her father. When the family came to know about this, instead of helping and supporting the child, they deserted her. Similarly in another case, seven boys abused a 15-year-old girl child after giving her drugs. When we contacted the family, the members refuse to either talk about it or file any complaint.” Child sexual abuse according to him is a growing problem and a concern.
Child Abuse: India in 2007, a report prepared by the Department of Women and Child Development defines sexual abuse as inappropriate sexual behavior with a child. It includes fondling a child’s genitals, making a child fondle adult’s genitals, intercourse, incest, rape, sodomy, exhibitionism and sexual exploitation. To be considered child abuse, these acts have to be committed by a person responsible for the care of a child (for example a parent, baby sitter, etc.) or related to the child. If a stranger commits such acts, it would be considered sexual assault.
According to the report, 53.22% of all children in India were sexually abused. Andhra Pradesh, Assam, Bihar and Delhi reported the highest percentage of sexual abuse among both boys and girls. As many as 21.90% of child respondents reported facing severe forms of sexual abuse and 50.76% other forms of sexual abuse. 50% of the children were abused by a person known to them or in a position of trust and responsibility. Most of these children did not report the matter to anyone.
In a study conducted on the same issue of child sexual abuse by Anita Rattan of Samvada, an NGO, she notes that 47% of the respondents were molested or experienced sexual overtures, 15% of whom were less than 10 years old. 15% of the respondents experienced serious forms of sexual abuse including rape, 31% of whom were less than 10 years old.
Says Father Edward of BOSCO, “We don’t have data to prove this. But out of 4,500 children that we get every year, 60%-70% of them are sexually harassed. Street children, mostly girls are more vulnerable to sexual abuse. Although, boys are also not free from such abuse.”
“The people the children trust the most harass them, for example father, mother, tuition teacher, a close relative, neighbour, or just an older friend.” He continues, “In case of street children, the younger kids gets sexually harassed by the older ones. For example, a child who comes to Bangalore from let’s say Mangalore. The child will befriend some older kids, who will gain his trust and then after a few days will start sexually harassing the child. These kids live on railway stations, bus stations, etc. This is the problem that exists in society. The physiological and physical health of the child is not considered in face of the social stigma that will be attached to the girl if the word comes out about her sexual abuse.”

According to a report in citizenmatters.in, Dr Shoiba Saldanha, a gynecologist and counsellor by profession, who is active in Enfold, a Koramangala-based NGO creating awareness of child sexual abuse, says that 30%-40% of the patients who visit her are sexually abused children. Dr Shekhar Seshadari of the National Institute for Mental Health and Neurological Sciences, Bangalore, in a study conducted in the late 1990s on 146 boys found that 15% had been sexually abused by family members, friends or neighbours and the abuse started as early as at 6 years of age.

In an article on Boloji.com by Aditi De (and Nazu Tonse), who set up Askios, a local self-help group for woman survivors like her in Bangalore says, “I don't remember most of my childhood, except for brief flashes of when I was about three. I blocked out the experience of abuse, as many survivors do. I was 13 when I spoke to my parents, who got upset, made sure the perpetrator didn’t visit us any more and told me to get on with my life,” she recalls. “It was only in my mid-30s that I found it impossible to ignore the sexual abuse I had undergone as a child. In about the year 2000, a psychotherapist in Bahrain worked with me for almost two years to help me to heal.”

According to a report by United Nations Children’s Fund or Unicef on child sexual abuse in South Asia, in India victims of sexual abuse were abused by family members, relatives and close friends. Says Binoe Manuel, a social activist working with Save India Family Foundation, “I had a case where a divorced mother of an 8 year old daughter remarried. This girl was excellent in her studies before the marriage, good at elocution, extra curricular activities. She was the life of her class. Then she started lagging behind. Her attitude towards life changed. She even tried to commit suicide. When counseled we discovered the reason for the sudden change was the sexual advances by her stepfather.”

He adds, “Sexual harassment is not restricted to girls, even boys are victims of such abuse. I had another 10th Std student, who was brought for counseling due to numerous complaints of his sexual advances towards the girls in his class. We discovered that he had been forced to have sex by his paternal uncle’s wife.”

According to a report by UNICEF, sexual abuse of children severely undermines the notion of ‘personhood’. Its psychological and emotional impacts include depression, fear, mental disturbances, sleeping problems and low self-esteem. Says Mr. Manuel, “The child looses confidence in everyone after they have been sexually harassed. The child then just stops trusting anyone and everyone. Kids like such, lose faith in wholesome relationships. They find it extremely difficult to believe that people can actually like them for what they are, and not seek any sexual pleasure or don’t have any ulterior motive behind their actions. However, if counseled properly, they might be able to get over their past.”

We believe that our children are our future, so how can we allow so many of them to tortured in this way? Says a victim, “I want to challenge this world and ask people how they can continue to let things like this happen? How can they allow children to live unprotected while those who commit violent crimes against them go free? How will the world take the responsibility for children and protect them from violence, sexual abuse and exploitation?”

Monday, June 9, 2008

Before the meeting...

A few days ago, I had my first meeting with my editor, with three other new recruits. One of them was a friend….no an acquaintance, and the other two completely unknown to me. We were sitting in a close room which looked like a typical cabin in a typical corporate house. The walls were white in color; the door made of light steel, a light shade of grey, with ‘Conference Room’ written in white, on a dark blue board. The room itself was not big. It was one-half of a long room, and was divided by a partition of sorts. It had a wooden table in the middle of it, which looked like someone got bored while in the process of making it, and therefore decided to leave it half-way. The result was it could neither be called a long table, nor could justice be done to it by calling it small. It served the purpose of both, depending on the role it was called to perform in different situations.
There were five seats around it. Two on each side and one on the far right of it. The seats were in blood red color and black handles, which rounded around them on both sides. They were the typical corporate sorts, which gives your back a very good reason to complain about the discomfort it endures while sitting on it. Also, when the message of such sorness is sent to your brain, it helps it in revising all the forgotten notes it took in profanity in your not-so-classy circles.

There were large windows in the room, on the left hand side of the wall, and were hidden behind shades. They were fitted in and therefore could not perform their duties fully, adding to the expenses incurred by the company on electricity bill, as the sole savior of the people in the room was now an A.C. The A.C also was not an ordinary one. It had a mind of its own and I think that it was tired of people asking for its services too often. So it switched off the moment it saw that the people in the room have stopped wiping the sweat from their foreheads and have just started heaving a sigh of relief.
The four of us took our seats, two on both sides. Whether, it was the conspiracy of the forces of nature or the company’s unconscious effort to balance out the different temperaments, I don’t know, but it so happened that there were two girls and two boys each on either side of the table that day. The boys were being chivalrous (quite surprising as most of you will agree with me that finding chivalrous boys these days is like finding a pin in a haystack.),and remained quite for most of time.

Now, Sneha being a shy girl isn’t really comfortable talking to guys. And I, although the word shyness rarely ever crops up in my dictionary, wasn’t left with much to say, as I was surrounded by people who by the looks of it, had sworn never to open their mouths ever again. So all of us were left to dwell on random deliberations that came to our minds as we were not forced to stir our thought process in a specified direction.
So, I started my favorite activity. Observing my colleagues. I love observing people. It’s so much fun to just sit quietly and see how people react to their surroundings. Saurabh, one of the boys (the more chivalrous one) and the quietest of the group was sitting on the edge of his chair. He appeared to be devouring an article in the ‘TOI’. His position was quite precarious and a sudden movement or a frightening ‘boo’ from behind could have landed him right on the cold floor. I imagined his embarrassed faced on the floor and a clumsy effort to get up, and silenced a giggle that was threatening to come out any moment. I looked at his hunched shoulders and his extremely formal attire (very much unlike me) and thought about this t-shirt I had seen the other day in ‘Westside’. It read ‘Be nice to nerds, they can be your future bosses’.

Now I shifted my gaze to the other character sitting next to him. It was easy to recognize that he was the extrovert and the outgoing one of the duo. He was comfortably seated and was half-spinning in his chair. Although he was wearing formal clothes, he was wearing it with an air of a person who was used to wearing casuals more than formals. Therefore the formals that he was wearing transcribed its basic nature of authority and discipline into a relaxed and laid-back one. He looked like a guy who was uninterested in any kind of sermon to be given to us by our seniors or the editor. One peculiar thing I noticed about him was that he was mostly always smiling with his eyes half closed. It looked like he was a saint giving gyaan to his disciples about the various complicated situations that one faces in his or her life. I was quite amused by him and smiled at his laid-back attitude, not unlike mine.
Then my attention turned to Sneha, who was sitting right next to me, I was pretty sure worrying about anything and everything in this world. She was quite unsure about meeting the editor and this was written all over her face. I could actually see her mind racing, thinking about thousand different things. What will the editor say to us? Why are we here? What will he make us do? I don’t know anything about technology. What if he asked me something about some latest technology? How will I answer him? What will these guys think? They are surely more proficient in this subject that I am. I knew I should have read more in the technology. I wonder how I will catch up with all this tech jargon and latest tech news. I also wonder whether this will help me if I want to change to mainstream. Will the mainstream guy’s prefer me if I come from such a niche background? But GP sir said they will. So, maybe they will. I hate the food in my PG. I would like to have some north Indian food. I wonder why these guys took up this job. Are they interested in the mainstream? Maybe they are. It’s quite late now. Where is our editor?

I was enjoying myself seeing Sneha play with her hands on her lap and her body stiff with tension, when the door opened and a kind smiling face entered the room. I turned my attention to our editor and like a good gal ended my interesting journey, where I so unceremoniously threw my fellow colleagues into my own imaginative mind-reading fantasy.