Saturday, September 04, 2004

Where are the Human Rights activists?

Beslan (Russia): 350 people dead of which more than 200 are innocent little lives. What crime had they done in this society to be the victims of a politicial blunder? Scenes on the television were horrifying with little kids running out of school in the midst of bomb blasts and cross fires – many naked, hungry and too traumatised to know which direction they were heading. Some were so terrified that even when a soldier came out to assist them, they would just sit and cower. BBC repeatedly showed the face of a boy staring blank into the open who could not even remember his own name.

Terrorists to some are freedom fighters to others. But why is it that the so the called human rights activisits always raise their voice when a government or a state body commits a foul up? Why do these human rights activists go into hiding when the so called exploited people – decide to take hundreds of innocent children as hostages, slaughter them and make good their escape? Do these activists believe that the law of human rights applies only to the State organisations?

Human rights activists have long critcised the tactics used by Russia which has acted in a determined fashion to crush the Muslim rebellion on Chechenya. But I doubt that the Russian army ever goes into Chechen territory and takes kids as hostages to realize their goals.

What gets me the goat is that these freedom fighters (terrorists) never take human rights activists as hostages. I sincerely pray that next time there is a human rights convention, some group of terrorists take the entire convention as hostage and force these activists to live without proper food or water for weeks together. They should execute one every half hour till the demands are met. I swear I will personally side with the terrorists – no matter what their demands are; and I will make a public appeal to the government not to negotiate with terrorists.


Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Changing Times
Humans are astonishingly lazy species. I have noticed that in my office people prefer to wait long periods for the lift to arrive so that they can avoid walking up (or down) just one flight of stairs. They like to order the office boy to get them a glass of water even when the dispenser is hardly 5 steps away from them. They prefer to make a call to their colleague in the next room rather than make an effort to walk to the next room and have a personal discussion.

Thor Heyerdahl aptly summarized it: Progress is man’s ability to complicate simplicity.

I can vividly recall the times when there was no TV. Even entertainment from Radio was quite limited. I was young then but I count myself lucky to have been born before the technology boom began; lucky enough to have had the opportunity to entertain ourselves in the form of playing marbles, tops, gulli-danda, eyes-spies and an assortment of other small games. I hardly see the present generation indulging in outdoor activities with an exception being Sunday morning cricket - if you can call it that.

Entertainment was when we sang our own songs rather than pop a disc in the CD player. I still recall some of the few songs that we composed as kids. They wouldn’t fetch a Grammy award by any stretch but they certainly bring a priceless smile whenever I remember them. In my school it was compulsory to participate in at least one drama per year. It’s a shame that today’s generation is missing out on all these.

What overwhelmed was when I was shopping for second hand comics over the weekend. A mother and her child stopped by the road side shop and asked for Harry Potter. And no, they were not looking for the children’s novels, but for the audio cassettes that read out these books! I made an attempt to convince the lady that books were better and it would make a better impact on the child but she felt that books were old fashioned.

The incident was extraordinarily revealing but I guess when I come to think of it I enjoy being old fashioned and I still prefer my own reading; it’s mine for one thing.
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