Darshatha- the visible voice : government

Showing posts with label government. Show all posts

Saturday, 10 October 2020

Chasing Happiness by Juhi Meshram

We often say, “I am anxious”, “I am stressing out”, “ I am so depressed” and what we hear in return, “You will be fine” , “you are worrying too much”, “you are overreacting” etc. We often are considered “dramatic” or “making excuses” to gain attention, sympathy or simply to avoid working. In the past I have been no different than society in thinking this way about mental health. If I am not happy that means I am expecting too much, If I am not focusing then I am clearly making excuses because I actually cannot do it, if I am stressed or anxious then I am overreacting or If I am depressed then I am seeking attention. It doesn’t change until we experience the extremes, let me tell you all about it.

One day I woke up and felt immense pain in my chest, like I was sinking and floating at the same time but not swimming. Something really bad had happened and the event was too much for me to take alone. I waited for two days, I thought it to be a mere sickness or an after effect of crying all night. I wasn’t sleeping. I decided to meet a doc and he asked me how I was feeling and I started crying. I cried so much I had to step out of his cabin to calm myself to normalcy. Looking at my condition I was advised to see a psychiatrist where I was diagnosed with Anxiety disorder.

No matter how much I had claimed of struggling in my life, those were the most dreadful days. There was immense pain in my chest, I used to experience panic attacks when I felt palpitations, deep chest pain and a shrinking void heart. I used to find it difficult to get out of bed, yet sleeplessness was constant. I used to feel restless all day long and my emotions were always hyped. I wasn’t able to focus on a single emotion, a single thought process or a single activity at a time. Nothing was pleasing me and everything was bothering me. I was on medication, slowly I started working out and meditating but with this I was also gaining weight. I was eating good but the grief was too much to make me look good, I had breakouts all over my face and the stress level was so high I just wasn’t keeping it inside. I experienced breaking down before my friends and family, So I started giving more time to art and literature as distractions but these same things which used to make me alive earlier started making me insecure, I lost interest in my job and soon resigned.

Today, It has been 11 months that I am seeking professional help and now I know how serious mental health is. I am not as vulnerable as I was in the beginning of my treatment. I carry myself quite well now. But it has changed me a lot. During covid-19 I have completely taken a break from professional work and pursuing writing and other interests. But I have no regrets because I am doing better. I started educating myself on mental health and mental illness. I started taking every moment seriously. I am more aware about myself than I ever was and I am settled with my priorities being happiness and peace before money and recognition. But it hasn’t changed the people around me. When I say I am feeling pain I am told to sleep and not think about it, If I open up about my condition people label me as attention-seeker and If I say I am doing better but the pain is constant I hear how I am adapting this lazy nature and don’t want to get better. My own mother called me weak-hearted, my friends complained of my changed behaviour and involvement in their lives and my brother called me mad. It doesn’t mean they aren’t caring for me or not supporting me, it just means they are not ready to change their mindset towards mental illness.

Let me give you a bit of what I have understood with my experience so far,

-If you think you aren’t happy just stop! Take a break and ask yourself why.

-If you see any behavioural, emotional, actional changes in yourself or in your people take it seriously.

-Listen to people in such conditions and be supportive.

-You aren’t crazy if you are seeking professional help, you are just ill and you are going to be better.

-Medical help is not everything, personal and social positivity affects the treatment a lot.

- No matter how much you educate yourself about mental illness, there are always people who think you are weak and making excuses.

-It’s not your job to educate them, just say yes and move forward.

-There are so many other types of mental illness than anxiety like Clinical Depression, Bipolar Disorder, Dementia,ADHD, Schizophrenia, OCD, Autism, PTSD and every one of them needs equal attention.

-Feeling down, unfocused, excessively emotional, tired,detached, short tempered, delusional, sleepless, irregul in eating, chnaged sex drive, violent, angry or suicidal is very normal if you are mentally ill.

-Start normalising people having mental illness because others aren’t going to do it for you.

I have shared my experience to reach a person who is suffering the same and letting him/her know that you aren’t alone and you aren’t weak. I have been on that edge and am coming out stronger and so you will. If you think of someone who needs to hear this please share this story.

Juhi Meshram

Darshatha

Tuesday, 4 July 2017

tax

Now, we are ONE by Shristi Nangalia

wearedarshatha 21:00

“I am not satisfied with this reformation. It is nothing but a big gamble. ”

“This government just wants to make quick decisions to show off to the western countries. How we will deal with it? Nobody cares.”

I was overhearing the conversation between two young men suited up with briefcases at the breakfast stall, while I waited for my parcel to get ready.

“Dealing with it is a different game altogether. Is it even possible to implement? It is confusing and totally misguiding.”

“Right, these people sit in their offices and kick our bums on a regular basis. First demonetization, then this...”

‘This? What this? What is going on?’ .....I had no clue back then.

“It will only push inflation and hurt the poor and marginal middle class... like us.”

“Correct, this tax system is only for the benefit the government, not the common man!”

‘There is a new tax system coming in? There is an increase in taxes? Shit.. I already am running short of expenses... what is happening! I will have to...’

I was already lost in thoughts when the tea maker yelled- “Sir, here is your parcel... 58 rupees.”

I gave him the money, thinking this might rise to 60 rupees very soon... or more?!

I almost forgot about their conversation amidst the weekly Saturday rush in my puja supplies store. It was late in the evening that my uncle and consistent customer, Sunil Baba visited the store-

“Gagan, make my regular packet... and add two extra agarbatti packets for my home.”

“Sure, Baba.” I said and started packing his items.

“So, have you planned your inventory for the next year?” he asked with a smirk.

“Why now, Baba? I always do this in December.” I stopped and stared at him. He had always helped me in my business decisions and had been a constant support to me in financial matters. But, this sudden question quizzed me.

“Let me come back from the temple, we can sit after you have closed the shop.” he took his things and left hurriedly.

It was time for the temple to close and I was sitting idle, looking at the locals passing by. Baba took longer than he usually does. But he was just there when I was about to put down the shutters.

“Tell me, Baba. Why were you asking me about the inventory?”

“Things are changing... there is this big alteration coming up. Don’t you want to be prepared for it?” he asked, while he sat down facing me.

I was totally judging myself at that moment. I wished I was more updated with the news. “What change? Those office guys in the morning, they were also talking about it. Are the taxes rising?”

“Haha! Rising? Who said so? This reform is nothing but a big milestone in crafting a better internal system for managing the revenue of our country.”

“A better system? How? What is it about?”

“GST, Goods and Services Tax will replace the multiple taxes that the central and state government impose on us. It is expected to bring down the cost of running most households. Most products in your shop become tax exempted. Many food, entertainment and personal care items will see a big reduction in the implied tax. Wouldn’t it be better?”

“I had no idea about it. I only heard ill from others.” I said with a saddening face.

“There will always be two sides of the coin. But what we should be happy about is that we own the coin. Yes, the communication and transport industry will be affected otherwise. There will be a hike in the rates of medicines and telecom services.” He explained in a calm tone.

“It is okay, right? I mean, it will directly boost our country’s economy. And it will improve our developmental process.. which we all are looking forward to ultimately, aren’t we? But which taxes is this tax replacing?”

“Almost all of them! More than 15 taxes. Just name it- VAT, CST, Service Tax, Customs... GST covers them all.”

“Woah, I had never wondered if India could opt for this one-tax system! ... That means, instead of maintaining complicated records under the different sectors, all will be filed under one GST rule. And easier transactions... So, now my manufacturers or traders do not have to include taxes as a part of their cost of acquisition and production? Wow, nice.. It was always a mess, making the bus guy understand that the bill includes the transportation charges. Now I buy cheaper and sell cheaper! And, and... now I do not have to fill the boring long forms while dispatching goods to a different place!?” I was full of answers...rather than questions.

“Haha... yes, the paperwork becomes much simpler now.” he accepted.

“Wow. So why is there a fuss around?”

“Not all sectors are benefitted through this scheme. There will be a sudden decline in sales in a few sectors. The stock market and share market will be affected. Some people are creating havoc out of media-modified news. But after all, it is for the long term betterment. People are only looking at the odds. The opposition is not supporting. There will be a few hurdles too, but for me, this system unites our revenues.. and us.”

“Yeah.. It will take time to normalise the scenario. I think it is a great step and India needed it. Being such a messed up system, they are taking it forward and making it happen... great!” I was almost jumping.

“Exactly. India will gain prominence over the global market too. We are inching towards becoming a manufacturing hub. More investments, more employment and more income! Many countries are praising this long delayed initiative.”

“Obviously...” I smiled.

“So now you get it?” asked Baba, laughing.

“Hehe! Yes, thank you Baba! But why were you asking me to plan my inventory, now that things are getting simpler?”

“That was sarcasm, my dear! Who would know that the biggest news of the year couldn’t trespass your reserved world?”

“Oh... Hehe... Let us celebrate, Baba. Come over.”

“Sure, to a developing India!”

“Yay, to a corruption-less India!”

“To a better India.”

Wednesday, 31 May 2017

well

The fine line by Juhi Meshram

wearedarshatha 18:00

"From BAJRANGI BHAIJAAN TURNS REAL, INDIAN GIRL STUCKS IN PAKISTAN, to PAKISTAN IS A WELL OF DEATH; we have heard it all in this filmy case, but no one really cares about the real "BAJRANGI BHAIJAANS" here", a frustrated voice came from the couch. "They should have asked you",came another from kitchen. "This is a matter of great concern", this time Arun walked all the way to kitchen. "Yes but first eat you breakfast, then change the world", giggled Priya while she walked into bedroom.

Arun ate the breakfast while the news channel continued to show the news of the Pakistan returned Indian girl. "Arun, let’s leave if you are done its 9:30", Priya said while she picked the keys. "Yeah let's go", said Arun as he left the breakfast table. They locked the room and headed to their respective offices.

That night on the dinner table Priya served all his favourites. "Wow! Is it my birthday?” Arun said happily. "No! I was in a good mood.” an instant response came, "You were saying something about that Pakistan matter", Priya continued. "Yes just like that.", Arun said.

"Then who do you think is THE BHAIJAAN here?"

"So many"

"Must be our government right"

"No. Both the governments"

"Both? How is that? She fought for coming back"

"Yeah, but baby, she had crossed the border and now is here, this couldn't be possible without the corporations of their government"

"You are right but there was a lot going with ICJ in another case, may be that built up the pressure for them"

"there is no way you can deny the fact that she came back and with the help of both governments"

"That is not the point, what is important that she is back"

"But we cannot ignore the factors that brought her back"

"And we cannot avoid the thousand bad things that had happened because of them"

"One right can heal all the wrongs"

"Past cannot be healed and Why should we forget? What will we get out of it?"

"A friendship"

"Friendship? After partition, Kashmir attach, 1993 blast or after 26/11 ha?"

"Before future wars"

Pause. She had nothing to say but she did, "there's a lot that lies in between these soils that can't be wrapped"

"I think you already counted all the unwrapped, it's never too late to be friends"

"What will we get?"

"End of war"

"But she was tortured, men there torture they are bad, you are favouring people who don't respect our girls"

"Priya! It's not the country but the people, we have people like him in even in India"

"But they are Indians at least"

"Priya! Let’s cut the topic. We should sleep"

"Yeah! It's an endless discussion...hey! Don’t come to pick me tomorrow"

"Why?"

"I will go shopping with Maira, it's been long that we met and then we will meet an old friends group"

"Ohho and you are telling me now"

"Hey I just forgot.. I got her message now...."

"Relax baby, you go have fun and please inform me your whereabouts, just for safety"

"Yes mister I will be informing you all the time, good night and I love you"

"I love you too, good night"

Next day.

5pm

Priya: left the office. Off to mall with maira.<picture attached>

Arun: enjoy! Be safe.

8pm

Priya: bought you something marvellous, see when I get back.

Booked the cab for restaurant, going to meet some fiends.<location sent>

Arun: okay baby

10 pm

Priya:left for home

Arun: wating

11pm

Arun:not yet here? It's half an hour distance baby. Even in traffic.

11:30pm

Arun: Priya I have called you 78 times where you are, I reached the location you are not here. Of course.

00:00

Arun went here and there, searched all the possible places. Thoughts, worries, tears filled him thoroughly.

00:31am

Arun's mobile displayed, Priya calling...

After 3 hours...

Even the sound of keys made Priya move in shock as Arun unlocked the flat. They sat on the bed for another hour as Priya continued to stay quiet and hugged him as tight as she could. Arun started the conversation, "Priya I know you are frightened with this whole incident but do tell me what exactly happened." She finally broke down," I texted you when I left for home, Maria and I took different cabs obviously. After 15 minutes when we were away from the square, two drunken boys waved our taxi to stop. When the driver did not stop they followed us with their bike. I could have called you then, right! Shit! It did not click. Then they stopped in front and took out the cab driver and then snatched me out. They looted all my bags and jewellery. I thought that was the end. But then they started touching me. The driver had already escaped, they looked at me with those weird smile and they were coming closer,,, they touched my ... my neck then my Breast ,, then they went down to touch....", Arun interrupted in between,"hey Priya you don't need to recall all that.. Relax... Take a breath... now tell me how you escaped", Arun caressed her.

After a while Priya continued," when they stopped before us and were dealing with the driver, luckily it had clicked me and I dialled 100, when they had snatched me I dropped my phone in the cab, the police must had heard the sounds as I uttered HELP a thousand times. When they were assaulting me, police came and the two drunk men,, they escaped. I called you once we reached the police station and you know the rest." "Hmm, you are brave Priya, it’s your presence of mind that saved you. And don't worry police officers will find those bastards", Arun consoled her. "I hope they catch them, they were piece of devils, not humans for sure", Priya said.

To break the moment Arun said, "Now let’s sleep, we are not going anywhere tomorrow, we will take a break from the world and I will cook for you.. Okay?" "Deal", Priya smiled for the first time after all this.

Arun switched off the light.

The frightening night seemed to end as Priya switched on the lights again. Arun got up in fear, "Priya, all okay? Is that matter still disturbing you?? Tell me..." This time Priya interrupted him," I was just thinking that you were right." "Hain??", Arun had no clue what she was saying. "About that matter that is going, that girl who returned from Pakistan, that Indian girl", Priya tried to recall. "Priya... where did it come from you don't think about all this, let's sleep", Arun thought her to be just disturbed. "No Arun, it has to come, i just realised" "Realised? What?" "That I was wrong, it wasn't Pakistan but that man who was responsible for her plight", Priya said. "Good that you realised now let’s sleep", Arun dismissed. "Yes let’s sleep, we were one, we divide it into two and now we are making the countries hell to live in, it’s us, we human, not the country",Priya concluded.

Thursday, 26 January 2017

republic

The Republic Day by Juhi Meshram

wearedarshatha 18:00

I felt a sharp pain in my back as I turned to the side in the bed. I woke up to a new morning with an old ache. People who work on computers whether be an engineer or accountant or data operator, every such person must be having the same pain. I faintly unlocked my phone and suddenly my whole system changed. I rushed to the bathroom.

While I was struggling with my earring, I heard the announcement of flag hoisting on television. I ran to the drawing room and stood in attention for the National Anthem. As I was hymning the tune I saw the president paying salute to the flag, army doing the same in their beautiful uniform and the flag flowing in the air with its chin up.

“I want to see this live someday”, I declared in my mind room. The army persons were paying tribute to the flag; the crowd was quite sober out there at the event. It was when my phone rang that my eyes shifted away from television. It was my colleague on the other side.

“Office on 11, be on time”, it was more like an order. “Hey! I have got a set of tasks lined up, I will be late. Please wait till I reach.”, and I hung up with an explanation of being late in the near future. What I watched next was the president standing with his head down in respect and before him was a lady standing in a white saree and a blue shawl.

Her features told me that she belonged to north east and the commentary next introduced her to be the wife of late constable who lost his life fighting the terrorists. His wife politely received the honour and left the stage. As she was walking down the steps, I saw a grief yet satisfaction on her face.

She was crying as they pulled the camera on her. It was live. She met the president, she got the honour and she was crying. He had lost his life serving for the nation and she had lost her love. Nor she had anyone to complain, neither did she gestured to complain. She was polite and took it as an honour. He had chosen the nation first and she obliged.

My phone beeped again to a friend’s message. Meet me in 10 minutes. My friend was in town and he was leaving to the city he worked in that very noon. I tugged my hair, put my heels on and took the keys of my bike. I was driving my way to the cafe when I felt a change in the air. The weather was soothing, different from the other days. “May be the patriots and leaders who lead us to this day are doing this change”, I felt.

I reached the cafe. I was waiting there for my friend when I saw there was a change in the scenario. There were people hanging around with the flag painted on their face, gipsy and bikes were campaigning around like leaders, people around me were busy taking selfies. It was all engaging yet disturbing for me.

As we settled on a table; I and my friend couldn’t hold to watch the television in the cafe. The republic day ceremony was still on air. We were enjoying the showcase. The tableau from different states showing their culture, art and nature mesmerised my eyes and held them for ten long minutes.

Likewise, even my friend was concerned about the value of the day. “You saw the people? I don’t know what they feel it to be. I saw a flag waving on a gypsy.”, he was surprised. “Haha! Doesn’t happen in your metro city”, I said mockingly. And our talk over the respect of this day went on.

I left for my office, biding him goodbye. I missed the flag hoisting but met and greeted everyone. We sat over a light conversation on Bollywood with our boss and then he proudly told us how every year they celebrate the Independence Day and the Republic Day, invite friends, family, neighbours, workers, clients and even the kids passing by the office. They try to create a healthy celebration and a remembrance of the day.

Next, I drove back home. I spent the afternoon watching a movie on television that was based on a cricketer’s life and how he won the world cup for the country. It was a good film though.

I went for a walk in the evening with my friend. I told him about my whole day and how I felt about things; about the weather, the people, the television and everything else. He heard me with a smile and reciprocated politely as I asked him for his opinion. He said, “I think all the people who live nearby should gather in a ground and remember the freedom fighters and defence officers who have sacrificed their lives for the nation; that will be the best way to celebrate this day.”

And he was right, I realized. That one response summed up my whole day. Everything that I had felt that day, everything that had made me think a lot, that every thought got an answer when he said. “. We should at least resolve to follow a thought or a way given by some patriot.” such wise words felt my eyes as they dropped a tear of satisfaction.

The event of celebration that was been held in the capital every year, that was shown live to us, that we ignore every year, was actually a way to meet our real superheroes. The event salutes the efforts of our soldiers, give them a chance to rejoice and also show them the country they guard.

The flag hoisting give us a moment where all of us unite to pay respect to the nation who fought for our freedom, the flag that represented that freedom and the people who survived and even sacrificed for that freedom and the people who were trying at present to keep that freedom intact.

The small celebration like the one that was held in my office was just a way to keep the day alive, save the day to pass like just another holiday. And try to be a voice who said “We salute you” to the ones who worked even that very day for our safety. I got the purpose then.

The movie that had been telecasted was actually a salute to a sportsperson who had contributed shaping our country by his game and making the country proud in the international level. The channel contributed to the day by showing us the man who inspired us to be a better person and pursue our dreams.

The youth that was flaunting the freedom and was waving flags on their gypsy and bikes should have heard my friend. They could have got what this day was about and how they could have respect the day doing something better rather than wasting it that way.

“By crushing individuals, they cannot kill ideas.” by Bhagat Singh, I read. I pledged to follow these lines and to never stop following my dreams and ideals even if it costs me to stand alone. I tried to make these words alive.

“Remember the freedom fighters and defence officers who have sacrificed their lives for the nation; that will be the best way to celebrate this day.”

Tuesday, 20 December 2016

youth

The Adulterated Heaven by Juhi Mesrham

wearedarshatha 09:00

Youth. That day, when my senses woke up into a new morning, I saw a gloomy picture of myself in the mirror. My eyes had swelled from crying the whole night. I had a real bad sleep, flipping here and there, thinking and rethinking the same thought; thinking of the possibilities that could occur if I too did something valuable for my town like he did.

I kept the unwelcomed thoughts aside and quickly dressed up, as I heard continuous hymns of people. I stepped out of my home and encountered a crowd, a real crowd. The road was full of people walking with mourns and tears, with the same anger that I was feeling right then. I joined them and headed towards the square to salute his efforts, to raise a voice against his killing and mainly to take a step that had kept my mind shrinking from the time he was gone.

Security officer. All these years, serving in the town as a government servant, I had faced a lot of protests, strikes and what not. But no difficulty can ever be comparable to the one of that morning; because fighting an armed enemy is way easier than controlling an armless mob. From the previous night, we were prepared that the next morning would be challenging for us.

As soon as I woke up, I prayed to God for strength to fight the situation that was to come next. I wore my uniform and stepped out for my workplace early. We were all ready with our arm guns, rifles and armour to control all the anger of the town. A day before, looking at the mob, a thought hit me badly. A directionless youth of this country, a militant who was killed in encounter, was receiving mourns of two lakh people, was rewarded with gun salute and was becoming history in the name of bravery for a huge number of people; things I was never going to get even after serving the town... all these years.

Militant. From the last three years, the time I pledged to fight for our people and our rights; I had an inspiration from an unconventional courage and a brilliant mind. Being our leader in such a young age, he had commanded and delivered actions that can never be thought without him. He had generated a flame in our hearts and minds that was burning high inside us from that day when we were biding him to God and would be burning for the rest of our lives to serve our purpose of living.

That morning was a sleepless, yet awakening one for most of the younger ones of our town. While we tribute our leader for his sacrifice, I saw people and more people all over my sight praying for our hero. I was sad that he left us that soon. It wasn’t his time to go. I promised him there at his coffin not to rescue his murders. At the same time, I was relieved to find people showing anger for the same. He had served his purpose then and there.

Civilain. Surviving in this town had always been tough. But that day captured all of us to a frame where many of us didn’t belong. I was born and brought up here with curfews, protests, attacks, strikes, shutdowns and killings. Everything till that day had maintained a distance from me. But that day, when I saw people coming out on roads, when I saw a fellow civilian setting a vehicle on fire, I knew that it was going to trap all of us.

My exams were rescheduled; I couldn’t move out of my house due to the protest. At the same time, I couldn’t sit at home and watch the show. It was my town, my neighbourhood and my freedom that was on stake, from the time I was born till date. I had to at least participate with the ones who were fighting.

Media. For the last few days, I felt the way dead people must be feeling; like how it would feel to release your body and be invisible. I was there, I knew everything, I had the rights to say, I could speak up, but there was no one to listen. That day, when he had been killed, I reached the spot with my team to cover the whole incident. I couldn’t see the killing, but I witnessed everything afterwards. From more than two lakh people mourning for a late twenty two years old militant, to the never ending protest between the armless civilian and the armed security.

By the time he was killed, mobile internet, telephone services, newspapers, media was pulled off air. More than twenty five days of our work was hampered. The curfew implemented in the entire district, got removed and was imposed again. The civilians protested against the killing by stone pelting, strikes and setting buildings & vehicles on fire. The police and armed forces defended by the pellet guns, teargases and rifles. The government bodies asked civilians to keep calm. With the death poll rising from two to eighty five and thousands of civilians getting injured every day, I stood there, in a total blackout.

Youth. The path of sacrifice had never been easy and I guessed that to be the reason of all my second thoughts. But days went by and the gloomed picture got stinks of hatred. Public safety act- they called it. Public, we, our town, had been victims of the inhumanity. One from the public was that aged man in my neighbourhood who lost his eyes due to buckshot. One from the public was that five year old girl who got wounded from pellet shot. And one from the public was him, who lost his life fighting for this public.

Public safety act- they called it. Then who was safe in that entire chaos? And what we even meant for them? Nothing. Not the public but the district that they were protecting or authorising, not the public but the beauty of our state was their interest, and with this, all my second thoughts were gone. I pledged to serve- the way he did. At last, I did clear the picture.

Security officer. But then I thought. It wasn’t my job to sit and think about public reactions, about the media allegations or the political accusations. My job was to kill any type of nuisance in the town. I was pretty much doing that on my part or at least was trying to do to the fullest without caring about my whole life, my family and my home.

I waved the emotions and remembered the pledge of my service. I pulled my gun on, took my armour and started controlling the mob. The nation needed an action. The town needed a reaction. So, all I did was to keep going. My work had to go on.

Militant. All I had to do was to keep his work going and punish the enemies. My courage boosted when our youth valued his sacrifice and joined us in huge number. We, together, had fought against the armed forces and we still were fighting. They would be defeated and would move out of our state to the place they belong, to their country.

Our God was blessing us with exposing other brains towards our thoughts. Our commander had now created a revolution- sacrificing his life in the path of freedom. And our people were protesting with us against the outsiders for our rights. There was no one to stop us now. We all united to serve our purpose. I could now sense freedom coming in the air of the town.

Civilain. I finally decided what to do and joined the mob. But! There, I stuck. I stood there paused. What I could see around me was war. I stood out to speak but no one was actually saying or listening. We were shouting. And when one of us set a police station on fire, the officers in uniforms were right after us. I ran. I ran fast for my life. All these years that had passed in militarization- I knew one thing that, the officers- they would never listen.

I ran long till I reached the bank of the river. I stopped, turned back to see the uniforms. I swallowed my own breathe and jumped into the river. I stayed there for long waiting for the security forces to clear by. After a while, I dared to swim upwards to the bank. I found no one. There was no one in uniform. I sighed in relief, and as I was walking towards the town, I noticed my reflection in river. But wait! It was not moving with me. It was floating. Yes! My body, it seemed dead.

Media. When I looked for conclusion, my pen dropped no ink. It’s hard to find who was wrong and where. Breaking the law and being a rebel to your country was wrong but inhumanity could never be an answer for that. There would always be a source that set fire; it would be as tiny as a matchstick or as big as bomb blast.

Why we needed to punish the civilian to safeguard them and why civilians had to fight security to end an ongoing war? Who gave us the right to act inhuman to regulate the law and order and why? Who decided our purpose of living? And who was the first, who thought violence would be a way to put things right?