"People like Shyama Chona never retire"
-Khushwant Singh, Babri Finale, Hindustan Times, New Delhi, 18th July 2009.

After 44 years as an educationist, a Padma Shree in 1999, a Padma Bhushan in 2008 and around 60 other awards in the field of education and social welfare, Chona is calling it a day.

14 years of formal education at DPS, R.K. Puram had me fearing Dr. Chona. One of the best orators I've witnessed, she has an intimidating persona.
DPS, R.K. Puram shall always miss her presence post 12th August. So shall every student who ever knew her.

Severin,Severin, awaits you there..

"They are based on the experience of thousands of years," she replied
ironically, while her white fingers played over the dark fur. "The more
devoted a woman shows herself, the sooner the man sobers down and
becomes domineering. The more cruelly she treats him and the more
faithless she is, the worse she uses him, the more wantonly she plays with
him, the less pity she shows him, by so much the more will she increase his
desire, be loved, worshipped by him. So it has always been, since the time
of Helen and Delilah, down to Catherine the Second and Lola Montez."

-Venus in Furs, Leopold von Sacher-Masoch

And thus it began, masochism.
Random.

Bees Saal Baad

20 in 4 days. I'd always thought that I'd die before I turned 20. Apparently not.

I've transformed into an urban tourist. Been roaming around Delhi through these vacations. Discovered amazing non-vegetarian food almost everywhere: Nizam's at Connaught Place, Kababs at the steps of Jama Masjid, Chilly Pork at Kamala Nagar, Chilly Beef at Tibetan Refugee Colony.
Delhi, outside of being home, always gives me the feeling of living history. Connaught Place, so quintessentially British; the colonies of South Delhi, where the generation that experienced the partition and witnessed the growth of Delhi is gradually kicking the bucket; Delhi-6, where each gali, each corner, has its own story to tell; Aurangzeb Road, where those who frequent the corridors of power reside.
It's been a while though. Damn heat.

307,BH-3

Taking a cue from Sam's blog, here's my ode to the hostel.
NALSAR seems more home now. Everyone who knows me well enough is aware of the fact that I used to stay in Vasant Vihar till 2003. I moved to my present location, Kaushambi, after that. Through 2003 to 2008, I never cared to interact with people around here. To be honest, outside of the 1500 Sq Feet of my home, this place was never home. I always looked at it as a temporary existence, one that'll be over soon.
And then came NALSAR.

It was like moving from 14 to 19 straightaway. NALSAR brings back everything that I lost by moving from Vasant Vihar. Great friends, a lot of fun in life and a general sense of satisfaction and happiness. It has reduced my 'Dilliwalla' attitude a lot(Read: Levels of anger have reduced drastically, become more patient and tolerant).
It has brought to me something almost akin to Delhi: Hyderabad.

What I truly value about NALSAR is BH-3, more specifically, 307. It's not only Abdaal and me. It's every close friend of mine(who drops by daily; 307 is the hub of all activities). It's long nights spent listening to music, watching movies or just randomly chatting. It is a space I call my own. It is an address I wish I can remember and preserve forever.
And yes, it is also the room that brought 'Gunda' to me.

Checkmate

Passed first year. I am now 20% lawyer. 4 years to go.

Been a rather uneventful two weeks, minus having beef for the first time in my life and quite liking it. Been to CP a couple of times for the quintessential Delhi experience.

Flying to Bombay tomorrow. 9 days: Food, Alcohol, more food, more alcohol. Old Friends. All I could possibly want.

Life is a funny bitch.

Jean-Paul Sartre still survives. So does Charles Baudelaire.

Bada Kaske Gale Lagata Hai
Dhadkan Ki Dhun Sunata Hai
Iske Baayen Taraf Bhi Dil Hai, Iske Daayen Taraf Bhi Dil Hai
Haan, Yeh Shaher Nahin Mehfil Hai

A Case Comment on K. Subbharao v. State of Andhra Pradesh

Freaky title(especially for my batchmates). My sincere apologies to those who intend to bask in blissful ignorance of the law till 15th June.
The judgment in the case of Koppisetti Subbharao v. State of Andhra Pradesh was delivered on 29th April 2009 by Justices (Dr.) Arijit Pasayat and Asok Kumar Ganguly.
The main issue in the case was whether a presumption of marriage, rather disregard of a contravention of the idea of 'legally wedded', could be entertained by the Court when the matter dealt with socially relevant issues.
In the instant case, the husband was charged for demanding dowry from his wife, an act that constituted an offence within the meaning of Section 498A of the Indian Penal Code. The husband contended that he was not guilty under Section 498A and to substantiate this claim, asserted that the woman was not his 'legally wedded' wife, as understood by Hindu laws.

Justice's Pasayat's response was like a stream of light at the end of a dark tunnel of positivist judgments:
"The concept of marriage to constitute the relationship of ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ may require strict interpretation where claims for civil rights, right to property etc. may follow or flow and a liberal approach and different perception cannot be an
anatheme when the question of curbing a social evil is concerned".

In the past, the judgments in Bhaurao Lokhande v. State of Maharashtra and Surjit Kaur v. Garja Singh, have laid down that a man may not be prosecuted for bigamy under Sections 494 and 495 of the IPC, if his second marriage wasn't duly solemnized.
To put it in absolutely naive and caustic language, they gave a man in India a carte blanche to marry as many women as he wished, by purposely defaulting on some essential ceremony. These women were women sans any rights of inheritance and maintenance. The children were deemed to be illegitimate. This approach of the Court seems like a first year answering a Family Law-I paper: Apply law. Get right answer. Come out. Discuss with friends. "2nd wife fucked; won't get any maintenance; bache haraami honge (the issue will be illegitimate)". Forget about it.

The judgment in K. Subbharao's case may be distinguished to make it inoperative as precedent in cases pertaining strictly to civil matters. Rather, his observation on 'strict interpretations in matters of property rights' may be construed to support and proliferate bad law. However, it my ardent hope that the lacuna in the law, manifested in the travesties that 2nd wives and their children have to undergo at the hands of the colossally twisted system of law, be recognized and remedied by future decisions of the apex Court. So that women, who have fulfilled all their obligations as wives, are not stripped of all rights that a wife may enjoy, due to the fact that their marriage was solemnized with 6.5 steps around the sacred fire and not 7.

Here We Are Now...Entertain Us

Let us all sing in praise of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. If not sing, celebrate with jumbo meatballs.
It's been a rather dull week.Not much to do apart from reading the Sociology-I module and listening to music. At times, both situations coincide and the result is what I'd like to refer to as the baap of procrastination. After 4 months of reading Contract Law and Family Law, I can quite confidently say that I've learnt almost nothing. Yes, I may be competent to tender legal advice to someone who asks for it but it still seems quite incomplete.Law School does require you to read a lot on your own, especially with the highly qualified faculty we have at hand(This is not a statement; Rene Magritte, forgive me).
What is amusing is the Kundera-esque twists that life seems to take.At times, I truly wonder whether this adversarial approach of mine towards a lot of people really is part of me. I leave the question unanswered, for I can't furnish an answer myself.
In another 8 days, I would've completed 1 year of instruction in law. It's been a fruitful year. Gained a good lot of friends, lost a few(not that I particularly regret it), learnt stuff. Most of all, I truly believe I've emerged more knowledgeable and much more humble. To put in absolutely blasphemous terms, I don't consider my trysts with Camus to be the pinnacle of intellect. There are people here who scare and inspire me with their degree of intellect. I wish I could cultivate that.
The radical difference that I see is that everyone really liked being here in the 1st Semester while everyone just wishes to escape to whichever part of the country they're from after the 2nd Semester. I won't deny that I feel the same. 4 months away from Delhi can drive a Delhite to suicide. I'm one of the few that made it. At the same time, I know I'll miss NALSAR's hostel life all my life.That precise moment, 2:30 in the morning, Roy,Abdaal,Laban,Mrinal,Sanjay and Me, on the terrace of BH-3, speaking utter rubbish, will be a moment that'll live within me forever.Nothing can come close to hostel life. It is, to put it in very mild terms, beyond this mundane world.
Ideally, Duryodhana should've killed Bhima. Ideally, Kubrick and Kurosawa should've been immortal. Ideally, I should be reading Sociology now.Let us all strive towards perfection.
P.S.- My grandmum's 10th death anniversary today i.e. 23rd. May her soul rest in eternal peace." Wherever you are Nani, watch over me". Love - Anjaney.

Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention

My Guitar's Gonna Kill Your Mama. My Mandolin may manage it too.
15 days left for the end of the 2nd semester. 1 year of legal education over.It's been quite different from the 1st semester. While the 1st was a drag, the 2nd went away in a jiffy. Chennai, the Moot, surprises,midsems,projects. 3.5 months without ever realising that they went by. Life went tumultuous to the point where I decided to let go off something I should never have.It's funny how one can live a life full of regrets.

Work awaits. Some other time.

Douglas Noel Adams

The question is: Whether DNA was divine or bovine??
Random. Stop.
I finally stepped out of campus today. Albeit for moot work, it was quite a welcome change from the 55 acres of expanse that NALSAR has to offer. I went with two 5th Years and the entire trip was brilliant. From buying stuff you'd have considered absolutely irrelevant to discussing college to listening to Ustav's memoirs of life both inside and outside of NALSAR, I had a great time. oh, and to all the who think that I look like Shyam, the Shamirpet lake is quite a drown. The chap's actually good looking. Now to further randomness.

It's been a long time since I gave up my guitar.Here I am, sweating my ass in law school, while she weeps gently at home. I guess I'll get her repaired and bring her here next semester. Miss playing my guitar a lot. Also, chucking it was not a prudent decision. There's no thrill in life equivalent to creating music and I wish I was doing it right now.
The travesties of music aside, work is a requisite in NALSAR to keep yourself sane. If not work imposed by the academic sphere, work of any sort, even learning languages. I learnt Urdu this semester. Italian and French in the summers. Telugu in the third semester. Being a polyglot is something I'd always strived to be. If Hofstadter is to be believed, I'd be a pi-glot (Not a reference I expect anyone to understand; As a friend refers to me, I am quite a snob).
Inlaks, be mine. Till then,life, be mine.

The Untitled

In the garden of thine impotence, O redeemer

Flow those flowers of evil, callous

The nectar of them, bloody wine of misanthropia

Rivers of dogmatic poison in thine veins.

Thine church of Sixtus, glorious temple of Satan

Radiantly glowing in its deception,

Thine son, my father celibate

Inebriated by the cannabis of indulgence.

O, are we then your sheep unguided,

Left desolate to find our own, while

You shine upon thine Cross so high,

We look at thee, O savior of none

Through a glass darkly

Death, that profound philosopher, is my redemption

For in life, you were to be mine

Come, my glories shall, when you judge

For I have already judged

And you, my lord, are condemned to fiction.

-Anjaney Das
28.03.09

Hamra Baba Ke Likhayl Adhikaar Chahiye

There are some who are venerated beyond measure.There are some for whom any degree of veneration is too little an acknowledgment of their brilliance and greatness.To the man who represented, and will always represent, the hope of the opressed castes of India.To Babasaheb Ambedkar.

"Sun lo re bhaiyya hamri ek arji
Jeevan ha julum bedardi
Ab jhootan nahin koi ikraar chahiye
Hamra pyar chahiye
hamre Baba ke likhayl adhikar chahiye
hamre Baba ke likhayl adhikar chahiye"
(A Bhojpuri song popular amongst the Dalits of Southern Bihar)

'Jaativad' and 'Sampradayakta'

Our sociology teacher screened a documentary called 'India Untouched' today. Based on the insidiously prevalent institutions of caste and untouchability, it explored the scenario in eight states of India. More than what the documentary contained (which was quite disturbing), it was the reaction of my classmates that truly astonished me. They flinched at the depiction of atrocities whose reports can be found in the average Indian daily on a quotidian basis.For me, it was something that I knew and had personally seen on my last trip to Mithila.
Whenever I've debated with someone on the issue of whether or not India has failed as a model of governance, I've always been told that the state has done a lot for its people. Indeed, it has produced countless doctors, engineers and professionals.They can be found in LA or Birmingham or Paris.My only response to an argument so fallacious is the state of Bihar, a classic case of rape and neglect. For a state which did so well in the time of Shri Krishna Sinha and Anugraha Narayana Sinha, the apathy shown towards it has led it to be the worst state worth living in India.The intellectual tradition of Bihar,and especially that of Mithila,can be traced a long way back.The knowledge of polity and history is second only to Bengal and Kerala.What Happened?
I believe the degradation of a state so enriched, in natural and human resources,is solely due to the stratification of society on the basis of caste and religion.The Bhagalpur riots of 1989 were an orgy of murder where brutality and inhumanity reached colossal proportions.Casteism is not rigid, like it is in South India, but it takes a form which is inhuman to the point where compassion for one's fellow being runs in the negative.The politicians have exploited this stratification and have reduced the degree of knowledge and education of the masses in a phased manner to the point where the literacy rate has fallen down to 47%.The dream is not of having a comfortable life in the home state.It is to escape. Every single educated Bihari dreams of being an engineer or an IAS.None of them wish to return to ameliorate the condition of their kith and kin.The spirit of kin, the spirit of doing something for the motherland, dies in this tussle to survive and excel.
To each Indian who draws derisive elation from Pakistan's failure as a state,look Eastward.We, the people of Bihar, the land of Patliputra, the land of Buddha, the land which has produced extensive and incomparable amounts of literature on every subject imaginable, are today reduced to an existence where our own nation is turned against us.It is commonplace to curse Bihar and Biharis for overpopulation in the major cities of India.Why do we come to alien cities to lead a life of indignity and abuse?Because we believe that if we live out a life in severely inhuman conditions,our sweat and blood may culminate into the emancipation of the generations to come.The hope never dies, never even flickers.For a state so cheated by her own people, we're remarkably optimistic, almost to the point of stupidity.But we cling to our stupid hope, hoping that the God we profess faith in will deliver us.Are we children of a lesser God, if at all he exists, to suffer thus, and that too at the hands of our own countrymen?
As a person brought up in Delhi, more Punjabi than the Punjabis,my observations can at best be described as those of a concerned outsider. Yet, for every single uninformed individual in India, for whom India is Delhi or Bombay or Bangalore,see the plight of your countrymen and then decide whether we truly are the largest democracy of the world. Whether that document of 395 Articles, 22 Parts and 12 Schedules is worth celebrating.

The Fact of Crap-Ness

Monsieur Fanon, Forgive me.
It's been a long time since I read anything substantial. I tried reading 'Waiting for Godot'(Samuel Beckett) and 'No Exit'(Jean-Paul Sartre) with very limited success.I came across certain poems of Charles Baudelaire. HBH Morrison was quite in love with them.My own favourite piece of poetry is from Book II of Paradise Lost.Playing the absolute nincompoop, I came across it while reading 'His Dark Materials'.
Here Goes:
"Into this wild abyss,
The womb of nature and perhaps her grave,
Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire,
But all these in their pregnant causes mixed
Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight,
Unless the almighty maker them ordain
His dark materials to create more worlds,
Into this wild abyss the wary fiend
Stood on the brink of hell and looked a while,
Pondering his voyage."
Sheer brilliance. As is HDM. I still remember how I was reading the third book a day before my chemistry paper in Class XIIth. It was intricate and exciting to the point where you're rendered open-mouthed with awe.In terms of Cinema, Bunuel and Kubrick have managed to do that to me.In terms of music, hail Morrison.
Sociology paper tomorrow.We have 3 referral texts: 2 that deal with the institution of race and 1 that deals with the institution of family.The text on family, albeit lengthy and boring in parts, makes for very good reading if one is to read it detached from exam mania.Certain explorations, and certain assertions, are so simplistic that a reminder of their existence or the rationale behind them manage to
bring that flash of clarity in your mind. Frantz Fanon, in his quite verbose and abstruse text on race, has quoted Mian Jean- Paul Sartre in places. Sartre's works have never really found a good reader in me due to my sense of impatience with his form of writing.Yet,'Antisemite and the Jew' made a lot of sense and also brought forward certain inherent characteristics of humankind which are contradictory to the point of splitting the mind.Every field has its Gods and I believe human nature was best understood and explained by the absurdists and existentialists, particularly Camus(I know Ipshita shall mock me for this) and Sartre.To be fair to classmates, I am smug. I like it this way. However, I am not self-obsessed. I am obsessed with the realisation of the self. Which is why I watch 'Gunda'.

8th Amendment to the Constitution of the US: "Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted".

The contradiction is not of theory and practice. It works at a much more fundamental level. It is the contradiction of pre-war and post-war. It is the contradiction of human ethics and the lack of them.
"What we have here..is failure to communicate."
-Srother Martin, Cool Hand Luke

Daddy, Junior and the Holy Spook

This post is not a tribute to Kancha Illiah although I concede he was a man with thoughts and experience worth respecting. This post is my reflection on why I do not believe in the institution of God. I shall, at times, refer to the 4th Earl of Russell's arguments.
The primary reason for not believing in God has been the extremely religious atmosphere I've been brought up in. I come from a typical middle-class family which traces its roots to the poorest yet most religious part of India. Religious, not in the bigoted, but rather in the too-devoted-to-care-about-others manner. Religion has never been enforced on me but at the same time has been a constant companion in my formative years. At the age of 8, I knew more Hindu myth and prayer than the average 18 year old in India. With the imbibing of religion in my childish mind, the institution gained a follower. Premature celebration, religion. Apostasy had to follow, for the rational mind makes its choices based on reason and logic, rather than epics that run for 100,000 verses.The sweeping statements end here.

Religion, as Marx(of the Karl variety; Groucho was too busy with women and comedy to notice) defined it, is the 'Opium/Opiate of the masses'. Scholars of tremendous learning have connoted this statement to correspond to their own thoughts on the institution of religion.I, in my capacity as a person of very limited learning but a decent amount of exposure, am of the opinion that religion is too interweaved with the populace and their daily life for it to be given up as a whole. At the same time, it is an insidious poison that spreads in the veins of society, corrupting the path of the pathbreaking. His Beyond-Human-Greatness (HBH) Russell has stated that religion has only enforced the morality of a few on a whole. The contemporaneous example that springs to mind is of the Hindu fundamentalists. Religion is a force both adhesive and divisive.In the present time, it is almost quotidian to hear about some conflict in the world whose roots are latently entrenched in religion. From where I can see, the view suggests that its divisive.It led to the greatest exodus in human history.It divided sons of the same father and led them to fight for decades altogether. As HBH Russell believed, religion has done nothing for man but curb his spirit,royally screw his life and deny him his right to indulgence.So much for religion.
Now for God. If I were to refer to Hofstadter, it'd be an endless loop of 'God Over Djinn'(I don't expect anyone to get this reference). God, in the Biblical sense, is the creator of the earth and the heavens. This is one of the arguments that everyone, ranging from evangelists to saffron clad men selling Bhagwad Gitas in the Bangalore Rajdhani Express, has tried.The fallacy is obvious.If you possess the power to create,you ought to be have been created. It becomes what is defined by Hofstadter as a 'strange loop'. Loopy Loopy God Thou Art. God, in the eyes of the rational HBH Russell and Thomas Paine, is a creation of man.Man, in his height of Godless glory,created God to make modesty a continuing virtue.The virtue remains while the sanction of God is proliferated at an exponential rate. The institution has benefited the few of power. His Holiness Pope Leo X is alleged to have said: "It serves us well, this myth of Christ". Myth it sure is,Leo. Myth becomes legend. Legend becomes History. History becomes Scripture. Scripture becomes code. Houston, we have a problem.
In all,I believe George Carlin said it the best: "Religion is bullshit".
In a totally unrelated vein, I detest works of literature that have self-help motivational messages. Those are for dweebs.

Forever Dead

the title is random. As shall be the post.
'Indian culture'. Brilliant term.Brilliant Cliche.Every single act of violence against expressions of love, the fairer sex and anyone who dares oppose all of this is justified at the behest of Indian culture. If those proliferating this nonsense had their way, my mum would've never got her PhD. My sisters would've never been able to exercise their right to education. Like 'good' Indian women, they'd be illiterate, subservient and oft abused.
If their ideology was to be subscribed to, Hinduism says that men and women are to not fall in love with each other. Any external or material manifestation of their love is to be questioned and quashed by any means possible.Even from the point of an atheist, this is fiction penned down with a lot of imagination.Let us not debate scripture, for the Bajrangis shall lose hands down on that point. Let us rather solve a silly little paradox here. Prithiviraj Chauhan is listed as one of the inspirations for these organisations, as he managed to defeat the 'bad' Muslim ruler, Mohammed Ghori. The same Prithviraj who abducted Samyogita in order to defy society and marry her.Go Bajrangi,solve.
If we are to progress on the incorrect premise that Indian culture advocates repression of free expression,then the very idea of free expression should be repugnant to Indian society. A clear proof of it being an incorrect premise comes from the fact that policemen in Delhi, without any orders or instructions,were bashing up the Bajrangis who dared to create any disorder. 'Screw you saffron brigade' is the clear mandate of the urban Indian population, which is somehow conveniently ignored by the fundamentalist groups.
One of the many reasons for my apostacy, this.Hail Bertrand Russell.

ءردء اءر بعنازیر بھءتته

For the past one month, I've been on an off-and-on Urdu learning spree. I can read and write Urdu with average fluency now. It's quite an exciting prospect to learn a language. It's like diving into a world full of human expression. If my language spree continues, I shall graduate a polyglot.
At NALSAR, we rarely get the time to read beyond the course (barring Political Science, wherein we do manage to read things of interest although the didactics are absolute bullshit). I'd vowed to myself that I'd read a lot this semester.Being an avid reader, especially of works that relate to politics or humanity, reading Benazir Bhutto's autobiography, "Daughter of the East", was quite an irritating exercise, partly due to her fibs and partly due to a mild fever that I'd acquired. She's glorified her father beyond the wildest imagination of any person who knew about Zulfi's politics. She went to the extent of saying that it was Mujibur who was responsible for the 1971 war, at no point mentioning that it was her own father's ego that led to the Bengali agitation and the formation of the Mukti Bahini. The very same father did not allow Bihari refugees from Bangladesh, who'd supported him through the war even though they were residents of East Pakistan, to settle in Pakistan. Those people exist today sans rights,passports and worst of all,food. They can be seen in the slums of Delhi,Bombay,Calcutta and possibly, smaller towns of East India.The same father who spoke of Roti, Kapda and Maqaan but never spoke of how he wished to provide those to the common Pakistani. He was every bit like the Quaid-e-Azam. Pakistan's Quaid-e-awam, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who never cared for the Awam(Common Populace). The period described by Benazir is the time of General Zia. Zia is accused of having proliferated Islamisation in the legal system. However, it was Zulfikar and not Zia who'd started it. In a half-hearted Islamist gesture, he'd declared Friday as a public holiday and banned drinking and gambling.It is highly regrettable that a woman of the stature of Benazir(although, from what has been written about her, it can be inferred that she was an academic disaster) had to resort to this degree of untruth to back her campaign and to forward the interest of PPP.Enough of Benazir bashing. Daddy may not approve.
My love for poetry in chaste Hindi was something that gradually died after I discontinued formal instruction in the subject. These past few days, thanks to Abdaal and Urdu, I'm rediscovering poetry and have fallen in love with Ghalib's "Hazaron Khwaishen Aisi" and Majaaz's "Awaara".It's always been my belief that Hindustani poetry manages to convey emotion, particularly sadness, in a much more intense manner than English. English poetry, particularly that of Milton,is impressive but lacks the depth of Hindustani. An example of which is Taraana-i-Hind by Allama Iqbal(What we term 'Saare Jahan Se Acha').
Enough.The law of Contracts harks silently from a corner. To quote Carl Emmanuel Bach,"I'll be Bach".(And I shall forever be glad for batchmates who've heard of the Goldberg Variations; and I succesfully managed to lose my Glenn Gould CD).

In Memoriam and Undying Respect

"Aye mere watan ke logon, zara aankh main bhar lo paani
Jo shahid hue hain unki, zara yaad karo qurbani"

This is my personal homage to the men who shed their lives so that you and I can sleep with contentment and security.To the men who died for their nation, a nation that has scarcely rewarded them. Sometimes, patriotism becomes a love beyond sanity. And so it was for them.I do not suggest bombing Pakistan or killing the politicians of India. All I suggest is that let this time, Indian be Indian before anything else.
I wish we never forget this incident, these martyrs.

Karz in shahidon ka hum chuka na payenge kabhi,
Par mil kar ye koshish aur dua karen,
Ki jo aane waali nasal is jahan ko dekhegi,
Wo ek roshan aur sunehra jahan dekhe, Inshallah
-Anjaney Das
27.12.08
(I'd refrained from writing anything till now because I've always felt that putting emotion into writing always conveys much less feeling than what is inside a person)

Bhaiyyaism

The movie 'Deshdrohi'(Literally,one who betrays the nation) has been quite in the news the past 2-3 days. It's a movie depicting the amount of hate that a migrant from UP and Bihar has to face in Bombay. Fearing retaliation from the parochial Maharashtrians, the movie was banned from being screened in Maharashtra.Quite proximate in time,considering Raj Thackeray was cutting a cake today which was shaped like the Hindi text for the word 'Bhaiyya'. 'Bhaiyya' is a term, meant to be derogatory, used to address North Indians residing in Maharashtra.
Personal animosity aside, I condemn Thackeray's views owing to the fact that they are separatist in nature. Due to 4 months of law school, the first thing that strikes my mind is the illegal and unconstitutional nature of his views and their manifestation,ie, acts of violence against migrants. I do concede that migrants have infested the city of Bombay to the point where quality of life has reached hitherto unknown depravities. I however, do not see this as a reason good enough to draw lines between Maharashtra and the rest of India. We have lived a farce of unity for 61 years. Albeit a farce, it has managed to lead the various nations within India towards a common upliftment. Thackeray is of the opinion that jobs in Maharashtra should be reserved for ethnic Maharashtrians. In such a situation, where exactly do the muslims of Bombay, who've inhabited the city for over 7 decades, stand? Oh wait, they're Muslim. Therefore, by the definition of Thackeray Sr., they're not Indians. Matter settled.
Parochialism has been prevalent in Indian politics for quite some time. Periyar's anti-Hindi agitation, a movement I abuse superficially, is a thought that I wholly agree with. A language, alien to a people, cannot be enforced on them to suit a farcical national interest. It was a latent expression of domination which deserved to be questioned by all means possible. Language has always been a sensitive factor in India, considering the states were re-divided on a linguistic basis after the Fazl Ali Commission Report. Here is where the fallacy in Thackeray's argument lies. Most of the Maharashtrians study, or at least know, the basics of Hindi. There is no active anti-Hindi movement in the arteries of Maharashtra. How does the question of learning Marathi compulsorily come in to play? Trust Raj Thackeray to answer that.
The day is one where a man cannot move around in his own nation. Are we then really 'an indestructible union of destructible states'??
The CM of the state accuses Thackeray of besmirching the name of the state. Thackeray is doing what demagogues of his state have been doing for over a century now. From Tilak to Savarkar to Godse to Golwalkar to Thackeray Sr., the politics of hate has always been the hallmark of the state. The average,middle-class Maharashtrian is Indian over anything else. It's only a bunch of goons, from times historical to contemporary, who manage to fan hate to the extent where the majority's sane voice is drowned in an orgy of violence.
The need of the hour is silencing all polemic, by means lawful, unlawful or plainly inhuman. Our quest to survive rests on a threadbare base that needs to be supported at all times. Let's hope this fire is temporary.