Wednesday, December 2, 2009
War, rocks and the ruins
Friday, November 20, 2009
Beauties, Bombs and Bengaluru
She has a priceless expression and looks unimaginably beautiful. Her glittering face brighter than the colors of the sunset hiding all the burning sorrows behind; her hairs thicker than that of a evergreen forest and forcefully tied like the way a broomstick is tied; her rolling eye balls matching the speed of the moon revolving round the earth, in a way to attract all the stars in the universe and see the falling stars; her artist-created nose with perfect size and shape; her lips were ready to open out all the words of love to her world; and she is absolutely a gorgeous girl in all possible ways. Everyday getting drenched in the rain showers, smiling at the people around, no matter who did what, and her response would never change even with the inhuman and chaotic behavior of others around her. Anyone is welcome to meet her any time and any day. She is a timeless beauty who observes millions of others who are running out of time. She was born with godly colors and super natural powers. She can bring in smile on any face and she can stop the time for a moment just to make her presence felt. She is not alone. She has her friends. Her friends are in different forms and shapes. Some are very near to her and some very far away but yet very near to her heart. They are all the children of the same creator. A creator! The one who created them is not only a god for them but also he is not-just-a-god for them. No. Not just a god! With such creations, the whole world looks nice, not just nice, but also beautiful. If the world looks at such pleasant and marvelous creations, it would go to a relaxed state even before it realizes what it is.
One day, I saw her and was dumbstruck by her beauty. The world around me stopped at my wrist watch until I moved myself from where I was. My eyes could not believe that such a thing exists and I am bound to see such amazing things. I was totally taken aback by the fact that I missed something all these days. While I was convincing myself that I was not day dreaming, I was really surprised it was not my dream. Feeling good about it, I moved on to see the world.
After such a beautiful encounter with the luck and beauty of sight, there comes the dangerous encounter of my life. It was again unimaginable to the extent that I could not stop myself getting mad. The road I was travelling looked like one hell. It was not like this before. It was a heaven. Heaven it was. I used to see this road full of life and activities. How can it be like this when so many are yet to walk across and live by the road side? I could see the bombshells all over. I could smell the grenade stones. They are throwing bombs. Who is it? Many row houses were smashed and looked like a targeted bomb hit. Many people losing their shelter, crying for peace, calling god, to show some mercy on them. Who will listen to them? Who will give them what they have lost? Very soon it will become a lake of tears and a paradise of sorrows. Bitter memories to take forward and lost hopes on care takers. Why is this happening? At what cost? Life…? I used to walk as fast as a skate board. I used to breathe fresh air from the heavenly beautiful trees. I used to come here regularly even if I miss my regular breakfast. Where else can I go? I unknowingly noticed that tears had splashed my face with bitter sadness and with a non-functional-wiper as a complimentary to my tear showers. And a rage for knowing the reason for this cause shivered all over my body. Before even I got to know, the war was finished. There were many unfortunate people who had to take up the new life of accepting sorrows. With greatest of the greater difficulty, I moved. I moved from one end of the road to the other end. There is no difference anywhere. It was as hell-looked as it hell-looked earlier. And there were still many warriors who were causing destructions. They had no options left but to destroy. They were sent to perform better. It is their life and living mantra. Can I say go to hell being in a hell? I just resigned and moved on hoping all that happens, happens for a better purpose.
Well, for me, the above two events are two different experiences. When I saw the ‘Tribal’ girl’s painting on one of the walls of K R Circle in Bengaluru, nobody could stop me from dancing-in-the-heaven type of feeling. I must say, the artists working for BBMP to create these paintings of various regional specialties are just wonderful. They are making ‘Namma Bengaluru’ look like ‘Namma Bengaluru’. Any visitor or a tourist who visits Bengaluru will feel great to be welcomed into the city by such excellent paintings, which not only reflects but also keeps up high on our heritage and culture. It just feels awesome. More power to all the artists.
But the same visitor or a tourist, even by mistake travels by the Kuvempu road that connects Malleswaram circle and the West-of-Chord road, will feel like walking into a war field with the bomb and grenade shells around. It was an interesting observation made by my good friend Kowshik some days back and that made me think more about this. He beautifully compared it with the war field. He said he used to travel on this road everyday and he feels awkward now to even think about going into the road. And not just awkward, it is a very hurtful feeling to see the destruction caused by the ‘Namma Metro’ work. Many trees being cut, many roads being cracked, many houses being destructed, causing problems for the land owners and having not compensated them well, all these are nothing but devastating.
So, it is our own ‘Namma’ Bengaluru which has both pleasant and destructive effect on the people.
I can only wish for a good time soon!
Srik