Indian system makes mockery of gang-rape victim

Is woman modesty so cheap to be outraged? Yes. Does Indian system take a gang-rape so lightly? Yes. Does anyone in the government has a young daughter? No. Is there actually any 'powerful woman' to feel the Janta Janardan's pulse and do something exemplary about it? You must be joking.

It looks our judiciary did not understand what every daughter, sister, wife and mother meant when they supported the anti-rape protests in Delhi. It seems the law ministry never felt the pulse of the public. It seems none in the government could sense what it meant when thousands of children, students, and women along with men were protesting for days in the chilling winter of December at the Rajpath.

It has been proved our Indian system, in entirety, failed to empathise why people of all ages hit the roads despite water cannons and police's brutality to protest. 

Was that all to get barely three years for meting out savagery to a girl, who could be anyone's family member tomorrow (including any minister's or even judicial official's family). Was all those big words of 'exemplary' , 'getting justice', 'tears in eyes' , or 'pained' and every bull shit word to show compassion was meaningless? Shame, Shame, Shame on such a disgusting judgement and the mockery of public sentiments by government. It looks Indians will have to offer a taste of Indian Spring on the lines of Arab Spring to the existing system to ring the bell. Or, the government and judiciary have shown public to resort to street justice from now onwards?????? Who will trust them now?: Sandeep Datta.

Thinking of you...on Friendship Day

On Friendship Day...I think of each and every person who turned my friend and  influenced my life in a special way.

As these have been those extraordinary souls who shaped my life, who inspired me to move ahead despite everything, who supported me in the most distressing times, who felt my pain as their pain and prayed for me in temples and churches for me, who prepared and brought special meals...Rajma-rice, Idli-Chattni, Sambhar in their lunch boxes and  ....Upma and Rasam and even Paranthas... when I was compelled to survive for months on just Maggie and a cup of tea.

I miss all those who always bothered to ask me...Kaise ho....when nobody did...who either played with me: defeating me or let me beat them.. or simply appreciated my performances in badminton to kabaddi...cricket to martial art bouts when I had none to celebrate it with at home or around....

I remember my days spent with those during my first job in a magazine, when we used to work and enjoy meals together.

I miss all those who bunked classes with me after recess during school days for years and suffered teachers' reprimand or punishment in class or assembly with sticks the following day. But they still kept silent about who was their leader in mass bunking...

I cannot forget all those from Bhartiya Vidya Bhavan who worked for days and nights during post graduation and M.Phil days...I also badly miss all those who worked for long hours during textile designing days at J.D.Institute of fashion technology.

I thank all those who are no more colleagues but rather feel as a Family of Friends in my life from ANI..including my core group and ....I miss my lunches and tea-times with my buddy-cum-Punjabi bhra and other selective and affectionate friends from ANI's Print section...and especially those colleagues who are still in touch with me like brothers or guides ....

I value my that very colleague from Assam who is today more than a friend...and another...from the same state...who has just married but did not bother to inform :).

But most importantly ..I remember and thank those Three Idiots...of my college life who believed in me during college days while living in my neighbourhood even when I had lost all hope to even learn Angrezi due to being a government school student who had his education till graduation in Hindi medium....for enabling me to become what I am today. I dedicate my everything to your care, affection and belief in me.

Thank you very much each one of you for letting me realise how a life turns a true celebration of life due to friends.  With Love and Affection: Sandeep Datta.

Celebrate birthday with someone who genuinely loves

By Sandeep Datta 

It's been 19 years since I lost any charm to celebrate birthdays. It happened after I invited a girl but she failed to turn up. The following year she got married to someone she loved. And, I vowed never to celebrate it. 

But the incident that she did not come and spend that day with me on my birthday hurt me so deeply that I lost any interest in it forever.

But later it made me brood why, how and with whom we need to celebrate this day when we were given birth. 

Over the years, I noticed how strangely people celebrate their birthdays with those who are not even bothered for them. It looks so awkward being greeted by the one who have no affectionate feelings. The one who do have such feeling for us need to wait for any particular day to send their greetings or wish us fortune or success in life. 

Especially in offices, the main concern is Oyee PARTYYY! And, it makes it so bad. A person's special day is reduced to just a samosa-chai party or something like that and no concern in at least greeting him with a heartiest joy. 

All these years, my idea of celebrating not just birthday but any special moment kept evolving in different ways due to various influences. 

From fake friends to so called well wishers cum back-biters or unconcerned classmates or colleagues or just anyone who is least concerned about how we are doing the entire year, all pretend being happy for formality to greet. Who likes it?

Instead, the real joy lies in being greeted by those who actually feel for us everyday. I love being greeted by my closest friends, relatives, relatives and even special former or present-day colleagues. Their every word makes my day. I treasure it.

But I feel on one's birthday, it is one's mother who deserves to be wished. Since it is she who needs to feel how special that day was when she successfully delivered us. 

No matter what but the birthday boy or girl can really make the day extra special by thanking her in an affectionate way for the giant role she played over the years in their lives. 

Going to her, asking her to narrate how it's been for her to bring us up could be wonderful. This could be real gift for her that we at least remember her importance.

Is it too much to expect from ourselves to always feel grateful to our parents who  made our existence possible? And, for the kind of role they played in our lives.

Without parents we could have never existed. Isn't it so strange that most of us turn 

so absorbed in our career, studies, enjoyments and challenges that we forget our parents's actual importance in our world.  

Sometimes it looks so saddening to see the way we treat our parents as just ATM machines. Many of us don't mind staying away from them for weeks, months, and at times years for the sake of career. 

Isn't is shameful for many of us who leave our parents to fend for themselves in old age? While celebrating how many us think of spending the evening or the day just with parents and make them feel extra special at least for that day of remembrance? 

After marriage, the possibility of even recalling or making our better half realise our parents' worth in our existence, ends in no time?  

It is difficult to imagine how most of us or today's kids feel when they look at large billboards showing photos of parents bidding goodbye to children leaving for abroad?  What comes to mind when a wife or servant serves food with hardly any love in it like our mothers?

Why do we forget the way parents brought us up, the way they tolerated us despite our stupidities, failures, embarrassing moments?  How they would have managed when we used to be most irritating whole day and did not let our mothers sleep even for an hour after schooltime despite fever or exhausting day? 

Why do we forget who used to dress up us for school or prepare us whole day before or after school time for tests or just for the next day?  What makes us forget that whatever we know today could not have been possible had it not been for our father's sacrifices of his personal enjoyments or mothers' help and support?

Today, many of us may look at our parents like individuals good for nothing or someone who are always poking their nose in our 'personal' life or someone who better mind their own business even if it means waiting for our safe return from college or office on time? Why don't we realise we need not make our parents' old age a punishment to live alone  and suffer in silence?  

But hats off to those who value parents everyday even when they are no more in a condition to be of any help. 

On our birthdays, perhaps, it could be best gift and greeting for our parents if we could spare just a few moments for them when they could feel being our true friends, advisers, and special caretakers or simply our parents and not a burden anymore.

Whom should Afghan women look for help?

By Sandeep Datta

Imagine a female member of our family being forced to give in to a stranger's sexual desire on any given day? How will we react if we come to know that people in our neighbourhood watched as she cried for help. Nobody worth his manhood even blinked his eye and the barbarism happened.  

A large number of Afghan women are suffering immeasurably in their country, for refusing to submit their modesty to the amorous desire of a powerful men or local hoodlums, or saying 'no" to marry their rapists to avoid being added to their list of 'wives', or get blamed for 'trying' to run away with a "man from outside her marriage".

  

This is happening with Afghan women at large. And, nobody is bothering to be a help. Those women look for some divine help, which could come from any country or group who takes the pain to feel their wounds and agony and highlight it. 

Naturally, our mind could be filled with extreme resentment and basic expectation from people to at least dare to raise a voice to prevent that brutality in such a situation. But today there are women who expect this courtesy from us. . 

Yes, us -- the silent members of hugely connected social networking sites; facebook, orkut, etc. We can surely make a difference, if we really want to.  

To any man, even a thought of it could be horribly agonising. For any person with a young sister, daughter, wife or mother at home, this could be a nightmare that he might not even think to be happening with anyone around. 

But then what about the women's suffering it in Afghanistan? Should't we raise a voice for them, if their Afghan government is consistently failing to do so or simply feels 'incapable' due to political compulsions.    

Should this be allowed to happen in a civilised society? Should it be allowed in a world where agencies like United Nations and Human Rights groups exist? 

Remember, a united public is a major force like we watched in the Arab world, where so many government were made to listen to ordinary public. 

The united concern and pointing out on any wrongful act can force powerful countries having friendly relations with Afghanistan to act and deliver. 

It is time we thought beyond our personal lives. Shouldn't people, unmindful of their geographical boundaries, be a voice against injustice being meted out to fellow creatures, living a few hours away by flight, or even in any part of the world? 

If our little initiative can make a major difference in a society's life, why not take it friends? For tomorrow, it could be our turn to be on the receiving end. 

We need to remember we can expect help from others, provided we raised our voice today for others. Isn't it unfair?     

 

How can we be silent when an uncountable number of women are being living a life which can be described nothing less than "horrendus" and "torturous" . 

Let's make a beginning. Let's raise a voice for everyone and anyone , anywhere and everywhere whoever is in need. 

Let's make a difference in other's lives by highlighting others' plight, before expecting others to make it for us.

इंतज़ार और तड़प

लेखक : संदीप दत्ता                                         मई १६ , २०१ ३ 

दी दा रे यार कैसे करें   हम कोई तो बताये …
जो रूठे  हैं उन्हें कैसे मनाये  कोई तो बताये ।

कम्बख्त ये दूरियां बनी ही क्यों थी ,
किसने बनायी ये ..और आखिर बनी तो किस के  लिए?

यक़ीनन दिलों में खंज़र गुसेड कर खौफनाक सी हंसी के लिए ,
नहीं तो और क्या ?

मरहम का काम तो नहीं करती ये निगोड़ी, कलमुही दूरियां । 
ज़ख्मों पर  बाम तो नहीं लगाती ये दुरियाँ

फिर आखिर बनी ही क्यों ये बेरहम, बे ह या, और बेमतलब की ये  दूरियां


वो जिनकी राह तकते तकते थक गयीं हैं आखें , वो जिनके इज़हार को तरसता है दिल
वो कहाँ गम हैं वो कहाँ गु म हैं

रूह काँपती है इधर उनका हाल सोच कर, दुआ निकलती है उनकी खै रियत के  लिए ,

अब तो आँख झपकती ही नहीं, जो नींद आ सके एक पल भी  
फिर दिखते क्यों नहीं अब भी    आखिर वो कहाँ हैं, कहाँ है    कहाँ हैं ...

Revisiting patriotic fervour of Vande Matram

By Sandeep Datta

Indian diversity and its multi-religious character has been a big charm for people across the world. The Indian way of life appeals a lot of Britons and Americans, in particular, since their countries are witnessing a rapidly failure of society at large.

Briton and the US are faced with the challenge of regaining trust of disgruntled individuals. Since these people are falling in the trap of terror groups and targetting their own brothers and sisters.  It looks the governments in these countries now need to do a lot of homework to evoke love among people for their nation.

In this context, the Indian lifestyle and social set up should draw more attention of the western world. More importantly, due to the kind of passion the Indians have for their country. The very sight of national flag evokes a deep sense of respect and pride among people for the country, which regained its freedom from British rule. 

While leaving India in 1947, the British empire left its most discomforting shadow in the form of growing hatred between Hindu and Muslim communities. But it was the sense of nationalism which left a big hope of revival of brotherhood Hindus and Muslims.

Like the religious movements played a vital role in uniting Indians, beyond religion, caste and geographical locations, during freedom struggle, patriotic songs also played a huge role. One of them was Vande Matram.

Originally a poem taken from Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay's 1882 novel Anandamath, it was written as a praise of the motherland and to inspire respect and love for it. During Indian independence movement, the song was a great help in evoking a feeling to unite and fight out the British rule together.  

Today, many countries are facing terrorism, especially from brain-washed locals turning against their governments. And, like others, the Indians, beyond political leaders, need to protect their brotherhood threatened by divisive forces and the policies of appeasing some while depriving the rest. 

One can observe it on various social networking sites, how many youngsters are liking and promoting communal messages. The social platform of such a big scale is at times used to misguide and thus provoke hatred.    

The government needs to have a serious look at it till it gets too late like it has in Britain and America.

But amid everything, there is a big positive role patriotic poems, write ups or songs can play even at such platforms. Provided, the government agencies show interest and explore ways to promote such things beyond occasions like the independence day and republic day i.e. Aug.15 and Jan.26 respectively.

One such method could be to generate love and passion for our national song -- Vande Matram.

There is nothing more saddening that a song of such a great significance during freedom struggle has been given a communal colour.

I wonder how the controversy created by some fundamentalist Muslim preachers over singing of Indian national song Vande Matram being un-Islamic and some of hardliner Hindus forcing it down their throats was even allowed to take place despite government and court's existence.

We need to remember if India needed unity of thought and action till six decades ago, the nation requires it more badly in today's world when our enemy countries are brain-washing groups on the Indian soil. And, at a time, when most of us keep buying China made products and helping an enemy nation's' industrial rise.

Today, the countrymen need to have a strong sense of nationalistic feeling, unity among all beyond personal religious faiths and practices. The magic of patriotism and love for Swadeshi (Indian products) can do wonders.

It holds significance, especially when the country is faced by so many external threats. The anti-India groups and our sworn enemies are spreading hatred and divisions among all of us from inside and outside the country. And, many of us are stupidly giving in to their tactics.

Not many of us are realising we are actually looking fools by falling into the trap of those whose aim is to divide us all by carrying on rubbing salt into old wounds so that they never heal.

It is shocking to see how we, who form such a vast literate society,  are letting our social structure get sabotaged by divisive forces, operating inside and outside the country.   

The hate-mongers and divisive powers that have survived on the basis of communal lines can be silenced through nationalistic feelings. Thus, it becomes more important than ever before that Indians should look at their own motherland with respect and true love. .  

The government too is guilty of doing precious little to encourage and promote the nationalistic fervour in every nook and corner of the country and the world. 

The vote bank politics has compromised the respect for nation and mediums like our national song. It is projected as if by singing Vande Matram, one is towing the line of RSS or BJP or any other Hindu group. Does Bharat belong only to them?

One tends think why shouldn't the nation come first than any other thing? What is the use of that religion if it doesn't value a country, a geographical space of the world, which gave us a big identity, a place to cherish our lie and pursue our religion with full freedom and enjoy life with individuals of different religious faith? 

This also applies to the love of language. Be it Hindi, Urdu, Sanskrit or any other Indian language, every Indian should value it and respect its usage as an Indian language in any sphere of life. 

Be it standing for or singing the glory of one's motherland...through Vande Matram or Sare Jahan Se Acha or Jana Gana Mana..all should be viewed as the ultimate prayer and respect for the Martibhumi, Mitti or, Vatan which has nurtured us. 

Likewise, there should be no hesitation in singing ....Vande Matram! 

For detail on British rule in India...
http://www.infoplease.com/encyclopedia/history/east-india-company-british.html

Sometimes self-inflicted injury is not worth it

By Sandeep Datta

Falling in love despite knowing its consequence is perhaps equally stupid than falling off one's motorbike due to a silly personal decision. 

I felt it Thursday (May 9, 2013)  while going to meet someone in a hurry despite drowsiness of the previous night shift. 

I was heading to Nirman Bhavan, near India Gate, to collect a copy of our property documents from an agent whom I had met a few minutes ago while returning from Green Park office. 

I had just reached home but he called me back. I rushed on the same route in the sweltering heat having taken a glass of water at home. I was sleepy and exhausted already, but had little choice except to go.

It is about 12 km from my Malka Ganj located house to Nirman Bhavan. I was too desperate to get the document so could not delay collecting it on the next day.

Just as I reached the road, which leads to Gole Market area, near Connaught Palace, on the route to Nirman Bhavan, I fell off the motorbike while taking a steep turn at the Mandir Marg traffic signal, near Birla Mandir.

The bike skidded on an oil puddle. The oil had  perhaps dropped out of some passing vehicle just a while ago. The moment my flat hind tyre, already declared risky by mechanics for being old and too much used, touched the puddle in speed, it lost its grip of the road. And, me and the bike went out of control.

It felt as if suddenly someone had taken off the back tyre. The motorbike skidded a bit, making me lose entire balance and falling off on my back with my head banging on the road. 

Thankfully I was wearing a helmet which saved me head injuries as my head hit the road.

A youngster, driving a motorbike just ahead of me, probably with his girl friend, stopped just as I fell. He  helped me park my bike on the roadside and checked my left knee which had made it difficult for me to to walk without difficulty.

He told me about the oil on road and said: "Aapka pichla tyre bhi pura ganja ho chuka hai" (your hind tyre has also turned flat). I realised what led to my fall. 

I was limping and feeling the knee had been badly hurt. Though there was a little bruise, it was paining and had started swelling. I thanked the couple and others and told them to carry on as I could take care of me. 

Since the incident occurred on a traffic signal, all eyes were on me with discomfort. Just as it turned green, all disappeared to my big relief. I checked my belongings. I found the stitching had come off a bit too much from the middle of my new pant. 

It felt embarrassing to feel the underwear being visible. But I decided to carry on, by covering my back with my hanging office bag, despite limping and torn apart pant.

I restarted my motorbike in God's name and went on to meet the guy I was supposed to collect the property documents from. 

But on my way, I realised there was perhaps no other reason for my fall except me. First, I was in a hurry and had turned completely oblivious to my barely alert mind, having being awake for whole night. .

It had turned very important to collect the conveyance deed since I had been seeking it for the transfer of property in mother's name for last few weeks. 

But I did not have the right papers to verify if my brother had already transferred the property in his name or not. 

So, I had made an arrangement with a staff in the land and building department of Nirman Bhavan, the central government office which maintains records of property ownership related documents. 

Sumit, the concerned person working in the information facility centre, was to handover a copy of our documents on the same day in lieu of Rs.3,000 as bribe. Otherwise, I was told it is a weeks-long procedure. 

Having already waited for about three weeks for the same documents from a local court near our house, it had turned frustratingly urgent to get them by hook or crook. 

Finally, I reached his office within next 15 minutes, only to get an incomplete set of documents. But I had no choice to miss it and stupidly took it. 

I reached home and again rushed to meet our advocate in Kashmiri Gate only to find that the document was not worth it.

In the evening, I visited our family physician, who advised me against going to the office at least for that night. I agreed but expressed by compulsion. But my boss, Dr. Rahul Dass, was kind enough. 

He talked to the executive managing director and the editor-in-chief and requested for leave on my behalf. They agreed. Interestingly, I had requested for one night. He issued a public message in the company about me being off for next three days.

After everything, I recalled how I had been forewarned by mechanics to get both the tyres replaced nth time. I took it very casually. Perhaps, a slip on the road was due to take place for a long time. It was just a matter of time. 

But, it all happened because I tried to save money for the time being. I chose to spend money on only replacing the first tyre. It was perhaps not a wise decision.

But not replacing both tyres, except the most urgent one -- the front tyre a month ago, was purely a financial compulsion which I could not explain to wife or anyone but only my mother understood it immediately.  

.

The Kurta

By Sandeep Datta, May 6, 2013

It was Sunday, a comparatively lenient day for most of the people, even in media. The general mood is to enjoy a feeling of half-day off, with friends and foes in office alike.  So I arrived in office, wearing a fluorescent green Kurta instead of formal shirt.

For the last two years, I have developed a special liking for Kurtas. As I have delivered my three public speeches wearing them. Also, Kurtas offer a special or distinct feeling, whether one wears them with a trouser or jeans.

But I never realised it was not just the Kurta but its colour which could evoke so much response. I failed to understand it a few days ago when my news editor, an affectionate and friendly lady, wore a orange coloured-Kurta. 

People termed it 'saffron', a general connotation for being related to Sangh's off shoots instead of the first colour of national flag. But it was actually looking very bright and appealing on that lady who always greets all with a genuine smile. 

Yesterday, it happened to be my turn. I wore the fluorescent green for the first time in office. I had actually bought it for the environment day in our locality. I wore it as it was sweltering heat outside and I preferred looking a bit 'green' like leaves. lols. 

But I was surprised to see the kind of mixed reactions I received in office.

Since the fluorescent colour strikes the eyes, for not being worn usually except by the residents from North East India due to their love for colours, it evoked varied responses. 

A girl from Bihar, the state known for Madhubani art, looked shocked when she said: "Oh MY GOODD!" and a male colleague, in lighter vein, described it to be a "Nimbu" and another one said "Chamkiley". 

But there were others who liked it and put their first reaction to the colour in a quite dignified way -- "Bhai, wah! This is the beauty of fluorescent green. It is not green", "Badhiya hai sahab", "Kya baat hai janab, wadiya hai". 

The day passed on and individuals kept coming and expressing their sense of surprise in different ways. 

But I observed one thing through all the reactions. At times how much it can matter, the way we react to something or about somebody at times. 

While dragging my punctured motorbike to the nearest petrol pump after calling it day in office, I brooded over the variety of reaction I got. 

Though I give a damn to others' sense of liking or disliking when it comes to what I am wearing or doing, I still kept smiling over their responses. 

Having topped in textile designing from J.D.Inst.of Fashion Technology and having learnt over 50 designing and painting styles, I always take pride and mostly appreciated for the scheme of colours I apply in anything. 

So I never allow it to matter whenever someone suggested anything related to 'colours' to me. Rather, I always smile at their limitation to first understand and then react about one's joy of celebrating life with colours. 

If I have to, I take the advise of a selective few whom I value for their choice of colours. But, certainly, not of just any other person.

It surprises me to notice how most of the people fail to observe the natural surroundings. They come into this world and just pass way, hardly ever taking out time to see, feel and enjoy the vast beauty that is spread around our world. 

Perhaps, they need to learn that each colour has its distinct appeal. It is the occasion, the mood, the season, the environment, and, most importantly, the state of mind that influence senses in our selection of colours of anything or the dress for the day. 

Regards

Chaudhary Sandeep Datta

The Attacking Eagles

By Sandeep Datta, April 16, 2013

It's been over a month since I first heard of an eagle attack in our area. It was my niece  who was attacked by an eagle on her eyes. 

The 11-year-old was luck enough that her eyes were not gauged out by the hard and razor-edged nails of the bird. When I asked her why she was attacked, she told me having standing on the balcony on the second floor, close to which is the tree where the eagles have been birth to the offsprings. 

I realised the girl was probably standing on the wrong place and could be doing some mischief. But then three days later I became the eagles' next target. 

While standing on the balcony on the first floor, I felt as if I had been slapped by a sheet, bigger than my mouth's size. For once, I could not realise what hit me. Then suddenly I saw an eagle sitting on the roof's edge at our neighour's house.

I realised it was nothing but that eagle. I smiled and went inside the drawing room from the balcony, feeling it was an improper place to stand these days. 

My curiosity later took me to the balcony on the second-floor where my niece had been attacked. I noticed the eagle had given birth to two baby-eagles. I felt delighted  while keeping my another eye on any possible attack from any side. 

The wooden stick I was carrying with me while standing on the balcony had given me strength to stand there for some time. 

I had made up my mind to finish off the enemy eagles at the earliest. 

My younger sister had even warned me against that, saying how could I kill birds even when they were just trying to ensure safety for their kids in natural way. 

I said I could not risk any child's eyes or harm to any any neighbhourhood child by such freak eagles. But her logic appealed to me and I quite the idea then and there.

The next day I found a beak of an eagle in our park in which a 30-feet tree, which has the eagles' nest, is located. It did not take me long to understand it was nothing but a revengeful act of eagle-parents, attacking to secure their lone baby-eagel in the nest.

I felt sad for the poor parents and left. I returned home and narrated that to my mother who also felt perturbed for the poor eagle parents.

After nearly three weeks today (April 16), I was talking to my neighbour at the first-storey balcony while holding my friend's call in one hand. I was appreciating his child's cricketing skills and enthusiasm. 

Suddenly, something huge hit my face making me duck at once.

It was an eagle once again. The neighbour said it happened so suddenly that even he could not realise an eagle was coming from such a height towards me. I escaped without any major damage except a shock and a feeling of slap over half of my face once again. 

But I turned around and looked up, towards the tree where the nest was. I was stunned to see that the corpse of a grown up baby-eagle was hanging from the thread of a kite. 

I felt very sorry for the poor couple eagles. They tried their best to protest their kids for so long. But all in vain. Even if the humans were not responsible but surely the eagle parents had their natural right to express anguish and spirit to avenge the deaths in personal world.

I could empathise the eagles' pain, having undergone the same experience twice for my children.

MDNIY, a stupid world

By Sandeep Datta

I recently came across a strange world of yoga. I cannot blame anyone but myself for entering into it by my mistake.

It so happened that I was eagerly looking of a change of organisation for quite some time, especially since being married. I chance upon a job opportunity in Morarji Desai National Institute of Yoga (MDNIY), an autonomous organisation under Department of AYUSH, Ministry of Health as Media Consult.

During interview, MDNIY's Director mentioned on three occasions that my role would be of an Executive Director or 'Vice Director' in this organisation. I smiled on all these occasions, thinking it is just a gratefulness of a man who believed I was of that much worth.

I joined this organisaton with quite excitement to witness a world away from stressful news world after a break of over 7 years. I was given a cabin and verbally assured that I was the in-charge of this section called Communication and Documentation section. I was told that I would be working with a lady colleague. My main job would be to take out the pending News Letter and Yoga journal for the institute, as it is required by Ministry to know about the happenings of the institute.

On the very first day I went across the institute with some sense of pride and joy of becoming a part of such fascinating place. The biggest attraction of it being the musuem. But it surprised me to notice everyone here was irritated and disapppointed to the hilt. There were others to whom any serios suggestion about the growth of this institute sounded like another poor and silly joke. They used to laugh away anything I would suggest could possibly take place and add to its much needed popularity.

It took me not much time to realise why everyone was either so scared or had develop a habit of laughing away everything. But what I came across was startling.

They all laughed at one person, the man who mattered the most in this institute---Dr. Ishwar V. Basavaraddi, the Director of MDNIY. At first I was quite surprised to see such a qualified and dedicated sounding person is laughed at by all. But I realised my ignorance gradually.

Dr. I. V. Basavarradi might have be some authority in practicing yoga asanas, but he is actually a person full of stupiditiies. That too of highest order. His very first pot-bellied appearance disapproves him to be the Director of National Institute of Yoga.

He conducts his authority as a schoolteacher in the institute. He views the120-odd students to all professionals working under his authority as shirkers or kamchors or persons who have come to him to learn basics of life and professional expertise.

The fact is he is full strange habits. Not wearing any sweater in the wintry mornings of December and instead wearing that in scorching heat of June is a strange feature, he is laughed at the most. But people in this organisation have been made to live with their finger on their lips. Everyone knows, but nobody speaks.

Humiliation and sense of growing inconfidence is something all from contractual to permanent staff has to live with.

The Director's role in running rather silently hiding the actual working style and happenings are worth investigation here.

The contractual staff is being exploited to the hilt of holding their salaries for three to four months, marking absent or issuing memos to the senior staff for being even five or ten minute late in office, forcing professionals do what is unexpected of them as official work is some of his qualities.

The most deserving are pushed to the margins and insulted on daily basis for no rhyme or reason. Doctors to yoga instructors, to administrative staff to even peons face it all and hence now learnt to laugh it off as the best way.

But under whose shadow such a Director has been given the powers to run a national institute certainly could be a big expose` any day.

I can simply say, MDNIY's Director, the biggest cartoon character I ever came across.

Our Child

By Sandeep Datta

Let’s spare a few moments for that kid who often becomes the central figure for exhailing our frustrations on. This poor child is just about to begin his first venture of life.

 He has dreams of his own. That is what inspires him to try himself for the very first time. His maiden voyage is going to be his first introduction with all the even and odds of a pragmatic life. Let him travel it.

While doing that , we have to put a curb on our intrusive behaviour while allowing him to try something distinctive. Ignoring that,We might spoil his joy of playing the game in his own style.

There is a possibility that we might have not been so romantic about cherishing our struggling days but let him have this romance with hard times. It’s his turn to feel that aroma.

He is trying to make a move to reach somewhere where we would have not even thought of reaching ,ever. May be his society requires that qualification of having traveled something really tough and with a different style. We have to accept this.We have to avoid doubting his method of approaching his destination.He can make it.

Probably, we think our idiot looking kid can never do anything worthwhile without following our guidelines.But, if we really want him to grow up then we will have to let him go on his own approach. 

He can. We have to believe it..

We have to  give him a few chances to let his dreams breath properly. Our trust in his convictions will certainly strengthen his Will power. We should allow him to go on his own, without disturbing him by imposing our outdated guidelines on his creative wits.Let him grow naturally.The life is the real tutor.

Our stress forming intrusive advises disrupt his pace of going further.Our perception regarding child’s success on the basis of just a few marks have no meaning to this computerized world. It grades each individual for his performance but not for his misleading scores of petty exams. 

The time has changed completely and our opinion about a successful child needs transformation. We don’t have to  feel challenged but it ‘s a time to let the new thoughts prosper in our family. This liberty will add to our  modernity in social circles.At least this freshness can come only  through fresh people in our family .Let’s welcome it .

No one can anticipate what our child of infinite intelligence been blessed by the almighty God. After all ,all ideas possess some meaning and purpose.If he shows some eagerness in trying his innocent ideas at a  platform which seems strange to us even then, give him some space to decorate them. 

He needs some time to make his movements take a fine shape.Just the way we need some time to develop our outlook.

 We have to put a pause to our attitude of comparing him to the other children’s brilliance.It’s completely discouraging and  create a demoralizing impact on oneself. Would we justify our own comparison with any legend, done by our own parents when we were claming to be Mr. Right?

Wasn’t that too much for us at that time? Sounds disturbing!  Yes, it happens with everyone and obviously , happening with our child too at present.So,showing our wisdom and maturity, we have to stop this habit.

   May be we are not aware to being a turning point for a child but at the least we can stop ourselves from becoming  an obstruction into our  child’s expedition.

He doesn’t need much from us but just a little affection and acceptance. If we won’t accept him with his all failures or little seeming success at the end of the day then who will? It’s only at this point that he longs for his  own people.

We have to prove our real love by standing on his side when somebody takes cracks on him for his dull shade of personality. He is our own blood. We  just have to believe in him.

He will make it to the top a little sooner or later . He will surely prosper, if not today then some time after.
All we have to do is Just To Keep the Faith!