Skip to main content

Perspective



A week ago, while we celebrated our “fake” graduation and took pictures with our friends and got nostalgic over the last couple years of high school, an 8-year old’s family was fighting for justice against a failed judiciary system that’s overrun by politics.


It’s important to put things into perspective.


While I don’t normally write such blog posts and usually tend to indulge in my domain of creative writing, I believe this was one such occasion where I felt the need to speak up and put my freedom of speech to a better use.

Sure, you can argue that this blog post is not actually going to help Asifa Bano and her family, because even though millions have signed petitions after petitions and organised protests after protests across the country, the Supreme Court of India fails to declare a verdict on this horrendous incident.

          What I find unbelievably shocking is how politics is the actual cause of this heinous crime, where the perpetrators are yet to face charges. The fundamental reason for politics to exist in a country is so that the citizens of a country can benefit from a carefully organised government who looks after the needs of their people.

For being the largest democracy in the world, I for one do not see eye to eye with that statement. Our Government fails to respect the rights of religious minorities, especially the Muslims, because after all, Asifa was a Muslim girl who was raped by Hindu men, who wanted nothing more than the entire Muslim community that Asifa was a part of to leave the area and never come back.

If you had to plot a co-variance chart for Indian politics and religion to see how dependent is one on the other, the regression value would be a strong 1.00. The words “politics” and “religion” can be used interchangeably in India, and I promise you that most people won’t even notice.

All I can pray for is that this “Religious Raajneeti” (I hope this term I coined catches on, I actually like the sound of it) reaches its extinction date as soon as possible. Until then, God bless us Indians, and God bless the Divided States of India.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Boiling Frog Syndrome

Recently I had attended a Behavioural Finance and Value Investing course through Flame Investment Lab, where I had come across the term 'Boiling Frog' syndrome. The 'Boiling Frog' syndrome is based on an urban legend describing a frog being slowly boiled alive. The premise is simple: if a frog is suddenly put into a pot of boiling water, it will jump out and save itself from impending death. But, if the frog is put in lukewarm water, with the temperature rising slowly, it will not perceive any danger to itself and will be cooked to death. Why? Since the frog is only slightly uncomfortable with its warm surroundings, it keeps trying to adjust and get accustomed, making itself believe that the slow, gradual change in temperature is normal. Only when the slow change suddenly starts accelerating does the frog realise it just signed its own death warrant. It has already lost its strength to jump out! "The problem is that the human equivalent of the 'Bo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Meant To Be

If she were a season, she’d be spring. Bright, sunny, full of life. If she were a flower, she’d be the rose. Beautiful and dainty. If she were a wine, she would be the champagne. Effervescent and tangy. Different strokes, for different folks.  I still reminisce and cherish that day, the first time I ever laid eyes on her as she walked into the classroom. My mouth, I was told, had formed a perfect 'O'. She was gorgeous. Everything about her seemed so perfect, that somewhere deep inside the chasms of my heart, something tingled and sent a jolt of electricity running through my entire body, charging me with a rush of hormones coursing through my veins, a feeling I had never experienced before. My heart, it seemed, was hammering in my chest, and all of a sudden I became cautious that maybe others could hear it beat too. I could feel the heat off my face, as I blushed red like a ripe tomato in the prime time of its harvest. Try as I might to not glance at her, it seemed as...
3 comments
Read more

Auto-Biography Of A Hopeless Romantic

I fell in love with love. . Age 2. I fell in love with the sound of cuckoos chirping in the balcony. The melodies brought me happiness, the sight of a bird taking flight brought me wondrous curiosity. Love, I realised, was happiness. . Age 4. I fell in love with my toy cars. Playing around with them all day and all night, imagining all the car races I have to win, the sound of my engine revving past the finish line. Love, I realised, was desire and obsession. . Age 6. I fell in love with the sight of planes in the sky. The way they took off from the ground, giving flight to themselves and to my dreams of growing up to be a pilot. I wanted to see more of the word and know more of the world. Love, I realised, was burning curiosity and wonder. . Age 8. I fell in love with football. Beckoning my friends from the minute I came home till the minute my mom called me because dinner was being served, and then wearing my favourite jersey and watching my dream team ...
Post a Comment
Read more