The Beginning of the End

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  And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,

When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,

When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,

A highwayman comes riding—

Riding—riding—

A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

 
     18000 dead. And the count keeps ticking. Death came across and swept his share in a Christmas bag. If any clan had managed to survive the effects of radiation from 1945, not a soul would be spared at the aftermath of the recent disaster. Unlike the previous one, a natural disaster.
     Man proposes, God disposes. They could withstand the 8.9 magnitude earthquake to an extent with their modern structures, but the tsunami swept away half of the nation. But the impact wasn’t felt till the nuclear reactors started exploding. One after the other, they brought back the ghosts of the pasts. And will remain to haunt the Japanese for the next few generations.
     Visualize the plight of an octogenarian in Japan. Having had most of their youth wiped out with WWII, they would have prayed for a better life for their children and grand-children. Alas, not all prayers and dreams are heard out.
     Will the world really end in 2012? Are these the ominous signs that herald the predictions of the Mayan calendar? Perhaps it’s only a poor fool’s digressive thoughts.
     Meanwhile in India, the tension mounts. Not regarding the possible consequences of a similar disaster. Rather on the Indian Cricket team’s chances of winning the cup again (Ever again). Winning the world cup once isn’t an achievement, ensuring that Pakistan doesn’t win it again is the prayer on the lips of a billion Indians. Haven’t we learnt it that way all through out?
      As an afterthought though, would India manage to survive such a catastrophe?
      I understand that the blog has certainly more unanswered questions than statements. Perhaps it’s my current mindset. Every single day I stand witness to strange, grotesque incidents that send a shudder through my spine (like Dhoni’s new found batting style, Nehra’s inability to bowl/bat/field and Piyush Chawla’s leg-spin).
     But on a serious note, the following incident reminded me of the plight of women in India. Harassed, molested and exploited, the fairer sex has to remain fearing the dark.
     At 23, Soumya was the pivot of her family's present and future. Her father had left them five years ago. Her mother who was sick couldn't afford to give up her job as a domestic helper. Her brother was a driver. And when Soumya was offered a job as a sales girl at a shopping mall in Kochi, she decided to abandon her course in hotel management.
     So she boarded a train from Thrissur, after accepting the job on December 29 last year, and hoped she was headed into a world that would at the very least give her her due. Read on.

"I'd rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard, but I know you'll go after birds. Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit ‘em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."





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