Tuesday 17 May 2011

Mercy about Mercy Killing

Somehow today a thought is lingering in my mind, from the time I am up from my bed. It is about Euthanasia or Mercy Killing. It’s more of unanswered questions about Mercy killing that are bothering me than whether it’s a right thing to do or not. When a person is so sick that he is unable to take care of his basic necessities, then what is the purpose of such a life? People might argue that he “might” be alright one day and “might” be able to take care of himself as if whatever has made him bed ridden now will be completely erased from memory. But, how many such cases happen in reality? How many spring back to life as though nothing has ever gone wrong.
It’s fair to argue that we are not the ones to decide when one should die. Death is not a call for us to take. But when a person is so sick and there are no more hopes of that person living, then why shouldn’t his life be respected and terminated in a decent way than let him await his death which seems like it will never come?
When a person is suffering, he alone suffers the physical pain, but the person who loves him suffers the mental pain of seeing a loved one suffer. I am sure many people will hate this idea and not agree with me. But this is what I feel about so many people who are living a life they would not choose to live. They want to die, that is the desire deep down, but death would not come to them. They are not sure why they are alive and how much more they got to see before the final time comes. In many cases, they are just hanging around helplessly, either in a deep coma for years or in a physically anguished state, knowing not what to do? There are thousands who feel, its better GOD takes him than to let him suffer like this; the unheard silent prayers of all the loved ones go unanswered.
While I was talking to a friend about this, he said there was a woman who had been physically violated and has been in coma for the last 20 years. What is the purpose of sustaining such a life? I, for sure have no answers.
My heart goes out for all such people, who are suffering their road to death in silence and deep distress. I wish I could help them. I wish Mercy killing was a legal option for them. You may call me a murderer, so be it. If the thousands who are suffering can get some relief from their pains then I prefer being one and supporting this cause.

Monday 16 May 2011

First in the series of First-Timer's

I plan to do a first timer’s series. This is my first attempt.
Suguna went to drop her kid, Manasi at school. It was Manasi’s first day at school. Suguna had been fretting about sending her kid to school, for almost a week now. She knew she had to overcome it, for Manasi had to go to school someday. But thoughts were pounding her head; will Manasi be able to handle the pressure of school life? How will she fair in her exams? Will she be a bully or will she get bullied by others in the class? Will Manasi be in the good books of her teachers or will she turn out to be a brat or even worse a (branded) back bencher? Will she get punished by her teacher and get wacked on her knuckles? Thousands of thoughts were crossing her mind and making a very haphazard and random pattern. She had purchased all that was needed and more for her toddler’s important first day of life – books, pencil box, new pencils, sharpeners, erasers, bag, shoes, uniforms. Name it and it was there for Manasi. Suguna didn’t understand her hidden fears.
The day finally arrived. Manasi was decked up in her new attire. Suguna’s car pulled up in front of Manasi’s school. Suguna recollected her first day in school. She had cried so much. She had happily entered the school premises, but the sight of her teacher had shaken her. She wept uncontrollably and did not let go off her dad’s little finger. She tugged so hard. Her teacher had to literally drag her into the classroom. She finally went in; turning and looking at her dad at every step she took. Her dad was happy to let her go. That day, she had thought that her dad didn’t love her. Otherwise, why would he have left her alone with an unknown lady? But now she only laughed at those thoughts.
How would Manasi react was a million dollar question repeatedly torturing Suguna. Slowly as they walked in, Manasi seemed curious. She looked at every nook and corner of the building. She saw many kids her size walk in, clad in their new stiff pinafores, jet black shoes complimenting their dashing white socks and neatly done hair. Some elder kids walked in groups with a hunch back. The weight of their school bags literally bringing them down to the ground. The kindergarten room was almost there. Manasi's eyes opened up wide and clear. She imbibed everything that was in that room. The black board, the charts showing shapes, colors, animals, birds and alphabets, the cute little tables and chairs, the other kids who were soon to be her friends, the various little puzzles and blocks stacked up at one corner, waiting to be explored.
While Manasi was still looking around greedily, her teacher walked up to us and said “Hello Manasi”. Manasi let out a happy and loud hello. Her teacher asked her if she liked the place, Manasi nodded. Her teacher asked her if she wanted to play with the other kids and the puzzles. Manasi nodded her head very eagerly. Then her teacher asked her to tell Suguna, Bye. Manasi happily waved and walked hand in hand with her teacher, jumping and eagerly proceeding towards the puzzles.
All the while Suguna had been a silent spectator. She had hardly noticed when Manasi had let go off her hand and taken her teacher’s hand in hers. She was so worried about her child, but Manasi had gone as if it was never a big deal. Suguna turned and walked towards the car and felt drops of tear roll down her cheeks. Suguna felt strange about her tears. She had these same tears when it was her first day at school and now again when it was her daughter’s.

Wednesday 4 May 2011

Eagle eye's view of my Office

Today my friend S and I were about to leave for lunch while we noticed an Eagle sitting outside on the railing. There is a glass window through which we could see it. We had never seen an Eagle from so close. We were excited and we clicked a few pictures. It is a real big bird and we enjoyed watching it, although it was for a very brief period. It was busy cleaning all its downs and it was screeching or whatever its “sound making” is called. It sat there watching all the mad people at our office who were busy talking, walking, acting mad and everything possible. So, I got this idea about how it would be to watch my world through the eagle’s eye. I just have made a small attempt at it. Please read on.


It was a hot sunny afternoon. Well, I liked it after having seen rain lash out continuously for three long days. After a long flight, I retired on the fourth floor of the high rise building that I live in. I sat in the balcony and watched through the window glass. I saw many humans were busy on the other side of the window. There was a mad rush about everything. What was amazing was the whole room was divided into adjacent nests. And what I could not comprehend was the fact that the nest had a single person sitting in it and doing something with their hands working on a strange thing. I heard them call it the ‘laptop’. I wondered where their families were. What about their kids? Or I believe they live alone in adjacent nests. For I seldom see these rooms empty, or at least all day long, whenever I have noticed.
At one end of the room, I saw a funny looking man looking deeply into his laptop. I will call him the funny man. His laptop showed criss-crossed lines and they were all colored with some numbers in each of them. He had a funny straight face. He was sitting with his legs on the table and was talking on the phone. 5 humans had gathered in his nest. The humans were talking loudly and discussing something writing something on a white board. They all looked at the funny man’s laptop and explained something to each other. They seemed to argue over something. The funny man who was sitting down finally called out some orders and asked them to just follow the numbers specified in the ‘excel’ or so he shouted. All seemed to nod in agreement (I felt the funny man had some powers to have made them obey). With that all the humans left to their respective nests and the funny man was left behind who resumed feverishly looking at his ‘excel’ on his ‘laptop’. Then I saw this funny man walk into another smaller room, talking over his mobile with another set of humans. I took a peek at the room. It was a much smaller room; there was a big white board, a small round table and four chairs around the table. They went in and closed the door. I wonder what happened in there. Was this funny man like a king among those people? He looked funny, but I don’t think he made the life of humans around them anything close to having fun. For all around him seemed to be pleasing him all the time and tried to nod to everything he had to say.
I saw some groups of young men laughing aloud and move in small crowds. I think it was their time for getting some food and they were going in search of their prey. I heard humans cook their food in fire. What if we were to cook our food? We are so scared of fire. We would burn our feathers. Won’t human hands get burnt while they touch hot food? What about leaving their tongue scarred? What is food like when it’s burnt and not fresh? I am sure I love to eat my food fresh as I catch it and would not want to be a human for this reason. Barring the primary reason being the fact that I love to fly and humans cant.
I saw a young man and lady walk through the passage of nests. They seemed to be so lost in each other. They walked from different sides of the room and they signaled each other. I thought they were mates. The man looked lovingly into her eyes and she seemed to turn pink in color and looked away from his fixating gaze. He approached closer to her and she moved away shyly. All creatures of God in love are really crazy, whether human or birds. I don’t see they are very different when in love. I remembered my love and remembered the fragrance in her downs. She had made a wonderful nest for us and raised a great family of four. My kids were very adorable and smart. They had already showed their interest to fly more than once and one kiddo had jumped down from the nest. After a great struggle, my wife and I had got him back to the nest. I wanted to fly away to my love and to my kids now that I was reminded of them.  
Before I could think of flying away to my nest, I saw two ladies looking at me. They were pretty good looking. I looked at them as they looked at me. One lady clicked a picture of me. I posed there and waited for some more clicks. I thought she liked me. The two ladies seemed to be engrossed in a discussion about me. I waited there for it would be rude, if I left them while they were still looking at me. I tried to shout so that I could seek more attention. I thought they would make a video of me. But I saw them deeply discussing and slowly turning and walking back towards their nests. Probably their interest in me had ended. Realizing I was caught in the mad trap of gaining attention from some stupid human beings, I pushed open my long feathers and soared into the deep blue sky.

Tuesday 3 May 2011

End of Osama says Obama

Many Americans celebrated when Obama announced the killing of Osama. As I type this, I just noticed that Obama and Osama are only different by a B and S. Anyways, jokes apart, some startling facts I heard from a writer and journalist, Mr. Ravi Belagare on television yesterday.
> In Afghanistan, it seems a woman was stoned to death after the daily ‘Namaz’. I know many who read this might think that the charge against her would be something related to cheating on her husband or a love affair or some such thing. No. In her case, she was going from home to home in the evenings spending time with kids teaching them English. Yes, she taught English and that was her crime.
> There are no bathrooms in any of the homes there. It seems there are places called 'Hamams', which is a public bathroom, where men go to do the rituals. Women are not allowed to go there often for the fear of physical abuse by other men. She is allowed to go once in six months. Yes, once in six months.
> In times of war, many lose their legs, hands, eyes and what not. But they are all operated on by doctors without giving them anesthesia. Yes, you read it right. They writhe in pain and cry and howl, while they are being operated on/amputated. But there is no option. When a man is shot in his eyes, his upper eye lid is just pulled and stitched with the lower portion. There is no better facility than this.
> It seems Afghanistan is very rich in natural resources. There are many unexplored mines. But the fear of the White Mountains is so high, that these are left untouched.
> Afghanistan is the world's largest producer of opium and Drug trafficking is the key resource of revenue.
> Afghanistan was never colonized by the British. The British never attempted to do it and stayed away from Afghanistan.
Mr. Ravi's words have made a lasting impact on my mind. I wish to know more about this country and I will surely read to know about it and let you all know when I discover more.
I had been complaining about how bad my life was and how much I have lost control of my life. But just as I write this, I am grateful to GOD. He has given me so much. My pains are so much less compared to these people in the other part of the world.