Mumbai's three day tryst with Terror

The recent terror incidences at the city of Mumbai has not only created an uproar in the city but a nation wide vendetta towards all acts of terror. It makes one wonder what really propels the minds of the people behind these acts. What blinding, all consuming faith ignites their mind, body and soul and demands the sacrifice of innocent lives. The Deccan Mujahideen who took responsibility for these acts is yet another organization contributing to terror and mayhem in our society. I always thought religion was supposed to teach one the difference between right and wrong and make us better people. Recent events definitely tell me otherwise. Surely Islam does not preach causing unprecedented terror in the world or taking innocent lives and yet these self proclaimed Jehadis continue to shed blood, their own and of others– for what–to gain control over Kashmir, Hyderabad or Junagadh. This incident has caused political upheaval in India creating more chaos and the blame-game is on. The real heroes are our Armed forces and the police, many of whom have died protecting Mumbai from the wrath of terror. In the wake of recent happenings I want to salute the armed forces, the police, the staff at Taj and all others who helped end the 3 day tryst with terror and sincerely hope that the ugly face of terror vanishes from our society. 

The Memorial

I was returning home after visiting a friend. I had to change two trams to get home and so when I reached the stop where I had to change, I got off. I noticed something new at the tram stop. The road sign next to the stop was looking different. The pole was decorated with flowers. There was a creeper of bouquets running along it. And below on the base there was a board that said " A friend, a sister, a woman, a cyclist died here today. We pray for her peace"

It was a little memorial to the lady cyclist who died in an unfortunate accident. I realized that one person has an impact on so many lives, shares hopes, aspirations, memories with so many. When one dies someone loses a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend and the list is endless. Life is very valuable be it yours or mine, so lets help everyone live to the fullest and be safe.

What! Where did you come from?

I am doing my usual weekend chores on a Saturday afternoon. Everything is as normal and mundane as it can be. There is nothing novel about the weekly process of cleaning and washing and dusting and then suddenly something changed all that.

Nothing extraordinary but something that stirred up memories within me; some very fond memories. So I had just finished my laundry and had taken the clothes out of the dryer and was folding them. (Yes Yes I know this is boring but I am getting to it) It was my bed sheet's turn to be folded. I just shook it hard once before starting to fold and something rolled out from it onto the bed. It was a small dark object. At first I thought it was an insect and was a bit freaked (yes I am petrified of the creepy crawlies) and I certainly don't expect to find them in fresh and clean sheets. On closer inspection I discovered it was a coffee bean. I was like What! Where did you come from? It was particularly strange because I remember clearly that there was nothing on my sheet when I put it in the wash and I certainly don't think my dryer has coffee beans in it. The strangest thing is I don't have coffee beans in my house. I use instant coffee; so it was a very strange find.

What was so amazing was that the little coffee bean transported me back nearly five years, when I was sixteen. My friend/philosopher/guide/crush I don't really know what he was to me then; had just visited Coorg and had brought me a present. It was a little jewel box with a coffee bean in it. It was a promise that I would never lose it and will always keep it; might sound a bit corny now but it meant a lot then. The coffee bean reminded me of the innocence of that promise and the strong bond of friendship that I still share with him and all my other friends; that I made in those golden years.

After some time when my mind drifted back to reality I realized I still did not know where the bean came from. It certainly wasn't the same coffee bean; as I still have that box with the bean at home in India. All I know is it reminded me of that promise and of a simpler time...

I wonder why...

When my mind starts asking too many questions, I get the strong urge to write. My hands ache to jot down each and every detail of the events that shape the questions in my head and all that which makes me wonder why...

I live in Melbourne, a beautiful city; a city known for its love for the arts. A few days ago when I was passing by the State library with a friend, we both noticed some colourful leaf and animal paper cut outs hanging from the thin, linear branches of a bare tree. Both of us found the installation a little ridiculous and we ended up having a discussion about why would anyone want to take away the charm of a bare tree,to burden nature with yet another souvenir of man's existence. We just dismissed the discussion with a single line "It's all in the name of art."

Please don't get me wrong I am an ardent art lover, I study design at University; it is what I enjoy the most. It is my academic learning that often propels me to question things. It is at one such Public lectures held by the School of Creative Media at RMIT where this question crept in my head again. The lecture was based on art and architecture linked to animals and insects; about the glorious designs of nature. All that talk about art, nature, excess and simplicity boiled down to one question what is it in us humans that makes us commission art projects, buy art, even though it is in fact "useless"; why does it resonate with our feelings, our mind, body and soul.

I wonder why...