Behind the Bars at Allahabad

Who would have thought that a guy like me would take such an extreme step? But extra-ordinary situations often bring out the ‘not-so-apparent’ part of you; the one which you never thought even existed. How else my experience of that day be explained? The day I ended up behind the bars at the Naini Central Jail at Allahabad!



August 31st, 1990. Moti Lal Nehru Hospital, Allahabad.

A large gathering of over a 1000 students was keenly watched by 100 armed policemen. The policemen had orders – not to allow the March. The then Central Government had decided to come down heavily on protestors against its prized decision to implement “The Mandal Commission Report”.

The report (which most urbane, educated and mainly upper-caste youth saw as flawed) talked about giving reservations in jobs to people not on the merit but on their caste. The logic being that the lower caste people have been oppressed for a long period of time and they need this crutch to share better opportunities.

The Flaw -

Downtrodden, oppressed – yes, they are. They also need an additional support and understanding. But they need self-esteem and dignity too (which definitely have taken a hit over centuries of oppression).

How would this happen? Wouldn’t it by “enabling” them through education? Education is the key. They should be provided free education, free books, and free meals as they attend schools. If we fail here, we would keep failing to enable them. No matter how much and how long you reserve jobs for them. Providing out-of-turn reservations in jobs at best would incentivise kids to take up studies but at the same time it would dent their sense of equality, the thing for which they all have been striving for centuries!

But the leaders who look at them as “vote-banks” wouldn’t agree. They would keep doling out short-term measures to woo the community. So what if these measures can only be enjoyed by select few who already had the opportunity and means to reach till college!

Coming back to that day, the procession of 1000 students which even had a representation of 30 odd women was finally allowed to march - but for only 50 metres! This of course was not in the mind of all of us who had decided to do something about the issue and led by our leaders, we kept walking. As the police resistance grew, the leaders started lying on the ground to protest. Soon most of us were lying on the Civil Lines road.

The message went through to the police and soon the police-vans arrived to take us to the big jail – The Naini Central Jail. While we were taken, we were routed through the posh and happening areas of Allahabad like Civil Lines, High Court, C.S.Azad Park, Hindu hostel etc – this enabled us to shout slogans through-out these areas. May be, there was a tacit support to us from some unexpected quarters in the Police!

Roughly 500 of us reached Naini Jail where our leader Ratan Dixit (a Sabhasad, Editor of “Pragati-Manjusha” and also the Organiser of “Nyay Morcha”) told us to give voluntary arrests. It would have been a tough decision for most students as they were concerned about their parents’ reaction, but for a Hostler like me, it was easy.

103 of us got arrested.

We were taken to barracks which were ear-marked for “B” grade prisoners. We were given a dari, a blanket, a bed-sheet, a surahi and a mug. We were free to do anything inside the barrack except whistling (as it was one of the ways in Jail by which people alert the inmates in case there is a fight or a jail-break).

The officer who was assigned to us seemed to be a helpful one and provided us tea on our request even at an odd hour. His kindness extended further as he provided us with a Colour TV set! We ate Poori-Bhaji, watched some TV and retired for the day. It was a real jail, I was a real inmate and yet -I had a sound sleep!

Morning saw some of the guys managing “Neem-Datoons” for us. Then there was a ‘sad’ breakfast followed by discussions of hunger-strike over the food quality. But it was concluded that it isn’t a major issue when we were there for a bigger cause.

The romanticism of fighting for a cause was there but then there were hard realities too and I confess, like many others I too was worried about the forthcoming exams.
Mr. Dixit suggested that we give application and he would persuade the higher officials to allow us to take exams, in case our stay extended in the jail. So far, we had no clue how long we’d be imprisoned.

As the day progressed we were informed that a group of visitors is out there waiting for us. We were taken into a huge compound with high-rise boundary walls and as the gate opened, imagine our joy as hoards of students, parents, university officials rushed inside – most of them bringing with them bunch of bananas!

Soon the compounded was full of anti-mandal, anti-establishment slogans and also - banana peels!

It was a sentimental moment as the parents including mothers applauded our action and encouraged us to stick to the cause. This was the ultimate satisfaction.

We were then all taken back to our barrack where after lunch we busied ourselves in cultural activities – few in the group displayed their talent. Done with it, we had a meeting on how to carry forward our movement. As often happens in life, people were split between using violent measures and non-violent ones. The final decision reached was to stick to a non-violent protest.

Before the evening could set in, we were taken by surprise when we were told that we are being released! It seems someone had taken a bail for all of us. That finally drew curtains on my one day jail-yatra and arguably on my small few moments of glory.

One of the things which I particularly liked about Naini Central Jail was that there were certain life-term prisoners who after their good conduct were given authority to maintain discipline in the jail. These people referred to as “Pukka” were even given a uniform and played a big role in maintaining law and order right there, among their fellow hardened criminals. Strange are the ways of life, sometimes!

(An autobiographical account)

Nature Unfair?

First a little poem of mine :

Uska Kasoor?

signal par
wo bheekh mangta bachcha,
haddi-haddi nang-dhadang jism
bahti naak aur
registaani zameen sa rookha
dhool se sana sar

khel-khilaune
aur basta uthaane ki umr mein
bojh dho raha hai
apne kutumb ka!

nischal, kaatar aankhein uski
maano poochhti hain
ki kasoor kya hai uska?

kyun zindagi ne uske
bachpan ka gala ghontkar
kafan ki tarah daal di hai uspar
chaadar gareebi ki?



The nature is so perfect that even the Scientist like Stephen Hawkins in his book "The Brief History of Time" came close to the acceptance of a divine power for such an extraordinary ideal situation for the "life" to begin on this planet (though he denied it as a work of God) and the great Einstein talked about "the necessity for a beginning" and eventually to "the presence of a superior reasoning power."

If the nature is so perfectly balanced that it seems almost flawless, why there would be unfairness towards the like of the child discussed in the poem?

I have a theory about it :
Apart from our physical existence, each of us, I believe, basically is a bundle of impressions which get shaped by our actions (shall we call it soul?) and then when gross body expires these impressions still linger on in the environment and take the shape of new life forms, these impressions may be good or bad or evil, and based on that they may face differing outcomes as decided by the nature. Hence we see someone fortunate and someone with misfortune - without seemingly obvious fault of there own! This may happen right from the begining as to how and where and to whom they are born and may keep happening thereafter.

This is my take on Karma, Soul and Re-birth. Because I don't believe the nature which is so perfect can fail when it comes to the core value of equality or fairness.

What say?
(No feedback now-a-days makes me feel sad)
:(

Joyous Vegas!

A week at Vegas did well to my fraying nerves. Was there to attend a congress with my colleague Surya Kiran. Unlike many other cities of US (and I have seen quite a few of them now), Vegas vibrates with energy. As is true of most Tourist Havens, Vegas is full of activities, more so after the sun sets in and the innumerable lamps with dancing lights take over each and every part of Vegas.



For good times don’t we use the phrase “har din id aur har raat diwali”?
Id or no id, but Vegas does boast of a diwali every night with whole of the strip decorating itself in magnificent, all pervasive lights and like a true diwali, engulfs folk in “juaa” or gambling!

Every Hotel worth its name in Las Vegas boasts of a battery of slot machines - inviting, seducing and captivating the tourist. To ensure you can’t escape its charm, the casino begins right at the entrance of the Hotel to greet you even before you can reach the lobby. Even much before that, as soon as you enter the Airport, you know you have arrived at Vegas as the omnipresent slot machines are right there smiling at you in a fashion that would give even a seasoned seductress a good run for her money!



But the Hotel where we stayed didn’t progress beyond the evening. It has captured a nice romantic Venice-like evening and doesn’t allow it to slip at all! Well, how they do is - they have created a sky on the roof of a huge compound which even has canals like Venice where people even ride Gondolas! The sky, the lighting, the ambience is such that you feel you are in Venice (and I can certify that since I’ve been to Venice). No wonder the hotel is called Venetia. The concept of “open-air” given a twist doesn’t make the restaurants here any less enjoyable than the open-air ones at Venice on a lazy, laid-back evening.

As usual, I lost money while Surya Kiran pocketed a clean $ 50, winning his way through the slot machines. I even didn’t have a comfort of the cliché saying– “unlucky in cards, lucky in love”. Do I?



The conference over, gambling over, shopping over, we then moved to Grand Canyons on a Bus Tour. It was a whole day affair but that’s the best we could manage as the chopper tours either were all pre-booked or were a bit too expensive. The Canyons are such a vast expanse of natural high and low formations around the Colorado river that one can understand the flirtations of adventure-seeking men with them over many years – even before the days of wild wild western cow-boys.


Mackenna’s gold or no gold - they stand tall as one of the seven natural wonders on the earth.

The world may be big but it still is small as I bumped into my cousin’s family at Chicago Airport! They were travelling in the same flight and my sister-in-law was visiting India after 2 years and they were to return same day, same flight, and same airport as I flew – what co-incidence!

To be back in India as the plane touches the Airport still feels great, I am happy, content and at peace being back at home. Only flip side is as I think of the work that would have piled-on by now, I get frayed nerves.

Masala Mix

Long long long time.
Yes, it's been quite a while since I have put anything here. This leads to the realisation that it's fairly easy to start something but it is difficult to sustain things. Having said that "well begun is half done", naa?

Suddenly I'm in the midst of lots of travel. Last fortnight I was all over - Mumbai, Ahmedabad, Chennai, Bangalore, Hyderabad and Pune. Well, all of this was touch-and-go and I failed to touch base with friends there. Talking of Travel, read that Abhishek was to create a Guinness Book Record by covering six cities in a day to promote his 'Delhi 6'. Private jet and all that.

Media went hysterical on the 'pink chaddi' campaign.



What happened? Did Muthaliar recieved the chaddis? Did he accept? What would become of all those chaddis - who knows! God knows why fundamentalists all over the world suddenly have become sooo active! At Swat, Taliban was able to arm-twist the Pakistani governement (no prizes for guessing who the real boss is). In US, the 'Chimpanzee cartoon' echoed the racial stereotype of depicting blacks as monkeys (Bhajji amused?).



Somewhere in the blog I have mentioned about my incorrigible romanticism. This was re-inforced as I watched SRK's Billu Barber (oops! just Billu, no barber; god! whatever is happening to our collective tolerance!). I enjoyed the movie like I haven't enjoyed one for a long-long time. Perfect Romanticism! A powerful god-like star and a bechara gareeb gaon ka barber - and the `friendship' transcends even the huge wall which usually gets erected around superhuman(image of)superstars! If Dev-D was a modern take on Sarat Chandra's Devdas, Billu seemed a modern take on Krishna-Sudama's fairy-tale story. The movie heightened my romanticism to such extent that I was crying buckets of Khushi-ke-Aansu towards the end (my poor friend - she must've been scared like hell, though she just reacted my making some fun of the tears rolling down my cheeks).



Another on-your-face message was how our society in general treats people when they are successful/important and how the same ones are dumped and ridiculed when they are no more important.

Am excited about my upcoming business trip to Vegas next week. Hope to get more spicier masala mix! Keep pouring your views/feedback. Without them, the blog is not even worthwhile.

[Anuradhaji, apologize for removing your post 'moral of the story'. I was getting envious of your 3rd successive post whereas I wasn't able to put any ;) ]

Tip to sleep peacefully

(Guest Article by Anuradha)

Be Strong enough to accept the challenges of life.
Don't ask life "Why me?", instead smile and say "YES!...try me".

A Small Story :
A boy and a girl were playing together. The boy had a collection of marbles. The girl had some sweets with her. The boy told the girl that he will give her all his marbles in exchange for her sweets. The girl agreed. The boy kept the biggest and the most beautiful marble aside and gave the rest to the girl. The girl gave him all her sweets as she had promised. That night, the girl slept peacefully. But the boy couldn't sleep as he kept wondering if the girl had hidden some sweets from him the way he had hidden his best marble.

Moral of the story:
If you don't give your hundred percent in a relationship, you'll always keep doubting if the other person has given his/her hundred percent. This is applicable for any relationship like love, employer-employee relationship etc., Give your hundred percent to everything you do and sleep peacefully.

Attitudes

(Guest Article by Anuradha)

They can conquer who believe they can, for nothing in this world is impossible to achieve.

I have a strong passion for the above statement because it tells us about belief and belief is a direct result of our thoughts. I have to evaluate a lot of people. During the course of the interview, I shoot a series of questions to evaluate the person & finally end up with a chart. The chart would have Knowledge ,Attitude, Skill & Habits written on it and the candidate has to prioritize the same. I would then evaluate the candidate based on his overall response. Those who prioritized Attitude as #1 choice are the ones who succeed in their career in a very short span of time.

The point here is I believe that Knowledge is acquired after we are born, Skill is learnt by seeing others, Habits are formed by our environment and surroundings. It is only Attitude that comes by birth and effects our Life by the way we choose to apply it on the other three factors. I have always appreciated the positive attitude that Sanju has shown through out his life ,be it turbulent time or happy times his approach has always been very positive and innovative. And I guess the guy at the Agra station also developed this attitude for his entire life and that one instance must have surely fixed up in his mind that goodness is still alive.

A Night @ Rly Stn

He was a 22 year old. He had come over to Agra to meet his boss Mr. Kannan from Head Office. Last two days have been very hectic - going from one customer to another with the boss. Tonight the boss had called for a dinner with other two local Agra boys - Yogish and Kansal. A round of whiskey preceded the dinner. He had more than his share of drinks and was nicely sozzled.

Yogish came with him to the Railway Station; the train was to leave Agra at 10.00 pm. They managed just in time. He was carrying his luggage bag and a small desk-top projector, which the company had provided to 8 of its best salesmen all across the country for a special project (he was one of them). He didn’t even have a reservation, Yogish somehow managed to find a seat for him in a very crowded general compartment. His 2 pieces of luggage were kept on the space provided above the seats.

He was feeling nauseating as Yogish bid to him farewell and left. The alcohol made him feel very uneasy inside the compartment where people were stuffed like packed sardines in a can. It felt slightly better as the train started moving and a wave of fresh breeze touched his sloshed face.

The train again stopped at a nearby station and the same feeling of stuffiness was coming back. Few people got out of the compartment to get some fresh air and to stretch themselves up. He too got down and sat on a bench just opposite to his compartment. The fresh air was cool and very soothing to his face which had heated up due to the experiences of last few hours.

He was woken up by a chowkidar. “Hey, why are you sleeping here on this bench?” the chowkidar roared. He opened his eyes and mumbled, “am just going to hop into the train as it’d move.” The chowkidar seemed surprised “Which train?” he asked.

When he fully understood the implication of that question, it seemed to him as if someone had pulled the carpet under his feet. The spirit at once evaporated and with it were gone all it’s effects! He was now fully conscious, awake but awfully shaken. The chowkidar took him to the Station Master and reported the incident. The old station Master started a lecture on how the boys today feel no responsibility towards themselves, their family and society.

As the Station Master was ranting, the boy seemed very scared; now for the first time thinking about the implications of his action. How would he face his family, his friends and the company! How would he manage to compensate for the loss of the projector, which would roughly be worth his ten month salary! He had no answers.

He slowly gained control on his intellectual faculties and took lot of pain in explaining to the Station Master how difficult it was to work as a sales person in a private firm and how hard he had been working for last few days and how he had been keeping his sleep away in order to impress his boss with his hard work. All this led to the minor lapse of falling asleep as he sat on the platform bench, waiting for his train to move.

The old Station Master had a distant relative who had given up on government jobs after trying for god-knows-how-many-years. He started asking about the potential in private firms and if the boy could help in anyway. The boy asked the station master to send his resume and promised he’d surely do something about it. He also handed over his card to him. After that the behaviour of the Station Master changed completely towards him. He said that though it was almost impossible to find luggage in such cases, he would try his best calling up the next big station Tundla and asking the staff to look for the luggage.

The Station Master asked for specifics – which bogie, what seat number and was aghast to note that the boy had none. Of the many general compartments, he could only tell him that this was one closer towards the engine and that he had two pieces of luggage - a red bag and a brown leather-case.

As he looked into the Station Master’s face after the latter’s call to Tundla Station, he knew that retrieving the luggage seemed almost impossible. Next few hours they both caught up with some sleep. Early next morning, the boy boarded another train to Tundla. There was no news from there still.

At Tundla station, he walked to the relevant department and started narrating his story to the first person he saw. That person with a mischievous smile said, “Oh so you are that person!” He further added, “with great difficulty, we spotted your luggage yesterday night, it’s lying safe with us”. As the boy followed that person to collect it, he wondered, “anywhere in the world, would there be anyone else, happier than me at this moment?” He smiled and knew he didn’t have to answer this rhetorical question.

(An autobiographical account)