Silence of the Lamb

Silence of the Lamb

‘The ‘gallows’ are not only a symbol of death, but also a symbol of cruelty, terror and irreverence for life; the common denominator of primitive savagery, medieval fanaticism and modern totalitarianism’. -  Arthur Koestler

Ordinarily assessing Kasab’s case, there were three options and we chose the one he desired. First, pardon and deport him, he considered earth to be hell. Second, ignore and exile him, shunning him to linger in limbo. Third, hang and bury him, granting him his heart’s desire – Jannat. 

Our civilization has evolved from the horrors of Newgate, where people were strung up for even picking pockets. In 1949, the Federal Republic of Germany and Costa Rica became the first countries in the world to ban death penalty in their constitution. Today, democratic countries have done away with this form of punishment; others still have it existing in the law but do not entertain the option. Capital punishment is used widely in Asia for drug related and war crimes. In 1956, the Indian Government sought the opinion of the individual states on the ‘death penalty’, who voted in favour of retaining the punishment. Later in 1967, the Law commission recommended its retention with a paramount view to maintain law and order. 

The never ending debate - between the abolitionist and retentionists - on the efficacy of capital punishment as a ‘deterrent’, has not been resolved. History supports the failure of deterrence, as stats show no apparent reduction in the crime rate. Prima facie, the penalty of death is likely to have a strong effect as a deterrent to normal human beings; but this concept is not consistent with all offenders, to whom it may have limited or negligible effect. Deterrence is subjective to the offender’s ideology. To us, he was a criminal; to aspiring terror novices, he is an idol they will now try and emulate.

The death penalty is claimed by some to be a violation of human rights, primarily article 3 and article 5 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Many philosophers, social reformers, spiritual leaders have termed this heretic act as barbarous, inhuman and degrading. Ironically this inhuman punishment still exists in the land of Buddha and Gandhi. The man who himself opined, that it was a negation of ahimsa or non-violence, would have been distraught to see his own assassin hanged. His disciple, Gandhian Jayaprakash Narayan says, “The punishment of crime should be aimed at reformation of the criminal and not his extermination.”

Imagine! We pardoned and deported him back to his hometown, letting him begin a new life, hoping he would change. In the words of Victor Hugo, we could have ‘treated evil with charity, instead of anger.’ This mind-boggling initiative would have re-defined punishment and received admiration and condemnation worldwide. Honestly, given another chance, Kasab would choose to live; he was done with the gun. Now, we will never know if he could change.  

A tumor stored in a jar, feeding on our hospitality, deteriorating the economy. A thorn in the flesh: reminding the society of pain and agony. A nightmare in the city of dreams: psychologically haunting the minds of the victims. A waste of printing paper and ink: hogging media limelight, yet throwing nothing away. More importantly, his case was a proof of our ‘unbiased’ judiciary system; the fellow’s fate was sealed by 86 unpardonable incriminations and a charge sheet running into 11,000 pages. For all that he was and wasn’t, Ajmal Kasab had won his race.

Kasab is believed to have taken up this mission only to make his existence more meaningful – to bring dignity to an otherwise poor and uneventful life. He wasn’t a born monster; like every other seamless youth he was in search of an identity, in a brutally indifferent world. This teenager was a ‘spoiled brat’. Amir Iman, reportedly told the Dawn, he wasn’t able to provide his son gifts for Eid and the eighteen-year old stormed out never to return back. A recluse away from home, neither did he dream of spilling innocent blood and haunting the minds of the young, nor did he envision such a rollercoaster ending. He left home in the winter of 2005, feeling emotionally low and a sense of being good-for-nothing.

If Pakistani journalist claims - of his family receiving more money than originally promised - are to be believed, he certainly wasn’t an underachiever. The same useless kid who ran away from his father’s home was soon to make headlines internationally. That forgetful warm night, he cold-bloodedly tore apart lives like a heartless man-eater, before he was taken down in heroic fashion. Not many know that he failed in his chief mission – which was to make his way up to the terrace of CST, picking up hostages on his way. He never got to the top. Although he survived the bullet, he could have faced his own gun and aborted the mission. Stealing absolutely nothing away from the brave men who laid down their lives, I wonder if Kasab entertained the thought of being world famous.

Mistake me not, for romanticizing the convict, but let us theatrically assume  a ‘déjà-vu’ experience took him back in time to his adolescent days, when he felt worthless. Now was a chance to attain that cherished notoriety and selected popularity he had longed for. India didn’t disappoint him – the best meals, the most expensive security, unprecedented media coverage and epically- he was the new poster boy of ‘evil’. An icy un-expressive silence was his trademark pose. Eventually, the idea of being a global hate image soon took a toll on him. Tired of the celebrity status and he began revealing bits and pieces of his life. Journalists and prosecutors thrived on these tales to make the edits juicier and the charge-sheet bulkier. 

Four years of grueling probes, interviews and solitary confinement, but nothing had changed him. He seemed to enjoy every challenge thrown at him. For all the tiresome work and energy spent, some hoped they would witness him struggle and mourn. A spoilsport that he was, Kasab made no farce; as silent as a lamb, he said his prayers and walked the death row with an absolute spiritual calm. He washed his hands clean, leaving our hands stained.  

All those congressmen bragging about their achievement and BJP leaders complaining of inadequate time to organize public celebrations should shut it up. Stop revealing your carnal desires in public and behave like civilized citizens. The only rational reason to celebrate is that we are blessed to be educated, accepted and loved, thus making life worth living. Secondly, Kasab was disowned and ostracized; unlike many political criminals, he did not have the money and goons to tamper evidence; no luxury of friends to keep him hiding underground. Thirdly, we need to sit down and find an alternative to the death penalty. Punishment is an imposition to make an individual a better person. Killing is not punishment, it its murder. Finally, ‘legal murder’ is a mockery of our constitution, our humanity and our spirituality as Indians.

a tale of two 'manoos'

A tale of two ‘Manoos’..  

The city of dreams hasn’t slept of late, waking up to a different nightmare every day. Mumbai had to put up with a series of mood swings last week- festivals, celebrations, blockbusters and the sad demise of two distinctly quixotic personalities. Both were romantics in their own conflicting ways. One taught us to court women, the other dragged them to court. One choreographed theatrical love songs around trees; while the other, histrionically drove away couples from parks and gardens. One made you laugh and cry and carried you to scenic dream lands; the other had ideals and convictions so intimidating, that he censored your dreams.

True, they possessed incomparable personalities and philosophies; yet the film-maker and the cartoonist had one thing in common – their love for art. Every time you felt love was dead, Yashji would script a tale that made you fall in love all over again. In a parallel story, a tiger apathetically claimed his territory and impulsively wrestled anyone who bothered the ‘Maratha manoos’. From a satirical journalist to an alluring maverick, he was both applauded and loathed.

The two employed unrivaled strategies of ‘disaster management’ for the ordinary Mumbaikar. Yash Chopra would sometimes give you over-cooked films, with loosely inter-twined, nonsensical plots. Nevertheless, through this convoluted twist of human emotions and tragedies, he made you forget life’s failures and mishaps. People ambled out of the theatres with an invigorated sense of starting life afresh.  He gave Bombay and the rest of India a chance to escape into a world of fantasies – a world of hope. Bal Thackeray was the ‘hope’ in reality. For many he was a living superhero. People derived strength, pride and security from the man. Logical or nonsensical, he remained committed to his convictions. Compared to Yash’s use of fantastical defense mechanisms, Bala employed offensive strategies to bail the manoos out of their day to day tribulations.

No attendance, no roll calls, yet tens of thousands crawled onto the streets to bid farewell to the Godfather of Maharashtra.  Were they forced to come? Were they just there to witness a once in a lifetime spectacle? Did they come to curse or bless? The roadside rogue would say it was the only entertainment available, with malls and theatres shut down and the city deserted. Now, would every bored citizen would skip their Sunday rest and brave the scorching sun since dawn? Men – police, politicians, patriots – carrying huge stomachs and wearing thick moustaches sobbed like abandoned puppies. It would be stupendous to say the nation cried, let alone to declare that the whole city mourned. But certainly, a little part of Maharashtra did weep.

If Chopra set our imagination on fire and gave wings to our dreams; then Thackeray cut them off and brought us down to earth, pricking the bubbles of reverie that Yash encapsulated us with. Yash empathetically followed his heart; Bala impulsively functioned from his spine. I assume heaven and earth simply needed to maintain the balance, as one followed the other to their blissful abode.

Yash and Bala were followed and revered blindly. Owning a mind so unique, a wit so original, a charisma so genuine and a legacy so rich; their charm that worked on millions will be hard to imitate. In life and death, they had an enviable knack to melt the coldest of hearts. Within their own artistic worlds, they drew seas of faithful fans to theatres and streets. Mumbai is gradually learning to cope with these unseasonal floods. It no longer pours, it is literally rains men!

the **censored generation

The **censored Generation.

Some generations before, a rage of lusty words would probably have invited social wrath and stigma. Friends might have deserted you or branded you a filthy outcast. Today, thanks to the 21st century verbose revolution and excessive media splurge of uncensored material, the license to swear seems to be Én-Vogue!

The utility of F's and B's has grown over the years featuring as nouns, adjectives, adverbs, besides transcending various other figures of speech. Youngsters need not mind their language any more, though there are a few who still consider swearing a taboo. However, collegians today would admit that it’s quite normal and trendy to speak street or slang, especially among groups of their comfort zone.

Few adolescents admit to have forcefully learned the slang, so as to feel a sense of 'belongingness' to the group. It is no longer the anxiety of being cast away as outdated or orthodox that induces swearing, but the slang has just simply become a part of life. If we try to investigate into the campus talk of the yesteryears, adults claim that they never spoke foul.

Comparatively, their so called ‘bad words’, they used during their days, have evolved into meaner and juicier exclamations. Words that they used, like- Donkey, go to hell, eat shit, bloody bugger, idiot are what today’s generation would mellow down as ’cute’ or ‘cliché’.

Darwin was dead right when coined the term ‘survival of the fittest’. New cyber words are invented every day and you can’t afford to be asleep or else you might be left out. Decoding the concise phrases could be a herculean task; therefore young and old find it obligatory to keep up with Vocabulary, lest they find themselves alienated in cyber space. No one seems to be keen on missing out on the cyber revolution; speaking of which, my grand-mother has also got all techno savvy, though she sometimes calls up the wrong daughter and then blames the network companies.

Well with the media came the lazy lifestyle and the SMS culture. It has influenced youngsters so much that teachers find it annoying to make sense of the script, when texting language leaks into the answer sheets. I was recently scolded by a senior professor at the University, for beginning my formal e-mail with a ‘Hey’. Social networking sites and chat rooms have increased the necessity of ‘De-vowel-ed’ words. Greetings like ‘Good morning’ and ‘congratulations’ have stunted in size to just a ‘Gm’ or ‘Congo’. 

Television is the premier source of Information and entertainment. Being a rich reservoir of ideas and concepts, children pick up language styles and accents, thus shaping personalities for good. All broadcasts and channel networks display an obligatory disclaimer that appears at the bottom of the screen stating that the viewer shall write in to complain about any material that is found disturbing. I can’t imagine a housewife complaining about the lousy, melodramatic soaps that inject ideas of hatred and jealousy, ignite ‘saas-bahu’ fights, in turn, destroying simple loving households. I don’t see slothful couched potatoes, who devour on reality shows like ‘Big Boss’, ‘we steal your girlfriend’ and other unbelievable stupidity, complain of their addiction. I haven’t come across school kids protesting against WWE coverage or grumbling about trendy brainwashing advertisements.

I haven’t heard of any politician who has come out to oppose a steamy item number in Bollywood, yet they bark about women not deserving mobiles and strict adherence to dress codes.  Life goes on as long as it pleases the senses and censorship, well that’s subjective to the objects on screen.

The cyber world is a powerhouse of knowledge you could choose to imbibe or ignore. Parents experimenting with ‘child-lock’ for channels are merely playing ‘hide n seek’ with themselves. It is impossible or rather incorrect to withhold or jail youngsters from reality. Agree, there is always an appropriate moment for exposure to certain schools of learning, but then, when is the right time? Many parents are caught napping, as their kids have already shed off their soft innocent skin and grown into rough incorrigible personalities.

Modern day lifestyles and the call for multitasking, makes it inevitable but to reject the vowel. It is no longer something that is forced upon or impressed on a groupie. Connecting to the slang culture comes natural to some. Children in kindergarten know the swear word and there’s no fooling them and adults don’t mind jumping the broom to bridge the generation gap. We need a ceasefire on inter-generational opinions on media influence.  The blame game should end with the acceptance of the fact that change is here to stay, however, learning to respect and be sensitive to others.

On a lighter note, there is no visible threat as such to the English dictionary; but caution is key, especially in formal settings and non-liberal atmospheres. It is essential that a balance is maintained between the slang and the situation. As for the hypocrisy of censorship is concerned; authority figures should remember - the more you blur it, the more you intrigue the audience. Ignorance is not always bliss, since a curious mind is never at peace. 

(GOMANTAK TIMES -NOV 2012)