Batman and after

Yes. I am mesmerized.

By:
the graying haired Mr. Wayne,
the ugly tank/car/weird Unidentified Flying Object,
the forced plane crash,
the graying haired Mr. Wayne (oh!) waltzing in and taking away what is rightfully his,
the deserving and formidable perfect match aka Catwoman,
the next gen possible Batman (gosh! so many yummilicious men!)
the collapsing bridges,
the stadium caving in,
and the graying haired Mr. Wayne (shucks! Someone get him out of my head, pleaseeee!!).

The list continues...

No. This is certainly not a movie review. More likely a lunatic raving due to another attack of Cupid's wickedness and Mr. Nolan's master artistry.

But in my hallucinated state, when I have sat down to ruminate the extra-ordinariness of two and a half hours, I wonder what was it that I saw?

Was it a movie? Or a lesson far far greater?

A man who has resigned on life; a man who has given his everything away to the common man who, forget thank, never appreciates him; a man, yet, who thinks has still not offered himself entirely towards the greater good because he is still alive.

And the spindle spins.

There are the scheming and selfish corporates who have raised a Frankenstein.
There are the deprived and sinned against, who are burning in the fire of rage and revenge everyday.
There are the sandwiched working class who keep swinging between right and wrong, trying to create a balance.
There is the woman who has learnt that two eyes for an eye is the best way to survive, but not always.She knows how far to go, where to stop and from where to turn back.
There is the woman who has been scorned and in whose wrath burns Gotham City.

A leader from among the down-trodden rises. The Have-nots strike back. The Haves brand them as terrorists. One party fights for rights, for all the deprivation and torture of the past, for avenging themselves. And the other fights to defend themselves, to send back the 'terrorists' where they came from, to restore balance to the society because they know that if the places are exchanged, they have to go down the pit.

The war wages on. There is mayhem all around.The bureaucrats and the plutocrats are overthrown. The power is now in the hands of the common man. The Underdog wins. (Sounds familiar?)

But is it really a victory? Do the common men, who have been directed all along, know what to do with all the power that they have gained suddenly?

No. They do not.

Like always, they need a leader now, a person stronger than them, one who will tell them what to do and how to do. But along with the bad, they have destroyed the good. They have killed their protectors, their benefactors. The fight for justice has morphed into savage mob fury somewhere in the midway.
The cause is lost. The society is ruled by psychopaths who declare death in their 'courtrooms'. The power has just passed on to the hands of the ochlocrats.

But Gotham City is fortunate enough to have a few men who will never give up. Men who see reason even in the dreariest of days, who can differentiate between right and wrong. And above all, there is the one man who lives to etch a symbol of hope, courage, selflessness, security and good in the heart of an entire city, even after his 'death'.


But in the real world, we the common men, do not have a man who will go out of his way to save a lost community. Today, when we are condemning every organized structure in the name of protest and summoning chaos, when we are destroying ourselves on the streets of Egypt, Syria, Libya, India, France and all over the world , who will come and show us reason? Yes, we fight in the hope of winning back our rights, our power. But is this the right way? Do we know what to do with that massive power? Shall we entrust the right person with it, a person who will not betray our trust?
Or will history repeat itself and we will continue to burn?


The questions are many and big. They say every revolution demands blood. Or, may be there is another way to change things.
A way, where we live for one another, love one another and be saviours of ourselves.
A way where we do not need a Batman any longer.

Remembering forgotten lessons

*** Before I start narrating the incident, I must warn you that this post is quite long and may turn out to be a little preachy. So if you are looking for something of a lighter mood, you may want to skim through the other posts. ***

Imagine a random, regular day.

9: 45 in the morning and I was in an incredible rush to gulp down the breakfast, lock the doors and windows, comb my unruly and forever entangled hair, switch off all electrical appliances, lock the door and run off to catch the office bus with the 3.5 kg laptop on my back and my mysterious flat shoes conspiring together to make me fall flat on my face on the road.

The doorbell rang.

Highly irritated me: "Who the hell is that now?"

I opened the door with a very unwelcome expression on my face and saw a young man, may be in his thirties. His unclean clothes, the big bag with numerous boxes of incense sticks and his meek expression irritated me all the more.

"Didi, I have brought some very good incense sticks", he began. "Do you want some?" He attempted to thrust a box of incense sticks in my hand.

"Na na Dada. I don't want any", I retorted involuntarily. I was almost ready to close the door on his face.

"Please Didi, take some."

Something in his voice caught my attention. Was it a plea? As if somebody was drowning and asking me to throw a rope.

No, he was not begging. If he had, I would have closed the door right on his face without a second thought. 

I looked at him in the eye (How often do we really look people into their eyes while talking?). There, standing at my door, was a person trying to make an honest living. All he wanted from me was my support.

"Okay Dada, give me two boxes." He gave a visible sigh of relief.

"Sorry Didi, but I have to do something for a living", maybe he realized that he was a botheration to me right then.

"It's okay Dada. I understand. Can't help in these days." He kept nodding. May be he was used to hearing these empty words of sympathy which made no difference in his life.

"Why don't you do one thing? You come next month again and bring more incense sticks for me. I won't be buying from shops in that case", I gave him a proposal. The young haggard face lit up.

"Sure Didi sure. You don't have to worry about incense sticks anymore". 

As I closed my door on a hopeful and energized face and sat down to my breakfast, I didn't feel good. Something stung within me. Where did my sense of responsibility and sensitivity go? Why my first reaction to a person in need was to shut him out?

I pictured this on a broader arena. In this sprawling country with over a billion population, there must be millions like me who make more than a decent income; who have the ability to indulge in expensive luxuries without thinking twice. We are the widely considered “educated class”. Our opinion matters. We are the ones who discuss politics, criticize the government, talk about development, condemn unemployment, agitate against corruption, mock reservation based on caste and religion and see ourselves as the future of the country.

Yet, when we come across a person of lower stature than us, we do not acknowledge him. We give alms to a beggar out of pity. But how many times do we buy from a salesman because we want to appreciate his fight? In this dishonest world where every one of us is more or less corrupt, how many times do we pause and acknowledge a person who is trying hard to live honestly inspite of all odds, fighting hard against life in his own small way?

Discrimination doesn’t germinate from caste, religion or gender. Discrimination arises because we forget that the people around us are human beings too. We forget that all human beings are born with the same basic features and the same basic needs. Hence all human beings should be entitled to the same basic rights to survive. It is simple logic. All the extra details just make life complicated. Some twenty years back, the opening sentence of my EVS book said – “Humans are social beings”, which means humans cannot live isolated. They must share and support each other to thrive. Such a simple, yet profound fact! The lesson of a lifetime. Is it so difficult to remember?

As I locked my door and started off to work, I promised myself that I’ll care. I’ll remember what I have been taught since Day 1, by my parents, my teachers, by the innumerable books I have read.

It doesn’t matter how much money you spend on yourself or others. The least you can do is respect - yourself and those around you.