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SIGNS OF THE TIMES
Even before the International
Human Rights day - 10
December - before one could see
some of those symbolic uttering
or muttering sessions, there came this
rather bizarre move from the
government - contemplating curtailing
the so called objectionable or
provocative matter on those social
networking sites !
Tell me how would you react to this move which is not just strangely lopsided but seems reeking with desperation cum ignorance of a strange strain. As though the government machinery mistakes these sites or the cyber space for one of their ministries or those IAS or IPS officers directly under their control, and with that can be ordered to shut or open a this or that file. And coming to the obvious offshoot - what is objectionable for you could be simply superb for me, for my whims and fancies .Who will decide those guidelines! For whom! And why! Why should I be dictated by policing of a certain kind on my thoughts, views , …? Somehow I get the strong feeling that these distractions are purposely thrown in so that serious issues are never ever discussed.
Dev Anand’s passing away took away
another of those legendary romantics.
Stylish and boyish at once! Not to
overlook the fact that he went away so
very peacefully, departing gracefully ,
without having to go through hospital
rounds or those torturous sessions at
the hands of medical specialists . With
his demise we seem to have lost yet
another of those romantics - three in a
row - ghazal singer Jagjit Singh , yahoo
man Shammi Kapoor and now the
legendary Dev Anand …
And before Assam and its emotional
people could recover from Bhupen
Hazarika’s death, came the news of the
passing away of writer Indira Goswami.
She had been seriously ill for the last two
years. In fact, she had even shifted base
, from New Delhi to Assam ,so that her
relatives could look after her . Widowed
within months of her marriage ,she
went through an emotionally turbulent
phase which actually paved way for her
writings. One book after another. With
her autobiography - The Unfinished
Autobiography - baring much and with
that getting closer to her readers.
And I had first met her almost ten years back ,when she was teaching at the Delhi University and had peaked as a writer - was conferred with awards by Sahitya Akademi and Jnanpith (2000). I ‘d gone to her apartment on the DU campus, requesting her to release my short story collection. And now , looking back, that first impression that has stayed with me is the warmth in her place , in that neatly done up living room where she sat and had ordered tea and snacks .And as the conversation took off, she seemed not just spontaneous but forthcoming - telling me about the harsh turns in her life , the depressive phase she went through after her husband had died in a car accident and how she managed to survive .In fact , more than hinting that it was writing alone that had kept her going. Writing seemed to take care of the emotional vacuum in her life and though there were rumours that she had found a companion, she was always alone and by herself. Thereafter we’d met on several occasions and each time she gave me long and short lectures, focusing on the fact that writing alone can take care of the emotional upheavals and fill in those vacuums . Perhaps, she had witnessed much and gone through immense pain and that alone made her connect with her people and with the rebels - remember she had offered to hold those peace talks with the ULFA cadres .In fact, I still recall her words when I asked her about the outcome of those talks and she had quipped -“ those boys are like my children and it's my duty as a writer to halt senseless killings and the disasters spreading out …we have to save our children and bring them back to the mainstream and see that sense prevails . ”
stretches. In fact ,
the crux of this problem emerges from
the fact that the men who rule or
misrule, commute by those big - bodied
cars and sit in those air conditioned
dens and with that live far away from the
ground realities . With these
backgrounders they’d be little bothered
if you and I are attacked ,pulled apart
and bitten by stray dogs .
In those good old days fairs were
held for buying or selling ; one of those
meeting grounds , to pick up this or
that. Right from cattle to cauliflower.
Well, today there seems an extension of
sorts …what , with that fair held at
Ahmedabad, where middle-aged
singletons gathered from different
locales, looking for a mate or a
companion. What seemed rather
offbeat was the fact that only fifty and
sixty year olds could participate! But
then, loneliness takes over and that
craving for companionship holds sway.
And another of those off beats was the
fact that several of these middle-aged
men and women were got there by their
adult children. Cool children, no longer
worried about social pressures and with
that no longer in the grip of those
stupid ‘sakes’ but concerned about their
single parents’ loneliness. Loneliness can
be far more torturous than hunger pangs!
In fact, this trend of lonely middleaged or old singletons of the country going about rather confidently, looking for a suitable companion can be termed a positive change of sorts. Throwing away those layers of hypocrisy, we seem to be finally marching ahead.
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