AAP Story & its Side-effects

Just a few years ago, it was ok to to label all the political parties into one category and collectively dismiss their every action or the lack of thereof. Then comes a man with an ambitious & well-timed action plan to change the political narrative of India. Now, it was cool to support this man’s political outfit, Aam Aadmi Party (AAP). He had everything a thriving middle-class well educated armchair-activist citizens of India dreamt of in a politician; an elite engineering degree from IIT, a background in social work & his anti-corruption vehemence. However, he had already over-stayed his welcome as an anti-corruption hero when he tried to capture a permanent place for himself in the psyche of Indian populace. The sequence of events after that is very well known to almost every Indian on social media. His ambitions never stopped and when reality struck him, he compromised with a CM’s post in Delhi. So, far governance has been zero and activism maximum despite being in power. 

While the political party, AAP was trying to gain political mandate it amassed help from all well-meaning people of India who had been frustrated with rampant corruption. Soon, there was widespread polarisation within the tech-savvy generation who earlier where united in their political ideology. Now people who didn’t support AAP labelled the AAP politicians & supporters as AAPtards and Narendra Modi led-BJP supporters known as Bhakts. Now it was AAPtards Vs Bhakts. Over the past one year AAPtards started getting disillusioned, a portion of support has been lost but not everything has gone from AAP to BJP.  While, it was cool to donate funds to AAP & openly support Arvind Kejriwal it is no longer the same. He has led down a huge fraction of people who supported his initiative. He is now seen as a dictator.

This turn of events is not good for other less-greedy & less-corrupt political outfits, which are many in India. Sadly, not many know about them! These parties would be seen with a lot of cynicism. If things go on the same way, the political mess would always be unsorted & repel young responsible citizens of India. All due to Arvind Kejriwal. 

Let's compare our Scars

This is not going to be an entertaining or an escapist read. So, close the tab if you are looking for something in that general category.

Scars! We all get bruised many times in our lives but few bruises stay and become permanently carved as scars in us. These scars, romanticists may say are the aspects of our personality that makes us beautiful. But are we supposed to believe in the beauty their eye beholds? More so, the question rumbles for this particular group of people who not only have a tendency to see things with their rose tinted glasses but they also attach an over emotional attachment to everything under the sun.

Scars don't define us, they don't make us beautiful, they don't teach you any lesson, they are just fossilised experiences stored in the form of weird marks to be seen either with physical eyes or sentient ones. They hide a story, lying dormant in them. Stories which mean the world to the possessor of scars. They don't make anyone weak, strong or mature. They just change your worldview.

Once in a while new experiences may infringe upon the personal space of these scars. They may interfere with the very existence of these old dwellers. These experiences may adjust & come in terms with their ancestors and live in perfect harmony. But! Not always. There are instances when fresh experiences may turn your scar into a gangrenous wound. Then, what do we have? I have no idea!!!

Are we supposed to compare our scars? Perhaps not! Not everyone can be objective enough to appreciate the pain of others. In this particular case, subjectivity is an accomplice to the act of apathy & coldness, unusually. No matter what any one says, we all have a greater subjective weight for our own worries, wounds, grief, pain, pangs & penchants. And, we tend to project these distorted viewpoint in an objective manner. This is certainly very apathetic.

We all grow up with different set of experiences and depending upon a lot of factors, we may choose to associate relevance with all of them in various random ways. Societal upbringing forces us to take lessons from each one of them and become a better participant. This is perhaps self-fulfilling because when we try to learn listlessly all the time, we are bound to become walking zombies.

There are experiences which gives us bruises, few bruises become scar. And, these scars have stories. There is a thing about stories : Stories lose their magic when they are seen more than just a story [Watch the video above]. We have an innate tendency to look for signals in the sea of noise. This is what gives the scars a bad name. A scar visualised as a symbolic form of story-telling is what we all need. We don't need new lessons for our survival. We don't have to compare our scars to feel better about ourselves. Scars are no measures of personal achievement to be compared and gain happiness or for the matter to wallow in sadness.

Scars are just scars not to be healed or compared. They are just a doorway into the days of the yore, to quench your innate desire for nostalgia

A Giant Vermin

I want to cry. I want to cry and just want to be in that state.
I want to submerge myself in my own tears. I want to see myself drowning in it. I want to almost die.
I want to suffocate. I want to feel helpless & powerless. I want to crawl in my own worry-pool.
Only to be rescued by you. I want you to rescue me. I want you to take me out of that cesspool of misery & pessimism.
I want you to scold me. I want you to punish me. I want you to laugh at me. I want you to slap me red & blue.
I fucking have no clue as to how would you strangulate me. But strangulate me by all means. Hang me from the most decrepit tree. Shoot donkey shit at my dead face. Take pictures of it. Laugh at it. Then again bring my body back and shred it to pieces. Distribute it to millions of beetles.
Because that is who I am. A giant vermin. Someone who is a fucking insect with a human face and body of man.

I want you to absolve me from all this. I know only you have the power. You only can kick me where it hurts the most. Only you can put pepper spray on my wounds where it is most lethal.
I want to submit to only you. You are everything I think about. You are the reason I want to die. Because I know that you are subjected to a lot of suffering because of me.
I can't help it. I am helpless to the maximum. The level of grief inside me is venomous to all the people. But to you it is claustrophobic and inevitable. You have been going through this by no fault of yours. But I have accused you in my mind a million times. I had thought you have done this to me. I don't know what makes me think of that but now I feel I am stupid to live. Please grab by my neck and put my face in a shit-pit. Make me drink urea. Give me more wounds. Because I love your wounds. Because I love the pain inflicted by you.
Because I love the way you heal those wounds. Because I love you. I would always do that, till the last drop of my body fluid.