Newly Found

Very frankly put I had thought that I would write this piece over last weekend. And then I found it too lethargic to do the same. Over this week, a number of things have happened which might have made me loose interest or inspiration in what I wrote but the essential undertone remains the same.

Every citizen of this country believes that to tide over one watershed event, there are two sure shot antidotes – okay no make it three. A screen appearance by Shahrukh Khan, a cricketing demolition act by Sachin Tendulkar or another watershed event of such enormity or texture that you forget the previous one. Well India got the first two over the last two weeks and I in particular got a taste of all three. But the time and background the following event is set, we just had one. The first.

I had enough of this threadbare terror saga for the weekend. Come on you cannot belittle my contributions to this battle against terror, which many media razzmatazz terms as Enough is enough. I have signed eleven petitions, have lit seven and half candles and read close to hundred and thirty five articles and blogs. I have jostled for space with well perfumed, petite females at the Gateway crying hoarse that Pakistanis and the politicians are plain jane thieves. I have read each and every solidarity message for our martyrs, checked Sandeep Unnikrishnan’s profile on Orkut, raked my brains, over whether ATS chief Karkare was astutely made to pay the price by a conniving conspiracy or whether the Keralite Left was indeed bovine in his mannerisms. I have pledged to go to the Oberois when it opens for business on 21 December, drank a pint at the Leopold, voiced opinions at all and every forums, read verses igniting courage and fortitude by ad gurus, vociferously argued whether the media had imbibed professionalism or prudence in reporting tactical counter insurgency moves, enlisted love and hate Barkha Dutt forums and tried to associate myself with as many person living or dead victimized by the situation as well as boarded the local train to the VT station the very next day just to prove myself that I have not given in. So? Havent I done enough?

Need I prove more? How essential is it to always be the harbinger, the leader, aspiring to be the usher of something new. Everyone simply cant be the change. And to that effect, I thought, let us give it some rest. Take a break and lets try to catch up with the rest of the world. For a start lets see what masterpiece the duo of Aditya Chopra and SRK has concocted after eight long years. The hype leading up to the point I reached the ticketing window and saw that the tickets to the immediate shows were completely exhausted is material enough for another blog. Tickets collected for the show, I did what most people at such multiplexes generally do, head for the nearest Mcdonalds for some unadulterated session of whiling time at an affordable rate and get some nourishment smattered in for free.

Winding in through sand bags with sub machine gun toting security personnels, multiple body checks, baggage checks, queries about coins and keys being potential detonating devices, enquiries about why one should enter into a multiplex an hour and thirty seven minutes and eleven… ten… nine seconds before a show, I could finally ensconce myself at a veritable corner of the store and soon found myself engrossed in thought – of impending job losses, of thoughts of where and how could I find myself dead, on a busy platform, or on a thematic cuisine based restaurant or at the pretext of being a north Indian in Mumbai.

It is then that I felt a gentle tug at the knees of my trousers. I looked down to find a toddler, may be all of two years of existence on this planet, with a bunch of the national flag in his hand. He looked up innocently with saliva trickling down the side of his little lips. I looked around, thinking he might just have been estranged from his family – a worried parent might be looking around. There was none. I gently picked him up and seated him on my lap. He cringed his brow, with his ego hurt and carefully took out one flag from the bunch and placed it on my shirt pocket, right where my heart should be. I did not resist. Then he looked up gave another of his beaming smiles and in an un-imitable gargoyle said, “Do not be afraid. Your country is there for you.” Strong, simple and matter of fact.

I was numb, my hands cold, my forehead perspiring and for a moment I thought I might lose my grip on him. With some effort I asked him how had he learnt this? Was it his dad, his mom, his maid, his elder siblings? That was a question below his dignity to answer and at one point of time, I thought, it was seriously nano - ing his efforts; this could just be that one statement that changes the face of this nation.

At that point of time he became restless and wriggled out of my lap. I placed him right on the floor and he gave back another sparkling smile again and toddled away to another table to clasp at another trouser to tug at.

Painstakingly, he went to each and every table and even to the vending counters. To everyone he said the same thing. Bold and without fear. Come to think of it, some of the simplest statements are always the hardest to articulate. Contrived minds bring about twisted meanings. But then, our natural response to the child should have been, ok kid, nice gesture, but you really do not understand what this country has been through. You do not realize, that if your dad goes out for office tomorrow, whether he will ever come back to rock you. But then no one did. Its like when you were a kid yourself and amidst rattling thunder and lightning, you ran to your mother who just embraced you to her bosom and said do not worry, am I not there? And you never questioned that, never tried to rationalize, if a lightning really fell, how would your mom single handedly fight it?

So, some hugged him. Some looked at him. With clenched admiration, renewed resolve and swelling pride – something 62 hours of live television had sapped away, something the political insignia failed to infuse in the wake of a response to a scathing molestation of democracy right at the crossroads – people tried hard to build in and crystallize their belief, a treasure shattered. With his assignment at the outlet complete, he gave his reassuring platinum smile yet again and disappeared through the door in his signature toddle style.

As I came out of the store and headed for the movie, I did not notice any human body around not sporting an Indian flag on his or her chest. May be it could be a well directed marketing gimmick, may be it was an infant’s prank, may be it was a pilot run to understand the comprehension and implementation skill of the infant, may be it could be anything. What remained was a galvanized sense of security and belief. That we could be safe with requisite effort. That we could not remain sordid, and assume that our safety is always someone else’s responsibilities. For a start I know my country is there for me. And when at the break, a sigh of collective relief found its words in a child’s shriek again, ‘popcorn!’ (what a critic’s review anyways) amidst dollops of laughter, I felt well, may be one medium tub of regular salted for me as well. A treat to myself for something I am trying to find again.

Pattering Patil

As promised, Contramental would strive to bring some smile to anyone it can, in these hours and hours to come. For today it is some of the sound bytes that our ex home minister, Shivraj Patil emanated during his tenure. Dont be mistaken, Mr Bush, you got stiff competition. (courtesy: The Economic Times, Mumbai Edition, 1 December, 2008)

“You want Afzal Guru to be hanged. (At the same time) you are saying that don’t hang a person who has gone to Pakistan (Singh)....These people (the BJP) want others to be hanged. What are you doing? You are saying don’t hang that person (Singh) and you say hang this person (Guru) here.” Mr Patil likening the mercy plea of Sarbjeet Singh, an Indian on the death row in Pakistan who New Delhi claims is a case of mistaken identity, with that of Mohammad Afzal, the Kashmiri terrorist convicted in Parliament attack case.

“We are ready for a meaningful intercourse with the terrorists.” Mr Patil soon after he took charge as the home minister.

“There are bits of information available with us (about the designs of terrorists)...what we do not have is the time and place of the attack.” Mr Patil in the wake of twin Hyderabad blasts in August 2007.

“The terrorists are trying to spread fear and terror among people across the country through their evil designs. We will not allow them to succeed in it.” Mr Patil soon after the September 13 blasts in Delhi, which were followed by the Assam blasts on October 30 and, now, the deadly Mumbai attacks.

“I will resign only when the Congress president Sonia Gandhi tells me to go.” Mr Patil reacting to the Opposition’s demand for his papers soon after the Delhi blasts. Incidentally, under the Constitution, a minister continues at the pleasure of the President, who is bound by the advice of the prime minister.

“Naxalism in India is presented by some in a manner which does not give the correct picture. On occasions, it is said that 10 states in India, nearly 180 districts, are affected. It means that one-third of the country is affected. If one village in a district is affected, it is treated that one district is affected. If one or two districts of a state are affected, it does not mean that all districts in the state are affected.” Mr Patil in his address to the annual DGP meet in November 2008...a day after, prime minister termed Naxalism the country’s biggest security challenge.

“The Government is not interested in using weapons. They (the Naxalites) are our brothers and sisters and we know that this is a socio-economic problem rather than one of law and order. We can solve these problems through dialogue and discussions.” Mr Patil in April 2005. When criticised during a discussion in the Rajya Sabha for sympathising with Red terror, he said there was “nothing wrong in calling those born in India as our brothers and sisters.”

“Main so gaya, main patte khel raha hoon, main daru peeke baitha hoon, main dance club jaata hoon toh aap mujhe dosh dijiye (Blame me if I am sleeping (on the job), playing cards, drinking and whiling away time and frequenting dance clubs).” Mr Patil, obviously irritated at his criticism in the media after he was seen in three different suits on the day of the Delhi serial blasts in September.

“Before I could reach there, the terrorists who had attacked one of the hospitals, the Cama Hospital, had left and those who attacked the railway station had also left.” Mr Patil, soon after visiting the Mumbai attack sites.