The head is now empty....

Dear Reader...

The head is now empty. The incoherent mind that generated all the coherent ramblings is now void.

Coherent Rambling will now cease to exist. Its place will be taken by www.emptyhead.in

Please do visit me at my new home, and also update any links to my blog that you might have.

This journey is not over, I've just taken a new vehicle to travel ahead.

Hoping for your continued support....

Ashish

Hug Me...Sanjay.....

And so it has happened. A government has proved that people very low down in the hierarchy are no better than bugs. Bugs who can be squished anytime, for as little reason as possible.

"A constable who hugged Dutt, convicted under the Arms Act in 1993 Mumbai blasts case, has been suspended while the eight others whose friendly gestures towards 'Munnabhai' of silver screen were seen in a live coverage by television channels all over, will be facing a departmental probe, jail superintendent Rajendra Dhamne said on Sunday (August 26). "

Imagine being a constable serving at a jail in Pune. Being overworked and underpaid for several years. Being constantly used as a personal servant by your superiors. Living a life of nothing, but sheer misery.

And then comes a moment you've always hoped for. Munnabhai himself lands up to serve time in the prison you work on. You are suddenly a happy man. For someone who has only dreamed about movie stars, seeing one in reality is a big thing in itself. Being close to one, is just an outrageous dream come true. You are happy. All your relatives know that the iconic film personality, the original "khalnayak" of bollywood is spending time in your proximity. Your wife boasts about it to the neighbors. You go to work every morning with a smile on your face, looking forward to a day where you'll get a close glance at Sanjay Dutt.

Life doesn't get any better. Sanjay is released on bail. And you, in a moment of sheer joy, hoping to share a moment with the man himself, steal a handshake or a hug. Being the nice man that he is, Sanjay acknowledges.

You are on seventh heaven. You have shaken hands with one of Indian Cinema's biggest star, made Munnabhai himself give you his Jadu Ki Jhappi. You world has come to a stop.

But wait, save the hyperbole. You are going to need it soon. The very next day, you are fired for the very moment of joy you had dreamed of. Now your world has come to a stop.

"However, questions are now being raised over the constable's suspension as Baba Siddique, the state minister for food and civil supplies who has been constantly spotted accompanying Dutt and seen hugging and shaking hands with the actor. Many are wondering if the same treatment will be meted out to the Minister. "

First, let me put out a question. Is hugging, or shaking hands with a criminal illegal? This question is easy to answer. Under the Indian Penal Code, it is not. The next question should be, should Police and law enforcement agencies shake hands with criminals?

Well, this almost sounds rhetorical to me. It is a well known fact that in India, Police very regularly shake hands with criminals. They do more than shaking hands with criminals. There have been instances when the Police have been blamed of accepting bribes and letting criminals go. Cops and robbers do make strange roommates, but then, who'll watch them.

Now enter the minister, who has landed the iron fist on the hand shaking cops. But isn't there a very old saying - People who live in glass houses should not throw stones at others. Criminals and ministers are regular bedfellows, and some ministers actually play both roles with aplomb. States of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar are known for appointing certain ministers only if they have a few murder charges on their heads. So what's new about shaking hands with a criminal anyways?

Apparently, the particular politico in question was upset.

"Sources claim a very peeved Patil ordered an immediate inquiry after he saw visuals of of policemen rushing to greet Dutt at the Yerwada jail which he thought "sent a wrong message" about his force. "

Sending a wrong message? Please Mr. Minister, shaking hands with Sanjay Dutt hardly does that. And what is the right message that you are sending. That if you are a minister, you can shake hands with whoever you want. But if you are a constable, you cannot. That you are peeved when a poor constable gets a moment of limelight, but you do nothing when another minister in the same cabinet as you goes around doing the same?

You can squash the bug Mr. Minister, but you cannot stop the stench of the bug rotting under your foot.

Kudos to Times Now, for picking up the ante. I will hope that your positive journalism spreads across the world of mass media, and saves the job of a few poor constables.

All quotes are taken from this article on the Times Now Website

A blogger's conundrum.....

In the world full of stuff to write upon, what does a blogger write? This is the conundrum that faces me tonight, and I intend on sharing it.

First, let me put down a list of most obvious topics that most "celebrity" bloggers would write about(maybe some have already written about these):

1. 123 - The nuclear deal between India & US. And how the left is reacting to what seems to be right.
2. Sanjay Dutt getting bail from the Supreme Court.
3. The shocking murder of a Mumbai teenager, who was kidnapped, apparently by some "Angel" he met on Orkut.
4. India's great performance in the test series, and even better performance in the first one dayer against England.

Obvious topics done, here are the topics I would usually talk about:
1. Some analysis of a broken heart.
2. Some review of an ad, a movie or another blog.
3. Some random rant about any of the news item above.


Now these are not what I am going to write about. Because I do not know what to write about today. There is so much to write about, but for some reason, I do not feel like writing about any of these. Why? Because there are some days when silence remains the better choice. There are times when words are all powerful, but then there are times when one needs to be silent. Why?

You must be thinking, he's lost it this time! Well I have news for you, I never found it to lose it. Go figure.

60 years...

Its been 60 years today....of being a free country. On the 50th anniversary of Indian Independence, I heard a statement from an old man. He said, "Your generation does not understand the meaning of freedom, because you were born in a free country." Just having entered into my teenage then, I simply ignored the statement, thinking of it to be another rant from an old man. Today, ten years from that day, the importance of this statement is crystal clear to me.

Consider the simplest of analogies. We all take breathing air in and out of our bodies for granted. But what would happen if we spent a few days with the air supply strictly rationed. If every breath of air that we take with so much of ease right now was not so easy to take. That is when we would realize its value, its true value.

Freedom is pretty much the same. We do not know what slavery and oppression is like. We have never seen it in our life, only heard about it, or read about it. We do not know, and maybe we will never know what it is like being ruled by another country, having no say in the working of our own country. Without a right to protest, without a right to even raise our voice, maybe even without a right to write blogs freely.

What if we there were censors restricting our right to speak, write and see?

Of course, it will be a nightmare. And this nightmare will make us realize the value of freedom, the true meaning of being an independent nation that we are now. Maybe then, we will start to take our freedom seriously. And do more than just change our "Orkut" profile pictures to the national flag, to wear saffron, white and green, or to send e-mails and SMSs shouting out "Happy Independence Day".

Maybe we will take a good look at our country, and realize that there are people who are still slaves. Slaves to poverty, slaves to bureaucracy, slaves to illiteracy, slaves to oppression from people with "power".

Remember, our freedom fighters were not selfish. They knew that the freedom they are fighting to achieve will be for the future generations. Remember Bhagat Singh, who gave his life to free the country, but never saw what being free was like. There were thousands like him, unnamed, but who gave their lives for the freedom that we enjoy from the comfort of our air conditioned homes.

Let us free those still under oppression, who are slaves to the system that we live in. Let us do our little bit in making lives of others better.Let us free others from whatever holds them to slavery. Only then will we have lived a free life, only then we will know what freedom means.

Only then, we will be free.

Vande Mataram - I salute you, o motherland.
My ancestors freed you from British Rule,
and though you are free today, many of your sons and daughters are still slaves.
Slaves to ignorance, slaves to poverty,
slaves to the system, slaves to those in power...
Give me the strength to free those under oppression,
and do my bit to see them set free.
Only then, o mother, will you be truly free.
Vande Mataram.....

Embedded below is the best ever tribute paid to the countless soldiers who have lost their lives to protect our freedom, in the timeless voice of Lata Mangeshkar. Listen to it. I am sure if I wasn't able to stir your thoughts, then this will. Jai Hind.

A Random Act of Kindness

Finding a slot to park my car was a tough job. The place that never had more than 5 cars parked in its big parking space had now over 50 cars parked. After a bit of struggle, I find a space to park. As I bend into the rear seat to pick up my novel, I hear a broken voice from behind me. It says, "Bhaiya, aapko marathi aati hai?"(Brother, do you speak Marathi?). Having attended my engg. college in a small, non-descript town on the Maharashtra-Karnataka border, I knew a fair bit of it. So I answered, "Yes". The guy started to talk in Marathi, his eyes full of tears, his clothes ragged and soiled, and his voice sounding tired but relieved. Relieved that it had found ears willing to listen.

"A week ago I came to Delhi with my old parents to meet my brother who works in Gurgaon. But we were robbed on our way here from Delhi, and lost all our money, and my brother's address. We have been running around this city, hungry and thirsty, with no money or means to go back to our village. I don't know what to do. Will you help me, brother?"

I was stunned. First I thought, this is one of those beggars with another of their stories to pull money out of people. Then I noticed the old parents sitting on the pavement, teary eyed. And I noticed the struggle in the young man's eyes, who was forced to ask strangers for help. Something deep down in me told me that this lad was genuine, and so was his story. I wanted to help him, but there was a tiny bit in me that kept saying, "Ignore this guy, how do you even know that he is genuine? He could be another one of those liars that run around in this big city."

I ignored, but I ignored this voice that came from inside of me. The city of dreams was turning me into a person I wasn't, and a person I couldn't be. And I could actually hear in my head the broken voice of this lad, trying to approach a lot of strangers, and being rebuked, rebuffed and kicked off everytime he tried to help his poor parents and himself.

I put my hand on his shoulders, and told him to relax. Then I proceeded to give him a 500 Rs. note from my wallet, and told him to directly go to the railway station, buy tickets for himself and his parents, and head back to his home.

Far away from this city of dreams, that converts ordinary people into uncaring, unwielding monsters. I don't know if I was able to help him enough, I don't know whether he will be safely able to reach his hometown with his parents.

But I know one thing, at least the man from a small town will know that there is still some humanity alive on this planet. And that one day, he might be able to help another person in need.

A person he might not know, a person he might not care about, but a person he will help. Because when he was in need, he was helped!

Just think, how many days have passed since you did a random act of kindness? Helped a complete stranger, maybe helping an old woman cross the road, stopping your car to let the pedestrian walk by, giving a lift to a person stranded in the rain?

Remember, kindness just spreads. You just need to do your bit and pass it on. If the day comes when your car breaks down in heavy rains, you will find someone ready to stop over and help you out. And that will be the day you really appreciate the value of a random act of kindness.