"MEN IN RAGS"

Men in rags

One of the best track in the Hollywood sci-fi movies is that of aliens. men in black can not exist without them. you fight against them and they sustain you. it's not a unique irony. one needs to struggle against the threatening periphery in order to retain it's central position. Once occupying the central position, which is sometimes a political accident and sometimes political circumstances, leads to a planned maintenance of the periphery. this often comes to a carnivorous desire where centre sustains upon the deprived development of the rest. Creating an economically, culturally or academically alien populace is a planned move towards the centre hegemony. Imperial structure is replicating itself within the state system and we are supposed to ignore it on the name of nationalism and patriotism. Centre periphery relation is not a linear binary, which could be drawn in clear terms. Even a periphery has its own center and periphery order. From the capital of the country to a local village Panchayat, it is the same story. Every time it has a similarly patterned story of exploitation and a forceful denial of this truth as an ungrateful blame put by some misguided peripheral person. ‘Periphery’ does not come in their vocabulary as it exposes the binary, in terms of power and prosperity sharing relation, which may hurt the sentiments of those who are there with a hopeful patience since the time they got the first promise- the promise of freedom and happiness.
It was probably a Raj Kapoor film, as far I remember, which had this beautifully sung and picturized song :
Rahne ko ghar nahi,
Sone ko bistar nahi,
Apna khuda hai rakhwala,
Usi ne to hai hame pala.
(no home to live,
No bed to sleep,
God is our caretaker,
He has brought us up.) (It is an inadequate translation, by me.)

In the same song, at some point they say, “The whole world is ours”. But it was and it can be in such films only. And it was the time when the socialist ideals of the government were thwarted by a corrupt bureaucracy and wolfish capitalists nexus. Political involvement can not be placed beyond doubt. So many films were manufactured which often ended with a blank and beautiful hope for the starving but responsible citizens. It need not be said that these films were a luxury, meant and made for the new emerging, both in terms of monetary and politically, middle class and the liberal upper class which was constituted of big land lords and old industrialist families. Often these films were nothing more than a eulogy for their self-righteous ego. And even these hopes and promises never moved beyond the silver screen and a big blank occupied the hearts of millions of marginalized and dispossessed. For them India post-1947 was not much different from the earlier regime under which they felt themselves subjugated and oppressed and thought that their resources were plundered by the firangI government. When the euphoria of azadi faded away, they heard the sound of glory, prosperity, and an ages long slogan which could be encapsulated as “ liberty, equality and fraternity.” Assam, Arunachal, Kashmir, Manipur, Mizoram and many such, all stood in admiration of that place which was sending off such delightful words. Some of their own people were already there. Now some more had a desire to go and see that place which was DELHI. They ran, they walked, they swam and, never tired, they came that place which they knew by its words only. They started from one corner and ended at the other. They repeated it vice versa. And many times more. They knew no face nor did anyone recognize their faces. They fell exhausted when a hand came, lifted them and put in a soft bed. They felt it difficult to breathe as the bed was stinking but it was not too bad as very soon all of them fell asleep. In the morning when they woke up, a vast wasteland shocked their sight. Standing on a far spreading garbage heap, they rubbed their eyes repeatedly. It was always the same. They believed that it could not be Delhi. They scolded themselves for such a shameful mistake and started their search for Delhi again. A poet put his imagination on hold for sometime and wrote these lines:
Yadyapi desh swatantra ho gaya, ham kisan mazdoor,
Dilli me hi pooch rahe hain dilli kitni door.
(Though county has got freedom, we tillers and labourers,
In Delhi itself, are asking Delhi is how far.)

Not so funny. But still they make a good show. Now they know and believe that they were in Delhi even then when they believed themselves to be somewhere else and are even now in Delhi. Many more have come to join them. Many of them have died. They know about others who went to other Delhis and got something similar. Nothing has changed. Still they don’t recognize any face, nor are their faces noticed by anyone. They are still waiting to come out of this “they”. Sometimes they deface a wall by writing their names. But it makes no big difference. Just another categorization comes- those who deface the walls and those who don’t. still “they”.

Harmless, harmful all these categorizations worked for sometime but it was improved later as even the apparently harmless had some harmful effects. It was decided on different bases. Morally, economically, in terms of law and order, culturally any many more categories were put and a big list was put. A face or a name may be put in different categories but always identified as some “they”. Treatment also varied from group to group. How near you can go, how distant you should remain, how friendly you can be or how friendly you should be. They were just never told these things. Did they know? They maintain various sorts of grouping, avoid certain places, go to some particular places only, and no more try to be seen or remembered. And now they are blamed for being unseen
And , therefore, treated as non entities which may be harmful at some point of time. Remember, they are always recognized but never acknowledged as such. They are termed outsiders. Outsider of a country, in the country. The age old purpose is gone. It is replaced by other purposes, dreams, and designs. And the frustrations and failures have also changed. One thing is still the same and all know it. Center always keeps and maintains a periphery. An officially unacknowledged but approved or planned policy has continuously worked to ensure that this relation is never broken. Long live these policies and long live our country. All stand clapping, even the different “theys”.

These “men in rags”, in either clothes or morality or culture, are hit political and social tracks. Play any variation, put any figure, it is bound to click. “Men in khadi” and “men in khaki” play the lead roles, only they speak the dialogues and hear as well. “Men in rags” are the peripheral aliens who, sometimes, become or start looking ungrateful or unfaithful or something even more sinister. And the formula works as fine as any “men in black” does in Hollywood or abroad. Box office is still held in the same condition.

LAUGHTER IS DANGEROUS FOR YOUR HEALTH

• A girl hits a boy and cries: how strong like, like some stone. It hurt my hand itself.
• Boy gave an indulgent smile and advised her not to break her hand.
• Girl turned her face. She was also smiling.
. BOY caressed his cheek and made a face.

• Boy: why is it said that women have no brain?
• Girl: because they fool themselves with men.
. boy : and why do they fool themselves with men?
. girl: because they love fooling men.

• One friend: it’s fine now dear. Now do not weep like a woman.
• Another friend: but how? I don’t know how to weep like a man.

beauty and beast

Beauty and Beast
She failed the god that held the world,
Who divided it together
Without letting it fall apart,
And an omniscient fell again
As no word proved enough for her.

It was a commanding beauty,
Standing without a need to stoop,
And a whole world rushing,
Into her gyre of charm;
Even if unwilling.

Crumbled down something,
So far the nature,
As domination and manipulation,
From some long earlier texts,
Striding through ages,
As given to the sexes
The moment they got sexed,
Gendered into plain looking acts,
Something that at a point of time,
Was merely an act of survival.
And she needed it not.

Stood there he who had lost,
What his nature gifted as they say,
Lamenting for not having
Something that he believed was his,
Cursing the age that broke the spell,
That too without his knowing.

A hopeless fall
On the knees,
Bleeding black
But no one sees.

Admiration but not for him;
It came with the wagging tail.
Children clap how happy you see,
Watching the beasts in a jail.

It was dark age,
Things upside down,
as she stood there,
Laughing in her cage.

One cried hopelessly,
One enjoyed this freedom,
Caged she was too,
But she preferred this freedom.

The circus owner ordered,
“keep the lights on”,
And all kept the eyes covered,
Some laughing, some grumbled.

The light was blinding,
But no one saw.
The glass room cabin,
Jerking with laughter
Was hanging above them,
Playing with the keys.

THE NEW LORD WAS LAUGHING.
THE NEW LORD IS LAUGHING.
THE NEW LORD…


Let the clock move.
Let the time change.

suicide

SUICIDE

“Nation is in danger.”
And I sacrificed.
Nation needed my life.

“Humanity is in danger.”
And I sacrificed.
Humanity needed my life.

“God is in danger.”
And I sacrificed.
God needed my life.

I was in danger,
And I wanted to sacrifice.
I needed to end my life
And end the pains of my life.
My starved soul died,
My starving body cries,
A Darkness confounds my vision,
And walls stop my sight.



“He tried to commit suicide.”
A voice whispered to another.
I laughed in my prison cell.
“He has gone mad.”
Another added.

Strange!

is it?

silence.