Is It Prejudice? Or Am I being Realistic?

Every road has a lamp post. Every lamppost has a bulb which glows. May be not everyone glows in my country. But there is yet another certainty with this lamppost. During the wee hours of the night, this lamppost which is positioned in all the major roads of my city shall bore the weight of a vigilant (at the least for being awake he deserves this adjective) policeman. He may put his weight all over it or park his siren fitted bike or the car below this lamp. His duty is to check over the movement of vehicles and to spot if at all any illegal transport coming in to the city. They are indeed the best suited for the job. Their vigilance is always a steep exponentially rising curve which reaches its peak over the last few days of the month. This strong culture cultivated by a few ambitious men had made a very bad impression on the hearts of every common man, at least those who travel the city in a vehicle. Every now and then the rule breakers are caught and made to bear a sum which is based on his position in the society and which is off course lesser than the penalty he is indebted to. It's not something new that I'm trying to publicize here but this is a age old practice which could better be left as such otherwise this could stir quite a huge angry mob. But then my intention is not to stir that anger.

Once I took over certain responsibilities in my college I started to stay back late in the night in the college and leave very early in the morning. For nearly one month I had been doing this without being questioned by any lamppost authority over the entire stretch of my ride back to home. On one such early winter morning I was sleepily driving my bike with some music in the earphone when the silhouette in the lamppost moved and came over to the road. The entire stretch was calm with no vehicles passing and off course I was accelerating to the maximum of my bikes capability. Seeing this human figure advancing my immediate reaction was to cut him through and advance forward. Then a serious thought occurred what if this guy was so desperate that he might chase me till the end. I just recollected my actions and was confident that I had made no mistakes in my ride and was not going to be charged for law breaking. Just then an even more intimidating reality struck me. "Do these people need reason to brand someone?" This painful thought brought me back to senses and just had the time stop my bike just In front of the figure which had advanced in front of the vehicle. He dint remove my key from the bike immediately after I stopped which really puzzled me because it was the formal procedure of these guys. He just turned over to another guy in civilian clothes and asked him to come forward. All these actions brought in much more fear and made me sweet even in that cool weather. "How much are they going to charge?" was the only thought running in me. The guy who had stopped my vehicle began to speak "hey boy, May I know where are you heading towards in this time of the night?" I replied" to my house Sir, I just had some work in my college" "very well then, which way is your house" I replied his question for which he stroked back turning to his friend" that's exactly the place where you were heading right my friend?" I indeed got h shocked. I wasn't able to make what where his intentions. This very insecurity burnt me to the core and I was still sweating. He just turned over to me and asked "would you be kind enough to allow my friend travel with you, he shall get down near your house." Was all these build up just for requesting a ride? Why hasn't he charged me? Is there something seriously wrong happening here? Maybe he is gone out of his mind. Or maybe he is being kind ad good. But then isn't it out of context for a guy like him to be kind and good.

On the outset this may appear to be a not so great post but then there is a serious note to it. The very intentions of mine thinking that if at all any lamppost guy stops a vehicle he is definitely intending to book somebody itself shows that the cruel actions of a few unjust men have made a strong scar in the hearts of countless men like me. But then there has to be exceptions in any area and even here there had to be one. Maybe this guy whom I met that day could have been that exception. At least for the common crowd to spot such spotless personalities a complete overhaul of every human mind has to be done by these men and has to create a positive impact on us. May be I'm becoming pretty ambitious now for every one of us know that this is beyond the realms of our universe for these men of cruel attitude to change themselves.

My Imagination!

A recent advertisement in the national daily intrigued me to propose a new concept for the future. It asked for entries from participants to provide ones own fantasized future. To be precise one thing that you think would appear in the future. in response to it I sent in this entry of mine:

My idea is to have a robot which can shed its inefficient mobile parts and generate a mini robot out of its now-available minimal parts which can function to the maximum of its potent. It's a simple futuristic resemblance of the phoenix. All the future bots should possess a central memory system which gets directed from a control center whenever the bot performs below its efficiency. The learning algorithm can be embedded into this newly generated bot which can learn to build itself to reach its prescribed efficiency of its parent bot. Thus the future bots doesn't depreciate over time. They shall evolve into newer and better ones as and when they come below the par efficiency. These bots will be called E-volv.

 

The Riot

It's quite canonical for a boy of 15 to get a bicycle in my neighborhood. The nuances involved in maintaining your CoG was a great pride of my age. The usual practice was to return from school, head to the bicycle shop, rent it for an hour (which was worth a rupee), and go on a wild trip around your local. My family had been living in this local for nearly 6 years now. I, by this time have learnt every available street here. The joy of riding a cycle was indeed a treat; finding new routes using it were a double treat.

I somehow managed to coax my father to allow me drive to my school which was just a few streets away. There came my first basic need, a bicycle. I failed to convince my father to buy me a new one, he still wasn't sure of my driving skills and dint want to invest on a new one. But then my uncle sprang from nowhere and generously offered his not-so-sure-of-the-year bicycle to satisfy my need. In his phone conversation he assured me that it was still in good condition and that I was surely going to like it. On my first sight of this great cycle which was absolutely covered with rags and grease, only one thing amazed me rather bothered me, can this roll on the road. Unbelievably when my father and I took it from his house, the seat came out. Seeing this father mocked me saying "ah this machine does need some alterations! It's been through year's right?!" I nodded" maybe ya, saga would be a better word for this one!" It was taken in an auto rickshaw to my place and we drove it to a repair shop and spent a couple of 100s on it. After twelve hours of rigorous work the mechanic delivered my vehicle all glossy and clean. Probably it would have been one of my brightest smile over my childhood, I felt like I got the one most important thing in my life and I need no more anything. My future indeed proved me wrong here. My mother made sure I dint drive my bike to school. She somehow fooled my father into this saying the bicycle was way too bigger for me and coincidently I had my sister fall from it just after I got the hang of this machine. I had no voice over this argument and indeed accepted for my mother's concern. By this time I had my cousin come over to my place and it was October.

My locality's geography has a striking religious touch. On the four corners of my place there were four Muslim masques. On the geographical centre of these was a Hindu temple. Over the inner circle there was one church. I always felt whether this geography was a highly intended planning in order to neutralize every community throughout this region or was it highly unintentional. I had always believed that religion was just your trademark, as long as you don't bother with it much you are not going to be disturbed. I'm never an atheist too. Maybe to go by the current vogue, I shall say I'm agnostic. October is the month of Ganesh Chaturti and on the end of this Hindu festival it's a tradition to take the ganesh idols in a procession to be submerged in the Bay of Bengal. Yet another was traditional. Since the mosques were in all corners of my locale, it was unavoidable for the procession to skip all of them. It had to cross over one important mosque. The procession was so badly timed in the past that exactly when the mosque calls for the prayer the procession had to cross over it. This indeed stirred the minds of few fanatics and there always was trouble during this time. I had never actually seen these so called riots till then but had heard enough rumors. This time my cousin a couple years elder to me urged my father to go and witness the procession. I too accompanied them. The beautifully plastered idols shined in the setting sun. Almost every artist's imagination of different forms of Ganesha was seen there. Unbelievable sizes and inexplicable beauty was all this procession until we came over to that turning.

The mosque authorities warned the pedestrians to switch off the bajan songs being played till they crossed the mosque. Apparently no one listened to this threat and walked as if there was no mosque there. A heated argument broke out with the clergies from both sides and suddenly the atmosphere around the place started appearing gloomy as more people rushed forward shouting unintelligible slanders. People started grumbling saying someone hit someone. But neither of them was sure who hit first. This agitation was more than enough for a conglomeration of thousands of men to pounce on each other, one forgetting his prayer, the other his duty to submerge the idol. Thus the tradition continued yet again. The vigilant cops came to the scene just after the fight and instantly ordered for the release of smoke bombs to clear the crowds. All this was happening around the three of us and we somehow got placed exactly in between the wranglers and the police. The moment we saw some stones being thrown over the sky, we decided to flee from these to a side street when the police dropped the first smoke bomb. Had I experienced anything worse than this itching and pain over my eyes, I would say none. It was white smoke everywhere and the next thing I remember was my mother shouting at my father in the doorstep of my house. Seeing all of us with our eyes gone red as chilly, she was all irritated and shouted on my father's irresponsibility in taking us to the procession. We then took a shower and spent the whole evening without a word between each other. The whole silence over the house showed the intense anger my mother had. The very next day we saw the headlines of our daily and once looking at the cover story, my father and I laughed. We pointed our finger over the picture covered in white smoke and said "We were here."