Skip to main content

you and aam aadmi

Do you think you are an aam aadmi?
you are a voyeur in the great playground of this nation. You are outside the playground. You are a consumer. you earn your white collar dollars and spend it on processed snacks and shiny things. and that's the only thing that excites you or the people high up. They are concerned with nothing else about you. Sadly, neither are you.
The only things that hold your gaze are TV and your ever expanding belly. The shining rectangles are narrowing your minds and squeezing out all empathy you've got.
You whine for a while when shit happens. But won't try to affect any change. At this moment you pick up the placards in the name of aam aadmi and walk in circles in your living room. But there's nothing 'aam' about how you see yourself. You are world unto you. That world is small but richly invested with your emotions. That narrow world doesn't entertain logic or differing opinions. Once painted with a favorite color, the personal bubble refuses to be bathed in any other light.
The aam aadmi at the centre of playground has no placards, has no cameras, has no interactive glowing rectangles to play the unfair game. But he is forced to. The game's an abomination. An invention of modernity. No one wants to play it but 'aam aadmi' get sucked in it nevertheless. you don't. you have detergents, cars and deodorants that help you remain out of the boundary of the playground.
But you are a funny spectator. You don't cheer the playing 'aam aadmi'. You jeer at his mouth for uttering sounds in non modern languages. You cover your nose in his direction, for he has yet to learn your perverted notion of shame. You deride his love for his motherland by calling him anti-progress for not letting the big people rape the nations' resources. You cry foul at his increasing standard of living for you see that as a threat to your standards of living. You want him to vacate his home which had been destined to be crushed under the juggernaut called progress. Millenias of waiting for this eventual destruction. That's the aam aadmi's karma.
But if he does move and end up in your backyard, you screech and shout to get him crushed here again under the juggernaut called greed.
Unfortunately for you though, your inaction is as loud and potent as your possible action. Your westwards dreams have gone bankrupt. Like the aam aadmi your karma will be measured on this very land itself. Your backyards will continue to get filled. While you want to impose martial law on the traffic system of India, the aam aadmi is imposing himself on the little oases (more like a giant dung heap the flies get attracted to) you call home. Your inaction is breeding new future battlegrounds right along your water pipelines and conditioned air.
Wish you cared for your children. You wouldn't have let the world go on as it is. They will breathe fear and uncertainty before they would  know what breathing is.
That's your legacy. Fear, uncertainty, hatred, bigotry.
Jana Gana mana will become the anthem of suspicion. your india, my india. There will be a race to un-belong and then to belong. The abstract is already larger than the real people. It will get even more imaginary. What started as a dream of equality, will now become a cynical joke. nation. India. unity.

About time you set your karma right. Neither I nor you want the children's neck at the mercy of red scythe. The only way to that is to play the game alongside the aam aadmi. to enter the playground. That's all you need to do. enter.




Comments

Praveen Maloo said…
I am afraid, I only see it worsening going ahead.. Total exit.
Ajinkya Pawar said…
but that is not an option now. There is no ShangriLa left untouched. The tentacles of modernity with drag you in the shared misfortune, whether you like it or not. The only option is to act.

Popular posts from this blog

Why I repair my shoe

I have 3 shoes. One formal, One sport shoe and another a mix of the two. The last one is particularly awesome, cause of its uniqueness. It looks like a formal shoe, but is as comfortable and flexible as a sport shoe. I bought it for my first job in Mumbai. I was newly rich and was expected to behave like one. I found this gem of pure black leather in a Colaba Causeway showroom. Quite a find. But its been almost two years now and the shoe shows its age. For all its awesomeness, its quite a weak shoe, to give out so early. I have stitched it, got new laces, and strengthened its sole. It doesn't look shiny anymore cause the leather has suffered from a few hostile trespasses. I think, like a man, things too should be allowed to carry their scars. Shiny scar-less men are just so... irrelevant. 

Since childhood, I have been used to using things for long times. Clothes, equipments, shoes etc. I can't just throw things away cause they don't look as good anymore or they don't w…

Reading India through 'Dictator's handbook'

What's the difference between a democracy and a dictatorship?
The book says, not much. India, agrees. Current political dispensation especially agrees vigorously.

"Soma" of hindutva and past glory + divided impoverished amnesiac masses + legitimised attack on individual rights + tremendous wealth shared among few = brave new world of oligarchical India.


Essentially, democracies/ dictatorships etc., are simply variants of the same power dynamic between the ruler, essentials, influentials and inter-changeables.

Interchangeables are the nominal selectorate - the individual voters who have nominal (or cosmetic) power to choose leader - most of us.
Influentials  are the real selectorate - the guys who really choose the leader. In US recently, the electoral college famously went against the popular vote and elected a clown as their president instead. In India, theoretically, the system is a bit better in terms of a wider base of influentials - it could be religious gurus, party…

I am a salmon

I am a salmon. It's been a decade away from my hometown, and yet my dreams refuse to relocate along with me. When sleep hasn't claimed me yet, but neither am I awake, you may find me in Nasik.
My senses fall back into their default states of Nasik when in-between. The space is of my home in Nasik, the sight is of the things around it. I might be hungry and thinking of eating a laddoo and my hands reach out for the steel dabba stacked on an elevated wooden cupboard stuck on the left wall of kitchen. In my mind's eye, I grope for the dabba momentarily as the search yields nothing - poof. the image disintegrates. I am snapped back to reality with a mild jolt. My mind reminds me of the layout in my own kitchen. There is no airborne shelf, there is no steel container, there is no laddoo. It says, go back to sleep. and I do.

_____

I shifted 3.5k km for a less polluted and less dangerous city a year ago.
And all was good. I get to walk and how I love to walk. I am truly happi…