KHAKI – A DEAR STRANGER 2

           The feeling of the walls caving in and being suffocated was not the feeling I had expected when I jumped in but I guess that’s the tuborg (beer) does to the brain. The expected feeling of cold water piercing my skin like surrounded by porcupines had started to hit me as the influence of alcohol began to fade. I had to knock multiple times on the walls of the plastic water tank I had jumped into just for fun to get my friends to notice I wanted to get out of there. The overhead tank adventure had got us all feeling hungry.So in our inebriated condition another adventure beckoned us, a midnight trip to the Night food street from Zirakpur to Chandigarh.

         We had a car at our disposal but that wouldn’t have been fun so we decided to go on our bikes. 3 bikes, 6 people night dresses, all of us half drunk by now nearly 13 km ride to the NFS all seemed very exciting. I was riding pillion to my friend Budhiya. The midnight cold breeze had me singing in no time and with hariya trying to poke me from the other bike everytime  the two bikes came close the tune became very intresting mix of the song and anti-jab squeaks. Then shambhu from the third bike egged on by shamsher challenged everybody to a race. It was eyes closed for me from that time and legs and arms tightly wrapped around budhiya I had prayer on my mind and lips.

           And soon enough the prayer was answered we had stopped in the matka chowk not because we had crossed the chequered flag but because two policemen had stopped our group of dhoom machale gangsters and were asking for papers while smelling for alcohol. Those days all the newspapers in Chandigarh were full of the latest drive by the police against drunk driving. The news flashed in front of my eyes and before anyone else could start babbling I started with pleasantries to the officer in my calmest and most charming voice. I guess that is why he was quick to deduce that I was drunk.

       The usual round of excuses and denials started from our part but the officer didn’t seem to be too interested in giving us a ticket. He just kept smiling at our attempts to string so many sentences to get a working consistent story going on. He deduced that we were drunk but much of the effect of alcohol had worn off. So he halfheartedly started getting the ticket book out. I had got the clue from his mannerisms and got a ticket of 100 bucks from my wallet and tried to hand it to him. He reiterated this is not the way, so I got another 100 and gave It to him that did the trick and he went back towards his gypsy probably to give his partner the share.

       We started mounting our bikes and almost put them I gear when the partner officer came running towards us with the 200 bucks in hand looking furious. I got a chill through my spine thinking here comes a lecture about the young generation with their father’s money just wasting away their life’s. when he came near he seemed a lot less intimidating . He was a sardar officer with a flowing white beard and rather had a loving expression on his face. He asked twice who gave this money?? .We were stunned but my hand had gone up in the air without me even realizing. He said son you were going to have some food, go ahead and if you are short on money taker it from me. This is not the way even I have children who are just like you . Now just go and have your food.

         We did go and have our food at NFS and on our way back collected another set of beers from a vend that had a little window open through out the night .But all though the drinking, the riding and the abusing of shambhu because his bike had run out of petrol and we had to foot-tug him along the thought of the noble soul who had showered on me an unique experience of a khaki clad policeman offering me money for food had haunted me. Was it a dream or was I kidnapped by aliens but I guess humanity is still alive around us , sometimes it can be hard to find among the people who beat defenseless women on the street and debate over jurisdiction over the injured body of a victim but it is there somewhere!!!!!!!!

Concentration Camp in Liberal Democratic India

When I talk about concentration camp in India I am not talking about a YOGA camp or a Buddhist meditation camp where the world come to gain NIRVANA but the concentration camps which are usually associated with Nazism, Fascism and Communism and we don’t imagine them to be present in liberal democracies as they represent a fascist, outdated and inhumane doctrine of keeping in fences a section of fellow human beings just because they are different or think differently.

You certainly don’t expect to find them in countries that fought imperialist and colonial powers for hundreds of years to get freedom to decide their own future for the welfare of the citizens of the state. So it took me by surprise when I picked up a national weekly magazine and found an article about a concentration camp located and operated in INDIA.

It was a special edition of Outlook dedicated to 50 years of the war of 1962 between China and India. Along with all often repeated articles and editorials I found this piece which was almost like fiction from a pro-government Chinese citizen, which is quite difficult to find I guessed. So it intrigued me and I learnt that this concentration camp was situated in Deoli, Rajasthan.

Deoli is a city and a municipality in Tonk district, 85 km away from Kota in the state of Rajasthan, India. The camp was a prison before independence for freedom fighters and also used as detention centre for keeping prisoners of war from WW-II. When the Chinese aggression started many Chinese origin people were rounded up from the north-east and eastern states and were transported through a goods train on a week long journey to the concentration camp in deoli.

Most of these people of Chinese ethnicity were Indian citizens and they were imprisoned because they might cause internal disturbances or might side with the Chinese if they reach in the internal areas. The war of 1962 lasted only a month in October that year but the camp ran from 1962 to 1968. Six years of staying inside fences and with soldiers pointing their guns at them. Mostly unhygienic conditions and a harsh climate for people from north-east with very little privacy or other facilities.

India’s second PM Lal Bahadur Shastri was home minister in 1963 and he declared that no internee would be tried for spying or treason. His promise was kept no one was convicted but no one was freed either. Some were asked to return to China and rest were freed after Six years to go back to a life that no longer existed.

The biggest flag-bearer of democracy in the world, America also ram concentration camps after the pearl harbor attack by the Japanese. Nearly 120000 people of Japanese origin were interned in concentration camps for the fear of espionage under executive order by President Roosevelt. But the parallel goes no further because surviving internees in the US eventually received a fat redressal cheque and a letter of apology from the president. No apologies or admittance of guilt from the Indian government though.

The world’s largest democracy needs to learn lessons from the events like this otherwise the scars of Deoli, Delhi-1984, Gujarat-2002 and several other state sponsored hardships will haunt us forever.

Outlook Article – http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?282589