Nazar main rahte ho jab tum nazar nahin aate..

It still seems like yesterday. To have a banter, say the slang loud enough to be heard by a dozen other people, listen to failed love-affairs and to vent out my frustration with my no-female class. And like typical nerds get engrossed in debate on application of some random theorem...

That had always my schedule whenever I am in my hometown... until the shit happened ... that was my best friend's way of describing things ...

His last post on his blog was titled "Shit happens.. " ...and within a week it did.

It has been three years since then ... Not a single day of mine goes in Nanded

without thinking of him ...

Kapil, wherever u r, rest in peace dude !

A poem on the man who drew the lines

[Poem on Sir Cyril Radcliff, Chairman of the commission that was to partition this subcontinent, amicably and equitably.]

Unbiased at least he was when he arrived on his mission,
Having never set eyes on the land he was called to partition
Between two peoples fanatically at odds,
With their different diets and incompatible gods.
"Time," they had briefed him in London, "is short. It's too late
For mutual reconciliation or rational debate:
The only solution now lies in separation.
The Viceroy thinks, as you will see from his letter,
That the less you are seen in his company the better,
So we've arranged to provide you with other accommodation.
We can give you four judges, two Moslem and two Hindu,
To consult with, but the final decision must rest with you."

Shut up in a lonely mansion, with police night and day
Patrolling the gardens to keep the assassins away,
He got down to work, to the task of settling the fate
Of millions. The maps at his disposal were out of date
And the Census Returns almost certainly incorrect,
But there was no time to check them, no time to inspect
Contested areas. The weather was frightfully hot,
And a bout of dysentery kept him constantly on the trot,
But in seven weeks it was done, the frontiers decided,
A continent for better or worse divided.

The next day he sailed for England, where he could quickly forget
The case, as a good lawyer must. Return he would not,
Afraid, as he told his Club, that he might get shot.

[Courtesy: W H Auden, The Partition]

देख महाभारत का रण..

मृतकोसे भरी हुई भू हैं, पहचान कहाँ इसमें तू हैं
यह देख जगत का आदि-अन्त, यह देख, महाभारत का रण

Dantewada happened yesterday. It prompted Union Home Minister to say " The war has been thrust upon us".

From here in Raipur(Chhatisgarh), it seemed like it was waiting to happen for years and for decades together. And I am not talking about the operational failures of CRPF but the political failures of successive governments to deliver the promise of India to the jungles of Bastar pushing the tribals in abject povery.

However, it's no time for such analysis, as the battlelines are drawn and the guns are pointed. Massive force at an unprecedented scale is deployed at the heart of country against our own poeple. For the first time since independence unmanned aircrafts shall be used against India's own citizens. We are becoming a Pakistan -- a state we love to abhor, by authorizing use of such aerial strikes.

अब रण होगा, जीवन-जय या कि मरण होगा।
रण ऐसा होगा , फिर कभी नहीं जैसा होगा।
भाई पर भाई टूटेंगे, विष-बाण बूँद-से छूटेंगे,
फण शेषनाग का डोलेगा, विकराल काल मुँह खोलेगा।
रण ऐसा होगा , फिर कभी नहीं जैसा होगा।

I am caught in a situation where I cannot renounce my own government as it would tantamount to dishonouring the supreme sacrifice of CRPF jawans. While at the same time I cannot stand by the government for its criminal neglegance of Bastars for years together.
I feel like Karna in Mahabharat..

है ऋणी कर्ण का रोम-रोम, जानते सत्य यह सूर्य-सोम
तन मन धन दुर्योधन का है, यह जीवन दुर्योधन का है
सुर पुर से भी मुख मोडूँगा,
केशव ! मैं उसे न छोडूंगा ..मैं उसे न छोडूंगा ..

Taking Magic off the stick

Not many know that FIH hockey world cup was started by a Pakistani Air Marshal and the country won 3 Olympic gold-medals and is 4 time world cup winner. Sad to see such great team finish last in the world cup.

India's no better 8 times Olympic gold and twice world cup winner hockey has gone down the drain .. fighting for 7th position.

Can it get any worse ?

Mujib, Prabhakaran and The Great Game

Right to speak in one's own language is a birth-right. More fundamental than perhaps the freedom itself !
So when Generals writing Pakistan's constitution imposed Urdu as national language on millions of Begalis in East Pakistan felt disowned. Begalis thought, a newly born nation, as it was in '50s and '60s had more pressing issues to tackle and gave Pak generals a benefit of doubt. And Pak took it as sign of submission. General Yahya Khan went a too far with Mujib-ur-Rahman and perhaps called him a traitor when he reached Islamabad to form Awami league led government. "Lets get rid of Mujib and these Awamis" Yahya might have said to his Lieutenants. And over-some pegs of liqueur, they chalk up a plan to murder a language from Pakistan's territory along with 2 million Awami League Supporters. And they succeed in eliminating Bengali language and Awami League from Pakistani territory only after loosing Bengali speaking land to a newly born country "Bangladesh".
Mrs. Gandhi thought to counter bullets Richard Nixon had given Yahya to kill Bengalis with those she got from Kremlin. Indian intelligence took the task of protecting Mujib and Awami League. "Lets teach Pakistan a lesson of the life time" Mrs G said to Sam Manekshaw. And sure enuff, Sam Bahadur scored one of India's finest victories in centuries. Mujib became father of a newly born republic and was hailed as one of the greatest leaders of South Asia. And one episode in this south asian great game ended only open some more bloody chapters.
----
Mrs. G had turned into a democratically elected dictator in 1979 when won a landmark victory against Janata party. Angry over Lankan support to Pakistan, she thought "Ravan stays in Lanka. Let me destroy the Lanka of his sins". One fine day, she finds her Bibhishan in the form of Prabhakaran. IBs of the country train what they thought, a brigade of Bibhishans and turn an essentially political movement into an armed uprising for the Tamil Elam. Prabhakaran, they thought would become Mujib of Sri Lanka.
But it was no Ramayan, there were no Ravans and Mrs G was neither Lord Ram nor Hanuman.
----
Mrs. G lost her elder son to an accident, which many say was cover up for a political murder of a son by his mother. We do not know the truth though. Ironically, years after her death, this Bibhishan had turned into a Bhasmaasur, a mythological monster which destroys its own creator. What was created by Mrs G, resulted into the death of her younger son, years after her own death!
----
This creation of Mrs G mastered the art of terror. It was a proud inventor of suicide bombing. ( It was LTTE who invented suicide bombing, not Al -Qaida or LeT ! ) It killed 2 presidents and 1 Prime Minister besides killing some 40,000 odd citizens.
The tide in the great game over …
Everybody dissociated from one of the dreadliest terror groups on earth. Lankans seized the opportunity and finished Prabhakaran and LTTE once and for all..
----
There aren't many things which are common between Mujib and Prabhakaran except for the language struggle and Mrs Indira Gandhi. Mujib rose to become one of the finest leaders of this sub-continent while Prabhakaran became the dreadliest terrorist.... All thanks to Mrs G and this great game of language....