Pride

He has to decide her fate: a disdainful life or a disgraceful death and he has to decide it today itself. He had been waiting for this day for a long time and today he has strengthened himself to speak about this matter to the sinner’s father, an influential person of the village. Although, he knew the futility of this action very well, even then he had chosen to listen to his heart.

It had been insufferable for both father and mother in hiding their 15 year’s old unmarried daughter’s womb. They placed no stone unturned to protect the family pride: bribed a doctor for foeticide , prepared home-made drugs suggested by a distant relative upon whom they were compelled to trust, locked her in a room, told everyone that she had gone to her aunt’s home. The harder they tried to suppress it, the faster the news spread around.

He lives in a typical North-Indian Rajputana village. Pride, ostentation and haughtiness run in the blood of everyone. None needs to exercise these qualities. None can say that illiteracy prevails here. A teen is educated enough for reading pornographic magazines and for hiding it in between his textbooks. An adult is educated enough for evading government taxation, for committing crimes like murder and abduction in the name of politics. Women are also educated here but their education is very centered and limited. They get educated just to make themselves able to get married and to learn new tips for surviving in a married life which is nothing better than a god-damn-hell, and to make themselves realize as soon as possible that they are just basic means of lust for men sovereign society.

Today, he was no more a Rajput, no more obstinate or haughty. His daughter had left no corner for him to show any pride. He tried hard but couldn’t speak anything. His face was set like stone, but the tears welled up in his eyes and ran down his rigid cheeks.

Sinner’s father put his arm around him to comfort him and crafted his every word wisely but his eyes were sly and greedy, “I know my pervert son is also equally responsible for your sufferings. No one can doubt your wisdom and judgment”
Then he wrapped twenty thousands bucks in a newspaper and handed it over to the poor father and asserted further, “You have another daughter and this is just for her marriage.” He paused for a while and added more rigidly, “You are a Rajput. We live for our Pride and die for it. Don’t worry; we will see how to turn it into a suicide case.”

There was an anguish sign of acceptance on his face, acceptance of the obvious, acceptance of the Truth, acceptance of being a poor father of an amorous daughter. But the confusion still lay in a deeper, more secret place.

Why I am on the blogosphere

I am a great follower and I really mean it. Being a true citizen of India, I inherit certain qualities which, I believe, are the very basic birth-rights of a person born in this country. Everyone here is a great follower and I am not an exception. We have nothing original, nothing new, not a single idea except the mathematical concept of zero, discovered around 650AD. Since then, we have nothing new about which we can boast. Starting from our government’s policies, its structure, each idea here is either adopted or stolen form others. It is little bit complicated, whether we follow democracy as in other countries like US, UK (where a person’s social position depends on his merit) or we have communism like in China (or USSR), where a person is restricted to use his merit for his personal gain beyond a given limit. Actually we follow both ideologies; we are democratic as well as communist. But it is not the matter of concern whether we are democratic or communist. We are great follower and great thieves ,story ends up here. Instead of saying follower, I should rather use “sidekick” to describe Indians better.

I read The White Tiger, by Arvind Adiga a few months before .He writes “We Indians are a great follower of Lord Hanuman, a super sidekick of Lord Rama. We are trained to worship Hanuman from our early age and so we are trained to be a sidekick from very tender age.”

(Sorry folks, this is my perception of Indians and if it is causing any resentful displeasure, don’t be reluctant on telling me. Keeping in the mind that I am a great follower, you can think I am a great follower of Adiga too.)

Extending my belief in followership, I decided to be the part of blog-writing rat race. Everyone is writing blog today, everyone is sharing his views on anarchism, monarchism, democracy, communism, music, love, films, his own life etc .Then why shouldn’t I???

So I decided to write my own blog. But what I should write, frankly I don’t know. I don’t know about various “ism” like anarchism, communism, monarchism etc and I don’t even have a good taste of music. I don’t know which song lands up in which genre. I enjoy movies a lot.

So finally I reach to the conclusion of this crap that I know myself better and I should write about myself.