Holy Cow!

May 12, 2014 at 9:15 PMMay (Activism, Friends, Musings, Slice Of Life, Soliloquy)

I walked out.

I was angry and helpless. Anger was leading to helplessness and helplessness to anger.

Recital and interpretation of Mankutimmana Kagga had been organized and I was there with my parents. The one singing the lines from Kagga and interpreting it made reference to the cow, holy cow, while speaking of virtue. Mentioning the cow, holy cow, he said, “What should we do/ say when people are now slaughtering the cow?” His tone got a bit aggressive while uttering those words. The audience, on hearing this, applauded. The applause was suggestive of approval and endorsement.

I walked out.

Standing outside the auditorium I waited for my parents to come out. They wouldn’t come out without the programme coming to an end. I waited.

When the programme got over I happened to see a former colleague and friend come out. As I was talking to her my mother came towards me. When I introduced my mother and my friend to each other she asked my mother how she found the programme. When my mother said, “Good,” my friend looked at me and asked the same question. “His singing was good not his interpretation. His interpretations are very old and had no new insights to offer,” I said and added, “I was angered by his comment on cow slaughter.”

My voice must have risen, in anger, while saying that I was angered. “Why do you get angry because of that? You should see it as his point of view his perspective his opinion and respect it,” said my friend. Listening to this my mother said, “Tell him. This is how he behaves always.”

I walked towards the parking space and took out my scooter.

That night while having dinner my mother advised me, “Not to get aggressive while tabling arguments,” because “It is not good.”

Why don’t people who expect us to respect people’s point of views and opinions never asked anyone to respect other people’s food habits and way of life? Why dint my mother find the aggressiveness of the interpreter objectionable while she found my aggression objectionable? – with these questions locked in my heart I walked into my room.

Kabeer who was killed just a week ago, Haajabba-Hasanabba, Nazeer walked in the alley of my mind. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to scream. If anger is not permitted/ approved while standing amidst injustice and untruth what else can one do but not scream?

If my helplessness and anger is such then, I wondered, what could be the anger and helplessness of those who are the direct victims of this injustice. I couldn’t imagine.

The horrific nature of our times has gone beyond imagination, I realized.

[Originally written for Vartamaana and published on April 28]

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