1. The art of begging
Looking at the local-station side beggars of Mumbai, I wonder if begging was an organized profession. If it was, it had all structural and behavioral aspects to it like any ordinary organization - There were timings, the office timings during which there was maximum footfall at the stations, there were focus areas, the stations which saw extraordinarily large numbers of people boarding and getting off the trains, the right communication, whether to say "aap ki jodi salaamat rahe" or "uparwala aapko bohot dega" or "khaana khaalungi beta", the target audience, an ability to pin point who will dwell down their pockets, the advertisements, whether to look handicapped or beaten or famished or simply pregnant and finally the account keepers & controls, handling collection, counting, division and distribution of salaries.
It may come across like a very cruel thing to compare begging to a profession, but it seems very likely that it either has or is shaping into one. I wonder if someone could do a dipstick research on it and understand how it really worked - whether it is a machinery in place or whether it is what it is supposed to be - impoverished, ill-fated people begging for their daily survival with no place in the world to go to and no ambition of a possibility of a better life for themselves and their children.
2. Last few minutes of my life
Articles of abrupt hanging of Afzal Guru, reports of 12 year old being shot at five times by army men and more citing of this genre of news compels me to try and imagine what those last few minutes of life during which the sudden demon of death had appeared would have felt like. What could be the thoughts and what could be the questions that came to the mind of the person who was facing death? Could he have felt like it was a nightmare? Could he have lot his mental stability? Did he feel disoriented? Did he give up, feet helpless and want to cry? Did he want his mother to come save him or visualize his beautiful wife? Would he for a split-second cursor through the possible scenario at his home when his death would be communicated to his family? Did he want to remember God? Did he want to attack? Would he be desperate or simply compliant? Would he think whether he deserved it? Would not a 12 year old be mighty scared? Would his belief in human compassion and general faith have not died a quick silent death before his own mortal one? Would this not be a true example of failure of humanity once again? How could we then expect people to be born and grow up to have a sane mind and quite composure? Who are we? A bunch of nations or people or their governments? What do we compose of? Political systems or human interactions? What are our priorities? Business or Happiness?
