The power of One

There are times when being a part of something really satisfies you.
Adds to your sense of self.
Makes that tiny lump in your throat feel large enough to choke the tears out of you.
For me one of those moments was last night when I realized that I was apart of one of the few mediums that wasn’t trying to propogate someone’s agenda, set moral high ground.. merely demanding answers..

Answers to questions, every one asked of themselves, especially nonmaharastrain mumbaikars…

Why do I need anyone’s permission to stay in any part of India?
Am I a North Indian before I am an Indian?
Is Mumbai not as mine as yours?
Why does culture of Mumbai feel diluted to some, if we add some of our colour in it?
Why does anyone have to answer for their philanthropy?

‘I am Indian first’ – that was the statement we made, and proudly too.
But listening closely to Arnab’s debate on Newshour made my skin crawl as I heard the ‘gentleman’ from Maharastra Navnirman Sena say, “If I am in Maharastra, I’ll first be a Maharastrian. Outside Maharastra, I’m an Indian first.”

Maybe it was impolite or just plain rude, but the first thought that came to mind was – Sir no matter what you say you are, to me, with these words, you just sound like an opportunist.

It’s what we ‘North- Indians’ call ‘Mauka’-tarians. You change the tag you identify yourself with to fit the situation, which seems most opportune.

Don’t get me wrong, I too am very much the Mauka-tarian. When in Maharastra, I try and speak in the broken Marathi I learnt in my college days. While in heartland of UP, the bhojpuri twang peppers my accent in Hindi. That’s just a way of making people feel comfortable, by mirroring them – pschycology.

Whereas what these so called ‘North Indian haters’ (and I use the term lightly) are trying to do is divide and rule. And I say lightly because it is the politics of convenience, without the courage of conviction, used to incite and create publicity meant to sustain till the next elections

The point is the Marathi Manush see through it?

Or have they too like Raj forgotten, one of the basic rules of the Indian etiquette –Atithi Devo Bhav. Especially since they do consider Amitabh Bachchan, who has lived in Mumbai for 50 odd years, an athithi , that is.

That reminds me of the discussion I had with a colleague who knows the ‘fire starter’ in question told me a couple of days ago. He said,“ At some function late last year, this man told me , watch me in action in 2008, I’ll be on every TV channel and every newspaper.”

Well, if that is indeed thru, then the year has just begun, and the elections are another year away, till then I guess Big B may need to employ an extra person to collect the debris from furtive, media savvy, political mileage gaining, half-heartedly thrown glass bottles. (As another guest on the Newshour mentioned - a news channel was tipped off about the incident that took place early Monday morning at the Bachchan residence.)

What gets my goat – is that I work in the business, have seen murky politics from the ringside and yet , this infuriates me. Perhaps my desensitisation is not complete but I am appalled how someone with no real credentials, can stand up, make jingoistic speech and get acknowledged for them. Raj Thackrey complains that Amitabh Bachchan has not set up a school in Mumbai instead has opted to do so in UP. Hmmm, so having uneducated girls in UP are alright – the state with least amount of literacy. Another insane Q then pops into my mind, if it incenses Raj so much why not set up another school and name it after Ash himself, now wouldn’t that be some tit-for–tat!

But of course, that entail hard work, money and getting out of his comfy armchair for Mr. Raj Thackrey. So, presumably he’ll continuing sitting in his kurshi, after another one of his mindless speeches and then let the politics and the goons for hire, play the drama out for him.

I know my tirade made me digress but coming back to the point, 04.02.08, will be a date that has left an imprint in my mind. It was the day we stood up, took a stand and tried, repeatedly so, to bridge the divide and bring two warring factions together, face- to face, get them to at least say (although a politician’s word is like the rabbit in the magician’s hat… no one can ever trace where it came from and where it went), that they will stop the politics of divide. And we came close, then a hair’s breadth away from , what would have been an ackward kiss and make up, the politicking got better of us as the politicians chose to continue nit-picking.

I’m writing this and posting it on a public forum. I may not have a high wall like big B’s to stop the brickbats or bottles from coming or as defenceless as the taxiwala, the glass of whose windscreen went not only through his taxi but also his livelihood. But there are moments when you say enough and after his actions and statements post Mumbai molestations... I chose to stand up and say ENOUGH!