JAANE BHI DO YAARON

FALL OF THE GOLIATH, conte on paper, artist : Soumen Bhowmick 2013.

A land where you can get a plateful of food for Rs.5 only, where women get raped for wearing jeans, where women get burned for dowry but also get worshiped as goddesses, where farmers commit suicide for loans, food rots outside go-downs and on railway platforms, where people get prison for stealing Rs.200 and enjoy freedom to steal crores of money, a paradise where people are killed in the name of caste and religion, where education is inaccessible and booze flow like streams, where jobs are scarce and jobless souls aplenty, where the corrupts enjoy office till the last day on earth and the honest get shot by hired goons, where gratitude for the teacher is unknown, where the planning commission has no plans, where the economy is gone for a toss, where you get caught for smoking in public places but can pee in leisure publicly, where the law itself is lawless, where bribe is the supreme judge, where police himself rape the victim, where every child is living in fear of rape and abuse, where the highest of the office is corrupt, where a tainted leader get Bharat Ratna, where innocent people fear the law and the criminals command their respect, where the court is treated like a concubine, where money is wasted by the same government which teaches austerity, a place which is a heaven for the corrupt and criminals, where the rich can play god and the poor counts its every breath, where bread is scarce and imported wine is cheaper, a janam bhoomi of chamchas and followers of nepotism, where a god man can rape child in the name of religion, where god men or preachers loot the poor common people morally and physically, where tragedy is celebrated by organizing fashion shows, where you have to pay for god ‘darshan’, where terrorism is as common as monsoon, where charity is done to evade the law, where art is treated like a burden by the government, where politicians play Holi with coal, where Common Wealth Games are organized to loot public money, a land where roads and electricity are scarce and non existent in many regions, where the political class have a life of a Maharaja, where the poor still have to sell their newly born for food, where bonded labours roam the fields, where love birds are killed by khap panchayats or parents in the name of caste, where prisoners do graduation but children dropout from schools, where you get corporal punishment in school for asking questions and sometimes get killed also, where you get the license to pollute the rivers in the name of immersion of  idols during festivals, where you spend (eat up) crores of money simply to clean the river Yamuna, where one get arrested for trying to commit suicide, where the tribal women had to drink local booze to lessen her pain for breast feeding (she herself is without food for days) her hungry baby, where people driving luxury cars frown on seeing a child begging and at the same time attend seminars on their upliftment, where burgers are given to beggars but rotis miss their plate, where earning money is a simple case of going to war, where one has to pay thousands in donation in school to make one’s child educated, where education and food is the birth right of every male child and daughters are killed on birth, where female feticide is a routine affair, where religion is bigger than the soul, where the roads of the capital city gets flooded every monsoon and turn up like a lake, where traffic jams and rude drivers are treated like necessary add on, where else you will find corrupt babus and ministers driving huge cars on government money guzzling litres of petrol and diesel and flashing a red beacon, where else you will see no respect for the brave soldiers who die in our border doing their duty for the mother land, where else artists are threatened and their works destroyed for being honest and brave, where else a great artist of the land has to live his last life in exile for painting what already exists and which is the truth, where teachers rape their own students, where the government dump its own people who are victim of a barbaric gas tragedy and help the guilty to escape, a land where gold is supreme and rice is deemed to be rare, where budget time is the horror period for every Indian family, where else you have dogs roaming hospitals wards, where else a ward boy in a hospital practice his hands in operating a patient and in the process kill the helpless soul,  where else teachers are missing from their respective classes and busy freelancing, where children die in schools after having their free lunch all sponsored by the government, where people die due to negligence of fire safety, where judgments by the highest court is treated like mere funnies by the rich and powerful, where the judiciary itself is partnering with corruption, where our political maharajas make enormous promises only to be fooled later, where half the politicians in parliament are actual criminals, where we vote rapists and murderers as our rulers, where you spend millions on cricket and spend a penny for other sports, where dreams of many a talented sportsmen and women die before seeing the light of glory, where a corporate can spend lakhs for its calendar shoot with bikini babes but unable to pay salary to his employees, where you have the most child marriages in the world, where you make law to break law, where you can even buy the heaven by bribing god…well the list is endless, never ending. This wonderful incredible place I’m talking about is the one where on earth I live…INDIA!

This demonic situation persists in India for a long time now. We all enjoy this and are part of it. Being in this mess and chaos is the sublime happiness we thrive on. Otherwise we really get bored by those whistle blowers who crop up some time and ultimately get killed by the rich and powerful of our land. Fools they are, try to justify honesty in their heart with their deeds and words. They bang their feeble head to the thick strong wall of corruption and vices of all colours. Just take a break man, this incredible land of ours is the ‘karam bhoomi’ of the corrupt politicians and the businessmen. Fear of law is a vague thought in their mind. So engrossed they are in looting this place that even death will fail to justify why they don’t die. Volumes have been written on this evil raj of ours, but who cares to react to them. Time is not in our disposal.

Just got into the habit of ignoring the flow of decaying filth of corruption everywhere. One’s views on the state of affairs in India now is like reading stories from the Gotham city, of the Batman series. Batman was still there to save the people of Gotham, but who will save us? Helpless souls take refuge in RTI (Right to Information). But to what good, the corrupt are never punished or tortured. The process to show them their real place takes ages. Once in a while we get to hear some damn bloody politician is behind the bars…then after some time he was let free to roam the wilderness of deceit and evil. The kingdom of corruption is so vast and well guarded in India that no single soul can demolish that. Every prediction of well being and goodness is a complete failure here. The new age Maharajas (politicians) of this cursed land try every trick in their book to keep the people poor and unfortunate. There is no lack of food or scarcity of resources in this land of ours. It’s vast and prosperous, but only for the betterment of the politicos.
They create false scarcity like the one with supply of onions or potatoes. The dude from Maharashtra, Sharad Pawar plays real havoc as a minister of food. He heads the cartels of sugarcane and other vegetable suppliers. They stock vegetables when their is flood or drought and create a fake scarcity in the market and reap millions through black marketing. The owner of Kingfisher Airline had all his wealth and power utilized for clicking semi nude female models for the gorgeously beautiful and expensive new year calendar. All exotic locales are there, with the best photographer to his command. It's an effort worth my appreciation artistically. But needs the money to flow like a waterfall. Meanwhile his employees' of Kingfisher Airline had to let go of their salary for months end, sometimes six months even. One of the employees's wife even committed suicide for being unable to support her son's further education. All the cries and voices of despair fallen into deaf ear of Vijaya Mallya the owner of Kingfisher.

The poor and helpless farmers are always dependent on the rain god’s blessing for their thirsty farm lands. Still following the old method of farming, devoid of new scientific approaches. The officials responsible to monitor their farming affairs is busy making money the wrong way. The BDOs (Block Development Officer) or IAS babus just take things easy. More busy serving their political masters than the people of India. We are a nation followers and not leaders. We teach our generations to serve and not to question the authorities. Serving the British Raj for 200 damn years has mellowed down our very basic societal spinal structure. Our strength of character is now completely loose. It can always be taken for granted by our ever enthusiastic dominant neighbors in a wrong way. They don’t want to miss a single opportunity to bully us now and then. Even the smallest state of Nepal can show us the middle finger and they did that many a times.
This country has many varieties of malice’s. And it’s not that other nations are not touched by all these, only thing is they have a strong social and economic structure to face those short comings. The political class always supports the thriving population of the poor and the poorest of the poor for their own political benefit. Elections are won based on the number of poor and communities. Our political master’s are excellent jugglers of numbers. They know how to make things sound rosy and blessed with just a few damn number games. For the entire year we keep listening that the economy is up or going down...who cares for that even if it’s up, it’s always down for the man on the street. His or her days will be spend in day dreaming of a time which will never be possible to achieve by these brigade of corrupt politicians.

Elections are time to play the fortune changer...KAUN BANEGA CROREPATI. A game every Indian politician is in love with. Before election the fortune of a candidate may be a few lakhs in his bank account bot the moment he steps into the realm of a cabinet minister or even a small time MLA he gains that all time blessing of the electoral process...MOOLAH! His fortune changer works over time to make the dude a real time Maharaja with crores of money in this account. But the best part is his hunger for excellence in making moolah never recedes. His heart always play the favorite tune of the political class...YEH DIL MAANGE MORE. Today we have the naxalite situation in a very grim stage. It all began in the 1960 to 1980 and later on, when the government tried to fuel the development fire on the pyre of poor farmers. The farmers were made to vacate their only valuable possession, their land. Which at least gave them food and shelter. The were not educated and had no other skill to fall back on. So their livelihood and finally the survival of their family throw a difficult question on their face. They sought judgement the way they knew it better, by taking to arms revolution. By becoming a naxalite and ultimately fight for their land and livelihood. The situation is fully instigated by the state sources and they are to be blamed for the situation India is facing. still many Indian corporate and MNC companies are fueling this naxalite problem for their own profit. Farm land is becoming scarce and the poor farmers and tribals are left with no other choice. In some cases the farmers had to sell their girl child for few hundred rupees for a bowl of rice. And ultimately the girl is sold off to brothel in Delhi or Mumbai. The male child had to drop out from school to help his father in earning a living. This cycle of hell goes on and on. The divide between the haves and the have nots is now a grim reality of our life. The social equilibrium is challenged every day in this land of peace and harmony. A bullet for a bullet attitude of the state machinery will only alienate the poor farmers and the tribals. Make them involve with the mainstream development and the question of their survival and well being should be the utmost important policy of our movers and shakers.

The list is endless and a million words will fall to deaf ears to make things better. Decades of frustrated yawns have filled our lives. Possibilities are enormous, but the will to make a change is missing. Dribble your ball on your own to net the goal, that is what needed by every individual in India. Take your stand and let your voice say 'Hulla Bol'.

But for now, let it go friends let it go, JAANE BHI DO YAARON!


By: Soumen Bhowmick, September, 2013.