Talking Shop: Hung humans of sorts

“Damn, you can never be

broken. You can fall, you

can get bruises, but you can

never be broken. You’re

living, breathing, and the

best example for yourself.”

―Hareem Ch

We are like hung curd. Tie a knot and hang us in a corner and we get better as our slithery parts drip down from the silken towel that throttles our neck. And then, we are ready to be cooked into a fine, smooth gravy. It’s not just me; my cats and dog are deeply disappointed too. I don’t blame them. They purr and guffaw when I watch the news on TV. If I don’t retort, cuss, curse or swear, they get dejected and go bhow and meow belligerently. They are right. For people that don’t understand animals, this is an abject lesson. For those that do, animals know what’s going wrong with their ‘ilaaka’ (territory); man is yet to truly absorb that lesson still.

An inevitable process has begun within all of us, thankfully not yet deep-seated or truly ingrained, for it is not understood in the larger scheme of things. We perhaps want to witness more damage before we accede to and accept the tottering and rottening situation that confronts us. The decaying dynamics are as astonishing as they are pathetic and deplorable, but they have become part of us. Dhisshum, as our yesteryear heroes would say on the silver screen while a bleating villain would suffer a battering. Where is this monologue going, you ask? Well, it is headed the way you and I are, into an abyss—for the land we live in today is displaying signs of rabid intolerance and naked hatred, craftily catalyzed by widely-awake and insipid insomniacs who are attempting to turn us into messianic hullabaloos. Let me explain.

Do we need examples?

I guess we do. And thus, we have a teacher who instructs her entire class, turn by turn, to slap a little boy who happens to hail from another community. We have a railway protection officer who roams through a train and shoots all those he can as they belong to a particular community. In glitzy Gurugram, right on the periphery of Delhi, there’s a state of siege as mobs run amok, attacking homes, commercial establishments and places of worship of one community. Why speak of communities; let’s speak of the empowered classes—the till-recent head of a federation gropes female athletes and gets away scot-free, even as the award-winning sportswomen are dragged away and taken into custody. People carrying swords and tridents (trishuls) are given bail within days while some others remain behind bars for months, sometimes years.

A mob assaulted a Class 10 boy studying in a government school in Tripura after he objected to Hijab-clad girls being prevented from attending classes. Local authorities in Haryana's Nuh used bulldozers to demolish 45 commercial shops, alleging they were illegally constructed over a 2.5-acre property. Amid all this violence and devastation, a duo from different communities remained unaffected and their friendship stays strong. One Shastri and another Zubair continue to hang out still—they go shopping daily on a bike, unbothered by tensions between the communities as a result of the targeted mayhem. All they ask is that they be left alone to live. “It does not bother us. It is all political,” said one, a farmer. The other, a priest in a temple, just wants to be allowed to visit the market with his friend. We shall not even go to Manipur and what’s still transpiring there.

What is happening?

Politics is, and of the most rotten kind. Wannabe new political heroes are not just engaging in acts of shameless intolerance and outright insolence to please the powerful, they are also resorting to complete lawlessness; so much so that one class is being targeted with audacity—to downcast them and alienate them and instigate physical hostility. Very ironically, this is happening barely a week before the world’s leaders will descend into India and our Capital city in their fancy airplanes, lay claim to our fancier 5-star hotels for the G-20 meet, while you and I shall cower under another virtual lockdown. Our highways and Metro Rail Stations are anyway adorned with banners and posters welcoming the delegates, though I see no reason why Joe Biden and Xi Jinping will travel on the Delhi Metro or the Noida Flyway.

One can but hope that September 8-10 passes off peacefully and that no further undue recourses happen, for the sake of the respect of our country, built on long-drawn protests and a Satyagraha, with very solid foundations. As a nation, we have just last month spent a lot of public tax-payers’ money on refurbishing our anyway good-looking New Delhi into a ‘dynamic superpower’. The authorities have done what they can to keep us looking good and even better—we as a people now have to ensure that we retain that respect, despite the spooning rebellion within the classes. Should we use a fork, for forked tongues are common for the new powerful brethren? Litany apart, we have to get our act together.

What do we do now?

Ab kya karna hai (what do we do now?) Apni izzat bachaani hai (we have to save our respect, self- and otherwise). No further undue incidents should be allowed and I am sure that the Government, having invested so much time and funds on this historic meet, is monitoring things at even the most miniscule and formidable levels, including the vibrant and sometimes-regrettable social media. That’s internationally saving-face, requisite in this special G-20 week where we shall be subject to global attention and scrutiny, especially by their very vibrant and stroppy media.

After the G-20 meet, on the domestic level, we have to ensure that things are brought to an even keel within all our own systems, communities and even our epitaphs. Errant jokers with their nuts in their mouths and elsewhere need to be brought to justice, if only to prove that the rule of law, sensibility and dhairya (patience) prevails in the great country that we were lucky enough to be born in. Such is the nature of history—it watches everything silently, but takes decades to report how things turned, and who was at the helm when change or chaos happened.

Sometimes, change is the best option. Ernest Agyemang Yeboah said: “Substitution is a true test of strength. The real performance of a player is seen not only during playing time, but also and more especially when the player is substituted.” Perhaps, it is time for us to get in substitutes who perform better than previously (and grievously) selected players. That may be the only option to get things back on track to continue our march towards a world full of ever-adorning nectar.

The writer is a veteran journalist and communications specialist. He can be reached on narayanrajeev2006@gmail.com.Views expressed are personal