The Politics of Nothing

‘Terrorists stage a multitude of attacks on India’s commercial capital Mumbai. Blasts rock Ville Parle and Churchgate’

This was the news which confronted me first thing in the morning on November 26^th (as I currently work in USA).

Well, what’s new ?

‘This is the first time that terrorists have spread out into groups and fired indiscriminately on citizens’

Okay, well atleast something is new about this scenario. I wondered why this news did not even cause me to bat an eyelid. This despite having deep connections to Mumbai (being born in Mumbai and most of my maternal relatives hailing from the city) .

Although my heart went out to the victims of the attacks, I could not help brush aside a feeling of nonchalance and disinterest. I wondered as to how I had transformed into this ‘callous’ person who could no longer relate to the reality of a terrorist attack and the pain that it subsequently brought. My thoughts went back in time to the afternoon of December 13^th 2001. I was merely a young lad studying in Std 12. I could remember vividly the events that unfolded on TV that afternoon. As I returned from school, my grandmother exclaimed to me – “Teja, terrorists have struck at the parliament. There is a gun battle going on !”. Being a hot blooded teenager, the news angered me and it gave rise to a feeling of bloodthirsty revenge. I was confident that the BJP government at the center would respond in kind, avenging the attacks that had struck at the very heart of Indian democracy.. But however, after much grandstanding and posturing, it became evident that India was not going to respond afterall.

Months passed. On May 14^th 2002, terrorists had struck again, their target being the soldiers’ psyche. Terrorists had killed the kith and kin of soldiers serving at the nation’s borders. I was seething with rage again. Surely this kind of attack warranted a response. Fiery speeches were made by the nation’s leaders. Rhetoric ruled the airwaves and war was imminent. But however, I was once again stymied to find that India lacked the backbone to retaliate.

Despite being sorely disappointed, I somehow nurtured the factitious belief there should be a valid reason behind India’s reluctance to act. Months later, Akshardham followed.

Power changed hands in 2004 and India stepped from the frying pan into the fire. In July 2006, blasts rocked Mumbai’s commuter trains. But however, this attack was also brushed under the carpet and accolades were showered on Mumbaikars for their fortitude.

By the fag end of their tenure, the UPA government became the laughing stock of the world as terrorists struck week after week at different cities across India. All the government did was watch from the sidelines.

Then my thoughts came back to the present. As I write, Afzal Guru is still alive living a life of luxury in prison. I smirked as I realized how impotency and apathy had become ingrained in our psyche. I logged into social networking sites like orkut to find my fellow country-men engaging in a war of words over the attacks calling for ‘immediate action’.

But however, I have come to realize that in India, life has no value and action is mere fallacy.

I bet that the coffee shops inside the Taj will be teeming with people within a week and that the attacks will be forgotten.

Wanna bet ?

- Tejas