Is There A Choice?
Last Saturday, Delhi witnessed yet another blast, smearing the calendar with yet another black day. The theatre of savagery was uncannily similar to the previous blast sites –this time, it was a crowded street in Delhi’s Mehrauli. The blasts sheared off a little boy’s head, killed a 22-year old andinjured another 27. The perpetrators this time were different, though the stripe was similar-- at least that is what our keepers of law told us. Yet again we read in the next day’snewspaper that Delhi had bounced back on its feet. What other choice are we left with?
Given the atmosphere that is laden with grief and despair, passing off an incident-free Eid this week was not a small consolation by any stretch. Jamia Nagar, the area where Delhi Police felled two alleged masterminds of the Delhi blasts and questionably lost one of its gallant officers, is uncharitably referred as Chota Pakistan by the neighbouring areas of up-market South Delhi colonies. The shootout and the arrests of three alleged terrorists that followedhas only added to the miseries of this unjustified branding. But the afternoon of Eid seemed to haveerased the agony and infamy of its residents, at least temporarily. It is amazing how a festival can heal so many bruised souls. The narrow streets of Jamia Nagar were full of happy faces, dressed in white, some wearing skull caps-- hugging each other with Eid greetings. I couldn’t resist a smile thinking of a caption that I had read in the 70s in the Northern India Patrika published from Allahabad. A sub-editor with aspirations of becoming a poet someday had captioned a six column front-page picture of men in embraces exchanging Eid-greetings that read: "Muslims go gay, on the Eid-ul-Fitr day".I am sure the sub-editor had no malafide intentions.