Now that he sits in a police station as one among many sub-inspectors, my former friend courts people, who he cannot ignore, wink at people, with whom he had understood dealings, and appeared dreadful when he is faced with victims’ families. Years ago, he wouldn’t be indifferent to many vital things in life, and now he can be indifferent to friends, worrying that in this sinking state stricken with violence they could become a burden or perhaps a bunch that would make him do favours without any compensation. If one backtracked and weighed the tw- millio- bribe his parent had arranged for this job, then one would understand why he opted for this versatile personality and how important it is for him to stay in the characters to recover the invested money. Land and gold had to be mortgaged, and understanding the fact that his parent is responsible for a hundred thousand rupee interest one could only sympathize.
The fact that his parent poured in millions for this job troubles him ,and has made him desperate. Out of this state he has become that versatile person, like an experienced thespian who has so much to offer. One day while I was in my sister’s car, we drove past the Kakwa Police Station, then my sister shouted “ Tamo Malem is there, tamo!” as though she wanted me to hear every word. Why would I get off the car to shake hand with an old friend who didn’t take my calls?
Someone asked if the people here grew money plants? How could a state which has nothing in its coffers and what it gets all comes straight from New Delhi and yet it begs for more and more without attempting any economic reforms to accrue revenues of its own? And what’s more disturbing is the fact that two third of the budget is swindled and the desperate rest fight over the leftovers. Each time New Delhi overrides the state's wishes one can see hundreds of thousand people on the streets cursing New Delhi. Well, they could rightfully do that; the bosses also have their rules which the recipient of the money should follow. Just to complete the irony the major swindlers are the underground armed-organizations which holler "for self-determination and freedom for an oppressed people from the clutch of imperial India”, but never desist themselves from pawing on the Delhi budget. One may wonder who actually are these so-called people when they themselves have turned against their own by hurling grenades and shooting when their monetary demands are not met. But those contractors blessed by them and lazy sympathizers of theirs build outlandish houses and flaunt their wealth which originally belongs to an oppressed people and has arrived in their hands through those bleeders.
For those who have the means to ford the swamp have done well and got themselves out; those who can ford but resolved to stay linger roaming about with an aim ; but for those choice less, they apparently have nowhere to go and be allowed to be just alive is more than being blessed. A new mantra for getting rich and staying influential has been inducted: feed those grenade-hurlers at home and court the nasty commandos at your gate and make sure he gets the big contracts through the grenade-hurlers from those fat-arsed engineers and pot-bellied legislators in North Indian kurta. What do people get? Screw the people; they have the an inch-thick asphalted roads that last a month, buildings which take ages to complete and start cracking before they are even whitewashed or the ribbons are cut.
If one were to report that who the hell will take that when the whole system is a party to this malicious, rampant charade! Those in the hills can bludgeon some to death or smash a few heads , perhaps trying to fulfill an ancient bestial practice, or some among them who have been supporting stone-throwers and random-bullet-sprayers on the highways, partly motivated by Highway Man poem, could ambush someone and then would come out to rant against a corrupt system, yet nothing can be done. Where would they go to seek justice so that they can go home feeling in this place no bugger can harm them? Over a beer it was put to a Danish friend how he would deal if an arrogant individual who had been pestering him. He said he would go straight to the police. Here when a person is faced with allegation, he could be sliced by a mob, his house will definitely burn. Yes just for an allegation. An allegation doesn’t make a person a convict, it could be a ploy to slander a person’s reputation, and after all the person should be given the chance to defend himself. But travelling all the way to the court with a lawyer is for the haves, and the police; never think of them. What kind of sincere and impartial action can one expect from that sub-inspector when the bugger himself is constantly scratching his arse wondering how he can recover those millions?
If one were in that place one’s voice would easily be silenced, with a bullet or a grenade at the gate as a warning. Yes, just like that. This is the kind of place people have made, but every now and then they come out and lament the fact that such is the state of the place. What do the rich care? They have enough money to send their kids out, two third of them will never return. The comrades? Give them more money and sing with them the freedom songs at the crematoriums. The mainland Indian wannabes? Let them buy you a litre of Sekmai rice whisky and a healthy duck and vote them in so that they can come back and walk on your backs. The security personnel? Show them fear and crawl before them and yet you should hope of seeing your children in those uniforms one day. So, pull down the schools, universities and tell the teachers to go somewhere. And those insignificant lot; let them know they are allowed to live as long as those above them are pleased.
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