Let The Candles Shine Brighter

This Thursday will mark the anniversary of a dark day in the country’s history that no Indian would ever want to forget. The gory visuals flash across our eyes once again, and a seething pain runs through our veins – a pain that can probably best be fathomed by my fellowmen who were present at the sites or by those who lost their loved ones in the tragedy. Today, we ask ourselves once again – has the common man woken up to the assault?
First things first. This was not the first terror strike that has shaken us. There have been plenty. And by now, the common man – which includes you, me and every other person who has asked the above question – would have garnered sufficient prudence to realize that something needs to be done. This was affirmed by many an angry voice a year back, as well as today. Very well, yes. But I reckon it is worthwhile to sit back, ask ourselves what the ‘something’ is, and get started.
As commoners with limited offices, it is reasonable to argue that there is not much action we can initiate except for sounding preachy, that often veneers towards sounding hollow. But if we cut through the fetters that bind our thoughts, we will see there is much that can be done.
For starters, it is imperative to appreciate the importance of internal tolerance (if not brotherhood) before crying foul over the foreign forces that act filthy with us. Sure, terrorism is a burning issue. But let us not ignore the pressing need for first accepting each other the way we are, and for putting an end to the factionalizing of our fellow Indians.
We still get into meaningless brawls on the roads. We still argue over which God is greater. And we still resort to violent assertions over regional rights to local residents. And then we hold candles to pledge solidarity. Do we not see the stark paradox?
A tragedy of unforeseen proportions struck, and we were all out on the roads, conducting protest marches(I’ll make no bones of the fact that I was a part of those marches too). The intent behind these acts is well taken. But did we ask ourselves of the real value they brought to our objective? For all you know, those marches may have affected a fellow Indian who was trying to get to a hospital in an emergency. When the solidarity mattered the most, the voter turnout in the elections was not so much as fifty per cent. Sadly, this speaks very poorly of our will to fight for our rights.
Think about it. What might go a longer way in helping India would be to take ownership of individual responsibility. Why don’t we form groups of like-minded people; identify and promote able youngsters in whom you see the perfect bureaucrats of tomorrow - a much better deal than to hold placards demanding the damning of the current government? Why don’t we stop asking why the Indian defense and intelligence infrastructure are not as efficient as the FBI and the CIA, and start contributing with our little bits of responsible civilian behaviour, so that the attention of these forces can be focused on the real issues at hand? Why don’t we render a smile of gratitude to the security guard at the mall for taking those extra six seconds to scan our satchel so he can ensure our safety, instead of scoffing at him for delaying our entry into the cinema hall?
Let’s ask ourselves these questions. They need simple answers which can be addressed within the realm of our own little capacity. These answers might just kindle our minds. And then, the candles in our hands will shine brighter. And longer.

What's Your Worth?

This morning, I held a copy of my new novel for the first time. It was a magical, almost surreal moment to see in complete flesh and flair a product I had been trying to give shape since the latter half of 2007. An interesting journey this, of over a year and a half - compiled by moments of ecstasy where ideas flowed generously, months of frustration where I nearly pulled my hair out for want of ideas, and eons of uncertainty as I faced multiple rejections from the publishing fraternity before finally landing the right choice. A friend asked me how easy was it to cope with the impatience and anxiety. To which I replied, "Very difficult, unless you can remember to always ask yourself the quintessential question: "What's your Worth?"".

Circa 2005, I was attending a B-school fest with some friends from college. Not surprisingly, I was not who you'd call the shining MBA star in the group of twenty, who was to achieve something magnificient in any of those contests. While the other nineteen had proven their prowess in some contest or the other, I had not so much as made it through the elims of any of them. And this ugly truth was brought to the fore by one of them, who said as we all sat for dinner: "Come on, Nishant, will you ever show your worth somewhere at least?"

The triviality with which the comment was made was not important. It was the hurt that lingered within for months at end that got me to ask myself, "What indeed, was my worth?" I found the answer in due course of time and discovery. Today, as I see my books in the store shelves, I am glad I've managed to answer my friend's concern. I have shown my worth - if not to him, at least to myself.

My discovery of my worth is in doing what makes me happy. In pursuing my dream. In challenging myself. And whenever I feel short of breath or tack in the chase, I remember that dinner - those nineteen sniggers, and the one important, maybe unintended advice: to realize my worth.

Humour yourselves with this question. You never know when it helps you take the otherwise unimaginable flight of fancy.