Are we politically correct?

They say there’s a mere thin line difference between a leader and a follower…leaders think!

As a toddler I was constantly “made” to do things, who does not go through the “sing song” phase of childhood when parents literally packed us up in uncomfortable clothes and took us to loud birthday parties or elderly get togethers where every second person requested us to recite a nursery rhyme in a sing song manner, may be they thought that’d make us look good and probably that was the discipline of  being. I now wonder whether they actually did that to know how much we’ve grown or did they do it to entertain themselves?

When it was time to be admitted in a school, yet again I was trained how to answer questions like “child! What is your favourite game?” I mean how was I supposed to choose one among the 1000, when that was all I did at the age of 3, may be that’s how small kids are tested, and supposedly I have still not figured why I needed to be tutored for that…

Now that I’ve passed school, I wonder as to, on what basis was I selected, was it because of my “parentally” correct answers or for who I actually was. Well then how does it matter if I behaved like a greedy and annoying kid, who snatched a handful of candies when they were offered to me?

Then when I reached the “exam giving” phase, all that I remember about it was that everybody was completely stressed except me. I mean 2 and a half minutes before the exam sheet was going to be distributed, we were asked to “stand up, join our hands and close our eyes” and recite the early morning prayer, how does it matter if some of us dint even know the exact meaning of the verses, even though that was a ritual and the right thing to acquire positivity.

I used to wonder why we need to study, and how could an examiner possibly give me marks on how much text my brain retained from the textbook. What if I was rather interested to know what happens to the burst clouds after rain, than mugging up texts about what happens to an electron cloud when it collides with another one.

I still cannot figure out of why such small things which we can’t see at all get really important. Because all this while when we are completely boggled and nervous to find out what’s inside the smallest unit like and electron, we are actually missing out on all that we can already see. Now that I am off the school phase, I hardly remember any lectures of physics and chemistry, but I definitely remember moments that led me into deep introspection.  I may not recall what I studied during exam times. But I certainly remember every dialogue of the theatre performance in our school which made me realize how less aware I was.

I was never interested to study about the facts and figures of chemistry but I can recall everyday of shock while watching news when the 26/11 attack took place. It was then that I began to “think”. It was then that I realized that all this while I was only progressing mechanically. The growth of a person begins when he or she begins to THINK and not when he is made to LEARN…

School was not just about studying, it was larger than life, now that I “think”, I realize that there’s so much it takes to know and realize what is wrong and it takes only a little “thought” to become a leader…

For the youth today, the only mantra is “think and act” because may be during the school exams we were helpless and had no option but to write was was learnt, but now it’s in our hands.

For how long will we sit back and watch the wrongs only because we need to be “politically correct”, we certainly need to be who we really are and be informed, aware and empowered to the outside world, other than texts…

“Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower.”

CHARIOTEER OF TIME…

“Time is free, but it’s priceless. You cannot own it, but you can use it. You cannot keep it, but you can spend it. Once you’ve lost it, you can never get it back.”

Time immemorial, we have quoted phrases, verses and incidents from the greatest war of history, the 18 day Mahabharata, the evidences of which still keep alive on the land of Delhi.

Delhi, the old Hastinapur, has been the witness of this epic story and this has been proven by archeologists, and geologists, since the shackles of those times lie buried under the sand of Delhi.

Delhi has been the charioteer of time and its land has witnessed innumerable episodes that have written down pages in history. Be it the Mughal dynasty, the war of freedom, the Mahabharata or the biggest political events. Delhi being the capital of India, has a major role in making India what it is today. Starting from republic day parade on 26^th January at the India Gate, or the Independence Day celebrations at red fort, to the commonwealth games in 2010. The various achievements and events of our country have more or less been initiated in its capital. Delhi has come a long way celebrating its 100 years and it has indeed kept changing by the years and generations. One thing that has remained constant here is “change”.

There are innumerable people who walk down the streets and suburbs of Delhi everyday, and everyone has a unique story that breathes in Delhi. One such story is that of ‘raja’.

His name meant “the king” and he believed that he’ll become one someday. Raja was school going when he came to Delhi. He had heard from people that delhi serves as a home to many and fulfills dreams a million. He was young and dreamt of becoming big one day. Walking down the railway station, he felt a sense of belonging to this place. Completely unknown, this place still welcomed him with open arms. Soon as he was walking down the lane, he was beginning to gather confidence; his feeling of being a stranger was slowly dissolving into the sight of crowded footpaths. A gradual smile began to lift through his face. He came across a numerous towering buildings which gave him hopes of rising up, he came across very many people walking down or driving by to their workplaces which inspired him and made him wish for a fair chance for him too.

He walked by the crowded and busy streets of old Delhi which made him smile in rejoice on watching hot jalebis and pakoras at every sweet shop and steaming tea at every nook and corner he walked by. He was appalled at the fast life out there, rickshaw pullers busy cleaning up their 3 wheelers hoping to see some extra customers in their day ahead, ladies were engrossed in early morning tasks like drying clothes, sending children to school, cooking while some women also hurried to their workplaces. He was amazed at the site of rush at jama masjid which made him realized that he wasn’t the only believer in god.

He kept walking when suddenly one of his slipper slipped out, he looked back at that slipper and passed a slight smirk as though that slipper owed him an apology for having broken his gaze, he smiled back to it forgiving the poor slipper and then kept moving. He came across an enormous landscape flaunted with huge red walls, flanked by the tricolor flag at the top, and it took him no time to realize that he was watching the red fort, about which he had read in his text books. That day, he saw the variations that came along his way. He saw the lively face of delhi and also the fast pace of life here.

Ever since that day of his walk down the streets of Delhi, he has loved this place, more that he has loved himself.

He found a home at a place that shows him the diversity of Delhi. Every morning he watches Mr.kapoor wait for Mr.Iyer to board his car so they could leave for their job. He loves to watch Mrs.gupta argue with mrs.ghosh for water every morning. He is overjoyed to watch bittoo smile and walk to his bus stop to board his bus for school.

His gaze and admiration of all this is often interrupted by his clients at his workplace, who pay him a fair amount of money for his job. Many a times he gets valuable stuff as perks of his job and his dreams keep growing by every passing day.

Raja is no businessman, neither a fairly earning govt employee. Raja was a runaway from his village a few years back and today he works at a tea stall on a footpath in a lost suburb in Delhi. He is often interrupted by his so called “clients” who naturally are people who come to buy tea at his stall and break his gaze of the surrounding. He lives on a roadside near a dump yard and while scrapping down the garbage, he finds valuables like lost bracelets, fallen coins and unusual articles, which he preserves as his perks.

None the less, he loves to watch every day pass by and admires the spirit of Delhi. Delhi gave him the freedom of admiration, the freedom to walk alone and dream as much as he can, the freedom to look at things the way he wants to and the freedom to breathe…the freedom to do all that his village did not give him.