Monday, April 22, 2013

Soldier For Women - V

 
“Women without her Soldiers would be like God without His angels.”
 
What happens when God has no angels beside him? Does he look for a new angel or manages all tasks alone?
 
Women are considered to be the creator of this world. They are the human Gods on this earth. But what happens when God is disrespected? When God is abused for his creation? When God is shackled? Then our soldiers become the angels to bring back the lost dignity of God. I dedicate this post to one such person who had spread his wings to provide God with a safe shelter.
 
Mr. Dharamveer Yadav, Centre Coordinator, CUTS CHD, Chittorgarh, Rajasthan is the soldier for women.
Mr. Dharamveer Yadav
 
 
About CUTS CHD
(Consumer Unity and Trust Society- Centre for Human Development)
In 1983, CUTS, a rights advocacy group, began out of a rural development communication initiative, a wall newspaper entitled, Gram Gadar (Village Revolution). It regularly reaches far-flung and remote villages of the Rajasthan State and has been instrumental in providing a forum for the vulnerable communities and under-privileged classes to get justice. To facilitate intervention process for 'community-based action programmes' at the grassroots level, the Centre for Human Development (CHD) was established in the year 1990 in the village Senti of Chittorgarh district. For more details visit here. 
 
  
THE GALLANTRY STORY
  
Women in Rajasthan are looked upon as the dependent miserable creatures. In the dark house of Shambhupura district, a women was being sexually harassed by her husband. Not enough, she was forced to sleep with other men. And if she denied, the toll was charged on her three daughters. This is one of the most heinous act when a father sexually molests his very own daughters just to allay his cravings. The cries and sobs were all suppressed behind the doors. Until one day, when Mr. Dharamveer Yadav got to know of this family. He at once adopted all the three girls and pulled them out of the kingdom of demon. 
 
The girls in their tender age of 13, 8 and 3 years respectively were subjected to the obscene reality staining the sacred relation of father and daughter. They had lost their innocence in the lust and luxuria of their father. But it never ends until it has ended. So Dharamveer became their father and showered all his care and assistance over the girls.
 
Presently, the girls are studying in a reputated school of Chittorgarh. The financial assistance is provided by CUTS. They have also been given a house to make it a home. Their mother is made self-dependent and now she sews clothes to feed her family.
 
Dharamveer says, after the schooling, the girls will be sent to Jaipur for their graduation. He has tried his best to give the girls a new life with a new vision. Now, the girls are all set to spread their wings to fly high.
 
 
Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ

 
This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com

Soldier For Women - IV

Blasts, riots and terror attacks have been unsuccessful in taking the sheen off Maximum City, Mumbai. But a demon lurking within may just be able to do that. Mumbai was always touted as a "safe city" for women. But when the 'safe' turns out to be 'unsafe', our soldiers come into action.
 
It was the fateful day of 20 October,2011, when Keenan Santos and Reuben Fernandez, the two youths from Mumbai went for dinner with their female friends at Amboli Bar and Kitchen restaurant in Mumbai’s suburb of Andheri West.
 
At 11 pm  Santos, Fernandes and five other friends stepped out for paan after having dinner in the Amboli restaurant . A gang of three boys was also present at the paan stall which started passing lewd remarks. A scuffle broke out between the main accused Jeetendra Rana after he allegedly started harassing the girls accompanying them. Rana retreated, but only to return with 20 friends and stabbed Keenan and Reuben. Keenan was stabbed thrice, while Ruben was beaten up with sticks. The soldiers were allegedly stabbed to death by the group after they objected to the indecent behavior of one of the men toward their female friends. The girls were able to escape the chaos because of their valiant friends.
 

Keenan Santos and Ruben Fernandes-The martyrized Soldiers

 
The heroes died fighting eve-teasers. But this was not the first time they stood for what is right. Earlier also, Keenan had help bust a piracy and drug racket in the area and Reuben spearhead the Lokpal campaign in his locality.
 

The duo celebrated life each day.
 
This duo was extremely fun loving. They used to party each day. Life was a celebration for them. They were just another men revelling their time. But the virtue of righteousness differentiated these young lads from the others. They risked their lives for the sake of right and left behind the message of respecting and fighting for the honour of every women. I salute these martyrs for their commendable action. Though they are not with us now but the very strong message they left behind will echo in everyone's ears.
            
                                         
 
 

On Facebook, a page has been created under “Zero Tolerance Campaign” against what is proverbially (and ridiculously) deemed “eve-teasing.” Campaign coordinator Maitreyee Achadhat said that the page is a “forum for discussion and awareness on the issue.” She said the campaign is not only in the light of the latest incident in Mumbai but for women anywhere in the country.
 
The problem of eve teasing in the country is getting out of hand. Women everywhere, at least once in their lifetime, have either been groped or pinched or had to bear lewd remarks from men. Under such conditions, soldiers like Keenan and Reuben come to their rescue. But the women should also defend themselves irrespective of the tag of 'weaker and fairer gender'. Self-defence should be made a mandatory subject in the curriculum.
 
To fight a few demons, some angels have to step forward to make this world a safe place to live in. I request all the men reading this to ensure that whenever you come across such situation when a girl is molested by any oaf, please raise your voice. Don't just sit back and dig your head in sand like an ostrich. Fight against the unjust and make the defaulters realize their mistake. I also request the ladies to never keep mum at such awkward situation. Your silence may encourage the dogs to howl loud. Better chain the beasts and draw the line between man and animal.


Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ
This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com

Soldier For Women - III



Soldiers have a tough torso but inside the tough shield lies a soft heart. Winning hearts with silly stupid smiles is the only thing I learnt from this soldier who accidentally barged into the same bogie where I was sitting while heading for Ajmer. The name of this soldier is Anshul Agarwal. I never believed in destiny but after meeting him, I started believing that everyone is destined for something and he will eventually get it what he is destined for.
I met him as a stranger and he started calling me "Chittor ki Gudiya". He acted as a shield to protect me from the cruddy shells in a new city. He pampered me like his younger sister before we got to know that we were actually tied in this bond. Yes! he is my cousin brother but we never knew about each other until the train conflict.
I'm dedicating this post to you Bhaiya for all the support and happiness you brought me all these years. I always yearned for an elder sibbling but who knew this wish of mine would be heard so early. I know you hate poems, that's why I am scribbling down a little one for you. A sweet headache plattered with gratitude just for you.
 
Anshul Agarwal- The Soldier.


"Hehehe Kya samaj aya
Arey beta !
Apan to farzi hai
Tu sabse badi badmash hai
Tu to apni gudiya hai."
Some words which you always stick to
Some words which I love to hear from you.
Silly stupid talks
Trying to pace up with you
Hammering your gyaan into me
Going mad at bakery of
Mango masala and Swami
Lifting the heavy black bags
Resembling the terrorists
Making fun of mechies
Discussing PG stuff at length
Making the first call on my every birthday
Making out my voice from every unknown number
Pulling me out from every grey phase
Throwing me into pink park everytime
Endless roundabout talks
Ending nowhere
Still continuing now and then
Your calmness of sea
Your candidness with me
Tied me with you in a more strong knot
Surpassing the blood relations
You blessed me with smiles.
Your smiles are my reason to smiles
Stretching across miles.

Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ
This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com

Soldier For Women - II

                                     "It takes courage to stand for a woman.
                                 A man having this trait is all making him a man."

 
My Soldier- My Father


The soldier I met was captivated by the enemies when he rescued me from the nasty shackles of imprisonment. To fight with the fettered hands is indeed commendable. I belong to a family where parents are over-caring and in that love and affection they strangle our dreams unknowingly. I'm dedicating this post to the man who has always remained my beau idéal. I have inherited the traits of perseverance and patience from him only. My father , my creator, my mentor, my soldier are some tags which define Mr. Prakash Chandra Bafna as the best person I came across in this little life.
 
It is said that parents live their unrealized dreams through their children. My father wanted to pursue C.A. but my grandmother’s love pinioned him from moving to the town for further studies. He succumbed to mother’s love and let his dream breathe last. He is a man of integrity always giving priority to the family and relationships over materialistic things. But somewhere deep inside he wished to reach the heights. When I was born to him, he was on cloud nine as narrated by my mother. I feel lucky to be born to my parents who never distinguished between a girl and a boy despite of belonging to an orthodox family from Rajasthan. Being the first child, I was pampered more than my younger brother. I still tease him with,” Ma-pa loves me more than you”. And then he tries to put up a “I- don’t- care” face which is hell amusing.
I took my first breath in his palms
Coddled as a doll
Riding on his back
He was my horse
On  Sunday mornings.
Managing the finances
To buy me the best
Was his test.
Calm and quiet
She is a Xerox of her father
Says mob when we sit together.
I feel great to sit under his shade
Soothing my soul
Saving me from all odds
Strengthening me to step ahead.
I’m not able to write down a neat verse right now. But this clutter is speaking volumes just like my father standing tall with his silence speaking volumes. I still remember the first day of my school when I was dropped by him into the class. I remember the way he used to sit overnight rubbing ghee on my palms when my body stirred to 101 C. I can still feel the high leap when he tossed me into the air for I stood first in my class.
 He loves to be known as “Surbhi’s father” rather than “Mr. Bafna”. It was always his gracious presence around me in one or the other felicitation ceremony when his chest would grow double trying to imbibe all the prestige within himself. Though I never felt like I had crossed any milestone but every stone I crossed appeared to be a milestone with his proud face and glistening eyes revealing his love for me. Had he not supported me, had he not gone against my family’s wish, had he not boosted me, I would have withered away just like other girls of the village who end up within the four walls.
My father had lent me his wings
To soar high and touch the sky.
I believe I can fly
I believe I can touch the sky
With his blessings pouring over me
I will make him live his dreams through me.
 
 
Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ
This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com

Soldier For Women - I


Men are beasts. Hungry bastards” were some of the voices that I could hear in the background where a group of student was excoriating the whole men community for the Delhi Rape case, April 2013 ( this time the victim is just 5-years old). But somewhere deep in the heart, I denied blaming all the men. I held a strong conviction that howsoever brutal and cruel some men can be, but the goodness of another few always outweighs the asperity of those mongrels. While I talked to Anurag Yadav today, my conviction came out to be true.

Date- June 8, 2010

A young student pursuing his B.tech from Academy of Business and Engineering Sciences, Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh, was searching for a part-time job not to add to his finances but to foster his interest of spreading knowledge. He was knocked down from eleven coaching institutes. But the never-say-die spirit of Anurag made him ring the bell of twelfth coaching institute, Student Academy, Pratap Vihar, Ghaziabad. The lady luck smiled and the door opened welcoming Mr. Anurag Yadav to pursue his desire of teaching(part-time). But with the T&C label, he was asked to teach a girl who was said to be extremely weak in studies (concluded by the institute persons as per her results. This makes me feel pity for such persons who analyze a student’s potential with just a number game). No other teacher was ready to teach that girl but our hero took this challenge. The girl was economically strained so was not even able to pay off the entire fees but again our hero promised to teach her for free.

The new sun was the symbol of his embarkment on his new mission. A shy girl togged in salwar kurta entered the class with her eyes leading her trudging feet. Afraid and diffident, she shrunk in a chair. Anurag tried to make her comfortable starting off with simple concepts. But things didnt work well. There was something else which was annoying the girl which was easily noticed by his eyes. Two days passed but nothing got on track. It seemed as if her brain was stuck somewhere and she was struggling hard to pull out from the loophole. The next day Anurag went a  little early so that he didnt have to rush for his college. It was the intensity of this challenge which drove him to manage his schedule between coaching institute and his college. He used to go to the coaching institute at 5.45 a.m. to take the classes from 6-8 a.m. and then rush to college at 8.30 a.m.
Three days had passed and still Anurag was struggling with his student. As soon as the girl arrived, Anurag welcomed her with a gentle smile.
Good morning Richa!
Good Morning Bhaiya!
How are you doing today?
Good!
So blank good. Say what you feel or feel what you say.
She kept mum.
You are good at studies. Then why have you stuck to  red 'F's from past two years and a compartment this year?
Bhaiya! first time I failed because I hadn't burnt enough of the midnight oil. Second time fate blew off my lamp, my father passed away and I was not able to come out of that trauma. And this time I feel like a withered leaf waiting to get buried into the soil.
Every child is full of potential and so are you. You are a bud which has to blossom into a flower. Never abash yourself. Whatever you are is perfect. Where does this flower wish to blossom at?
In the hospital as Dr. Richa serving my people so that I can put oil into some dying lamps to brighten them again.
Great! You just aspire for this dream and we will together make this dream come true. Now it's my duty to make you wear the white coat.
 
That day was a turning point in their lives and it seemed they finally had a sound sleep after years of toil.
Anurag was now more of a mentor to Richa. He tried his best to bring  the best out of Richa. Anurag was given the challenge of making the girl yield a positive result in a short span of 17 days. Those 17 days turned out to be the best days where the student and the teacher put in their best of the efforts to reap a good result. Both of them developed an unique bond, as per the academic field- student and teacher, as per the Indian culture- brother and sister, as per the humanity- two strangers drawing water from the same well to quench their thirst of self-satisfaction.
In Anurag's words- Those 17 days, 2 hours each day, filled me with an exotic feeling. First time I got to know what satisfaction is? How much pleasure it gives in helping others? Rest of the words got choked in his throat with his glistened eyes speaking more than his unsaid words.
 I have always believed in the power of words. And Anurag exercised this power. His mighty words woke up the dormant soul of Richa. She was filled with new zeal and enthusiasm to live her dreams which she has been weaving since her childhood. In Richa's words as narrated by Anurag-  "Bhaiya! What I dream is what I'll become".
After a break, Anurag came back to answer all the questions popping in my mind.
 After the short academic rendezvous of 17 days, the girl was back to her city (Bulandshahar). Anurag was helping to make Richa realize her potential. One fine day in August 2010, as Anurag came out of the class, a pleasant surprise awaited him. Richa was waiting for him with one of his uncles. A sparkle tinkled in Anurag's eyes to see her with her face speaking of their victory.
 
Bhaiya! I did it. First class- 60%.
You did everything. I did something.  So ready to step ahead?
Yes! I have climbed the first step. Now I can surely reach at the top.
You can do what you desire to.
 
The calm breeze embracing the two souls with an eternal sense of self-satisfaction and victory blew around them. This was the last time when Anurag bade an adieu to Richa for her bright future.
Those days mobile phones were not common man's privilege. So, no contact could be made by any of them. Meanwhile, Richa joined some coaching institute for PMT (Pre - Medical Test) to pursue her dream but wasn't supported by her family. But she being a brave girl, mentored by someone so chivalrous didn't give up so easily and started taking tutions to manage her finanaces and pay off the fees of coaching institute. It is heart wrenching to know how a family sees a girl as burden and forces her to sacrifice her dreams at the altar of marriage. Richa's condition exacerbated when she chased her dream with Anurag's trust in her by going against her family. The family refused to make her study anymore and didn't pay a penny for her impoverished dreams. She became physically weak pulling herself between studies and job to feed herself. As a result, she fell ill. As Anurag came to know about this through some source, he tried to help her financially but the brave lady chose to fight alone with the nasty circumstances to win. Months passed and the girl was grappling in her hometown.
It was January 1, 2012.
An unknown number appeared on Anurag's cell.
 
Hello!
Hello bhaiya! It's Richa here, remember me.
Hi Richa! How can I forget you. No contact since past 5 months.
I'm still in battlefield. I assure I'll emerge as the victor.
Amen.
 
The line got disconnected. This was the last call made by Richa from a local PCO assuring of a win. Anurag was happy to make a difference. He was satisfied to help a stranger and make her believe in her potential and do justice with her dream inspite of all odds and oppressions from family.
As Anurag completed his narration, an eerie silence reigned. I broke the silence with, "Hats off to you Anurag. People like you are real soldiers."
P.S. Richa couldn't be contacted again after her last call. But we hope that she will call soon to throw us into party shoes. Anurag is my colleague who stood for this girl winning this honorary post from me. Thank-you Anurag for this generous act. I hope many Anurag (s) are helping some Richa (s) to make this land a happy land.
Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ
This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com
 

Friday, April 12, 2013

TANTRA - Book review

                                                       
 
 About the Book

Title: Tantra
Author: Adi
Publisher: Apeejay Stya Publishing
ISBN: 978-81-908636-2-9
No. of Pages: 335
Price: 195 INR
Genre: Thriller/ fiction

About the Author

Adi grew up reading fiction books by flashlight, hiding under the covers, pretending to be asleep. While it would certainly affect his academic life the next day, he did go on to get degrees from Stanford University and Harvard University, so it was not all that bad.

Somewhere along the line, a poetry book and a minor textbook were published. He wishes he could withdraw all copies of said poetry book from the market. At the time, it was poignant, but now it is just embarrassing.

He’s always given more credit for his successes in life to those late-night reading habits of years ago than to the high-school academics he trudged through, and he yearned to write one of those books himself.

Deeply impressed by the vast religious history of India, he could not help but pick this topic for his first novel.


The Cover Speaks

The blue dust jacket embodies the acclamation the story received from a few of the readers.

"Thrilling, action packed and funny. I missed going to the office the next day.      Thanks to reading this book all night."- Tushar Kalra.

The cover pictures a girl with blood-soaked daggers in both her hands sitting at the top of a building with ghostly eeriness spread in the atmosphere.



Synopsis

Anu is a leather wearing, no-nonsense professional guardian with a reputation for killing the most dangerous vampires in New York City. But when her enemies murder the one person she truly cared about, all she wants is vengeance. The only clue points to New Delhi, so Anu puts in for a job transfer.

In India, she finds more than she expected. For one thing, her fellow operatives have made a truce with the vampires. For another, it’s way too hot to wear leather.

At first, it seems Anu’s biggest challenge will be evading the nice boys her aunt wants her to marry. But when children start disappearing, she discovers forces older and darker than anything she’s faced before. All of Delhi is in danger, especially the sexy stranger who sets Anu’s pulse racing.

To prepare for the coming battle, Anu must overcome her personal demons and put aside years of training. This time, her most powerful weapon will come from her mind, not her weapons belt.

Its time to settle down to read about a thriller heroine, known for killing the most dangerous vampires and is now set for a vengeance. So read to know if she is there in your town.


Book Review

The vampire plot with a female protagonist seems to connive the readers in her action sequences. The story is spread over twenty-nine chapters with Anu aggarwal as the protagonist who fights the vampires in the streets of New York. But as she got mired in the trap of a vampire, she chases him in Delhi, India and then begins the pursuit of vampire by a guardian ( Anu, the vampire hunter).  

The way Delhi is sketched in the book enchants one into the beauty of deep and dark city. As the Indian scene takes off, spirituality, religion, family bonding, tantra and much more entices the reader and belts him to the Indian culture.
 
Meanwhile Anu comes to know about Baba Senaka who is involved in a racket of murdering children and innocent people. Then the horn is blew and Anu fights against Baba Senaka with the help of Dr. Sarthak Sharma and Pandit Grover. The tantra part is then discussed at length intriguing the reader into the story. Read the book to know how Anu wins over Baba and his tantra.

In a Nutshell

Adi tried his hands on his first novel with a thriller fiction theme. Though the story lacked a bit of heroism but the efforts put into the making of the draft are commendable.

My Rating

3/5


Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ
 
This review is a part of the biggest Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers. Participate now to get free books!

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

ख़ुशी




फूल की खुशबू  का जादू
अगर तुम्हे मदहोश कर दे
तो खुश हो तुम |

शिशु की खिलखिलाहट
अगर तुम्हारे मुरजाये चेहरे पर
दो लकीरे ले आए
तो खुश हो तुम |

पत्तो की सरसराहट
अगर तुम्हारे रोंगटे खड़े कर दे
तो खुश हो तुम |

समंदर की शांति
अगर तुम्हारे अशांत मन को शांत कर दे
तो खुश हो तुम |

चाँद की छनती चांदनी मे
अगर तुम तारो की बारात मे शामिल हो
तो खुश हो तुम |

खुश न होकर भी
अगर दुसरो को खुश कर सको तुम
तो  ख़ुशी के असली हक़दार हो तुम |

Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ

Monday, April 1, 2013

लफ्ज़



अनकही बातें बयां करते
अनकहे अलफ़ाज़
अनसुनी बातें सुनाते
अनकहे लफ्ज़
ना कहकर भी बहुत कुछ कह जाते
ये शब्द |

Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ