Married to Martyrdom

I should admit that I am not very favorable to soldiers, the men and women in uniform, fighting to protect the nation from intruders and enemies. Not even because my father happens to be a former soldier, having served the nation for some 30 years as foot-soldier. I have not experienced anything which made me feel a sense of animosity towards these patriotic men, but I know deep within I am not in favor of this class of people. Does a country need soldiers, at all? Can’t we do away with soldiers, who are paid to protect the nation and the people, and who in turn are expected to pay back to the nation with their blood.

Today as I watched the Republic Day parade in Delhi, there was the awarding ceremony. The prime minister paid his tribute to the ‘amar jawan’ (immortal soldiers), by placing a wreath at India Gate memorial. The first citizen of the nation had awarded the brave soldiers with Ashoka Chakra medals, for their bravery. The soldiers who had died while protecting the national boundary, and fighting against insurgents and terrorists, are given great regard and respect by the nation. They are considered the nation’s pride, and we glory in them. But behind most of the soldiers, especially the foot-soldiers like my father, there is yet another self, which is often not talked about.

I have heard it from my father that he joined the Indian army, when he was barely 18, with education which was too little to join the army. He had to bribe the school authorities to give a certificate saying he had completed class 8, while in fact he had completed only class 5. The purpose? Not that he had great patriotic spirit, and a desire to give his life for the nation. No, not at all. He wanted a job, and it was easy to get into the army with such low academic qualification, and so he did. I had an opportunity to visit one of his camps, a few years prior to his retirement, and I was not pleased at the way he was treated by his superiors! But that is a different story.

Since my father was most often on duty, we were under the care of my mother, who had to take care of the five of us; she had to look after our education, farming, feasts and festivals. My father visited us twice a year, one annual leave and another casual leave, and often we would look forward to his coming, because we felt quite secure under his care, more than that of my mother. But one thing was for sure, we all missed the loving care of the father; it was only after his retirement that I came close to him. Being an introvert, I could hear my father pour out his real self, only under the influence of alcohol, and at other times, he was soft-spoken. I feel he too missed us all very much during his lonely battle with life in the army camps for so many years.

It is possible that we cannot altogether abolish army in a country, unless all the nations of the world decide to do so, and divert the money they would otherwise use to maintain the army, for developmental works, such as providing scholarship for rural education, job opportunities to the unemployed, research facilities on culture and religions, to name a few. But I feel sad when we hear the stories of army men living inhuman lives in the camps, and some of them even committing suicide due to loneliness and meaninglessness in the midst of adverse climatic and social conditions. Do we need to protect the land by spilling the blood of innocent men and women, and encourage it in the name of patriotism and bravery? We may have to look for alternative ways of protecting the nation, if at all there is a grave need, and not throw the lives of gullible men and women before the gun-point!

Brothers in Arms

The title of this blog is the name of a Gregorian song, Masters of Chant, Chapter 1, and as I listened to the song, as is usual, the words were not that clear. So I googled and found the lyrics, which were so very wonderful that I thought I would dwell on just four lines from third verse of the song. These are the words which caught my attention from the song : There's so many different worlds / So many different suns / And we have just one world / But we live in different ones. These words I feel, depict our present predicament; what we have done with the world, and how we have alienated ourselves from our brothers and sisters!

I may be lucky not to have my close relatives or parents or siblings across the border, in Bangladesh or Pakistan or Sri Lanka. I may not be able to feel the pain and agony those who do have their dear ones across the wired fences, nor will the country's leaders will ever feel it. It is the same earth, same green fields, same rivers, but we have given them different names, different attributes; we have painted our fields and waters with political colors, and the same waters which flows from the courtyards of our dear ones across the border, become untouchable poison when it reaches our shores! What have we done to this earth, and what have we done to the humanity?

It is heartening to realize that I have an identity which is so very different from those of my friends and relatives living across the border (an imaginary line of control that some people have drawn in their minds, and expect the whole population to abide by it). I envy the birds of the air, which can fly across these wired fences without passport and visas; I envy the insects, who can give a wake up call to the people of neighboring countries. The birds of the air and the insects of our gardens know that it is one world, and why have we not understood this great philosophy! And still we would hark that humanity is far more advanced than the plants and birds!

Bernard Shaw, several decades ago, had shown the futility of arms, in his popular and enlightening play "Farewell to Arms". It is true, he used the word 'arms' with a pun, but nevertheless he had a point to make. The world is becoming smaller and smaller day by day; the rising sectarianism across the globe is a threat which is far more dangerous than the ecological devastation we are so frightened of! Each nation is facing growing sectarianism, which are based on the selfish interests of a handful of people, and the nations are not able to contain them, and so, our world is becoming narrower day by day, and I am afraid after a few decades, we may have village-nations (like the city-states of the Greeks and the Romans).

We cannot think of a nation, which will be prepared to give up arms happily, in order to let the pigeons of peace fly in the sky, to let the citizens walk freely. If only the money that is spent on keeping a vigil at the wired fences and the borders were used for educating the rural masses, India would have been a super power long before. If only the money spent on arms and ammunition, fighter planes and warships were utilised for poverty eradication programs, the nation would have grown into a happy nation. It is time that we the conscious citizens of the nation make conscious and serious efforts to over throw the wired fences to forge ahead and meet the brothers and sisters longing for a warm hug across the borders!

Cost of Freedom

Celebration of the anniversary of the Indian Independence is an appropriate time to reflect on the cost of freedom; how much have we paid and what have we paid to enjoy independence, which has put the world’s largest democracy into the world map? What was my share in acquiring this freedom? I might proudly hark that I was not even born when the nation gained independence, or else I would have given even my life for it. Needless to say, several selfless men and women had given their lives, fighting fierce battle with the British, to free their motherland. It is their sweat and blood that gave us this nation, which we can call truly our own.

We have a stereotyped list of freedom fighters, under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi, followed by a host of leaders who were instrumental in actualizing the freedom. Subhash Chandra Bose, Chittaranjan Das, Moulana Abul Kalam Azad, to name a few, were front runners in the freedom struggle. But today I think it is important that we turn our focus from these illustrious figures to the unknown freedom fighters whose names would never find place in the long list of glorious persons who gave their lives, so that we might have a better tomorrow.

The real strength of the Indian national movement or call it the fight for a free India, was not so much the big leaders who led the struggle from city to city, but the quiet foot-soldiers who fought quietly in the remote corners of this vast nation. Most often the names of these sincere and faithful children of Mother India are simply obliterated, so that the mighty and the powerful will win the glitter and the gold. They are often included in the list of the ‘unknown’ soldiers, with a barren pillar standing in the midst of rain and shine, with none to care.

Today we recall to mind the spirit of sagacity that these men and women in different parts of the country exhibited, going beyond any political or social or communitarian leanings. Their thirst for freedom has found the nation breaking free, but these small fry have been swallowed by the monstrous leaders who took hold the fate of the nation. Today it is time to call for another freedom struggle, to free the nation from the corrupt, power-hungry, immoral, selfish leaders, who know only one thing – to make the nation to fulfill their personal goals and objectives. It is time that the souls of these foot-soldiers rise from their ashes, and reclaim the nation for her people.

The cry of mother India pining for love and care for her marginalized children echoes in the skies; she wept the fate of her children even as the Prime Minister hoisted the tricolor at the ramparts of the Red Fort. The cry of a mother cannot go in vain, so they say; if that be true, then there is sure to be a resurgence, when her children will rise to bring the same pristine honor and glory that she had been enjoying for centuries. It is our turn to blow the trumpet, chime the temple bells, draw out our swords and daggers, because here begins our ‘dharmakshetra, kurukshetra’!

Call to be Catalysts

If there is one news channel in the country which acutely feels the inadequacy in the systems that govern the lives of the people and initiate moves to remedy at least those which are within the purview of the audiences, it is undoubtedly the New Delhi Television (NDTV), headed by Dr Pronnoy Roy. I had a lot of admiration for the son of this soil, West Bengal, who today exerts a lot of respect in the national level, not only for his journalistic acumen, but more in the way he and his team puts across the news of the national level. It is not the so-called passive, indifferent news reporting; the different reporters of the channel break all myths of traditional journalism; they get involved in the scene, and would not hesitate to tell us how he/she felt at the time of the event... Barkha Dutt surely belongs to that category or fire-brand reporters.

But what caught my attention as I sat two days ago in front of the television to see the crude clippings of the siege of the Taj and Oberoi Trident in Mumbai, the team went behind the scenes to capture the sentiments of a wide spectrum of people; everyone had something to say about the events... what the channel does, though not directly, is building a healthy public opinion, to counter the vile attempts of the political parties to politicise every event possible. Until we dissociate events of the country from politics, there is no salvation. Rightly did the Mumbaites had the guts to tell the politicians to keep away from the scene... Could every citizen in the nation were to say that, we will have better peace and control in the country.

I was so delighted when anchoring the newscast two days ago in the evening at 9 o'clock news, Roy did two things that were quite unthinkable for a news channel : one minute of silence in the honor of the people who died in the encounter, and direct applause to the National Security Group for the commendable job they did in fighting back the attempts of terrorists to blow up the hotels. Giving due credit to all those who deserve will take us a long way in building a healthy atmosphere to fight against the evils that haunt our nation today.

While there are new news channels mushrooming every other day, a news channel of this kind is sure to contribute towards awakening the citizens from the slumber, created by politicians and pseudo intellectuals. In fact, each and every one can become a catalyst towards change within the circumstances we are placed. We are not expected to do something which is beyond our capacity, but if I feel the need to be a catalyst, then I will also find the ways and means of being one; it is not for self-glory or for priding that I need to be a catalyst in the society I live, but as a mark of my responsibility to the people I live with.

I am a teacher in a school, and how can I be a catalyst in my work place, in the school and in the family? It is not difficult to work out the ways how I can be a catalyst; think of the number of chances how I can educate my students on the need to respect one another, to go beyond "narrow domestic walls" of culture, religion and nationality. If every teacher becomes a catalyst in his/her school or college, then the future will be in safer hands. We may not need to face another siege of the Taj or any other place in the country. Today that is my prayer: to realise the need to come forward to take responsibility for the people with whom I live each day, and if I can do something for the good of the people before I leave the world, what more could I ever think of from this short life!