Redemption, Seeking my Forgiveness

I didn't do much when I first heard the brutality
I didn't join the protests
Neither did I sign petitions.
I prayed for strength to help you get through
I watched in disbelief as the politics unfolded
I went into a shell when friends spoke about it.

I shivered and shuddered at the gory details
shared in magazines and newspapers.
I tried to imagine how horrifying it must have been
to go through that night
but it was too painful
just to imagine and I left it there

I felt raw anger at the perpetrators
On many nights, I imagined buying a gun
and shooting them down
just to release my own pain.

I felt guilty
I knew I had failed you
I knew I was as guilty
just as the four who committed the crime
I didn't know how to forgive me
living in my own guilt
day in and day out

Today when my loving girlfriend
drives home late
I am on tenterhooks
till she reaches home safe
I know I have imagined
following her home
just to be sure
she is safe

My world has changed
as your world changed
Yours more brutally
mine more subtly
Change it indeed has.

The verdict was passed yesterday.
They got a punished
Arguably not enough by many
One got a lot less
He happened to be a few months
younger than an adult.
I saw their pictures.
I looked into their eyes
I saw the brutality
I felt a shiver down my spine
as I imagined
how innocent their faces looked
and how brutal their intentions were.

Yet,
I search for the child.
The child that lives
Inside each of them

The child
with a smile to melt a heart
taking their first baby steps
the chuckle
the gibberish as they learnt to speak
the twinkle in their eye
when they discovered the world
the curiosity with which
they embraced the world
the laughter, the chitter-chatter
the hugs and their selfless love.

I saw my 2-year old nephew in them
the confident and wavering first steps
the curiosity to take on life
the fascination with everything new
the obsession with learning, absorbing, soaking in the world.

I wonder when that innocence was taken away
Why that innocence was taken away
Was it the rejection, the neglect, the abuse?
Was it the beatings, the admonitions, the environment?
Where did love replace so much hatred
When did love replace so much hatred
Was there love ever?

I am aching to feel, to understand
their first seed of hatred,
the brutality that took over the sparkle,
the abuse that took over the twinkle,
the beatings that replaced the love.

I hear that child cry
incessantly and infinitely
helpless and hopeless
I see that child die
the day their brutality overtook them
The child cries for help
Is anyone listening?

Words fail me
I attempt to weave their life
meet their innocent child
meet them at that place in their life
where hatred met them
and show them the path of love
I so wish I was there when they made the choice
I so wish I could show them the path of love

I know the child wanted it
the child craved for it
the child needed it
yet we failed.

We failed you
We failed that child living inside each of them
We failed your faith in humanity

I make a promise
Not of justice
but of commitment
to reach children like the four
and fill their life with love
weed out their brutality
Ensure it never makes home again in their innocent heart.

I will
tirelessly
bring love
into the life
of every child
that I possibly can

In that
Nirbhaya
I may find
my forgiveness.

The many hues of Delhi. 11 Aug - 16 Aug 2013

Travel to any new city comes with its share of experiences, funny incidents and adventures and a visit to Delhi last week was no different.

There was falling ill with the infamous Delhi Belly over the famous roadside Gol Gappas. The adventurous late night trip to Karim's at Nizamuddin to try their signature meat preparations and then having to call a cab because friends were worried that we weren't being cautious enough. The thousands of multi-coloured kites donning the skies on Independence Day while young and old took processions in their neighbourhood shouting the same old slogans of Freedom and Independence.

The conscious decision to not spend Independence Day at Red Fort but to be on the streets to capture the flavour of the locals. The blaring bollywood music with item numbers at Khan Market, biting into the Kakori Kabab at Khan Chacha inspite of the Delhi Belly and listening to comparisons with speeches made by PM and a particular CM made up our day. Fights over flag hoisting, slogans against out neighbouring country and watching a man go about his day of labour was the Independence I saw.

Being stupid enough to leave my debit card in the ATM Machine and thanks to the system of messaging my transactions, watching some of my wealth erode as a good Samaritan decided to use my debit card to buy chocolates and gifts before I could block it.

Spending a day in the notorious Delhi rains traveling from Faridabad to Connaught Place to JNU to Airport with a fascinating and very talkative cab driver from Rajasthan, Shiva. He started off complaining about the rain and how he has to take a passenger on a rainy day when all of Delhi roads are jammed and flooded to insisting on having coffee with me at Costa.

This turned out to be the most fascinating part of my day as he shared with me his story, his childhood, his dreams and how we got to where he was in life. Born in a Rajasthani Family, he didn't enjoy school because he found it difficult to understand what the teacher was saying, got into bad company and dropped out of school. Ran away from home to prove that he can be on his own and will come back only when he has done something concrete with his life. Met a mechanic younger than him who tool him in and taught him the trade and also taught him many a life lesson. He then asked him to leave and he has never met his Guru (teacher) ever since. He has gone looking for him but his Guru is nowhere to be found. That experience changed his life and he decided to reconnect with his family, get married and started working as a cab driver. He has no children of his own but has taken on the responsibility to take care of his brother's children as his own. He believes he wants to make the children skilled and talented and that will help them make the right choices in life. He believes education is needed but its not the most critical, skill is a bigger need.

He shared his views on politicians and the government and the general sense of anger, unrest and apathy that people have towards the government. His cynicism that nothing will change and it will just get worse for the poor people was disturbing and also telling of the sentiments of a population that has been betrayed a little too much and too often.

Catching up with many friends and missing some others, spending time being inspired by the finalists at the India NGO Awards 2012-13 and spending quality time with Suchetha as we shared our life together made our trip to Delhi a memorable one.

The many hues of Delhi: Uncleji at Sumitra Inn

It is not often that I travel to Delhi and as with any new place, it throws many new experiences my way. This trip, however, had more than its share of fascinating experiences that has prompted this post.

We stayed at the Sumitra Inn at Safdarjung Enclave, a Bed and Breakfast run by an elderly gentleman who everyone referred to as Uncleji. For some reason, he took a liking to Suchetha and myself and decided to share his experiences and wisdom with us. It was fascinating to hear stories about his marriage, about his wife whom he lost a few years back and about his approach to life. There were many nuggets of wisdom which young people like us sorely need as we take on journeys of togetherness and he was more than willing to share them.

During the early days of marriage, he used to give all his earnings to his wife. His lovely wife requested him that he clear all pending payments and then give her the remaining money. He didn't understand her reasoning for it but after much persistence relented and then one month, paid his bills, cleared his debts and then gave the remaining money to his wife. She then told him that this is the money she now has to run the house and will plan her month accordingly. She had this amazing ability to run the house with whatever money her gave her.

Once, he had to travel to Bangalore on work and wanted to buy a couple of new shirts. When he asked his wife for some money (Rs. 7 in good old days to buy 2 shirts), she flatly refused. He was angry and upset and when on his trip without the new shirts. A few weeks later she gave him the money and he was surprised. He said he didn't need the money or the shirts anymore. His wife explained that in her monthly budget there is no space for additional expenses so she could not give him the money. However, she realized that her husband needs shirts so over the last 2-3 weeks she has saved money little by little and now has the money to give him. He realized that day that his wife would always take good care of the family's needs and trusted all her decisions.

His eyes welled up when he spoke about his wife and we felt deeply moved by his love for his wife in whose memory he put up this Bed and Breakfast so he could continue to live a full life, feel grateful to have her in his life and meet new and interesting people.

Uncleji was deeply committed to service and playing an active role in the community. He helped setup the Arya Samaj centre in the neighbourhood where amongst other things they run a free dispensary for the poor and also get poor people married. During his youth, working at a public sector company, he shared many stories of selfless service. Once, when riding his scooter home, he passed by a construction site where a young lady was trying to take a break to feed her new born child. Her employer was shouting at her for wasting her time. He stopped his bike, went upto the contractor and told him that he will do the work while the mother can feed her child. He told the mother to take her time and filled in for her.

Another time, when he was driving his car, he saw a van ahead of him carrying pots. The pots fell on the road, broke and created a mess. He stopped his car and decided to remove all the broken parts from the road and put them on the side. While people honked and shouted at him, no one stopped to help him. He knew that once he cleared the road, it will ease the traffic and not cause any accidents. In the process, he cut his hand but didn't realize it.

We heard him complain about the growing anger and unrest amongst the people, the failure of the government and at the same time recognize the goodness in people. He belief in being good always and helping where he can and his experience of having understanding and tolerance in a relationship made him very endearing. Recognizing that he came from a patriarchal society, he admonished child marriage, dowry system and did not believe that girls are any inferior to men.

Uncleji gave us a gift of his wisdom and experience and we were grateful that Uncleji came into our lives, even if briefly. I have always believed that people come into our lives for a reason and we might not know that reason then but someday the dots will connect.

Meeting and spending those fleeting moments with Uncleji were definitely a highlight of our time in Delhi.