The following wonderful piece is imported from Abhijit Sahay, my cousin, who seems to have bypassed several stages before one would dream of maturing as a writer. The following lines from his pen wouls speak for itself. I find myself absolutely lost for words in expressing my genuine appreciation for the deep insight inherent therein.
Everything that’s wrong with India
The youths who have a viewpoint
“So a country was born in the year nineteen hundred and forty seven”. Addy sucked through what was left of the golden puff and coughed his lungs out. Clearing his throat he said;
I get that but what was going on in Nehru’s mind? What was he thinking?
With the poetic eloquence reminiscent of Jawaharlal Nehur he went on, “At the stroke of the mid night hour when the world sleeps, India awakes”.
I mean half of the world was awake if not less, the west you know, and I am sure most of Asia would have already begun their day of hard work. And look at the people,; they eulogize the speech as if it was a masterpiece.
Scorning at the way young minds have been conditioned en-masse, Addy struck the wall at his back with his fist.
“Well let me tell you, neither was the speech a masterpiece, nor was this guy the grandmaster”.
It’s true that history is written by people who are in power but thanks, I am a happier person going through the facts and raw data, and form my own opinions, and draw my own conclusions. Addy blew the shred of grass that remained glued on the tip of his tongue, and aimlessly stared at the soft night bulb of the room.
1947 a nation born
Bones broken and flesh torn
Hopes high promises tall
It’s all physics dude
What goes up must fall
That’s Bodhi and he was sitting in a dark corner of the room. It was the side effect of when he got high, which was every other day. He spoke poetry, and maybe it was not, or maybe it was, but mostly he articulated the feelings of the members of the gathering through his poetry. So I was never surprised if he weaved into his words a completely radically opposite idea, contradicting what he might have manifested into his poetry a moment ago.
He was our supplier of theatrics, our poetic commentator and the modulator, slightly short of being the master of ceremonies.
I am Adinath, and this frequent gathering takes place in a small room in a congested lane behind Kirorimal College or KMC as it is popularly known. The main attraction of my den is not the open discussion that takes place almost everyday here. That is in fact the after affect, the labour of love after the consummate affair with what I grow in a secret room lined up with LED lights. The best marijuana in Delhi is grown here and is available only to a select coterie of three people including me who have taken an oath in the name of god.
“We take a solemn oath that we would forever abide by the sole objective of the group, to stone everything bad because there’s nothing good left, and be stoned, for that’s the only cocoon that can protect and let us be.”
We were all anti establishment for all that it had become, and belonged to a group with like aspirations and the congruence of alienation that most of the people like us are experiencing in this country.
With a government that is completely out of sync and has not been able to evolve itself with the changing times, and better the bad and uplift the worse, what else one could expect.
Yes, we are the oxymoron, who possess the stuff and get possessed by it, and there lies the beauty of it. When we get possessed, we leave the realm of self aggrandizement, and transcend ourselves to the occult of an India, as dreamt by its largely ignored people, or maybe the first lot of thoroughbred politicians.
Bodhi was rolling the OCB paper for yet anotherl light round of blissful oblivion that each puff would take us with its rising smoke, leaving behind the odour which identifies the state of mind. With Jim Morrison faintly playing in the background, we were three youths in this senseless world, smoking grass as their getaway, and bringing order to the chaos. One could not ask for more.
Carefully licking one edge of the thin paper and then rolling between his fingers, Bodhi was working on his yet another piece of art.
“What the government says, and what it does. What it hs been directed to do, and the manner in which it should be done is full of contradictions”.
Bodhi was speaking his mind. The OCB paper rolling between his fingers was an involuntary activity for him, just like breathing.
They say the government is by the people, for the people, and of the people. And I don’t simply get it. Bodhi kept the paper aside carefully tucking it between the pages of his first edition of “Freedom at Midnight”.
How can you say that it’s a government “by the people, for the people and of the people”?
How can it be “by the people” if each and everthing is doctored and directed in such a manner that it only upholds the letter of the law and not the spirit?
Bodhi looked at me, distraught and disoriented. I kept looking at him, reiterating my undivided attention to say what he had to, and assuring him that we can completely comprehend what he had to say.
I mean what good can I choose for myself if the choices are so limited? How can I choose a government from a basket of fruits, all different but all rotten or pickled at best? Do we get the fresh pickings of the season anyways?
And then it becomes our choice, and our government.
Exactly! I surmised.
Bodhi smiled, relieved that whatever he had said, made sense. He knew that he was touching upon a complicated topic and had to tread the thin dotted line carefully. He continued with caution.
And how can you say that this government is for the people if the only definition for people in their human commodity accounts are the farmers and the villagers? How can they say it’s for the people if all their policies are designed to favor only the rich and the poor? I doubt if we figure in their to do list. Well I have news for you, we do figure in that list and reads “ignore the intelligetsia”.
No, I don’t think I am just blabbering out of my wits. Bodhi gesticulated to Addy who didn’t like this pseudo statement.
I have my reasons to say this, and my hypothesis has been confirmed.
First, I was named as “civil society”. I refute this because I am “the society” who knows everthing. The government is run by a bunch of high handed politicians for whom politics has become a large organized business. A business that grants them complete autonomy, and abnormal profits with no accountability. The “aam aadmi” or the gullible populace will never be taken to the “Promised Land” that has been shown to them by each and every government since independence.
I am one and it is only me and people like me who have been able to unravel the big lie. A lie that has been fashioned in the form of countless yojanas and policies. And it’s because of this I am ignored. It’s because I am not ignorant. I am fully informed and equipped to differentiate between the right and the wrong. I have the power to read between the lines and question the devil in the details. It is you and me who will never be looked after or cared for in this country.
And they deliberately call us the “civil society”. Why? We are conditioned to behave in a civil manner only. You know, um, take your decision when the next election comes. You obviously don’t count; the “aam admi” is going to decide for us anyways.
The marijuana was ready, and Bodhi passed it to Addy to light it. It was his turn to negotiate his culpable existence highlighted by intellectual brainstorming and marked by social inactivity.
Addy took the rolled up OCB paper which looked like the barrell of a Webly Scott, all loaded and powered up. He took the marijuana with great reverence, touched it to his forehead and lighted up the match, smoking the first puff and exhaling a dense cloud of his rhyming pearls of wisdom. Taking one more deep puff and another dense burst of smoke, he closed his eyes and started to rhyme.
On paper a democratic country.
In idea a socialist country.
In talks a secular country.
By the people,
For the people, and
Of the people,
In reality,
Monarchy by way of political dynasty.
Socialism in the form of capital advocacy, and
Neck deep in secular shenanigans
In triviality
Not By, For, and Of, but
Who the people?
What Country?
There was a loud cheer in the room as soon as Addy had finished. Bodhi had conjured up a strong and perhaps the best one we had smoked in a long time. The atmosphere was gloomy now, with no hope in sight. What sort of constructive deconstruction was going on? For how long we must be the mute spectators? For how long we should raise our voices to a government which is deaf by choice? For how long should we listen to carefully drafted bureaucratic responses to our conerns? And for how long we should tolerate this man who speaks only the language of the office and is too shy to connect with the hearts of the people and speak their language or at least speak for them? These were the questions coming to our mind, and the stagnant situation bordering the mundane had frustrated us.
The moment was long and the silence had become too strong. I forced myself into the realm. I knew the contradictions that we were facing.
You know, I understand why there’s so much wrong in this country and nothing seems to be working.
Just take a look at the preamble to the constitution and I hope that you still remember from the civics classes we had back in our school.
Bodhi got into action and said in a deep baritone:
“WE, THE PEOPLE OF INDIA, having solemnly resolved to constitute India into a SOVEREIGN SOCIALIST SECULAR DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC and to secure to all its citizens:
JUSTICE, social, economic and political;
LIBERTY, of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;
EQUALITY of status and of opportunity;
and to promote among them all
FRATERNTIY assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity and integrity of the Nation;
IN OUR CONSTITUENT ASSEMBLY this twenty-sixth day of November, 1949, DO HEREBY ADOPT, ENACT AND GIVE TO OURSELVES THIS CONSTITUTION”
Thanks for lighting up our memory Bodhi, Addy said in a bit irritating tone. He had a habit to take things just a little too peronally.
Friends, I imagined a dais in front of me, and stood up to speak, swaying hte strong wind, just the kind you feel when you are stoned.
Take a hard look and etch this in your memory for it is the need of the hour to restore this preamble to the constituion of India. Everything that you read her, ever single line is in a state of contradiction today.
To begin with “We the people” has already been characterized by “Who the People?” by my dear friend, Bodhi.
There’s no Justice, for we don’t have a sound judicial system yet with million of court cases pending. For what I remember justice delayed is justice denied, so there’s not question of justice, leave alone of the nature defined in this preamble.
Liberty, there are a number of secular groups funded by political parties who only promote radicalism in the name of secularism, so you can kiss your liberty good bye.
Equality of status and opportunity, kiss my butt. The economic dichotomy of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer has widened further. The richer millionaires have become billionaires, and you know if you make thirty six rupees in a day, on paper you are not poor anymore. There goes the letter of the preamble and right there blown away in the smoke is the spirit of it.
Addy, and Bodhi were laughing uncontrollably now and we all said in chorus, “Fraternity — dignity of an individual…yeah right”.
The marijuana was taking over but I had my reasoning to make.
Do you know what is the reason for this molestation is? Why it has come to this?
We became free only to be ruled by the political class for decades.
The heirs of the political dynasty that has captured the prime benches of the parliament. It’s this entire dynastic culture that has orphaned us of what we should have been having now.
There’s no leader in this country who connects with the people and who speaks for them. They come from a political lineage and have been conditioned with the ways of the select few who take decisions for us. They have been fashioned and filed. Consider them as carrying on the legacy of their dead fathers and forefathers. They cannot idenitfy with the “I” of innovation, improvisation, and improvement. This nation needs a new breed of leaders who don’t know about politics as it has been taught by rote to the current political heirs. This nation needs leaders who have unlearned to think out of box. This nation needs leaders who can truly practice and achieve the objectives that this preamble lays out for us. Only then we will be able to achieve what we set ouf for at the first place.
There was an air of excitement in the room. Sloshed by the liquor of doom and liberated by the grass of hope, we were overwhelmed and exhausted. It was time for the gathering to disperse and wake up to a hard reality the next morning.
I woke up the next morning, with a rough throat and went to the balcony for a hot gargle. As I spit out the first mouthful of gargled water, my mind was crunching numbers trying to compute a statistical analysis.
How many people think the same way as the three of us do?
Perhaps they don’t score every night as we do. Do you?