The week that was...

There's still a day left to it but I thought it couldn't be too different from the others...

This is how it went:

First the row started by one of the communities (Gujjars) in Rajasthan who want to receive the 'Scheduled Tribe' status to avail of the quota benefits ('affirmative action' in India where Scheduled Tribes (STs), Scheduled Castes (SCs) and Other Backward Classes get preference in education and jobs). It's an extremely politically sensitive issue here (as it would be anywhere in the world I suppose). But Rajasthan, an otherwise rather peaceful state, burned for a week. Some 25 people killed. The Supreme Court of India called it a 'national shame', not that it would've been otherwise if the Supreme Court hadn't said so.

The rioting had spread to the borders of Delhi too. As I took a right turn to my office on Monday, I found the road blocked by policemen. So I took a detour. Some colleagues couldn't make it too work at all. But the work went on without really anyone being able to pay any attention to the events outside. By the evening we heard things were better and that a truce had been called. And as I drove back home I saw remnants of a burnt tyre and thought how disconnected, how uninvolved, I was with what was happening. It's like we're living in different worlds in the same country. And then I got caught up in traffic and forgot about it.

The day before was very upsetting. I reached home at about 10.30pm and saw my sister standing outside the door trying to feed something to one of the stray dogs near our house. He kept crying and couldn't move. It was a pathetic sight. We called some 10 numbers but none had a 24hour service. Finally found a number of some guy who's not studied much but is fond of animals and has learnt 'veterinary things' on the job. He gave two shots of pain killers to this poor little dog and we put him in my car and drove some 35kms away to a hospital. There the vet looked and said "suspected rabies", we'll have to put him to sleep. I asked if he was sure and he said they'll keep him under observation for 2/3 days. By the time I left this duration was being referred to as 1 day and I had a sad feeling they'll put him to sleep the minute we turned our backs. But the dog was immobilized in the lower half and seemed so much in pain that I wondered if that would be better for his own sake. I didn't have the heart to call again to find out what happened...

Last night I picked up a book of short stories in Hindi and read a bit before sleeping. Was reading a Hindi book after such a long time. Was refreshing to take in a new script. Before sleeping I promised myself that I'd swim in the morning today with a friend but all that happened this morning was that I instead swam in a small pool that was new to me; warmed up with funny dances before plunging in; people asked me if they should wear a cap for they had long hair; didn't remember what I answered; found the pool being in the basement was rather dingy and depressing; and finally figured out it was a bloody stupid dream when I started swimming the fly…

Today was rather unexciting except that the weekend feels closer.

Lying on my desk are 'Three Colours Blue' and 'Jeux Interdits', both of which I think I'll be returning to the library without seeing them.

Well somewhere in the middle of nothing I managed to read Amy Tan's 'The Joy Luck Club', which was mesmerising...

Lost in silence...

On the silent mode. And lost forever. Diminishing the otherwise strong faith in the inherent goodness of every taxi-wallah, every auto-rickshaw-wallah, every bus conductor, indeed every soul in charge of, or hanging around, all means of transport my father's been on. He was proud, up until this moment, of having tested this goodness (as a matter of chance, not choice) and happily reporting a positive result at every instance of his mobile-phone unexpectedly finding its way back to him hours after he would leave it 'there somewhere'. It was as if he planned to lose it but loved to find his plans come to naught. And every time my mum and my sister would annoyingly say '…one day it'll not come back ok. You're just lucky some decent guy found it', in a manner that suggested they perhaps prayed sincerely for such misfortune!

I only knew that when it'd finally go (I always hoped it wouldn't but believed it would) the sense of loss would not be borne with a fitting sense of equanimity for the simple reason that he was no longer a creature of the pen and none of those numbers were jotted in any diary unlike in the old days. He rues it now. This time his plan succeeded. My mum's and sister's prayers answered. And it's a joyless moment for everyone. More regrettably, the verdict now is- 'what's the world coming to… this would not have happened in the days of the yore'! Of course it wouldn't have. Who had cells to lose in those days!