SHAME ON THE GUWAHATI STREETS

 The pictures are not of any super heroes doing some social work rather they are some beasts born out of human womb. A night that shook the city, where a girl of 17 year old was molested by about 20 males and the by-standers instead of protesting too indulged in the heinous crime.  And above that a journalist named Gaurav Jyoti Neog from News Live, a private news channel in Assam, filmed the entire disgraceful happening and not only that but also provoked the mob to harass the girl. The girl was pulled by her hair, lifted up, thrown down, beaten up, thrashed, molested, groped, slapped and stripped in full public view for 30 minutes on Monday night at a busy road near the Christian Basti area in Guwahati by the mob.

Guwahati, the land where Goddess Kamakhya is worshipped, has witnessed such a barbaric incident. Some questions haunt the minds of the youth – Where does the morality of people stand? Is it fair to blame the other cities when their people do something wrong on our people where we only can’t protect our own people? Is it that wearing short clothes is the main reason behind such incidents? Then the answer for the last question is a big ‘NO’. Even in Taliban ruled nation we find that women are molested whereas they are behind the veil all the time. The problem lies not in the short clothes but in the mindset of the people. If a man gets tempted by looking at a girl wearing shorts that can only mean that the animal instinct is always present in that man and its just about getting the chance. Does this kind of people get provoked when they see their sister wearing shorts? – A weird question that I should ask. The problem is not with the clothes but with the mindset of the people. Women should be respected and not just seen as an object of ‘SEX APPEAL’. The molesters too might have wife and daughters what if they face the same thing in public?

Last but not the least, the electronic media or any form of media plays an important in moulding the society and is considered as the fourth pillar of democracy but if the pillar shakes then the foundation is destined to fall. The poor journalism that the reporter involved in the incident has shown indicates that they are yet to learn the ethics of electronic media where videos containing abusive, violent and sensitive issues are prohibited. The media could have exposed the culprits instead of defaming the girl. A journalist is also a citizen of India and being a citizen the prime duty should have been to protect the girl or at least call the police for help, if the help had at all been the intention. The inhumane and unethical step has left a huge question mark on the journalists of Assam.

A safe city is one that promotes the elimination of gender-based violence, while at the same time promoting equal opportunities for men and women in all the spheres of social, economic, cultural and political life (access to employment, education, political participation, resources and leisure, etc.)

This is the time that we, the Indian youths stand against this and call for justice as if it is not now then it can be never. And the future journalists should learn from this and indulge in constructive way rather than making a fuss of the issues which affect the society adversely.

Turn Around - There are more people troubled than U

Human, a rare type of God's creation, always unsatisfied with what he has. If we as an individual sit in seclusion and contemplate, some of us may admit (while many will not) that our wants are many and satisfaction, the minimum. Working at GNRC, I could realize that no people are aloof of problems and the tension  that crops thereafter. This story is dedicated to those who brood over their fate, declaring themselves to be the WORST sufferers in the World, Universe or "the Bramhaand".

(The name of the characters are not original but the story is!)

Mr. Rajesh Bhuyan, working as a "haavildaar" was sitting near the NICU (Neuro Intensive Care Unit) and was continuously wiping the sweat on his forehead. Looking too tensed and helpless a pain reflected in his face that proves that there are certain inevitable things for man.

Simona, an employee of GNRC, walks upto Mr. Bhuyan and asks, "Sir, what problem is bothering you so much? May I help you in any way?"

Mr. Bhuyan replied in a resistant speech, "Nai eneke eku nohoye mur daangor loratu NICU't aase heibaabe chinta koriasu. (Not such, actually my son is admitted in the NICU. Just worried about him)."

Simona guessed right, there was more than he was telling or trying to express. She again politely asked him and Mr. Bhuyan could no longer suppress his thoughts and worries and poured his heart out.

Mr. Bhuyan started, "My son is very serious but he can be cured the only thing is that I do not have enough money to complete the treatment. I do not know from where to manage the money. My eldest son died because I did not have money but do not want to loose him."

Simona asked, "Seek help from your relatives, don't u have one?"

Mr. Bhuyan said, "They said they can not help me as I don't have enough income to clear their debts."

Simona too helplessly heard the man speaking the pain of his heart. As she was called by another sister she had to go. Simona asked his number and he readily gave with a hope that she might be able to help him, though she had the least power to do anything of such sort. While going she was just helplessly looking back at the person. The day after Mr. Bhuyan was leaving the hospital to shift to GMCH due to his financial crunch.

Simona after two days of discharge, while she was about to leave for her home, called Mr. Bhuyan and asked about his son. The reply made tears roll down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and she became cold and hard. The words "MY SON LEFT FOR ABODE" pinched her and she felt that HUMANITY is nothing but a hollow concept.

She was left with a question, "Why sometimes MONEY becomes greater and more vital than a LIFE?"

Nature at it's Best

RESURRECTION

Born with hope,

To myself cope -

With the longest struggle

Taking help from my own to juggle

But … What I see!

Oh Lord! Bless me

People who were my own –

-          changed so soon.

Unconditionally I loved them.

But with conditions they came

Do I not deserve?

Is there no love reserved?

-          For me!!

I wonder how I changed

Things became so strange

Own people turned back

How could they sack?

May be I expected more

Someone else was in their core.

Slowly, I became poison for all,

Days passed by and I began to fall.

A ray of hope always did shine.

Someone else is still mine.

Holding hands I crossed the hurdle

It has been too long I left my cradle.

Now that I have an identity

I want to show my authenticity.

Revenges storm my mind

But I cannot forget my kind.

Everything left upon YOU,

Oh Lord! People who know me are few

You judge everything

And I accept everything

Hope to get resurrected

Oh lord! Why have you created?

--- POULAMI CHAKRABORTY

Photography

The Mighty Brahmaputra

The Funny city bus ride

City bus, the common Chariot of the modern day warriors (if we call our daily life struggle a war) can sometimes be the witness of such funny incidents that the struggle turns into a fun and worth remembering anecdotes.

Let me share this with my readers and spread the smile that I had on my face when I was listening to my friend narrating the story. Medha, my childhood friend and a funny character to be with, was always on her toes to make a dull and boring moment into jovial and interesting. One day we planned to meet at CCD and she promised me to make the date (as we thought why should only couples go on dates even friends can go on date) interesting. We took the nearest table and ran our eyes through the menu card and ordered the lowest coffee as we both, though not miser, were not a spendthrift. 

Medha said, "Polu remember I told you once that we are assigned to find sponsors and jury members for our annual fest?"

 I said, "Yes, I do."

Medha said, "That's good now what happened is, that the day I was assigned to meet one of the jury members I went to Commerce Bus stop and was waiting for the bus to Goswami Service but was feeling too low and bored. Was wondering if I would have had a companion. Suddenly, I saw an aunty too waiting for the bus near me. Just to pass the time I thought of talking to her but was not getting how to start the conversation. Then an idea clicked my mind and I asked the lady, "Aunty, will the buses from here go to Goswami Service? " She replied in affirmative and with a smile as if even she wanted to have a company to talk. She asked me if I was new and that where I stay and where my parents are. Just the moment before I did not have the idea that I am going to create a new identity altogether.

 I said her that I belong to Duliajan and was staying at hostel and started making stories as if I really stayed at hostel, which just remained as one of my many dreams, and was really new in the city. She talked with me and warned about the bad things of the city. I found her quite interesting but unfortunately my bus stop came and I had to get down. Suddenly, I realized that I was feeling down while leaving her as if in that small span she became my very good friend. I asked her number which she readily gave and told me to contact her whenever I need her. I had a smile on my face but a disappointment in heart. May be I should have not lied. Or if I would not have lied we could not meet. Whatever, whatever happens, happens for good.

"And now I know Polu who that lady, actually is and why I felt so" said Medha.

I said, "WHO was she?"

Medha smiled and replied, "She was my Mother-in-law, whom I met last week for the first time."

We both laughed a lot and by the time we looked at each other the cup filled with coffee came down where even a single sip was not possible. We criticized them for serving so less. Human nature - we want more than whatever we have. We parted and the whole night I was wondering what Medha told me.