The Slap

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     'Who do you think you are?', Priya's angst-filled voice rang out loud and clear, 'How dare you hit me?'  It had all the tones of a soul suppressed. It was as if the dam of all seventeen years of mild obeisance and blind compliance had given way and all of a sudden, there was the emergence of a deluge of rage and discontent which lay hidden behind it..

     Priya had always thought that her only fault had been to be born in a society where the culture fraught with customs and stereotypes simply intended to keep the sexes away from each other and she unfortunately found herself on the side of the divide which was supposed to be satisfied on the insides of the four wall confines. It wasn't very easy for her, caught in between the pseudo-liberal carefree ideas that beckoned form the brash and unapologetic cities and the conservative steeped-in-tradition lives of the patriarchal villages. After all, what is a girl born in a developing city in India supposed to do? She knew that buying those denim shorts she wanted to wear would only draw the ire of her mother who in turn was afraid of the ire it would draw from her husband and the other men of the family, and she knew that wearing the customary three layers of heavy cloth would make her feel, in her mind, as though she hailed from a nigh-feudal period. Yet, for seventeen years, she delicately trod the tightrope, sacrificing much of what she sought with a smile on her face, simply content with losing herself in the works of Marquez, Adams and the like. And yet, when she heard of that dreamy Sufi-band coming to play in town, for once, if just once, she yearned to break free. She knew it would be plagued with boys, she knew it would not go unnoticed at home. She even knew that she would probably be told off severely by several elders in the family, but she cared not. She wanted to live life, and while all her 'friends' from facebook were going crazy with pictures and whatnot from concerts of all the star bands that had played in their cities, she did not see why she should be left behind. And thus, with stargazed eyes, she and a couple of friends, just as dreamy-eyed as her, made plans to get in and get out as silently as they could. It seemed all good until D-day when, as the band played, Priya was shaken out of her reverie to hear Kriti screaming at a bunch of boys standing behind her. And as she watched, much to her disbelief, she saw one of the guys reach out and place a hand on Kriti's waist, trying to drag her towards himself. It all seemed too surreal for Priya, the snake-like hissing of the boys, the wolfish stare in their eyes, the music being all but blotted out of her mind. And yet, she caught herself in time, as, realizing that there were policemen around, she began to scream for help at the top of her lungs. Kriti, who seemed too intent on yanking herself away from the pawing hands, finally gathered enough air to scream for help herself and was joined by Aditi, the final member of the trio. While the policemen came to their rescue, ensured their safety and returned them home with snide comments about staying where they belonged, only one thought flashed across Priya's mind. She had messed up. This was her one chance and she had messed up.

     As she braced herself and listened to all the rebukes being hurled at her, head held down, she felt an anger rise inside her. An anger attached to one single image.. a wolf clutching her friend while a whole pack looked on, hungrily. And as the image grew sharper in her mind, the helplessness she had felt for a moment came clawing back at her, stronger than every other emotion she felt. And when her father came around to telling her how it was foolish of her to have made herself a target, she wondered what she had ever done to appear as a feast for those ravenous wolves. As she struggled to fight the tears back, she found another angry voice grow inside her. This voice seemed to emanate from much deeper and reverberated through her soul. As it grew, she felt every particle of her being rise in revolt against what comments were being directed at her. And finally the moment came, when she could take it no more and she whispered, 'Dad, you were supposed to protect me and instead, you seem to think it right to throw me to the dogs, because i deserve to be raped..'  *slap* It seemed to touch a nerve as Priya stumbled for a moment, before all the anger and revulsion came back to her stronger than ever, and her angst-filled voice rang out loud and clear,  'Who do you think you are? How dare you hit me?'

Bloody 'ell!

It's not every day that you wake up coughing blood and follow it up with being stuck in a 2-hour traffic jam, thanks to the raucous supporters of Mr. Hazare and generous dollops of rain. And all the while you're stuck in the traffic, you keep thinking to yourself, is this really necessary? While the answer may vary over a gigantic range depending on who you are, in my mind there is only one. And it is a resounding, bombastic 'no!'
Now, before you hop in, label me a traitor, stretch my comments beyond imagination, rip it to shreds and make me 'mysteriously disappear' in a plane crash over Bangladesh, hear me out, won't you? My argument is simply this: The average IQ, EQ and decision making ability of the collective outburst-ers is not even in the same plane as that of the decision makers. That does not, in any way, insinuate that the greasy politicians sitting in parliament are smarter than the citizens of India. It simply means they are smarter than today's rebels. They are smarter than the people who run off to the freedom park, dumping their duties. They are smarter than the people who pay autos over-the-meter fare in doing so. They are more mature than the people who scream out loud on facebook about how 'awesome' the experience was. They are much better at handling situations than the people who create events in support of this scourge of civil society and certainly oodles smarter than those who click on every single page which says 'anna'. For it is a decision being made by dignified people who understand that handling a country is not as simple as being an adamant ol' coot and threatening to inflict self-harm unless demands are met.
Now, we've all seen shameless creeps trying to get popular over the past few weeks, be it by writing about Rahul Gandhi or by photoshopping other prominent leaders on to some kids holding each others' wieners. Funnily enough, the moron who wrote about how Rahul Gandhi is a college dropout did not bother to stop and worry about the broken English that they were writing in. So intent were they on their two minutes in the spotlight and pointing fingers or perhaps just acutely aware of the fact that it is sensationalism which sells in India. For all you great supporters of the "second freedom struggle", i have a few questions, apart from the usual have you never paid a bribe, etc. Answer them honestly, if you will and ask yourself again, is this really necessary?

• Every time you've called a person from the North-East a 'Chingi', have you realised that you're implying that the North-East states and its people rightfully belong to China?
  
  
• For every time you talk of corruption, would you say no to more money?
  
  
• Every time you have been accused of a mistake, right from stealing a toffee in school to messing up a project at work, have you or have you not pointed a finger at someone else?
  
  
• Every time you have seen a suave successful person, have you or have you not wanted to be in their shoes? And then realising it is impossible come up with reasons to pull them down, be it their blue blood, silver spoon or their nexus?
  
  
• Have you ever put in an extra day's work, free of cost, because it will help take India forward?
  
  
• If "all the money stashed away in overseas accounts were to come back to India", would you be happy if none of the prices or taxes were reduced and to let it all go towards the upliftment of the poor, development of the North-East & Kashmir, compensation to the farmers who have been forced to take up weapons and been branded naxalites?
  
  
• Would you be happy to pay increased taxes so that the government officials and police get a better salary and don't have to accept bribes to maintain their families?
  
  
• Most importantly, aren't you being a stupid tool by blindly joining rallies and protests while you couldn't even hold your own for thirty seconds in a debate on the issue against any of the people whose personalities you attack with the most perverted of claims?

If you have given the 'wrong' answer to one or more of the above questions, don't you think it's about time you put down your placards and worked on improving yourself? It's a simple choice you have; enable a tyrant or enable yourself and others around you; spread anarchy or spread tolerance, understanding, maturity and a need for self introspection and personal principles. For unless you do, you will all be nothing more than mere babblers. And nobody respects babblers.