The other night I had a strange dream.

I dreamt that I was travelling in the first class compartment of one of Mumbai's famous local trains, and while traveling, a most strange incident took place. I was near the coach exit, where all the standees are, and one of the commuters, a normal looking man - about 40ish, dressed in crisp formals and holding a copy of The Economic Times - sneezed. When he sneezed, his eyes fell out. He looked up, where his eyes formally held attention there were now two pitch dark sockets. The man started laughing, hysterically, laughing so loudly that his laughter rang throughout the train, cutting effortlessly through the chatter and the ambient noise, going on and on until there was an unnatural hush. I was coming to grips with what was happening when from right behind me, a second man broke into hysterics, jerking his shoulders in all directions as if he were having a fit. He wore dark sunglasses, and took them off with a flourish, to show another pair of empty, staring eye sockets. All around, faces began turning to show people without eyes, people with stares that seemed to come from nowhere, the laughter catching on till the whole compartment shook with laughter; men, women, even a child shrieking with glee, his empty eye sockets staring skywards. I had to look away from the madness, and looked out the sides and saw the train lit up by an amber glow, the absence of any surroundings - the train was going through a void!
That's when this inexplicable feeling hit me that I was travelling on a train that was destined to be traveling forever.. And that's when I mercifully woke up.

Prejudice

The above person is me.
Me, dressed as a - you guessed it - a terrorist. The location is late night at Girgaon. In my right hand I hold a gun, and in my left hand I hold a sword. The whole thing was a set up for my upcoming photography project. The sword which I hold in my left hand is the centre of all my attention, and the cause of the upcoming adventure.
The day was 6th February 2008, one day before photography submission, and the setting was entirely different. I was at my friend Armin Jamula's place, and with me were Suyash Barve, her boyfriend, and Raoul Lobo, my Catholic partner in crime, who was there to assist me with my photographs, just as I was there to assist him in his. Now we had just finished shooting a rather interesting shot which had Raoul dressed solely in leaves, and we had to move on to the next one. The shot was based on the concept of the sword of Damocles, and I happened to have a real sword right there, at Armin's house. The concept was supposed to be a sword dangling by a string over a person's head, with the person's expression one of fury. I wanted a woody location, one that would signify contemplation and tapasya.
I was dressed in a kurta from the previous shot, and Raoul was in civilian clothes, so we just hopped out of Armin's house to look for a garden or some such location, where we could shoot peacefully. I had the sword in my hand wrapped in pink ribbon for the string, and in my other hand was the Indian flag, a prop for a different photograph. I tried not to think of how I must be looking, dressed in a kurta pyjama and a sword, and just stepped out of Armin's house and was about to go looking for a suitable shot with Raoul in tow.
About ten seconds later, we saw a police van stationed. One of the policemen stopped us and asked us what we were doing. I told him that we were Wilson students out for a photography shoot, we had a camera to prove it. The policemen were adamant, however, that we accompany them to the police station, where they would 'quickly verify the origin of the sword' and let us free. I had left my cell phone at home, and as Raoul wasn't allowed to make calls.
Thus we went, on toward the Nagpada police station in a police van, and the cops kept asking questions about where we were from, what college we were in, why we were in possession of a real sword, and so on. We got off at the police station, and were taken straight to the detention area. There the torture began.
About five straight of non stop questioning, abuses, hate, mental anguish began. Their questions and pokes were primarily directed at me, and I could understand what kind of target I presented to these fat, frustrated policemen - A muslim teenager with a sword. They didn't care about the fact that I was well educated, that I came from a good family, that I studied in one of Bombay's best colleges, that I had all the evidence to show that I was out doing nothing more than a photography project, that I had people high up who could vouch for my authenticity - no, all they cared about was that my name was Abdul and that I was a Muslim who lived in Millat Nagar.
"All you Muslims are like this! That area you live in is full of killers! Mother fucker! Have you no sense!" were just some of the flowery sentences that I was showered with. They hardly spoke to Raoul, asking him just the necessary questions.
My saviour was Armin Jamula's mom, an incredible lady to whom I shall be thankful forever. Suyash and Armin were there too, and without their support I shudder to think of my condition. They called the coordinator of my college to confirm that I was doing a project, and the whole drama finally ended when at last, having pored over the constitution with a microscope, they were indeed satisfied that I had broken no law and had spared them the satisfaction of watching of laying their hands on one more Muslim.
There are so many events that happened in those five hours in the police station.. This poor bastard of a mobile thief, his one eye swollen shut, his lips bleeding and his heels probably broken getting thrashed before our very eyes, the other thief brought in and handcuffed to the bars of the lock up, the supercop ACP, who seemed to be a man of iron, slim, tough, and intimidating, so different from the fat, ugly, balding cops we were surrounded with.
I was thinking of the image me and Raoul gave to the cops - a Muslim with a sword with a possible Bhaiyya in tow - refer to mine and Raoul's picture at the bottom of this to know why he would look as a Bhaiyya! And the best part was, all this happened during the MNS tension, when riots were happening left, right and centre in that area.
The aftermath of the whole incident was that the sword was kept in police custody, me and Raoul's bond went through the trial of fire, and I realized who my true friends were, who would be the ones to really stand by me. And suprisingly enough, I still respect and admire cops as much as I always did, it's just that now, for the first time, I understand why people say that the law is blind.

Governance

"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici"
By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the Universe.

The Five Vs spoken by Dr.Faust, the German alchemist of legend to the demon Mephistopheles, when he agreed to trade his soul in exchange for knowledge, later inspiring Alan Moore to create his epic graphic novel V for Vendetta, which is about totalitarian Britain, and freedom as a perspective.

The novel is also heavily anarchist. Now here is a great misunderstanding. Most of us think anarchy means without order; anarchy means without leaders. Monarchy = Anarchy.
Which brings me to my main point about governance.
If you are a teenager, if you fall into that category who are regarded as the 'youth and future' of the nation, then think carefully about what I have to say.
The majority of the youth apes the west, thinks their culture and heritage are something that should be ashamed of, think that speaking in their mother tongues or vernacular languages are something which uncivilised people do, and so on. We sit and blame the government for almost everything around us, think politicians are a bunch of corrupt, rotting old men, and think that there will never be change.
And at this rate, there never will be a change.
Think about all your friends, all the people who are in the age group of 16 - 24, and think of what your future jobs will be.
Then, think about how many of them fall into the following three categories:
1. Agriculture
2. Industry
3. Administration
I'm taking the liberty to assume that it really won't be a stellar majority, which leads to the next question.
From which angle is India Shining?
India today is like the moon, reflecting the Sun's light and deluding itself into believing that the light is its own. Most of our money comes from MNCs and global corporates, and most of our best labour goes into them as well. India right now may be doing very well indeed, but at best it is being carried along on supplied crutches, and when the crutches are removed, the fall might be one that will take a very long to recover from.
The above three industries are the backbone of any nation's development, and if the youth, if the brightest and freshest and most idealistic minds opt to shift away from them, opt to see no future in them, then in which direction is the country headed?
The government needs to seriously rethink its policies, needs to seriously revamp its syllabus and textbooks, and needs to seriously think about removing the Iron Curtain it has currently put up that shuns most of its best potential.
What India today needs are students pouring out of universities and colleges and schools not only with all the usual jobs in mind, but also needs a sizable portion to think about going into the above mentioned industries.
The government recently gave the go-ahead to a medical bill that stated that all doctors should spend a particular time period working in rural India, and I feel that this sort of rule should be extended to as many industries as feasible, because sitting in your air conditioned home in Bandra, sipping on cafe latte and watching Seinfeld, it'll be too easy to fall into the illusion of India Shining.