Saturday 30 June 2007

The 8RF Game...

I was surfing through blogs yesterday and found this new tagging thing going on. To my disappointment, I hadn't been tagged, being the rare blogger I am.Now that I am, thanks to Twilight Fairy, I'll play along.Here goes....

Here are the rules:

1.Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.
2.Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.
3.Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.


Eight Random Facts about me:
  1. I'm flat-footed and can't run fast.
  2. I'm the most comp-illiterate guy to have ever owned a laptop. I somehow manage it, thanks to Rajesh and Sajal( I.P.), my neighbours on either side.
  3. When I was about 5, I locked my mother in a hospital bathroom to avenge her doing the same a day back. I then went to have lunch with some docs, who were quite fond of me. She sat there locked for over an hour. I was never locked after that ;)
  4. I have been living away from home since 7th standard. 1st Ajmer, then Kota and now Madras.
  5. I hate it when someone tells me I look younger than I am, though I know it's true.
  6. My father calls me a 'half' ateist because of my attitude towards God and my mother is constantly miffed with me over that.
  7. Among my 4 cousins and a younger bro( I live in a joint family) I was always the naughtiest, breaking more stuff then all the others out together. My brothers later surpassed me when they drove a tractor straight into an old wall.Luckily, all 3 came out unharmed.
  8. I started blogging because Bhaavaas offered me a treat for it and I'm glad that I did. I still am a terribly irregular blogger and do not even know 8 bloggers who I can tag.
All I can think of tagging is Bhaavaas.

Thursday 21 June 2007

Route to reservations

Guess it's too late to write this now. The revolt ceased a month back but ever since the Mahindra classic jeep was torched in front of my eyes, the passengers escaped though, this was due. It all started when yours truly, against everyone's wishes, decided to board the overnight bus to Jaipur. Oh wait that wasn't the beginning. This was just the backdrop. The action started when my cousin insisted that I delayed my journey back by a day and attend his friend's wedding at some small village, a few hours from Jaipur. I must here say that I actually enjoyed a wedding in a long time with only about 20 'baratis'.

Things were all going well when we got the news that the Gujjars, OBCs as of now, detested their higher social position, as compared to Meenas and demanded social equality. Now the Meenas had not managed to rise, despite boasting of families which have all, yes my dear ALL working members placed in the IPS or IAS. Keeping this in mind, the Gujjars demanded that they be granted a lower social status. They wanted to descend to their level when their bretheren could not rise.

This was all fine till it was a peaceful, civilised request to the government. Things went sour when they resorted to disobedience of govt. Vehicles were stopped and turned back leaving people starnded. Police forces were attacked whereever they could be spotted. Confusion, Panic, Trauma, Agony. My limited vocabulary gives way. The canvas was way larger than I can narrate. For a week every sunset would leave behind a few more corpses, every moon was reflected in the tears of a few more families. Ah...Rajasthan my homeland. It never was like this. My grandpa says even the partition was better. Though I believe memories fade with time and partition must have been worse but this wasn't a partition or was it?

Thanks to the vote hungry politicians, the administrators lacking foresight, we are now officially and strictly divided into religion, region, caste and class. Left out someone to blame? YES, me and you for not doing anything. Not making any small difference that we can. I know I'm getting all worked up and hence the outburst. I also know this feeling won't last but I hope the blog will.

Forgot to put in a word about the media. I believe they think Policeman means martyr. Everytime a shot was fired by the Police, even after being attacked, the media went after it with hammer and tongs. What are they supposed to do? Die with the gun in hand without ever firing a shot?

Don't know how to end this. So I decided I'll end my mournings here and now.