Freedom Fighter Guptaji

Guptaji was working in the Organising Committee for the Commonwealth Games. His father was a freedom fighter who died in the struggle for freedom. He was too young when India got its independence, but he had blood of his father. He always regretted to have taken birth near independence; else even he would have given away his life for the nation like his father.

Mrs Gupta was married to Guptaji for the last 29 years and their story was not different from the story of any other couple. Guptaji would come back from work and Mrs Gupta, after serving him water, would start complaining about everything.

‘Look at this TV it is so old. Even Mrs khanna has purchased an LCD now’. ‘Look at Prateeksha, she doesn’t concentrate on her studies, she is on phone all the time’ ‘Why don’t you say anything to Lau, he is becoming useless like you’ ’I want to take part in a new kitty, I need more money’

While his son, Lau, had passed engineering 3 years back, he had no job.

‘I want a new bike papa. This bike is now 3 years old. I want a 220 cc now’ ‘I want to go for higher studies in Australia’ ‘Papa X-Box... at least now you can afford’ ‘Papa please yaar’ ‘please can I take your car today’ ‘Papa there is party tomorrow night at RPM, I promise no alcohol but I need money’

The daughter, Prateeksha was no different, she was in class 12^th, but her mind was already in sky:

‘Hey poopi Look at this stole, I got it from Janpath, only Rs 1000.’ ‘I want to be an air hostess, I don’t want to study’ ‘look at mummy she keeps telling me all the time what I should do’ ‘Isn’t my skin glowing today, I spent Rs 5000 in Kaira Skin Clinic.’ ‘Can I take these Rs 500 lying here, I need a new deo’

Sharmaji, who stayed in a flat right opposite to Guptaji’s house on the first floor, would park his car every evening in front of Guptaji’s house. Guptaji had to fight a battle after coming back from his office to let him park his own car inside his own house. But the next day Mr. Sharma would again park the car exactly in front of his gate.

“yeh tuade baap di sadak haigi’ (is this your father’s road) ‘who are you to tell me that I should not park my car here’ ‘I am having my tea, after it is over, only then I will remove my car’ ‘Hath lagake dikhao gaddi nu, hath kaatke phenk deyanga’ (dare you touch my car, I will cut your hands)’ ‘Give me money, from tomorrow I will park somewhere else’

The gardener cum Car Cleaner, Shivlal, wanted Guptaji to increase his salary

‘Sirji you are very miser, cant you give me another Rs 500’ ‘Kya sirji you still have Maruti 800, look at Sharmaji, he has Honda now’ ‘Sirji I will suggest you something, sell off this old kothi, I Know one party that will buy, I will take only 2%’

Mr. Gupta was involved in the construction of a stadium for Commonwealth Games. Mr Gupta one day came to know that sub standard quality building material was being used for the construction of that stadium. His boss Mr. Saini replied

‘What do you think you are? Don’t try to become a freedom fighter; one is enough for your family. ‘Do you think contractors of the stadium are dumb fools, you know better than them about the quality?’ ‘Next time you act smart, I will throw you out and would not let you have your salary’

Life had made this aspiring freedom fighter a lame duck.

*******

One day while checking the progress of the stadium, roof collapsed and a concrete block fell on the head of Guptaji. He was quickly taken to AIIMS. Doctor reported that lot of blood was lost due to accident and they would have to operate him right now. Guptaji’s family rushed to the hospital. They were informed on arriving that they would have to replace the blood used from the blood bank for the surgery. Mrs Gupta got worried and started crying. She didn’t know what to do. Finally Lau, Sharmaji, his two sons, the gardener and Mr Saini gave their blood to the blood bank.

For the next 7 days, Guptaji was in a state of unconsciousness.

Mrs Gupta cried all day, wondering how the family would survive, if anything happens to her husband. Lau forgot the bike. He decided he will quickly find a job for himself and prove himself to be a responsible son. Now he was thinking about appearing for IAS exam. Prateeksha stopped wearing makeup. She prepared food for the family instead of talking on phone.

Meanwhile Sharmaji realising his mistake stopped parking car in front of Guptaji’s house. Mrs. Sharma would prepare lunch for Mrs Gupta and the children and Sharmaji dropped the Tiffin in hospital on his way to office.

Shivlal praised the humble nature of Guptaji all day in front of others.

‘What a man he is? Simple living, high thinking.’ ‘He can buy 4 Hondas at once, but he is happy with his old Maruti’ ‘He just doesn’t believe in show off’ ‘What a son my malik is? He has retained his ancestral properties for years. I wish I have a son like him’

Soon the frauds in the Commonwealth Games came to light. Mr Kalmadi and all the other involved in the games were under the lens. Mr. Saini, to project himself as an honest official, reported the use of sub standard material first to the media. He realised it was Guptaji because of whom he was saved from being a part of corrupt officials’ list. He decided to give him bonus once he resumes his work.

Then Mr Sharma opened his eyes. He saw the development around him. What he could not do when he was healthy, his ’near death’ did it. He was happy. He thanked God for this blessing in disguise. He came to know about the Games as well, and also about his bonus. He thought life will be smooth from now onwards. Doctors advice him bed rest for 6 weeks rest.

*******

Lau and Prateeksha had decorated the house with diyas for his home coming. He noticed Sharmaji and his sons had parked their cars somewhere else. He was jubilant. The moment he arrived, mali Shivlal fell on Guptaji’s feet and started crying in happiness.

Seeing that everything has changed around him forever, he thought it is high time that he does he had always wanted to do in his life. In the second week he knew what he wants to do.

I will start an organisatio that will book corrupt officials. We will file cases under Right to Information Act, against those who ask for money in the government office. I will change the whole system now.

By the third week things started becoming normal again. Prateeksha started going to school, Lau looked was sending his resumes to company. He realised IAS is too tough for him. So he dropped the idea. He thought corporate world is forte. Shivlal came one day and asked Guptaji if he colud increase his salary at least by Rs 200, though Guptaji refused it straightaway, it didn’t offend Shivlal. ‘I understand sirji, lots of money has been spend from your pocket. Kuch nahi hota’ Commonwealth Games started on a high note with splendid opening ceremony in Delhi. Sharmaji visited Guptaji every alternate day with his wife. Mr. Saini also came home twice, once with his family and next time alone.

Fourth week was pretty much the same, there were occasional fights at home between Prateeksha and Mrs Gupta, but they would resolve their issues within minutes. Towards the end of fourth week Guptaji got his insurance money from the bank. It was Rs 5 lakhs in total. Though government had paid for his operation at AIIMS, Guptaji still applied for the insurance as he thought it was a good opportunity to avail the money as his family would be requiring it in the near futre for Lau’s marriage or Prateeksha’s further studies. He thought of depositing the entire money in the bank.

On Monday, the fifth week, Lau decided to speak about the bike.

‘Papa I need the new Karizma bike. I know you have got lot of money from insurance company, what you will do with it?’ On hearing this Prateeksha, who was outside, came in the room and taunted ‘ahahaha.. I know very well why you want that bike, its cause of that girl Diya, she likes it I need that money I want to join Frankfin Airhostess Academy after my board exams.’ Mrs Gupta, who was till now cooking in the kitchen came inside and shouted at Lau, ‘Don’t you have a brain? Look at your age, you don’t have a job and you want a Rs 1 lakh bike for you girlfriend! You are absolutely useless like your father’

Shivlal was watering plants in the garden. He overheard the conversation that was taking place inside the house. Next morning he approached Guptaji and said ‘Sirji did you think about increasing my wage?’ Guptaji refused like every time. But this time Shivlal threw the leaf cutter on the floor and shouted back at him ‘I haven’t seen a miser person like you. Keep that Rs 5 lakh in your underwear and roam around in your old maruti. I am leaving this job’

Commonwealth Games was over and CBI had started raiding the houses of senior officials who were in the Organising Committee. They raided Mr. Saini’s house as well. Though there was no case of misappropriation of funds filed against him, he was booked under a section of Indian Penal Code for negligence on his part allowing the use of sub standard quality material in the stadium’s construction. In his statement to the authority, Mr. Saini named Guptaji as prime accused as according to him, in his team, it was his duty to check the quality of material being used.

It was Sixth week now. Guptaji sitting alone in his room, was laughing at himself. He was thinking of correcting the system when he can’t correct his own life! He was feeling thirsty but there was no one at home to serve him water. Mrs Gupta that day had two kitty parties to attend. Lau had gone out with his girl friend. Prateeksha had gone to Sarojini Nagar with her pals for shopping. There was no power in house as the inverter had stopped working 2 days back and despite of Guptaji’s repeated request no one had cared to call up the electrician. And as the power wasn’t there, he could not switch on the motor for water, so there was no water in taps as well.

He heard a horn of a car outside. He expected Lau as he took Guptaji’s car these days, till he gets his own bike. He went outside. He saw it was Sharmaji who was parking the car right in front of Guptaji’s gate. Guptaji came forward and requested ‘Sharmaji will you please park your car somewhere else, Lau will be coming any time soon. He would need this space to park our car’

To which Sharmaji replied, ’Yeh tuade baap di sadak haigi?’

From The Venus II

This time on From the Venus, I write how women of our country can be of great help in making India a better place. Women are a source of a massive untapped energy that needs to be exposed in the correct way. And if this resource is utilised in the right way, we can surge ahead towards development at the speed of light.

To all my male readers, believe me, even after writing this piece of article I am very much on your side.

Solving Kashmir and Naxalism:

The issues of Kashmir and Naxalism are fairly identical in nature. Though the problem of Kashmir is graver and has been in existence since division, it shares lot of similarities with Naxalism.

The victims of both the cases are the commoners of the land who have been neglected by the successive governments that first promised them world in the name of development and then delivered nothing. The Armed Forces (Special Power) Act has made the valley a breeding ground for miscreants.

Apparently many ‘messiahs’ stood up for the poor people of these disturbed area, who showed them a new light. They promised to give what the Indian Government only promised and never give. Subsequently they pulled the masses on their side. Once the masses were on their side they gave them stones and guns to attack their enemy- The Indian Government.

I am not here to judge whether what happened was right or wrong, but now that these movements are against the values of democratic India itself, I thought its time mothers and sisters take over.

The first task that government of India needs to do the most is to get the common masses on their side and “bonus packages” are not the only way to it. The Indian Government must win them psychologically. The government can use the women power to accomplish this task. They can use the women in Armed forces, socially active women or even the journalists working in these troubled areas; let them loose, let them be themselves. If they intermingle with the local women in the area, they can help in winning back the trust of rebels by convincing the natives, what all can Government of India offer them. After all a woman is a woman’s best friend. Also psychologically it is easier to win a woman. Making two men sit and talk may be the toughest task. Where as we only need to make two women sit together, dialogue will start automatically.

Its time India uses its pawn.

Education-Population-Unemployment

These three problems are persisting at large in our country, and we must stop regarding it as an inescapable aspect of human condition. Over a very short period of time, poverty and infant mortality rate can be reduced dramatically, while gender equality and education can be dramatically advanced. World is full of such examples, and rural women of Pallakad district in Kerela along with Dr Prabhakar have proved it too.

It is no accident that the micro-credit is provided only to women. In most of the world, poverty has a female face. They experience poverty more than men. Generally when money is given to a man it seldom tickles down to the family. Women take far more serious responsibility of bringing up their children, and they bear the brunt of this task. The result is that when women are empowered, family is empowered.

Also statistics have proven that families in which women are educated have lesser children, than otherwise. Education introduces family planning to women. They use protections and take necessary precautions. They are less likely to get influenced and exploited by external factors. Also a child spends most part of the day with his mother, it is necessary that mother is educated, so that she can share her knowledge with her children and thus help in bringing up a good family and hence contribute towards making a superior society.

Overpopulation is one of the chief reasons for unemployment in the county and raising lesser number of children for increasing employment opportunities may sound childish, but it somehow makes sense if its impact is studied over a long period of time.

I conclude, educate the mothers, enhance the society.

Other side of the Indian Sports

When we talk about sports in India, the first thing that strikes us is cricket, then the Indian National Men Cricket Team. Of the 5 pages allotted to sports section in the morning newspaper, 3 pages are filled with news of cricket or cricketers (male). The other two pages are filled with news related to the loss suffered by the Indian Men’s National Team in hockey, table tennis, basketball, swimming, etc. After reading all this we wind up thinking that the Indian sports’ condition is very dismal. Now check this out.

Joshna Chinappa, India’s best Squash player, was the first Indian girl to win the British Squash Championship title in 2003 in the under 19 category. She is currently ranked 31 in the world. Anjali Bhagwat, a rifle shooter from India, won four gold in the individual and pairs events of Air rifle and Smallbore Rifle in the 2002 Commonwealth Games in Manchester. Saina Nehwal, Indian badminton player, currently ranked number 3 in the world, completed a hat-trick this year by winning the Indian Open, Indonesian Open and Singapore Open. This resulted in her rise to 3rd ranking and subsequently to No. 2 in the world. MC Mary Kom, a female boxer from Manipur and also a mother of two, came back from a two-year sabbatical to clinch her fourth successive World Amateur boxing gold in 2008, a feat that prompted the International Boxing Association to describe her as 'Magnificent Mary'. Earlier she had won the same in 2002, 2005, 2006 as well.

If that wasn’t all, Indian women's national field hockey team won Gold for three consecutive years: during the 2002 Commonwealth Games (the event which inspired the 2007 Bollywood hit film, Chak De India), the 2003 Afro-Asian Games, and the 2004 Asia Cup. Indian National Women Cricket team reached the finals of the Woman’s World Cup last year losing only to Australia in finals. Nevertheless it won Asia cup successively from 2004-06 and 2008.

In addition to that have you ever heard of any scams involved in female versions of a sport, like the male’s version? And the one that takes place are the one that is done by the male coaches of the women team.

India is on its way to become a ‘Sporting Superpower’, as far as women sports are concerned.

Taking care: from Economy to Rehabilitations:

There is a general misconception about women in India that puts different labels on them, from cultural cartoons to western wannabes. But Indian women have demonstrated stratospheric level of aspiration-85 percent aspire to do a top job, double that of their counterparts in US. While 85% women consider themselves very ambitious, only 65% of Chinese feel the same (this may be partially due to the fact that the concept of female ambition is seen though a negative prism in china, unlike in India). The childcare issues drag down the career dreams of Indian women to a far lesser degree than their western sisters. Thanks to the existence of joint families, inexpensive domestic help and an increasingly wide range of day-care option. Hence the educated women are one of the chief engines of the dynamic economy of India.

Indian woman have shown great spirits in running NGOs.The same can be used in rehabilitation work that is being carried out in various parts of India. Their sense of event management is unmatchable.

Even in politics, which was once believed to be a man’s domain, they have proven that they are capable of handling everything (other than the finance ministry).

Delhi Post Mortem

On my trip to Delhi, I travelled its length and breadth to cover the entire city for my album “bhraman”. I observed New Delhi has the potential to be world class city that can boast of 1000 years old heritage and a modern engineering marvel side by side, just like London or Paris. But there were many things about the city, neglected by the higher officials and people alike, which made me sad, really sad. This is a post mortem report of New Delhi.

The First Look

When I got down at Nizamuddin Station on 3^rd july, exactly after a year, I could see a visible change in the city. The roads were clean and painted on sides, footpaths had beautiful tiles laid on them, and the landscape was beautiful with benches at small distances and trees planted all along the road. The new sign boards on the road side gave Delhi an international city look. The city was covered with expensive agra sandstone to give that “heritage” look. But as soon as I entered Shankar Road from Talkatora Road, it appeared to me that Delhi hasn’t changed at all. The same potholes that were there last year, were still not filled up with tar. The jhoparis on Pusa Road cross-section were still there. When I entered Patel Nagar, I thought I have entered Paharganj. I inferred the development is taking place only where foreigners are expected to come. I see no reason why Rs 20,000 crore were being spend to certain pockets of the city and that too to impress “angrez log”. Rather the money should have spent on developing the city on a whole. This is what I call “post-independence slavery”. And we are champions in that.

(Un)Common Wealth

While I was in Delhi, I read every morning, news or an article about how the games are going to be a flop show. Everyday some person would take up this job of an astrologer, and predict that the games in Delhi would be a dud. I agree the games are affected with delays and bad planning, but now that it has already been done, why can’t we as citizens contribute to make the event a success, a bhagidari. Why is media always so pessimist about everything? They fight to be the first one to report about a falling ceiling, why can’t they point that out to a labour or a thekedar working there, rather than screaming in top of their voices “Games are doomed”.

Delhi government has also failed to promote the games. When South Africa was hosting its first Rugby World Cup post apartheid, Nelson Mandela took personal initiative to see that not only the stadiums are built but also, rugby should be made popular within the country, because he was aware of the concept of “home advantage”. So he personally asked the Springboks captain (South African Rugby team is known as springboks) to travel the nation with his team to make South Africans familiarise with rugby. Result: The entire country was present in stadium to support their nation and as a result The Republic of South Africa won the World Cup in its debut match! Indians living in towns and villages are unaware of any such event taking place in the country and people in cities know about the games only for wrong reasons.

Rs 22,000 crore has already been spent and still there is unpredictability of games in air. They say a decent woman never makes history. I say a decent man can never head a sports body in India. And if this is the case, there is still more than a month, ask Mr Gill and Mr Kalmadi to leave and hand over the job to “the indecent” Lalit Modi.

Uncultured Capital of India

I have spent more than 30 months of last 36 in Bangalore, but still I can hardly identify myself with this city. Not that it is bad; it’s just that it is not Delhi.

But there is something that Delhi should learn from Bangalore(or South India). It is the culture. Delhiites are the least cultured amongst Indians. No wonder when I am asked to recite a vedic shloka or a hymn, I only know Gayatri Mantra or Hanuman Chalisa, that are neither vedic and definitely not a shloka

Every morning when I get up and look down my window I see people drawing rangoli outside their house. If you ever visit a south Indian house in morning, they smell of sandalwood agarbatti that mesmerizes your senses. Each member of the family gets up at 5 in the morning. Take bath, pray individually to god in their dress (which is special one for morning prayers), apply vermilion and only then have their breakfast. And this culture reflects in their lifestyle as well. They dress up simple, women seldom use lipstick. They are warm. They fear god and so think twice before doing anything wrong (there is hardly any person who travels in bus without a ticket, and the ones who are caught are biharis).

On the contrary Delhi is a city made by people who migrated to India during partition and as a result it is a homogeneous mixture of Harayanvi, UPites, Biharis, Punjabis, Bengalis and Marwaris. Cosmopolitan culture exists in Delhi, which is good but Delhi lacks roots, which makes it so vulnerable to outside influences. I wish Delhi was as cultured as any of the south Indian city. As I always debate, rape cases in Delhi is 100 times more than in Gujrat because, Delhiites address an unknown women as “madam” and Gujratis address an unknown women as “ben”(sister in gujrati). Hope someday people in my city would also learn to address a woman as “behen”.

Biharis Are Menace

From my very first post on this blog I have bought the idea made famous by Raj Thakrey (Though I have always opposed his violent way of handling the problem). The government must find peaceful solutions to send the large number of haryanvis, biharis and UPiites who come to Delhi though a middle man via illegal channels, a case of human trafficking. Over the past four years since my family has shifted to Dlf, we have observed the changing demography of Gurgaon, where Bangladeshi females have increased in large number over the years working as domestic help.

Just for the record, Lord Lutyens, the architect of Delhi, had designed the city for 10,000 people. Today Gurgaon’s population is only 25 millions, delhi's is in crores.

Manners First

India must be the only city that allows people to drive on the white line that is marked to separate the various lanes on roads. Despite of the boards put up by the authorities asking people to drive in lane (if they cannot drive ‘inside’ the lane), people drive randomly at any speed, on any lane. When I am driving I always wonder, if ants can walk in line why can’t humans? Also Delhi has a long way to go before someone tells them; by spitting on road we are making our own city dirty. This is a very peculiar habit of Indians, they will ask their housemaids to clean the front of their house and dump the garbage in front of their neighbour’s house. No wonder new low floor buses are as dirty as age old blue line buses. Livelyhood Award to Delhiites for keeping metro clean.

Preserve The History

There are many parts of Delhi, I observed which are left unnoticed by the government of Delhi. Structures like Sheesh Ganj Gurudwara which is such an important reference in History, is unnoticed by the authority, even when it is right in front of the majestic Red Fort. At least the Sikh community knows the importance of the building but what about the State Bank of India building in the old Delhi region which once housed the court of English Rulers-the place where George Berresford and his family was executed by the freedom fighters? Or the Tomb of Aurangzeb or the baolis? Its all lying in shabby conditions with no one even noticing them, neither the government, nor public and most surprisingly not even Archaeological Survey of India. Preserve the heritage, lest we fight for it tomorrow. Just the way we fight for Ram janmabhoomi, if only we had preserved some historic document that proved Ram Temple existed at the site of Babari Mazjid, India would have been a better place.

Be the CHANGE

Earlier last week the principal of our college asked me to interview the Chief Justice of Lokayukta, Karnataka-Justice N. Santosh Hegde for the college magazine. In the course of the interview that lasted for an hour, I asked him many questions on his life, what makes him happy, what makes him sad, how he handles the power that is given to him… One thing that left an impression on me and I thought it cleared one of my greatest misconceptions was that when he told me “Safal, I always believed that I will change this world, I will change the society and make our society free of corruption, but when I sat on this chair (referring to his position in the law which gives him power to question even the chief minister) contrary to my belief I realized that I can never ever change the society. All I can do is bring a change in my ownself”

It is very true. I have grown up believing that one day I am going to change the world, I will change the whole system of working. Probably writing on mool-dhara was a step in that direction and aiming to appear in civil services exam also stemmed out of it. But that interview made me realize that I can never change the society or the system. All I can do is do my own little good for the society sans any expectations that the entire world will change for good. And it is not only applied to me, but to everyone who reads this blog (or will never read it). Be it any issues of the world, it is the duty of every individual to take up the cause of the change he or she wants to see in this world. Be it global warming, corruption in the government offices, bad politics or be it anything else. If you believe in a cause, take up that cause-preach and practice it.

A few days back, I used to think like George W Bush ”Global warming? Huh.. where is global warming.. I don’t see it.” I still don’t know how true this whole fuss about global warming is, but my sister who is working for TERI (The Energy and Research Institute headed by the famous environmentalist Dr. R. K Pachauri) got this worm of ‘save the planet’ injected in me. I may never stop eating non-vegetarian food (for those who are new to this topic; according to a famous research done, eating beef and chicken adds heavily to global warming as it reduces the carbon credits from earth) but I make sure I compensate that by switching off lights and other electrical appliances as soon as they are not in use, whether I am in home or in college. I go walking to my college (this helps me cut down my growing paunch too!!!), I celebrate every earth hour in my PG-we have a badminton championship for an hour under the street lights during earth hour. With requests I have convinced my landlord to keep two separate bins-one for the material that can be recycled and other for non recycled material. I have subscribed to e-bill for my post paid mobile connection as well instead of a paper bill. All thanks to my “green” sister.

A friend of mine feels sympathy for the way Muslims are viewed with suspicion around the world, so he has taken up this cause on facebook. Another friend of mine, who himself hails from New Delhi and was barred from voting, made sure all his eligible friends in Bangalore vote at the recently held city municipality elections. Our college never had a tech fest organized in 10 years of its existence. Recently a group of students from 2^nd year Computer Science department came up with the idea of a fest. They did the requisite homework and convinced the management with their hard work and determination and organized Agam 2010 that too successfully.

All of us have a cause inside us. Some may feel bad for the poor children who are not fortunate enough to go to schools, rather that cursing the government they themselves can take up the charge of teaching them at home. You don’t need to take up the responsibility of 1.3 million destitute of India, teach 2-3 of them that will make the difference. If you feel the heat of corruption, make sure you never give that extra currency notes to make your job done at your will or you may complain to organizations like lokayukta as well. If you hate the concept of quotas-make sure you never demand for any kind of quota anywhere in your life. If you feel sad for inter-caste or inter-community or even inter-religious issues take a one step-making a friend from that community is one of them-to make the change. There is so many resources available in todays world-social networking sites, sms, blog... just share your concern.

I would wind up with the words of wisdom that Justice Hegde gave me:

“I want you to tell you two things. One if you really want to see the change the first thing that you need to have is lot of patience. The change that you want to see may take 5 years or 25 years. Persevere. Two we, in this world, are a part of a rat race, where every single individual wants to outshine the other. If you try and get up the ladder, there will always be more than 100 hands to pull you down. Today everyone wants power, money and fame. So to make sure you do not fall into that trap you need to be self content with whatever you have. That doesn’t mean don’t set goals, you must set high goals and achieve it with passion and not with a hungry madness. But make sure you are the change because it is each one of yours collective effort that will bring the change.

I, PL

It had been a long time since I wrote my last article on mool-dhara and there wasn’t any exciting news around that would have made me jump on my seat. But the recent Tharoor-Modi spat or rather Modi-Tharoor spat (or else Lalit Modi will sue me for defamation) gave me just the right spark that was much needed to write an article. This season Indian Premier League is not about cricket (actually it has never been about cricket), not about the hot bollywood stars, no more about cheerleaders as well. It’s about a threat to the sole heirship of the world’s fastest growing league. There is a danger to the "one man show idea" of the Great Indian League.
Every year since its inception, IPL or rather DLF IPL (after all DLF has paid 200 crores for being the title sponsors of the tournament for 5 years) have had some or the other controversial issue surrounding it during the course of one month when the greatest festival of Indian cricket is celebrated once a year. In the first season it was the cheerleaders and the huge amount of money involved on one crazy idea and also the ICL. While the second season had the fake KKR player episode, or even the clashing of the tournament with the general assembly elections of the nation! But there has been one man who has been a undefeated napoleon in this journey-He came, he saw, he conquered. That’s Lalit Kumar Modi for you. He has fought such apprehensions about IPL bravely to an extent that he went on to take on the Home Minister of India, who humbly requested him to postpone the tournament by a week last year in the view of elections that were to be held in the country. In reply the Great Man took the entire tournament out of the country but he did not compromise.

Lalit Kumar Modi was born in a wealthy and a successful business family. His father is the chairman of Rs 40 billion business empires that was founded by his grandfather Raj Bahadur Gujarmal Modi (and for those who don’t know Modi Nagar is also founded by their family). He is not only the chairman and commissioner of of Indian Premier League, he is the chairman of Champions League, vice president of Board of Cricket Control for India (BCCI), Vice president of Punjab Cricket Association and also the president and managing director of Modi Enterprise; that speaks volumes about his managing skills, no wonder he can sell two new franchisees of 3 a years old cricket league for a staggering Rs 3250 crores and run a Rs 15000 crores DLF IPL while tweeting on his blackberry!!!

His vision changed the way the whole world looks at cricket. Now the organizing committee of Olympics is also thinking of including cricket in their list of sports. His idea of bringing together two biggest source of entertainment in India-Cricket and Bollywood-on the same platter is selling like hot cakes. As popularly believed, the idea of league cricket wasn’t his own idea, Essel owned Indian Cricket League had conceptualized this whole idea first. But as they say there is nothing right and wrong, there is only power and power was on Modi’s side. So when he started 'his own' league (IPL), he made sure ICL never gets recognition from the International Cricket Council(ICC), the players who play for the rebel league are never allowed to play even domestic Ranji matches, and no major cricket grounds of India were made available to host ICL matches. As a result, ICL could not gather the sponsorship and failed to take wings even before it could come out of its cocoon. But three years down the line, who cares; after all no one asks Bill Gates if he copies everything from Mac.

A convict for possessing drugs and charged with assault and kidnapping, Lalit Modi has made the $4 billion game in his favor in such a suave manner that today the soul of IPL is Lalit Modi. He is the epicenter. He favored his own party members to make IPL remain his empire.

• Emerging media, the owners of Rajasthan Royals were favored in the auction despite of the fact that Anil Dhirubhai Ambani Group also bid for the same team. Emerging media is backed by Lalit Modi’s brother-in-law Suresh Chellaram.

• Mohit Burman the co-owner of King’s XI Punjab is also the brother of Modi’s son-in-law.

• Also the global cricket ventures which own the digital and mobile rights for IPL till 2017 belongs to Lalit Modi’s step son-in-law.

Then one day another lion ventured in the IPL jungle, a lion (Shashi Tharoor) who was an eligible candidate for the most high profile job of the world, secretary general of United Nations. So when this “twittering” lion gate-crashed into the IPL jungle, which already had a dominating lion of its own, clash of the two lions was inevitable. And the real owner of the jungle (Lalit Modi) would pull all means to make sure the new lion cannot outwit him. Consequently Lalit Modi is trying all his tricks, even going to the extent of scratching his paws on the rebel female lioness (allegedly). So what if the taxmen are tightening their noose about Modi, he will make sure he will take down Tharoor(and his alleged lioness) along with him. But he will not let anyone else rule his territory.

People might call IPL as India Proxy League, Indian Potboiler League, Intrigue Premier League, Indian Paisa League but for Lalit Modi it’s all about the pronoun 'I' in it because from day one of its inception, Modi has been handling all the things unilaterally. And business routes and decisions taken by him are the ones that have satisfied him the most monetarily. After all he is the real business of the league. He is behind the recipe of the dish that has spell bounded the Indian and the world audiences alike-money+political power+glamour+dancing girls and cricket (Yes cricket comes in the end!!!). After all he “modi”fied the game of cricket for us.

Who was responsible?

Episode 3

It was my third day at that police station; it was the third day since Gujrat was burning. It was the third day since Pratiksha was missing.

I was hopping from one police station to other to find any evidence of hers.

Of the 60 bodies found inside the train, 12 were so badly burnt that they could not be recognized. My parents and I just hoped that some miracle must have happened and Pratiksha would have got out of the train on time. On the 4^th day an inspector called me up, he had found Pratiksha’s body.

The streets of Ahmedabad wore a deserted look. People came out of their houses only for purchasing things of daily needs, that too in the early morning hours, before sunrise. Both Hindus and Muslims were on a killing spree. Dead bodies lay on the road unnoticed. As I reached the Old City police station, I saw many dead bodies thrown in the courtyard like the unused furniture. Flies and mosquitoes were all over it

There were many families crying over the dead bodies of their son, daughter, husband, father, or even their baby. Their loud voices shook me from my center of gravity. I felt a vibration inside.

I started moving into the courtyard and as I passed through the dead bodies my senses began going off. The voices of ladies crying slowly began to fade out off my ears. I felt weightless. Tears rolled out of my eyes. My hands got wet. I saw a small baby burnt to black. A lady with her clothes torn, exposing her private parts with scratches all over her body as if a wild animal had pounced upon her. While she lay there, her four small children tried to make their mother wake up. There was a body with no head over it, he wore a “Hare Ram, Hare Krishna” kurta. There were all kinds of bodies-men, women, burnt, stabbed, with head, headless, completely bathe in blood, one of the male’s dead body had its penis cut out. There were Hindu families and there were Muslim families crying over the dead body and then there was the body of Pratiksha. Her face was bruised and her clothes torn.

Seeing her dead body did not move me much, may be because the shock of seeing the earlier dead bodies, was yet to go down my throat. Not even a drop of tear fell from my eyes seeing my own sister seeing in that condition. I messaged my father. He didn’t reply.

I went to the inspector and asked him politely ‘Where was my sister found?’

‘Harish chai levi ne aao ’ he shouted at hawaldar instead of answering to my question.

Then he looked at me and said, ‘Take this body as fast as possible, it stinks!’

‘How will I take it now? I don’t have any vehicle with me. I will come tomorrow with my uncle and take it’ I said it in a low voice, that could be hardly audible.

I started moving towards the door when the inspector stopped me by blocking my way. He stared at me with a wicked smile. I didn’t know what it mean. I changed my path. He again came in my way. With his eyes, he asked me to look down. He was rubbing his right thumb with his index finger. He wanted his remuneration.

I took out my wallet from the back pocket of my denims. He snatched it from me and he took out all the money inside. Then he opened the coin pocket of my wallet, he didn’t even spared the coins. He saw the photograph of Aaliya in my wallet and gave the same wicked smile to me. He returned me my wallet and went back to his table. His tea had arrived. He sat on the chair, with his legs resting on the table.

As I walked on the lonely streets of the Ahmedabad the images of the dead bodies flashed in front of me again and again. My senses weren’t working and even the tears had frozen now.

Suddenly I heard a noise of small children playing. I looked around there was no one around. Then towards the left, I noticed a tin gate slightly open. I could see some movement inside. I went closer and peeped through the opening. 4-5 children were playing. A minute later a lady in burqa came and slapped two of them who were making maximum noise. She noticed the tin gate was slightly open. She came and closed it properly. There was no more sound after that.

I began walking towards my home again. I had barely walked some hundred meters when I saw three scooters carrying three men each, each of them carrying a shinning silver sword and wearing a piece of orange cloth around their neck. They charged on me.

‘I am a Hindu’ I objected and tried to defend myself against their swords.

But they still continued to attempt an attack on me.

‘Believe me I am a Hindu…. See…. See…. I am a Hindu’. I removed my jeans and the underwear beneath it before their swords could tear me apart. My presence of mind worked in my favor. My act helped cool down their temper. They left me.

‘Go back home or else these mother fuckers won’t spare you’ said one of them.

I lay on the middle of the road half naked and wept. Everything was so good just a week back. I was so excited to meet my sister after one whole year. Now everything had changed. My sister was dead; my parents in Delhi were in shock and Aaliya…. I didn’t even know where she was? It had been 3 days since her phone was switched off. I knew where she resided in Ahmedabad but I couldn’t go to her house. I kept crying. All of a sudden images of Pratiksha started coming in front of my eyes. I began visualizing what must have happened to her– the burning train, she trying to find a safe place, she running away from the Muslim mob, some Muslim men catching her, misbehaving with her, beating her as she resisted…. My blood started boiling. There was a sense of revenge that began crowding my mind.

‘Listen! I know some Muslims hiding in this area’ I shouted at the same group of men, who came in the scooters with swords. They were now smoking beedi at some distance. One of them came close to me and bent forward on me while I still lay on the ground.

‘Where are those Pakistanis?’ he appeared as a hungry animal which has found it’s pray.

‘Behind that tin gate.’

*******

Next morning I was sitting with Mr. Patel and was watching an English news channel. Mr. Patel was my PG owner’s brother. I was staying with him from the past 4 day in Ahmedabad.

25 MUSLIMS DIED IN THE OLD CITY AREA, 15 CHILDRENS AMONGST THEM

This was the news on every news channel. 25 Muslims- 15 children, 5 women, and 5 men were all slaughtered to death. They repeatedly showed the same tin gate and the dead bodies (censored) that were lying in the same court yard where the small children were playing yesterday.

This incident started a new wave in the riots. For Muslims, they were hurt and lowered their spirits. While for the Hindu fanatics this was the booster. They got an upper hand in this one-on-one competition with Muslims. They now searched every door and window to remove every trace of Muslim blood. They were like mad dogs.

One day later came the news that shattered my world forever. They had put Zehra Manzil– a seven floor apartment, in the Thaltaj area of Ahmedabad that housed 14 upper class Muslim families-on fire. And they did it at 1 in the night while everyone was sleeping. Aaliya and her family stayed on the 3^rd floor of that building.

It is a common knowledge amongst the people that this incident was only a repel affect of the incident at the Old City area that gave so much muscles to Hindus, that they put an entire apartment, in the heart of Ahmedabad city, on fire.

But who was actually responsible for the deaths of so many people in Gujrat? My life revolves around “what ifs“ these day. What if I had not told those men that some Muslims were hiding there? What if I had not insisted my mother to send Pratiksha to Ahmedabad? I often blame myself for this entire episode. Was I responsible for the deaths of so many people in Gujrat?

People died from both side-Hindus and Muslims. It was a fault of both of them. It’s the hatred that took the lives of so many people. I too became a victim of that hatred. I still have that last message that Aaliya sent me where she wrote ‘Riots hv broken out btw muslims n non-muslims’. She never mentioned my religion’s name-Hindus. Rather she chose to tag her religion’s name with this negative event. She didn’t want to hurt me and our beautiful relationship of love. But I returned the favor with hatred.

There was an eye for an eye every time. Hindus abducted a Muslim woman. Muslims set the train on fire and killed so many children and women. Hindus burnt the mosque. Muslims killed some more Hindus. Hindus reiterated back…. It will always go on like that. Someone has to put a full stop. Someone has to forget and forgive. Someone has to take the initiative of peace. Or else on the land of Mahatma, this hunger of revenge will never end. And this can be done by the initiative of every individual and his/her respective religion. Because religion is both the cause of the problem and the solution.

As for me, I know lord only gives a person a burden he is strong enough to handle and the burden must fall somewhere in this world and when they fall on you it is not just a test but a symbol that life knows that you have the strength to endure them.