One Evening at Raisina Hill

[Disclaimer: This is a detailed account of a personal experience, and may contain minute details uninteresting to you.]

After witnessing the outrage over Twitter against the heinous incident of rape and attempted murder in the capital city of India, I found myself to be in the same place for 4 days. I could not loose this opportunity to witness, participate, and engage in one of the largest spontaneous uprisings of young boys and girls that I can remember. So there I was, walking out of Central Secretriat Metro Stn at 6pm on Saturday, observing the various shades of Indian youth trying to assert themselves.

While I moved towards Rajpath, I saw one young agitated guy trying to damage an already fallen police barricade, and running came another one (his friend, possibly) stopping him furiously, and asking him whether he is here to damage public property or demand justice and safety of women. A smile appeared on my face, as I saw a small but significant example of self-correction and self-restraint. The barricade was lifted and put on side of the road, and I moved ahead.

As I walked towards Vijay Chowk, the centre of all action and attention, I saw many small groups of young boys and girls - the same ones, I guess, who you can see hanging out at CCDs and McDonald's - raising slogans at their own pitch and pace. What united them was the call for exemplary punishment to the rapists and a safer Delhi for its daughters and sisters. With time, more people trickled in and the small groups merged into a larger one - sitting peacefully on the cold surface - some had candles in their hands, some had banners, while some like me were empty-handed contributing just by voice and actions.

Moving further ahead towards the aisles of power that be (Rashtrapati Bhawan, North Block and South Block), I heard small circles of protesters giving heated statements to media personnel - some of which made sense to me, while some didn't. As I moved closer, I was stopped by a group of policemen. Showing that I was unarmed and meant no harm, I was allowed to walk around. And I was standing in front of the last barricade - separating the two Indias - young, energetic protesters on one side, and battalions of police and paramilitary forces with heavy bundobast of water canons, anti-riot brigades, tear shells & guns on other side protecting the seats of power. Shouts of "Sheila Dixt Haye Haye" were suppressed spontaneously, and were replaced with slogans of "We Want Justice".

Amid all this, everybody heard some sort of "Akashvani" - the summary of Home Minister's press conference was being read out by ACP Mr. D C Shrivastav, further asking that the protesters should end the protest since their demands have been listened to. A few girls also joined from top of police van, saying that they were randomly selected from the protesting crowd to meet the Home Minister, and were asked to convey his message to the public. The public lost its calm and asked aggressively why Home Minister could not come to address the public himself - genuine question in my opinion, "Why do our leaders and representatives need messengers to interact with aggrieved citizens, and expect us to feel satisfied with it?" They must be really afraid - I thought.

I joined a group of young men talking to ACP D C Shrivastav about the status of investigation in this particular case - DNA tests, identification parade, medical reports - and that law would take its "due course". Everything looked calm and quiet, until a rogue element started hurling abuses at the ACP. The ACP called upon to catch hold of the person, which the police force took as a signal to jump the barricades and beat the protesters - even those peacefully sitting. I saw policemen hitting out at mediapersons' cameras and pulling out their wires as they captured their faces. I stood there amazed at what just happened in a matter of few seconds.

I was pushed away by 2-3 constables to go back home and not come back, as the protests are over. I started walking slowly, but the constables were not satisfied with my unafraid demeanor and I received a blow of the cane on my legs asking me to run away. I turned and shouted at them angrily. I was joined by some others, and within next few minutes, the police was back behind the barricades and the protesters were back to the same spot. We identified the policeman who beat me, and asked for his identity. The "fattu" man hung his head in shame and ran behind the wall of his fellow policemen not to be seen again. The crowd became agitated asking for the reasons of the sudden crackdown. The slogans turned from being anti-rape to anti-tyranny. Most policemen claimed innocence saying that their baton has not hit one single innocent person throughout the day. What chameleons - I thought!

With time, the protesters regrouped and situation became normal. With increasing cold at 10pm, only some highly determined ones held ground while others started moving back. The police contingents also started dispersing with orders to report back at 6am the next day. Things attained normalcy in some time and while I walked back to Metro Stn, agitated and tormented inside at the state of the nation, wondering what kind of crippled democracy India has become, whether this is just a low in the story of India and whether the Indian youth will fight back for a brighter future. Only time will tell.

Dharnas Undemocratic?

I find the terming of picketing of MPs houses and offices across the nation as undemocratic to be grossly misconceived. While the critics propose democratic process as the solution to this problem, they seem to have forgotten the basic premise of representative democracy. If our honuorable Members of Parliament, as representatives of the people, had reached out to the people of their respective constituency to recognise the popular view on this crucial issue of Lokpal, this act of 'dharnas' in front of MPs would have been unnecessary. Just because of the growing disconnect of the representatives from the people, such acts become necessary to ascertain the mood of people who they most proudly claim to represent. In general, the people's representatives must stop toeing the lines of party "high command" blindly and give voice to the people's will in their respective constituencies even if it doesn't conform to the party thinking, as is observed in other mature democracies like US.

Letter to Editor (The Hindu)

I wrote a letter to the Editor of The Hindu today. I don't know whether somebody in the editorial team of The Hindu will read it or not. Reproducing the letter here nonetheless.

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Sir,

This is with reference to the recent "Lead" articles published in The Hindu on 23rd and 24th Aug, 2011. Not only do I not agree with the analysis and arguments presented in the articles, but also I find these articles to be based on incomplete information.

Ms. Arundhati Roy's article "I'd rather not be Anna" has been refuted based on facts in the following article (not written by me):

http://clearvisor.wordpress.com/2011/08/23/why-i’d-rather-be-anna-than-arundhati/

I hope you would find the arguments in the above blog substantive and would give ample space to its fact-based analysis in your esteemed publication, so that the large readership, which your newspaper enjoys, does not remain misinformed.

Mr. Prabhat Patnaik's article "Messianism versus Democracy" is theoretically sound but makes grossly mistaken observations about the happenings at Ramlila Maidan. He claims that the "occasion is not used to enlighten the gathering" about "the differences between the Government's Lokpal Bill and the Jan Lokpal Bill". Nothing could be further from the truth, as not only the stage of Ramlila Maidan is used to educate the masses of the differences in provisions of both the bills, members of 'India against Corruption' movement have used print media (The Hindu also, at times), the electronic media, social networking (Facebook, Twitter, Youtube) and even printed pamphalets distributed to doorsteps by volunteers to explain their suggestions to a large section of the society. On the contrary, the 'democratically' elected government has not attempted to defend the provisions of its own bill by any such means and even on the floor of the Parliament. Apart from that, the stage of Ramlila Maidan is used to immediately impress upon the masses about the progress of dialogue with the Government, while the Government's representatives continue to make muffled statements about their stand on contentious issues.

The Hindu, particularly its editorial page, has a large number of followers which is respected for its non-partisan views on the matters of concern to the nation and the world. Due to the prestige associated with The Hindu, the articles published almost decisively transform public opinion on various issues. Therefore, I would like to request the editorial team of The Hindu to publish the articles only after adequate verification for factual correctness, and not based on just the esteem of the author. I am not advocating that various perspectives of an issue should not be brought into public knowledge, but the arguments in any debate must be based on truth and authentic facts, not misinformation or inadequate information.

I sincerely hope that The Hindu will continue to function as a responsible media house bringing quality news to its readers, and take corrective measures to prevent the few aberrations such as the ones pointed out above.

With best regards,

Vikas Prajapati

Dual Degree Student,

Dept of Computer Science and Engineering,

Indian Institute of Technology Delhi,

Hauz Khas, New Delhi - 16

Rang De Basanti

An epic movie with extra-ordinary direction, acting, songs, background music - simply everything. But technicalities apart, there are some unforgettable lines throughout the movie bursting with patriotic and nationalist feelings, which keep me pumped up. Recounting some of them here.

"अब भी जिसका खून न खौला, खून नहीं वो पानी है

जो देश के काम न आये, वो बेकार जवानी है."

"I always believed there were two kinds of men in this world, men who go to their deaths screaming, and men who go to their deaths in silence. Then I met a third kind."

"कोई भी देश perfect नहीं होता, उसे perfect बनाना पड़ता है. पुलिस में भर्ती होंगे, military join करेंगे, IAS बनेंगे, politics का हिस्सा बनकर इस देश की सरकार चलाएंगे. ये देश बदलेगा, हम बदलेंगे इसे."

"जिंदगी जीने के दो ही तरीके होते हैं. एक - जो हो रहा है, होने दो; बर्दाश्त करते जाओ. या फिर, ज़िम्मेदारी उठाओ उसे बदलने की."

So, in case someone has given up on India feeling that the future is dark, stop and think again; for each one of us can make a difference, and together we can do a lot more.

Signing off with a poem, every line of which is a quote in itself:

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ू-ए-क़ातिल में है।

ऐ वतन, करता नहीं क्यूँ दूसरी कुछ बातचीत,
देखता हूँ मैं जिसे वो चुप तेरी महफ़िल में है

ऐ शहीद-ए-मुल्क-ओ-मिल्लत, मैं तेरे ऊपर निसार,
अब तेरी हिम्मत का चरचा ग़ैर की महफ़िल में है

वक़्त आने पर बता देंगे तुझे, ए आसमान,
हम अभी से क्या बताएँ क्या हमारे दिल में है,

खेँच कर लाई है सब को क़त्ल होने की उमीद,
आशिकों का आज जमघट कूचा-ए-क़ातिल में है

है लिए हथियार दुश्मन ताक में बैठा उधर,
और हम तैयार हैं सीना लिए अपना इधर।

ख़ून से खेलेंगे होली अगर वतन मुश्क़िल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है।

हाथ, जिनमें है जूनून, कटते नही तलवार से,
सर जो उठ जाते हैं वो झुकते नहीं ललकार से।

और भड़केगा जो शोला सा हमारे दिल में है,
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है।

हम तो निकले ही थे घर से बाँधकर सर पर कफ़न,
जाँ हथेली पर लिए लो बढ चले हैं ये कदम।

ज़िंदगी तो अपनी मॆहमाँ मौत की महफ़िल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है।

यूँ खड़ा मक़्तल में क़ातिल कह रहा है बार-बार,
क्या तमन्ना-ए-शहादत भी किसी के दिल में है?

दिल में तूफ़ानों की टोली और नसों में इन्कलाब,
होश दुश्मन के उड़ा देंगे हमें रोको न आज।

दूर रह पाए जो हमसे दम कहाँ मंज़िल में है,
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है।

जिस्म वो क्या जिस्म है जिसमे न हो ख़ून-ए-जुनून
क्या लड़े तूफ़ान से जो कश्ती-ए-साहिल में है

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ू-ए-क़ातिल में है।

Sea of Inspiration

Here are the two most motivational poems I've come across, which induce exceptional positivism in me every time I read them.

Invictus

(William Ernest Henley)

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishment the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

If

(Rudyard Kipling)

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

If there are more poems with such inspirational impulse, please suggest some.