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Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Comparing The Right

13th January 2011 – 11:35 PM- It was just one of the normal days, which I thought I was witnessing. Having walked down the streets of Chandni Chowk – the only thing, which diverted my eyes from straight edge road ahead, besides the humping dogs, was the wet mud, jammed rickshaws and Betal spit up foot marks.


Was this all that we come to witness? Is this the legacy of humans and their virtues of eye? Where has the seriousness gone? Aaghhhh…

Flashback:- 13th January 2011- 1:48 PM. Writing down my daily (compulsive) fashion articles via my ever so giving up keyboard I recalled few scenes of a courtroom from a Bollywood flick. The judge was giving his verdict and the typist was obliging the pages with some imprints; ehh ehh.

Suddenly as I tried to rest my eyes and have some peace in mind I heard a mourning sound. In grief and pain, subdued and set aside it was spine killing calling for help and the picture of it coming from had no evidence, that I could see. So I, my eye lids to search harder and there it was a blur but crying picture of a weeping ‘Typewriter’. Aan haan you heard it right with the knocking punch!

But, then how can a typewriter cry was my question to myself. It was lifeless and a piece of garbage to say the least when of no use, but it was crying; and mind you in functional state. Unlike of natural me I offered my ear to its plea and tried to figure out what it was up to. And it definitely wasn't 'Sex on the Beach'...

He prays and I quote ----

“Lord, out of all the creatures that you have made, I feel the most hated and unwonted. I cannot talk to people in person and curse them for anything that you decide to be good or bad. The outcome of changes in their life comes from me and I hate to be the witness. It’s me who writes the docket of marriage for lovers in courts, it’s me who contributes to the cheating of defense ministers for coffins to be bought for dead soldiers, I have to shoulder the news of anyone who wants to payback his home loan but cant as he has no job and I write their destiny for being homeless in near future. The plea of an innocent father is delivered to be negative by me in the court of law, I have to hate my existence when an officer denies to write the complaint against a rich person and I am proved to be useless, wish it was me who was raped. I am tired of breaking the marriages and signing with authority, I am sick of delivering notices for credit card fraud (which are given to consumer by force via banks), I wish to de throne myself when an educational loan is denied because there is no security to be provided, and lord I am drenching in tears made of blood and begging you to not let me type the word DEAD.”

Boom and I open my eyes thinking; what all do we see in our life to feel bad and tortured? This poor chap has got enough to handle of whole world when compared to the nuisance of our circle limited to few friends and (who don’t show up in need) family, which would not even want to think about us much.

We are more worried about the rising prices of Onions and crude oil but have zero level of respecting the human life, which we are to.

I am forced to think about this story of a Typewriter and compare it with my life and I shall get back to you on this…

What about you ???

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