They keep you safe for nothing

LOWER-RANK COPS DO BIG CHUNK OF POLICING, GET LEAST ATTENTION

A 42-year-old constable was mowed down when he tried to stop a mini truck driven by suspected criminals in Bharat Nagar in north-west Delhi on Friday morning.

Naresh Kumar Verma’s head was crushed under its wheels, killing him on the spot. Three days earlier, a head constable was shot dead and his colleague injured in an attack by unidentified men while they were investigating a case in Meerut, Uttar Pradesh.

At least 60 policemen — 90 per cent of them constables or head constables — have lost their lives in the line of duty in the last five years. In 2010 alone, 14 were killed.

“God knows how many hours of duty we do in a month. But I can tell you that sometimes, a week passes by before I get to speak to my children. When I reach home late they are asleep, and by the time I wake up they have left for school. In my job as a constable, we consider 16 hours of duty as normal. It is a tough job and even a roadside hawker has a better life then us. We cannot even quit as it would be difficult to get a job at this age,” said a 41-year-old head constable from IP Estate police station.

The grievances mentioned by him are just the tip of the iceberg. A peek into the daily routine of lower rung police officials can only invite sympathy. Constables and head constables cut a sorry figure, and almost all of them seem to hate their job. Why?

Working odd and long working hours, earning low wages, risking their lives, making enemies, receiving abuses from seniors for small mistakes, and serving the bosses’ families while keep their own waiting and unhappy — the 42,300 constables and head constables in Delhi Police are a harassed, stressed out lot.

The police’s job is to maintain law and order and prevent crime. But to attain this objective, reformation and modernisation of the force at the ground level is imperative. Turning a blind eye to dismal service conditions of these men is a grave mistake.

Odd, long working hours

A beat constable wakes up at 6 am and after a briefing at 9 am at the police station, he heads towards his area, where he interact with vendors, hawkers and informers. He checks banks, jewellery shops and important buildings on his beat. He makes a list of doubtful characters, meets resident welfare association members and senior citizens, and carries out regular patrolling at parks and religious places. But there is more to a constable’s day.

He also has to visit the local court if an old case in which he is an investigative officer, along with a senior sub-inspector or inspector level officer, is coming up. Then he is back again in his area.

“On a normal day, we might get a call about a fight between two groups or a pickpocketing case. It takes another two to three hours to investigate such a case and get it registered at the police station,” said a constable posted at Malviya Nagar police station.

He said if a crime happens in his area, his seniors pull him up. “If something big happens, at least five of us have to rush to the spot and we never know how long it would take. No senior is bothered whether we have slept even for an hour,” he said.

Policemen feel that a proper shift system should be worked out for them – like the one they have in Tihar jail. “A good administrator can make this happen,” said a head constable posted at Nabi Karim.

Hardly any weekly offs

After working for long hours,  policemen can’t even be sure of getting one day off in a week. Quite often, their regular weekly off day gets cancelled due to something urgent — a VVIP might be coming to their area, there could be a rally, or a heinous crime.

Public ire

Beat constables are the core of policing. They have to interact with local residents on a day-to-day basis, and often they face their anger. A beat constable posted at Shakarpur police station said, “I was standing near a shop for half an hour. Suddenly, the owner came and questioned why I was standing in front of his shop. He asked me to leave. I left and went to another place. But  within an hour I got a call that a snatching had taken place outside his shop. I rushed to the spot, only to face public ire,” he said.

It's worse when they are posted at a police picket. “When we stop a car to check documents, they straightaway start abusing us and make calls to senior officials in some ministries or in our department,” said a Kamla Market head constable.

Low wages

At the time of joining the force, a constable gets a net salary of between Rs 17,000 and Rs 18,000 per month. Five years down the line, he would get Rs 21,000 per month if he is not allotted a government accommodation.

A shocking part is that they get just Rs 75 as bicycle allowance and Rs 75 for cleaning their uniform. “Not everyone gets a wireless set. Those who don’t have it have to make calls continuously to report to seniors. But we don’t get a phone allowance,” said another constable.

Risk to life

Low wages come with high risk, as recent cases of attacks against policemen show.  “We take risks. We don’t know what will happen on any given day,” said a head constable from Karol Bagh station.

Better facilities

New technology has helped police keep up with criminals. The mobility of criminals has been matched by new patrol cars and advanced communication systems. Analysis of the nature of crimes has allowed police to take preventive measures. But focus is also needed on improving the lives of constables and head constables.

“We are working to provide better facilities for the constabulary. We are building a residential complex with schools, shopping areas and community facilities for them. This is being seen as a huge step that will boost the motivational levels of the force,” said Dharmendra Kumar, Special Commissioner of Police (law and order).

They hurt to escape from pain

A 14-year-old boy killed three women last month in Jahangirpuri over a loan of Rs 50. The incident came as a rude shock to police, lawmakers and residents as well.

The first victim was a 30-year-old woman who had loaned the boy Rs 50 and had informed about his mother about it. The boy stabbed her to death.

 When another woman and her daughter tried to intervene, he killed them too. He was produced before the Juvenile Justice Board and sent to an observation home.

In February, a teenager was held in east Delhi’s Jyoti Nagar for kidnapping and raping a 13-year-old class 8  student of a government school. He wanted to take revenge after she turned down his attempts to start a relationship.

Such cases create a picture of children with an immense capacity to commit brutality. But visit an observation home, and you see their ‘innocent’ face as well.

“I never wanted to kill anyone. I just could not take the humiliation,” the boy who allegedly killed the three women told Deccan Herald during a brief interaction at the observation home.

Seeing him play cricket with other juveniles, it is hard to imagine that he had killed three persons.

However, incidents of minors committing serious crimes in the Capital are frequent, as the official figures show. The number of juveniles involved in heinous crimes like murder, attempt to murder, rape, kidnapping and robbery in Delhi has increased slightly in the last four years.

More juveniles commit crime

According to the National Crime Bureau records in 2010, 160 juveniles were involved in heinous crimes. In 2009, the figure was 157; in 2008, it was 122 children, and only 90 in 2007.

In 2010, the highest number of crimes by juveniles was theft — 81 cases. It was followed by 54 robbery cases, 44 causing hurt, 37 rape and 35 murder. A slight increase is noticed also in the number of children actually apprehended under different sections of the Indian Penal Code. While 627 kids were apprehended in 2010, 584 were held in 2009. In 2008, 520 kids were apprehended.

In 2010, the largest number of juveniles – 139 – were apprehended for theft followed by 93 for robbery, 55 murder and 40 rape. In that year, 20 boys in the age group of 7 to 12 years were apprehended, while as many as 275 were between the ages of 12 and 16 years. The maximum number of juveniles apprehended — 324 — belonged to the age group of 16 to 18 years.

In 2010, of the total number of juveniles apprehended, 169 were sent home after advice, 81 released on probation and placed under the care of parents or guardians, 178 sent to special homes, 27 acquitted and 156 cases are still pending.

Another classification shows that of all juveniles apprehended in 2010, 154 were found to be illiterate, 235 had gone to primary school, 204 attended middle school and 34 had done matriculation.

Of 627 juveniles detained in 2010, 504 were found to be living with their parents, 87 with guardians and 36 were homeless.

Treating them with care

What is worrying police and lawmakers is that an increasing number of juveniles are coming in conflict with law across the country. Child counsellors say such children need to be treated with care.

“They are not criminals. They children also need care and protection,” said Amod K Kanth, head of NGO Prayas and ex-chairperson of Delhi Commission for Protection of Child Rights.

Children commit crime because of neglect by parents, drug abuse, boredom, poverty and negative influence of movies. Some child rights groups have found a link between adolescent crime and family problems. “When these kids face or see financial problems at home, they turn towards crime,” said a senior police officer.

In 2010, the family income of 408 juveniles apprehended was below Rs 25,000 per annum, and 122 had a family income between Rs 25,000 and Rs 50,000 per annum. The family income of 70 juveniles was between Rs 50,000 and Rs 1 lakh.

While 18 of them had an income of at least between Rs 1 lakh and Rs 3 lakh, only six were found to have an annual family income above Rs 3 lakh. More vulnerable Children who have been exposed to violent behaviour from childhood at home, have been victim of abuse or have suffered emotionally stressful conditions in the family, are prone to committing crime.

According to senior police officials, lack of attention from parents can result in children taking the wrong path.

In their search for affection and satisfaction, adolescents often turn to drugs to fulfill their needs. Some take to violence.

Class no bar

But many young offenders also come from affluent families.

“Nowadays, even children from well-off middle-class and upper middle-class families are turning to crime,” said Jeevan Anmol, a social worker. Peer pressure and the thrill they get out of doing an illegal act are major reasons, according to him.
 Child rights activists say good care and sound rehabilitation programmes will help affected kids keep themselves away from crime. They say such programmes are few in the country, and it is very difficult to maintain high quality in all of them.

“The need of the hour is to love children, nurture them and give them strength before it is too late,” said former child welfare committee member Randhir Kashap.

On the day Deccan Herald visited the observation home, a 16-year-old boy said, “Our parents barely manage three meals a day. I did not know that my act would bring shame on them. I will never do it again.”

Rape victims from North-East flee Delhi

Shunned by neighbours people and also by people of their own community, the victims had no option but to leave the city, said Madhu Chandra, spokesperson of North-East Support Centre and Helpline in Delhi.

“All such victims face discrimination at home as well as workplace, apart from having to suffer lewd comments,” said Chandra, citing the example of the most sensational abduction-cum-gangrape of a 30-year-old call centre executive at Dhaula Kuan on November 24 last year

“In around 40 instances of crime against women in the past two years, the police refused to register a case when the victims approached them,” Chandra alleged. And the government’s assurances of relief and rehabilitation remained mere promises. “We approached the government many times seeking rehabilitation of the victims, but no steps were taken,” he said.

Initially, the victims try to cope with their trauma and agony and within a few months, they break down and leave the unforgiving city.

“Like the Dhaula Kuan rape victim, all others too from the contiguous Northeastern states known as Seven Sisters - Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland, Assam, Arunachal Pradesh and Sikkim - called it left after finding neither understanding nor support from neighbours and associates, said Chandra.

Changing residence and workplace makes it worse. The victims gradually get isolated. “Women from the Northeast feel very vulnerable here,” said Chandra.

According to figures provided by the Support Centre, of the total 63 cases of crime against women in last five years - including five rapes, five attempt to rape and 38 molestation cases - all ten victims of rape or attempt to rape returned home without fulfilling their dream of availing higher education or jobs.

Mamta Sharma, chairperson of National Commission for Women, said: “It is sad to know that rape victims had to leave the city. But they never approached us. We generally provide shelters, counselling and rehabilitation programmes for the victims.”

She admitted that victims of rape need a certain level of protection until they are capable of returning to normal life. “Whenever any kind of sexual harassment happens at the workplace, we generally approach the institution and initiate action against the culprits,” she claimed.

Harshita, Gungun and Manthan want to study but govt schools shun the disabled

Sumit Kumar Singh , New Delhi, Jan 7, DHNS:

‘I am not dead yet,’ their grandmother vows to get them admission one day

A lesser woman would have given up by now. For the last three years, 60-year-old Leela Devi has been struggling to get her three disabled grandchildren admitted to a government school, hoping to give them a better shot at life.

Their mother has left the family home – a one-room tenement in a slum in south Delhi’s Govindpuri. The grandparents and their son say she abandoned them because she didn’t care for the handicapped children.

Five-year-old Manthan can’t walk. Gungun, 8, has fits and a mental disability.

Harshita,12, too, is mentally challenged. The three can barely express themselves. And the government schools don’t appear keen to take on the challenge of having them.

Schools say they don’t have trained teachers to meet the needs of special children.

“I have knocked at the door of every organisation and school in the area but they are still shut for us,” says Leela Devi. 

After several attempts and with the help of an NGO, Leela Devi managed to get a Municipal Corporation of Delhi school at Kalkaji in south Delhi agree to admit Gungun.

But there are strings attached. The school wants her to stay with the child while she is on school premises. The school, Delhi Nagar Nigam Prathmik Balika Vidayalaya, made clear if the grandmother cannot stay back, Gungun should not be sent to school. Leela Devi says she has to take care of the other two children as well and if she remains with Gungun she wouldn’t be able to that. Her husband, Ramesh Lohia, takes on painting jobs, their son also hunts for small-time work.

Leela Devi says she wouldn't mind staying with Gungun if the other two are also admitted by the same school – so that she can keep an eye on all three together.

“I am ready to stay at the school the whole long day for my kids but the school is not ready to take them all, saying Harshita is too old and Manthan is too young.” It’s a primary school. “If all the three kids get admission in same school we both, husband and wife, will be there the entire day to take care of them,” Ramesh adds. “But no. They don’t want to give admission to our kids because they can’t speak clearly and they grasp things slowly.” Also, the school wants Gungun to attend only two days a week. Ashok Agarwal, an advocate and member of Social Jurist group, calls the case “plain mockery” of the Right To Education Act by the schools. “Every child whether differently-abled or not has the right to attain education and come to school everyday.”

“This implies that schools have failed to comply with basic rules. Unfortunately, there are no penal provisions under the RTE Act. But there should be one where you can hold the Department of Education and schools accountable for depriving children of basic education and violating child rights,” he says.

As the family talks with Deccan Herald, children from the slum are making their way to their schools. Harshita and Gungun tug at their grandmother, pointing at the luckier kids. Leela Devi takes Gungun in her arms.  “You all will go the school. I am not dead yet.”

G.B. Road – A world of its own

Just a minute drive from New Delhi Railway Station, three-storyed dilapidated buildings with fading paint was on one side of the road which carries a various flashy billboards that says -- G.B. Road, Shradhanand Marg. The street lights after few meters clearly shows that there is market which is closed during night.

The road was filled with speeding rickshaw pullers with two or one commuters. The rickshaw pullers fighting from other for pass. Whenever, a rickshaw stops near the one of these building – two to three men wearing black jackets and having deadly face approach them.

After a minute conversation, they then take them to dark corridors smeared with foul-smelling. As soon as they move, a few teenagers approach them and tries to sell something (condoms). These black jackets men shoo them away.

It was 11 p.m on Friday. The night was cold and foggy. I parked my bike between a few cars after crossing a police check post. As I took out the keys from my bike, two men from nowhere in no time were standing beside me. “Sahib kaisa chahiye (Sir what kind do you want),” said one of them, whose eyes were only visible as he had covered his face with a muffler to save himself from cold..
 
I was at Garstin Bastion (G.B.) Road -- the red light area – of the national capital and these two men who approached me were pimps -- dalals -- in the payroll of wealthier kothas. They were these for customers. I told them to come after ten minutes. But one of them threatened not to stand there. Police will catch you and throw out of the place. Come along with me. We will provide you whatever you want ... North Indian, South Indian, Foreigners, North East... Will also provide you whatever age ... 15, 16, 25, 35... will provide you everything. Will also provide you in whatever rate do you want,” said and put his hand on my shoulder and forcing me towards one a dark corridor. I resisted and asked them to leave.

Standing alone across the road where there is Indian Railways Coach Care Centre, I saw people in bike, cars, rickshaws and on feet coming and going inside the dark corridors with 'these men' to fulfill their carnal desires where bodies are sold for minimum of Rs 250.

Just to find how they operate and where are these khotas, I went towards these dark corridors. The shutters of the shops were closed and as I walked down, I witnesses a few aged women along with two to three these men – pimps -- sitting on a thin, dark staircase between the shops.

One of them, stopped me and asked me to come inside. I again resisted but then just to check out, I complied and entered into the stair and promised to pay them Rs 250. As I climbed, I saw five aged women sitting on the stairs. They asked me to shell out Rs 500. I told them I don't have. One of them, who was later identified as Manju , said give Rs 400 and get inside.

I was pushed inside the dark staircase and one of the aged women was acting as a guide. Then suddenly, there was light a bulb and a hall. One side of the hall was locked with huge iron grills. Women and men were sitting on a sofa and talking to each other. There was overbearing smell of inexpensive perfume, rancid body fluids and oil. A man opened lock and pulled me inside the hall and asked me to sit.

They inquired do I prefer liquor?. I said, “No.” One of them then went inside and called around five women and asked me to select one of them. Wearing blouse and petticoat with loud make up, the women were presented. All the eyes struck on me. There were smiles on their faces but behind that those smiles lies an untold tortured story.

Seeing them, I felt sorry and asked the man, who identified as Umesh, to open the lock and let me out the hall. He replied, “Why have you come here for wasting out our time during this peak business hour.” He opened the door and I with fast steps came climb down the dark staircase to the corridor where a few men were climbing up.

Out a three-storyed dilapidated building, I wondered how these 4000 women, confined in a four-by-six room, became emotionless, unthinking, mechanical sex workers.

One night at a shelter in east Delhi

Sumit Kumar Singh, New Delhi, Dec 17, DHNS:

Erected on a pavement opposite the flyover near the Akshardham temple in east Delhi is a single tent, the only ‘abode’ for people who have no place go in the silent and cold nights in the area.

Tightly packed from all sides and dotted with holes to allow passage of air, the tent was a better and only option for the homeless to avoid dying on the streets in the inhospitable weather.

People at the shelter expected nothing but a place to rest for the night. The three bulbs in the tent shed dim light. Some of the occupants slept blissfully, huddled together for some warmth. Beds were arranged in two long rows with space in between for them to walk. Fumes from mosquito repellents hung in the air. I walked inside the tent and woke up the caretaker who was fast asleep, wrapped in a quilt.

“What happened? Who are you and what do you want,” asked the caretaker who was obviously taken aback at the untimely knock.

When I asked for a bed to spend the night, he indicated to me to sign in the register.“We have to maintain records to show to our bosses. Go and find a place for yourself,” he said.
Standing between two rows of beds, I saw around 26 people on one side and 25 on other.

Some had covered themselves with thin blankets provided by the caretaker, while others used their own torn shawls. The blankets were small, hardly enough to cover a person.

I found a place where I could slip in. But there was no blanket even with holes. I had to wake up the caretaker again for a pillow and a blanket. “There is no blanket... no pillow.

Go and sleep,” he said. I begged him several times, but he was reluctant. “Don't create a ruckus here. If you don’t want to sleep, leave the place, or I will throw you out,” he shouted.

Hearing the holler, a man sleeping close by called me and offered me a shawl he was using as his pillow. It seemed like a luxury in the deprived place to use a shawl as pillow. “Take this and sleep quietly,” said my neighbour, who identified himself as Suresh, a rickshaw-puller.

Suresh explained that they had a few blankets which had been recently distributed. When asked how people could sleep without blankets in such extreme cold, he said, “At least, we save ourselves from cold winds. We have no place and getting a bed is just fine for us.”

Wrapping the shawl, I lied down. Throughout the night I kept shivering like others, but sleep eluded me even as others, immune to extremely cold weather conditions, snored away. It was around 5 in the morning that people started waking up. I asked for a complaint book to register my grievances. The caretaker grabbed me and threw me out, laughing and mocking at me: “This man wants a complaint book, eh!” I left the place for home wondering where would others go.

Jailhouse rock at India's largest prison

Taj Mohammad, a 28-year-old inmate of Tihar Jail here, is serving life term for murder. His fellow inmates recall the time when he tried to commit suicide by banging his head against the iron bars of his cell. Today, they stare in amazement as he belts out songs on his keyboard as part of one of the 10 bands in the jail - a testimony to the success of reforms at India's largest prison.

"Music brings positive energy. And because it can reform the inmates' lives in a big way, we have recently provided bongo, drums, guitar, keyboards and other instruments to them," Neeraj Kumar, director general (prisons) in Delhi, said.

"Music motivates the inmates and uplifts their spirit. We will do a study on the impact of music on them," he added.

Recently, a music room was also set up in every prison in the premises. There are 10 sub-jails inside Tihar Jail, which houses around 10,500 prisoners.

The authorities have also roped in professional music teachers.

Deputy Inspector General R.N. Sharma said: "Ten music experts come to teach the inmates, one for each sub-jail".

All this has struck a chord with the inmates. Not only have they shown keen interest in learning music but have also formed bands - belting out everything from devotional numbers to Bollywood chartbusters.

Pathi Ram, a prison cook, has formed a band called the Cook Band, where he plays the tabla.

Describing a typical day, Ram said his band members - dressed in their striped jail uniforms - play religious songs set to Bollywood tunes.

"The other day we had 20 spectators who were listening to our music," Ram said.

Taj Mohammad said he had come a long way from his days of despair and depression.

"During our recreational time, when I come down to the music room, the whole environment reminds me of some memories that either make me smile or a bit teary. I always wanted to be a choreographer and musician, but life brought me here instead," he said with a faint smile.

"Music changes our thinking process. It takes away our worries and makes us feel like we are not very far away from home. Every day it instils hope in us that we will get justice," said Amit Saxena, 32, an undertrial who has been in jail for the last seven years on a murder charge. He is the music director of a band called Flying Souls.

The music teachers, on their part, are highly appreciative of their pupils.

"Many inmates don't know the technicalities of music, but they have picked up in a very short time. They play instruments wholeheartedly. It is a great experience for me too," said Dinesh Joshi, a music teacher.

There are around 300 inmates learning various instruments.

"They come in groups of five or six for the classes," Tihar Jail spokesperson Sunil Gupta said.

Bal Kishan, who has been in jail for the last 10 years, said: "They (music teachers) visit us thrice a week to teach different musical instruments. The music room is like a fresh breath of life for us".

Dreams no bar for kids at prison play school

 "I want to be a doctor," murmured five-year-old Guddu Kumari, flashing a shy smile and then hurrying to the rest of her classmates resting in the L-shaped play school at the women's prison in Tihar Jail, India's largest prison.

Like Kumari, the other 29 kids at her play school, The Creche, cherish dreams of becoming doctors, journalists, police officers or engineers some day.

Beautifully decorated with colourful posters of cartoon characters on the walls and toys all over, the play school and a nursery at Jail No. 6 is spread out into two huge L-shaped rooms. It houses 39 children, including 10 who are less than two years old.

"The Creche and the nursery are run with the assistance of NGO India Vision Foundation. There are proper recreational and educational facilities for the children," Deputy Inspector General R.N. Sharma said.

The children below two years of age are taken care of by NGO workers and are provided with food, medicine and clothes. "They are kept in a cosy environment, away from the cells," he said.

Children over two-and-a-half years are given education at The Creche. "It is a play school. We provide all the facilities," said counsellor Ruby Gupta.

Looking smart in their uniforms - white and pink checked shirt and shorts, white for boys and pink for girls - the children sit on benches and are taught subjects like Maths, Hindi and English on a white board.

"They are taught while they play," Gupta said.

From 8 a.m. till 5.30 p.m., the children are involved in various activities, which include painting and dance classes. They also watch cartoon films on TV in the play school.

"They are provided breakfast, lunch and light snacks during evening," Sharma said.

Ruby Gupta and Tulika Kiran, counsellors-cum-teachers from the NGO, take care of the children. Two educated undertrial inmates also take a few classes.

Motherly affection sometimes attracts jailed DMK MP Kanimozhi to the children. "She spends some time teaching these kids when she is not away in the court," Kiran said.

The kids are also taken for educational exposure trips across the city.

"They have been taken to various monuments, embassies and gardens in Delhi. These regular visits make them feel they are not prisoners by default and they enjoy themselves," Gupta said.

Education not just helps them aspire to make it big some day but also comes as a big relief to their mothers who want their children to lead fulfilled lives.

"I am happy that my daughter is studying. Seeing your child grow in the jail is the worst thing for any mother, but I know better things are in store for her," said Dolly Agarwal, an undertrial in a murder case.

For the last 16 years, The Creche has served the purpose of imparting education and moral values to kids in the jail that houses 12,000 prisoners, almost twice its capacity, making it one of the largest prison complexes in the world.

"When the child is more than six years, with the consent of their mother prisoner, he or she is admitted in a boarding school with assistance of some NGOs," Sharma said.

So far, 193 kids, who have spent their early days at The Creche, are now pursuing higher studies at various schools and colleges across the country.

"A few of them are doing management studies, journalism and engineering," India Vision Foundation organising secretary Monica Dhawan said.

A few are also preparing for Indian Administrative Services (IAS) examinations conducted by the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC).

According to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), 484 children of convict women prisoners and 1,639 children of undertrial prisoners were lodged in various jails across the country in 2008.

Smoke till the last puff

Sitting on a rooftop under the blue infinite world when I light a cigarette and see the glow in the dark, I feel like that I exist and I am living my life to the fullest. I start believing that I am far away from the mundane life.

Number of people asked: “Why do I smoke?” I just smile at them. I don’t even think of replying them. Lately, I have developed a habit of offering a cigarette to those who put up this dim-witted question. A few of them gave me a furious look as if they are going to kill me. I laugh at their innocence. How ignorant they are? They pretend that they hate smokers in fact they are scared and are low-esteemed.

Technically if we talk, everyone smokes. Some smokes out their family problems; some their tortured emotional life; some their office problems and some, whom I consider are the most courageous people, smoke to enjoy the moment. We smoke a plutonic cigarette to make that moment eternal.

One wants to be rewarded in their life at some point of time. Everyone wants to be patted on the back. Smoking is a reward that we can give ourselves whenever we want. You will ponder: “Why I am saying so?” It’s because when I will finish this article I will reward myself with a cigarette. Whenever we finish an assignment we reward ourselves with a deep puff of the satisfying smoke. It’s a consolation prize. What is wrong in this?

Scientifically smoking is a conditioned reflex. It is a like another course of meal. We smoke after lunch, dinner or over a cup of tea. Smoking introduces holiday spirit into everyday living. It makes all kind of enjoyment one hundred per cent satisfactory.

Sometimes smoking makes me nostalgic. When I take a deep puff and close my eyes, the entire life comes in front of me. My school friends, college buddies, my first crush, the first step, the first mistake, and everything that has left deep mark in my heart revolves in front of my closed eyes with each puff I inhale. I fly from the contentment to intense joy. I become gratified and pull out a few more cigarettes and light it up one by one. The sense to pleasure sees on limits.

Smoking is the best means to communicate and puff out your feelings. There are times when your boss, girlfriend, parents or friends are upset with you and you want to burn out the ill feelings about them and carry on, all you need to do is light a cigarette and forget their words. When your boss says: “You haven’t completed your assignment and you need a holiday what is this?” You are down and shattered as your parents are arriving on the day you were looking for an off. You desperately need a break. Go out and have a fag. You will be rejuvenated and will finish your work efficiently and effectively. I am sure you will convince your boss and if your boss smokes he will understand you problem for sure. Remember those days when your sweetheart says: “I have been waiting for last two hours.” Just have a fag she or he will not say a single word. He or she will not ask for any excuses. The smoke around will quieten the fury and the silence will speak thousands of words. I am sure when you will finish the cigarette she or he will surely give a warm-loving hug.

Lots of my friends, I mean to say: “close friends”, who stood by me during the darkest hour of my life and still invisibly stands beside me to fight with the entire world for me, I met them, for the first time, over a cigarette. I remember a night, the darkest night in my life, when I was surrounded by almost twenty to twenty five goons armed with swords, knifes and handmade pistols, with only one slogan they had: “Handover this guy.” It was sure that they had plans to kill me. My dearest friend bargained my life by placing his head in front of the loaded pistols. He pulled me out from the hands of goons and saved my life. (I owe a life to him). I met this god-like friend over a cigarette outside my college campus. I firmly believe that the friendship made over cigarettes have eternal bonding. This bonding is stronger than any religious, cultural, social, family et al attachment. There are hundreds of examples in everyone’s life. I have learnt the meaning of friendship over a cigarette as I believe and have experienced that the guys and gals who smoke and cleans their heart from selfishness, greediness, jealousy et al and becomes a pure soul. What more to say I met my mentor over a cigarette.

Cigarette is the best way to greet anyone. When I meet someone I simply ask them: “Let’s light a cigarette.” I just cut off the nonsense stuff like hello, hey, hi, how do u do etc. By asking lets light a cigarette he or she straight away understand let’s talk purpose of visiting. Then we go down into serious business of talks. Asking for a cigarette is the best way to start a conversation with strangers. Inviting friends for a cigarette is in itself a very close and touching way to greet and fix a time for sharing good and bad moments with them and having fun. It’s like owning friends, the biggest assets in life. Lighting the cigarette for your friends and bosses is a way of showing respect to them.

A colleague once said that smoking is like having sex with the beautiful lady you have ever imagined. I never understood his seriousness in the statement. I mocked at him. He said: “One day you will surely comprehend with me.” And yes he was right. It was on June 20, 2009. I along with my friends was putting up at Model Town in Delhi at a friend’s house who was making our website. It was around 11 pm. Four of us were busy with the content of our site as we had to launch it formally the very next day. A whole lot of work was there to complete. Sitting on computer and laptops between smokes and cold drinks we were working. We had bought around six to seven packs of cigarettes. We were all confident enough that it will last till morning. At around 1 am, one yelled: “Give me a cigarette.” I replied: “Check it out. It must be at the table.” He again shouted: “All packets are empty.” I replied: “It can’t be. I personally have bought six or seven packets. Check once again. Few of it may be lying somewhere. ” He said nothing. He walked straight away to me and nicely placed all the empty packets on the keyboard of my laptop. We all started looking at each other. I checked at the right corner of the display screen for the time. It was one ‘o’ clock. I screamed: “Where are we going to get it. All the stores are closed and we have to drive to New Delhi Railway Station.” After that there was a pin drop silence in the room. “Now what,” said one of them. I told: “First finish our work and then we will drive to station.” He said: “Fuck off! I need a fag.” I just placed both my hands over my face and said lets go. I too was unable to control the urge for a fag. As we were driving to the station, I saw a security guard. I asked my friend to stop the car. With all the etiquettes one pumps when he or she goes for a date, I in the same manner asked if he has a bidi. He with due respect offered everyone a bidi. As I puffed, I imagined that I was having sex with the most beautiful girl. (I can only imagine as I am still virgin). Thats how I felt. Yes his words were true.....

Where is she?

Wrapped in the wistful fog, I sat down on the mused-pavement for long hoping to figure out the apprehensions arising within me. The sense of agony breezed out every single thought of running away from the chill that was enveloping me. I was precipitating. My hands and feet were numbed. My throat muscles were tightening. I was gasping for breath.

The boundless shadow around my nerve was engulfing my sense of being alive. I was dead yet my brain was unprepared to accept that my soul was steadily escalating between the two worlds: the world which I timelessly enjoyed of being and the world which was as real as of being.

There was complete emptiness around me. I was hallucinating. The words, the smell, the touch, the ecstasy, the agony, the hope, the death, the life… everything was revolving around me. I could not rationalise that I was overrun by the adrenalin rush of a very familiar shadow. I was in mental fist.

I don’t know for how long I was emotionally lying in the pool of much-awaited felicity. Had not the warm droplets came out my screaming-soul through my eyes, I would not have realised that I was still alive. Regaining my being as real, I laid on the mused-pavement on that winter night, though I was numb with cold, till she echoed: “Go home”. I just stand up on my feet hoping to see the person who spoke to me. It was all in vain. No one was there. Not a single soul was visible. All I could see was fog. Everything was completely empty. I just kept asking from myself where, why and how I was there. Where is she? All I could feel and see was fog. I kept asking what happened to me.

I was in complete delirium. I rushed towards the road looking for a living soul who can drive me to my home. Seeing a sign an auto I rushed towards it and asked him: “Would you drive me to Kalkaji?” A man of around forty sitting on a driver seat said: “Hundred Rupees.” I said ok fine lets go…

Media disillusioned

All journals, 24/7 news channels and websites scream on Mumbai massacre with stories meticulously detailing about the terror, fishing out clues and its impact on commoners. They exclusively did their best to provide information to awaken the sleeping masses.

Mumbai under siege; The war continues; Mumbai in terror; The recent audacious attack has broken ‘the spirit of Mumbai’ (now a cliché); India is leaderless, the country leaders don’t have the guts and the vision to handle, to stop or tackle such catastrophe; there were logistic support; Dawood Ibrahim boats were used; politicians are baking their food on this tragedy et al, write leading dailies, but they utterly fail to chalk out realistic remedies to avoid such kind of brazen tragedy, new strategies to handle the situation. They are doing their best and are on their smooth track yet are struck in the ‘Breaking News’ soap opera and TRP and readership fight.

They forget that it was through journals Mahatma Gandhi and many leaders awaken the masses and made India free from British rule. They forget that it’s their responsibility and they are accountable for it. They forget that they are one of the pillars of the democratic system of government. They failed to realise that it’s a war and India is in war zone. They coin new words and phrases, they rush on the spot, they find some exclusive shots and stories, but they forget what they are basically made for?

“I was on the spot. I managed to get a shot of NSG commandos’ para gliding on the roof of the Nariman House. If I hadn’t got I would have been sacked,” said one of my friend, who works in a leading news channel.

“Things are not fine here. Blood is spilled over everywhere and commandos are stilling looking for terrorist at Taj hotel. I have to report to my boss and discuss a story. I will call you later,” said another friend, who works for a leading English journal.

One of the know figure of electronic media was seen pushing his mike in front of traumatised hostages. The army chief had to request media persons to stop telecasting the scenes as the terrorists were viewing television.

Being a journo I feel the pain and the pressure my peers used to go through as news channels and journals can't be blank. They have to show or write about the incidents. They do their best to provide information to the masses. I salute them as I salute to Indian Police force and Indian Army, but things remain to point zero.
After the operation was over, everyone was busy doing post-mortem and investigation of the assault. But none thought to use their so-called journo aptitude to provide logistic and realistic solution of the problem to the failed-government of India.

They have to or else ten years down the line, media will be a brothel house and journo a pimp. Apart from keeping the eyes, the ears and mouth open, they have to intensely speak their mind.

Wake Up! Lets fight terror

“I took the child, I just grabbed the baby and ran out,” Sandra Samuel, 44, told The New York Post. Samuel rescued a traumatised, two-year-old from the clutches of rampaging terrorists at Nariman House Jewish centre in Mumbai.
“As soon as Karkare sir heard that terrorists were opening fire he went in. He wore a bullet-proof jacket before going in but the bullets got him anyway,” a cop said. The martyrs Hemant Karkare, head of Maharashtra’s Anti-Terrorism Squad, additional CP Ashok Kamthe and encounter specialist Vijay Salaskar, laid their life without giving a second thought. Without knowing what they were dealing with, they rushed to the spot to flush out the AK-47-and-AK-56-armed-terrorists, with just revolvers. Not only they, 11 more ATS heroes were killed.
A cop badly hit with a bullet did not stop. The indefatigable cop chased the terrorists, who were killing innocents, with his bastion till his colleagues stopped him and sent him to hospitals.

The National Security Guard commandoes battled the terrorists holed up at the landmark Taj and Oberoi-Trident hotels and the Nariman House till their last breath Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan, a 30-year- old officer who was on deputation to the NSG from the 51 Special Operations Group of the armed forces, showed exceptional courage by laying down his life to save the lives of his fellow colleagues at Taj. Havildar Gajendra Singh, who was para-dropped on the terrace of Nariman House laid his life to save the hostages there. “He was given the task to clear and secure the top floor of Nariman House. He did that perfectly well but chose to go down further. There was nothing wrong in his coming back but he knew that the impact on the enemy is much better when you move swiftly in early stages and he chose just that,” said the senior NSG officer.
The police force have been on duty for more than 50 hours.
These people never thought what would be the consequences. They went, they faced and fought. India had never seen this. The assault was particularly brazen in scale and execution.
It’s clear like crystal that the terrorists can strike any city in the world. This strike signifies that it is second level of terrorism.
“It’s not a terrorist strike but a war,” a very close friend Manish Sharma said, while having a chat
“They can strike at their will and anywhere in India,” said Deepti Bansal, Sharma’s fiancée, while we were at Bharatiya Vidya Bhawan premises at Kasturba Gandhi Road in New adding, “Over 195, 350 injured and 400 NSG commandoes fighting. What it is? The country's financial capital is under siege. It’s a war!”
We have to accept that we are on war! It has begun. We don’t know when and where the enemy would strike. We are not equipped enough to win this. Though our country has third largest army in the world, we are still not capable to fight with the enemies.
Now, there is fear on everyone face. I am not exaggerating the situation, its fact.
The basalt arch of the “Gateway of India”, which greets seaborne visitors to Mumbai and symbolises the departure of British rulers on November 26 witnessed the siege. Only twelve young men aged 20-30 year hold the city for three days. They remorselessly spilled blood everywhere but our honourary Home Minister Shivraj Patil, who attempted to give a blow-by-blow account of the terror attack, said the terrorists "left" the scene of crime before he reached Mumbai. “Before I could reach there, the terrorists who had attacked one of the hospitals, the Cama Hospital, had left. Those who attacked the railway station had also left,” Patil also draw comfort from the fact that not many foreigners lost their lives. “Fortunately, not many foreigners have been targeted,” he said.
Leave aside him for a while, Maharashtra deputy Chief Minister R R Patil said “such small incidents happen” with reference to terror attacks in Mumbai. “Bade shahron mein aise ek adh hadse hote rahte hain. Woh 5,000 logon ko marne aye the lekin humne kitna kum nuksan hone diya . (Such small incidents happen in big cities. They (terrorists) came to kill 5,000 people but we ensured minimal damage),” he said. He does not mind if 5,000 people were killed.
These men are worst than a prostitute. The prostitutes sell their body to feed themselves or their family. They are honest in their approach but these men sell their country for their comfort and pleasure. They will not mind if any nation invades India.
But I see its not they are at fault. It’s us. We choose them. And if any crisis happens we too start talking like The war has begun and we know that and to win this war we have to be on forefront like Sandra Samuel, Hemant Karkare, Ashok Kamthe, Vijay Salaskar, Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan and Havildar Gajendra Singh
Wake up and start acting. Throw this heartedness out of our nation. Lets join hand and walk together. The solution lies in us. In you and me.

I want to break free/ being kids once again

I was in the clouds, madly dancing, running, jumping and shouting; trying to breathe, feel life as it should be, free. The world around me was soaked in misty droplets. I gazed at the green pastures and mountain peaks till my eyes had had their fill. A sense of absolute bliss started soaking in, my mind calmed down. This was Mussoorie's magic effect.
After a year-long cubicle life, I was desperately searching for a break. The concrete, the walled society and the chaos of the urban life were taking their toll. Luckily, two of my school pals came down and we decided to "break free." A quick brain storming session revealed we all wanted fresh air, some adventure and lots of water! The answer, which could logistically fit into our weekend schedule, was Mussoorie.
Early on Saturday morning we took a cab and headed towards the Gateway to the Gangotri and Yamunotri shrines. By noon, we had crossed the sprawling Doon valley and the picturesque city of Dehradun, en-route to Mussoorie. The first glimpse of Mussoorie, the Queen of all hill stations, stunned us into silence. The Raj-era town lazily snuggled in the green paradise of the Shivalik peaks — white roofed houses creating little polka dots on the olive background. It promised a welcome break.
We took to the ascending zigzag road with new gusto towards the honeymoon capital of India. "Mussoorie welcomes you. Have a happy journey," said a signboard as we entered the city limits.
Our first stop was the Mussoorie Lake — a picnic spot situated on the Mussoorie-Dehradun road. The lake, which also has a park with lots of trees, is the favourite haunt of honeymooning couples. A visit here will convince you about eternal wedded bliss.
After that we headed towards Mall Road — the famous shopping paradise. Reaching there, we checked into a hotel and came out for a stroll. A boisterous holiday crowd thronged the shops, buying knick-knacks and woollies. Many were enjoying the glorious views of the mighty Himalayan peaks. It could have been the shopping plaza of any other city except for the soft coverlet of cloud that gave it a dreamlike appearance.
A local pointed out the Camel's Back Road — a must-see — where we went for picturesque views of the Himalayan panorama and its life-like resemblance to a sitting camel. Long walks and a joyride on a horse later, we were ready for our next stop, Gun Hill, the second highest peak in Mussoorie. And how did we reach it? Through the clouds! An exhilarating ropeway ride took us to Gun Hill, where the skies meet the hills. I screamed my till lungs out, my voice reverberating amid the rolling hills. I felt one with nature.
After loitering for an hour, purging our lungs with the fresh air, we started off for the tourists' delight, Kempty Falls. Situated on the Yamunotri Road, Kempty is among the most beautiful and famous falls in northern India. But the magic begins much before you reach the water cascade, right from the moment you curve into the green valley that leads to the fall. The lush green carpet streaked by the silvery fall was hypnotic. There is a ropeway ride to the fall but we opted to walk down, staying as close to nature as we could.
As we were going down, the sound of the waterfall called out, wooing us to hurry up. We couldn't hold ourselves back. We ran down the last few paces till we stood just a few metres away from the water curtain, its drizzle soaking us.
It didn't take much goading for us to tear off our clothes and jump into the small pool that holds the water from the fall for a while before it rushes down with a thundering roar.
The water was chilling. For an hour we frolicked around in the water, splashing, soaking each other, trying to swim, letting go of all adult inhibitions and being kids once again. September, 23, 2008

60 years passed, Ahmedabad celebrates independence

Dusk of that night 60 years ago saw people pouring in from nearby village clusters, from textile mills, businesses and homes on bullock carts, cars, trucks, tongas and on foot.

Enthusiastically, they made their way to Bhadra Fort. By nightfall, the crowd had thickened. All 13 gates of the city were chocked. Still, the influx of people just would not cease. In all, two-three lakh people gathered outside the fort.

When the clock struck 12, a prominent Congress leader, pulled down the Union Jack, which had been fluttering there for 130 years, and unfurled the Tricolour in its place. The tempestuous mob started screaming, shouting and crying hysterically - this was the moment they had been fighting for."The chant Vande Mataram burst out from the hearts of the people and reverberated in the air. People were speechless with emotion at seeing the Tricolour atop the fort. We were finally free.

This was our country now - our India - never to be taken away again. It was the glorious moment of reckoning we had been waiting for. As I turned around, I saw my countrymen, each of us now a free citizen of an independent nation. We looked at each other and wept out of happiness all night," recalls Amba Lal Sriman, a freedom fighter, who was jailed for one-and-half-years from 1942, for hiding the Indian flag from the British police.

"On August 15, 1947, the sun finally set on the British empire in India. It was a heady and tumultuous day in Ahmedabad, then part of Bombay Province. We were delirious with joy. The whole city was illuminated as fireworks lit up the sky. It was like Diwali had come early upon the city," remembers Dhirubhai Thakar, a freedom fighter who was a professor at Gujarat College before Independence, and is now chairman and founder-member of the Gujarat Vishwa Kosh Trust. It was Thakar who had tried to stop police from firing at the student procession in 1942, in which Vinod Kinariwala died for the cause of Independence.

"There was no space to so much as move around the fort. Finally, the long night of suppression was relegated to the past. It was the end of British rule. People went to both Temples and Masjids to pray. In the morning, processions were taken out across the city," Sriman reminisces.

Even today, 60 years on from the defining events of 1947, these powerful memories do not fail to bring tears to his eyes. "It was a moment that caused happiness and shock in equal measure. The country had been divided, and grief was writ large across faces. Mixed feelings prevailed in the city, since people had not come to terms with Partition, which was still a very fresh wound," recalls Thakar.

Published on August 15, 2007 in DNA
Sumit Kumar Singh
Ahmedabad

Vande Mataram

Vande maataraM
sujalaaM suphalaaM malayaja shiitalaaM
SasyashyaamalaaM maataram
Shubhrajyotsnaa pulakitayaaminiiM
pullakusumita drumadala shobhiniiM
suhaasiniiM sumadhura bhaashhiNiiM
sukhadaaM varadaaM maataraM

Muslim organisations are totally against singing of the national song, Vande Mataram. They said that no Muslim student will sing the Vande Mataram on 7 September whether they are studying in Madarsas or on any other schools.

Shahi Imam of Delhi's historic Jama Masjid, Syed Ahmed Bukhari protested the patriotic move of home ministry to pray (I pray to my country not sing for my country) Vande Mataram on 7 September. Following him many muslim personalities too have balked the ministry decision.

The so called leftist who don’t have their own identity and look towards Cuba and Russia to guide them have now got words after relishing power. They left the option to the people. West Bengal Chief Minister Buddadeb Bhattacharya said that each citizen should have the option of singing or not singing the song. Over the issue, he pointed out that he neither supports the BJP stand nor Muslim Law Board. "Even Central rule doesn’t compel anybody to sing the song," says Bhattacharya

On the other hand the chief minister of Tamil Nadu M. Karunanidhi is touching the feet of his secular mentor Abdul Nasser Mahdani of
Islamist People’s Democratic Party to add vote bank of muslim. It’s a tragic tale of our nation that the congress, Left and DMK are nullifying the law by supporting the notorious terrorist like Abdul Nasser Mahdani.

Mahdani is the notorious terrorist that preached fanaticism. He masterminded 1998 Coimbatore serial blasts that targeted Lal Krishan Advani and claimed 58 lives and wounded around 100 innocent citizens. Right now he is lodged in the high-security prison in Coimbatore with 166 co-accused almost of all whom are Jehadis belonging to Al Umma.

It seems that these handful ministers and religious leaders are splitting on us and our country. It is not the muslim community that is opposed to sing Vande Matram. It is the religious leaders who have personal grievances against this move.