A TRUE CONFESSION-THE REASON FOR STRESS AND DISCRIMINATION IS MAN -HUMOR

My Lord! I have a confession to make. I confess that I am, the man, is the reason for stress for and discrimination against women. From the very beginning I have caused her stress and have discriminated against her in every possible way. It started from the day she innocently offered me that damn apple. Before that she was a very happy person. She would get up in the morning, go about her usual chorus, wander in the vast splendor of the mighty ocean on her boat, occasionally anchor the boat close to some island, collect fruits for a few weeks’ requirement and return to her heaven under the banyan tree for a good night sleep. Then I appeared as I had lost my way in the vast expanse of the ocean and requested her to show the way. She was kind to offer me some sweet water and a fruit which later on I came to know was called apple. I ate the fruit and drank some water and asked for her permission to leave for my destination, still unknown to me. She told me it was too late in the night and I could do so in the morning. I agreed and rested under that banyan tree. Something happened that night and in the morning neither I asked for her leave to go nor did she ask me to go. We would roam about the island, pick fruits and thought we would live happily ever after until one morning she complained of sickness. It was the first morning of sickness but many more mornings of stress. She had no clue what was happening to her nor did I. We thought it would pass. There was no question of my leaving her in this state of affairs. Her belly started growing up bigger and bigger and with this the stress became acute to the point of beyond tolerance. My Lord, since then there has been no let up in the stress level. It has only gone up. In time we were joined by another being like her. After some time she again had those morning sicknesses and then one more addition of a being under the banyan tree sometimes like her, sometimes like me. We developed some sort of feelings for them and consciously knew they were our responsibilities. My lord responsibilities add up to stress more for her because she stopped going out for the sake of them and thus lost her independence. I, on the other hand was not stressed because my job was to remain outside most of the time and for that I had a big excuse of collecting fruits. I confess I should have helped her. My Lord! I also confess I have discriminated against her, not only against her but also against like her. Like me, my likes also joined me in remaining outside for collecting fruits. They learnt pretty fast how not to return before sunset and avoid helping the ‘shes’. I sided with them even though I knew I was wrong. I made sure that those like me got all the attention, ate the best fruits and did practically nothing around the banyan tree. I discriminated against them because they were not like me. With the passage of time, we learnt more tricks to make living more living like. We covered the trunk of banyan tree from all sides and made a cover over our heads to save us from rain and cold. I would say we became sort of permanent livers under that banyan tree. The grownups like me and like her left for better living and probably settled under some tree in pairs of like me and like her. My Lord! I am the 100000000000000000000000000000000thafter as many winters. Today we are so to say modern and civilized but I confess nothing has changed for her, we call woman. I, now called man, am solely responsible for her stressful life and I leave no opportunity to discriminate against her. Still today I do not share any household responsibilities while she for long started sharing outside responsibilities. Her stress level has increased many folds but I couldn’t care less. Same with discrimination. I discriminate against her from day one. She gets lesser clothes, lesser food, lesser education and sadly lesser love. She employed lesser than us, is paid lesser than us, promoted lesser than us and forced to quit in the so called family interest. My Lord! This is my confession, my sin and my redemption. I know it is too little but I think partly it is your fault too. You could have kept me with you. She would have been still single, stress free and independent. She definitely could have lived without me. Now she has got used to me and I am used to her. Confession is the only way-out.

THE CROWD PULLER -3-IDENTIFICATION WANTED-STORY

Three days after the following Notice appeared in the local News paper. “IDENTIFICATION WANTED. General Public is hereby informed that a man, who was seen performing jugglery at several places in the town for the last one year was found hanging from a tree in the Town Hall Park. Post mortem report has confirmed death by strangulation and no foul play is suspected. So far no body has come forward to claim his body. He is about 35 years of age, medium built, wheatish color, about 5’ 7” height. His photo is given below. Anybody known to him may contact the town police station within 3 days. If no claimant comes forward within the stipulated time, the body will be donated to local medical hospital.” Normalcy has already returned in the town. Media has more spicy subjects to cover. Some journalists tried to follow the rumor of someone looking the juggler performing in nearby town but could not establish the truth. There were people swearing by their Gods or mother but that was all. They too were of no help. This only showed how unconcerned our journalists are. They need someone to take them to the subject and then only they can click their cameras, activate their mikes and open their mouths like untrained parrots. Some families who had earlier said the face resembled the face of their long lost son did come to the police station but returned without saying anything. Had the dead man left some fortunes behind there would not have been any dearth of claimants but who cares for a man so shabbily dressed lying in a police morgue with a decomposed body? The three days notice passed and if anything happened it was that the body became 6 days older and still dead. Police was left with no option but to notify that the body of the juggler has been donated to the town hospital. It was expected that the doms there will help the student doctors learning anatomy.

THE CROWD PULLER-2-TENSION IN TOWN - STORY

Curfew has been imposed in the town following clashes between two communities over the dead body of the juggler. Both sides are claiming that the juggler belonged to their community as they will perform the last rites as per their religious belief and rituals. The administration is taking all the precautions to restore peace and sanity. Until yesterday he was simply a juggler and good at that, mysterious though. He entertained people and people felt happy. The question of his religion or faith was of no concern. A juggler is a juggler and that was all. As long as he was alive nobody cared to know what he did for living, where he lived and so on. A dead body can arise the conscience of people in such a strange way was quite unexpected. Thousands of unclaimed dead bodies are disposed of by the administration without any ceremony every day and the collective conscience of people remains unconcerned. A dead juggler can do what a live juggler can’t. Leaders from both the communities sitting on their high perches are making provocative statements. Political leaders of all shades and color have descended in the town having close door meetings with their followers and chalk out the strategy. The whole atmosphere is pregnant with uneasy calm. Chances are there that if an amicable settlement is not reached in time, tempers may fly and situation may go out of control. There are some moderates who think peace can be restored the religion of the dead juggler could be established. Somebody has suggested that his penis be examined to ascertain if he was circumcised or not. If yes, he belonged to this community, if not, he belonged to that community. It was a long shot but could possibly settle the issue but leaders of both the communities opposed it for fear of losing the dead body and therefore the right of ownership. Both sides were putting forward evidences to show that their community has produced more jugglers than the other and therefore, as per the law of average, he must belong to them. History was being reread from the very beginning of creation to prove the point. This also failed to settle the issue because everybody knows that history over the period becomes fiction and biased. The recorder of events becomes more important than the events themselves. One more suggestion about how the juggler dressed was also rejected because no juggler dresses the same every second day. Besides they have their own outfit to suit their hidden tools for hypnotizing the audience. The problem was further confounded by the fact that no one had seen him visiting any religious place or eating at a particularly designated community eatery. Nobody in fact knew anything about him except that he occasionally performed in this or that or that park or pavement. The administration had to relax the curfew for a few hours in the morning so that people may buy goods of their daily need. Complete vigil was kept over the movement of people during this time. It was not necessary because nobody ventured outside their Mohall/neighborhood. Schools and offices were closed and emergency medical cases were handled under special curfew passes. Some people died even before the passes could be obtained. People were running out of essentials but were prepared to pay the price for the sake of religious pride. The worst sufferers were the daily wagers, petty traders, vegetable vendors and such other people but when the leaders have to deal with such an enormous and far reaching decision, such inconveniences are of no consequence. Print and electronic media too was washing their dirty hands in the running water as the saying goes. Depending on wishes of their akas (lords), they were playing the tunes. Their investigative journalists were coming out with stories about the juggler, about his family, background. They had met many families who suspected the photo resembles their long lost son. These families were from both sides of the divide. Confusion and only confusion reigned supreme. Suddenly from out of blue a rumor was making rounds that some people had seen the juggler performing in the nearby town. Those in the know were swearing by their holy books that the information was true. Some thought it was a canard spread by the administration to ease out the tension. If nothing else, it made people complacent and less aggressive. The administration assured the people to enquire into the whole issue and requested them to maintain peace. In the hope of seeing their beloved juggler again, people started going about their regular business and normalcy was returning. THE DEAD BODY OF THE MAN WHO WAS A JUGGLER OR LOOKED LIKE HIM WAS STILL LYING IN THE POLICE MORGUE WAITING FOR A CLAIMANT.

THE CROWD PULLER - STORY

He was a happy go lucky man or that is what people thought about him. He has that uncanny gift of attracting attention. There was something mysterious about him. He could be seen at different parts of the city pulling crowds at pavements or parks with his jugglery, antics and rare feel of forget me not behavior. He was just any common man in the streets and dressed casually. He would appear from nowhere and disappear to nowhere. People had seen him performing on the pavement and parks but beyond that no one knew what he did for a living or where he lived. With a bag hanging on his shoulders and slippers on his feet he was a man with a mission-to entertain people. He could imitate popular film stars and politicians. He could juggle with five rubber balls, spindles, rings, bottles, cups and never falter even once. He could many magical tricks with cards. He could tell exactly how much cash you had in your wallet. He could tell whether the photo of the beautiful girl in your wallet was your wife or fiancée. He could convert a torn currency note in a brand new one. He could multiply your currency many times and could let it disappear. All what he needed was stand on a pavement or in a park, blow his trumpet and crowd would assemble around him. Children were his favorite. In fact he has tricks up his arms for every age group. His shoulder bag was his store house of all his belongings and magic materials. No one including the police constable on beat would object to his roadside show even if it was obstructing traffic... For the sake formality he would politely ask him to finish it as fast as possible. It looked he enjoyed it more than anybody else. He never accepted any reward or payment. That is probably he was miles apart from other jugglers who played for money. That is one of the reasons he could keep his audience around him for as long as he wished. Sometimes people will insist that he accept the little amount he offered but he would distribute the same among the poor kids watching his show. Then he would blow his trumpet as signal for the end of the show and move as silently as he had appeared. People had different takes on his life and motives. Some went to the extent of telling that he was a CID man in disguise looking for some dreaded criminal or collecting some intelligence information. Some said he was a detective from a neighboring country. Some said he was a jilted lover taking revenge on his lover. Some even opined that he was God’s messenger distributing smile on earth in his peculiar way. It is strange that nobody had any clue where he lived. Above all one needs some sort of bed to place his back on even if it is a pavement. One needs to take a bath, wash his clothes, and have some meals all of which he apparently did. One needs a shelter to hide his head. Agreeing that he slept on pavements, used the public wash rooms and ate at some eateries, how come that he had remained elusive for all these months? How come that nobody had seen him anywhere except when he was performing? Did he change his attire after the show? These and many similar questions were the topic of discussions after the shows ended but there were no answers or may be nobody really tried. Above all he was just a juggler. Everybody however agreed that he was a crowd puller and expert entertainer. The town was abuzz with the news that a man in his thirties was found hanging from a tree in the park. Those who had seen the body were sure he was the juggler. News spread like fire that the juggler was dead. People who he had entertained for the last few months were rushing to the police station for the last ‘darshan’. Would they perform his last rites too? ODE TO THE GREAT CROWD PULLER.