Monday, January 5, 2015

Ramblings

The man jumped on the crocodile and deftly covered its deadly mouth with his strong arms followed by his assistant who injected a sedative in the thick skin. After a while the animal gave up the struggle and fell unconscious. She was not the one to get disturbed usually by such imageries but this time she was in absolute rage to see the animal lying motionless on the tv screen.

Don’t worry your crocky is alive’ said he, ‘Just sleeping for a while till they fix a small machine on its back.’

The explanation angered her more.

‘Who has given them any right to harass the poor creature’

He retorted, ‘ It is done for its own betterment. They are going to find out how to make it  live a longer and healthier life’

By now she had fire in her eyes

‘Who  gave them the right to decide on its behalf. Isn’t it inhuman? Doesn’t such behavior reek of while man’s burden? Didn’t  all the colonizers project themselves as saviours of the colonized people.?

‘People are different but animals have to be controlled for the  sake of science'

This was going nowhere. There was no use arguing. She got up and went to her room. Lying on her bed her thoughts wandered to her house, how it meant nothing to her but a comfortable dwelling place where  her loved ones lived. But it wasn't so always.
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‘Papa, I want a bathtub and also a tennis court.This small patch of land here, I will grow flowers on it'.

Papa smiled and next she knew he got fitted the bathrooms on all the three floors with luxurious bath tubs.She was very happy. On the day of the pooja she proudly hung an automatic camera in her neck and went on clicking every nook and corner of the house.People as always she was least interested in.
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How she hated radios!. Her parents always had one by their side and they were always listening to the news.Though Iran-Iraq war had cooled down Kashmir was going from bad to worse. Catching some hints from the stray conversations between her parents and their friends she could make out that there was no house to return back to. Her childish heart kept thinking of the bathtub and the flower garden. Meanwhile her father booked a two bedroom flat in Delhi which again they never lived in but probably which gave them a feeling of owning a house.

‘Where will you go now when you return to India this time’ an innocent question by her Persian friend with whom she had discussed everything ranging from films to Bermuda triangle.

She had no answer. Her friend cam e up with an ingenious idea that she may marry one of latter’s cousin, a good looking boy from a very well off family.

‘Your life will be made and you will not have to leave Iran, leave us ever’

For a moment her eyes brightened but soon she realized it would mean leaving her parents and changing her religion, both of which she couldn’t do. She got up suddenly and changed the topic of conversation.

She had suddenly grown-up after the first air raid on Malayer.Their miraculous escape and events following that matured her too early in life. She would often wish the enemy air planes to vanish somewhere in Bermuda triangle. She developed a keen interest in history and philosophy to make sense of this absurd world and constant chaos which was part of her growing up. Yet questions kept arising.

‘Who had given them any right to bombard hospitals? Who had given them any right  to send young boys on the border to simply act as canon fodder? Who had given them any right to force people out of their homes and all this for sake of which science?



4 comments:

Aradhika said...

Very pleasurable and honest especially because I feel that 'she' is you.

geetika said...

Thanks Aradhika, yes me in a different time space :)

rakesh mawa said...

Absurd world! Sisyphus caught fleeting in the mirrors of your being....

geetika said...

Sisyphus! Yes it is him who surfaces on and off from our being and bitterly reminds us of our 'un-agency' as Kundera would like to put it. Thanks!