All confusion around us. But at least we were still safe and there was no fear for our lives.
But I cant say the same thing for my Sikh friends who were all locked up in their houses. God alone knows what must have been going through their minds. Unfortunately, I never asked them later when things had returned to normal. But then we were a group of 10-12 year old kids and all we cared for was fun and play. But then again, I never imagined that I would be writing these lines 30 years after the barbaric events that were unfolding all around me from Oct. 1st till Nov 3rd and to which I was completely oblivious. And even today no one really seems to be interested in that story. Perhaps the victims also wish to move on. I don't know for sure. Have I ever asked any of the women who were widowed in the most cruel way during those three days if she has moved on? No. Do I have the courage to ask? I dont know.
India is not an easy country to live in if you are not conventional. By conventional I mean someone who is a non-Hindu, non-upper caste, not rich or of course, a woman. Any of these people will find this land of saints a tough place to live in. And while I am conventional in every sense of the above definition, the anti-sikh pogrom of 1984 has been a personal wound I have nursed over the years. And as each year has passed by and not a single murderer brought to justice by law, my despair has turned to anguish. The message of the Indian state is loud and clear: learn to live with your tragedies.
So this year we observe 30 years of the time of multiple crimes which visited North India after Indira Gandhi was assassinated by her security guards. But the hope lives on. The story of 1984 will not go away. Some have paid the price but the bigger fish are still not in the net. I don't have the facility of telepathy but just to make myself feel a bit better, I will close my eyes and stretch my hand out and try to wipe the tears of the thousand of grieving orphans and widows who I cant see and will never see.
But I cant say the same thing for my Sikh friends who were all locked up in their houses. God alone knows what must have been going through their minds. Unfortunately, I never asked them later when things had returned to normal. But then we were a group of 10-12 year old kids and all we cared for was fun and play. But then again, I never imagined that I would be writing these lines 30 years after the barbaric events that were unfolding all around me from Oct. 1st till Nov 3rd and to which I was completely oblivious. And even today no one really seems to be interested in that story. Perhaps the victims also wish to move on. I don't know for sure. Have I ever asked any of the women who were widowed in the most cruel way during those three days if she has moved on? No. Do I have the courage to ask? I dont know.
India is not an easy country to live in if you are not conventional. By conventional I mean someone who is a non-Hindu, non-upper caste, not rich or of course, a woman. Any of these people will find this land of saints a tough place to live in. And while I am conventional in every sense of the above definition, the anti-sikh pogrom of 1984 has been a personal wound I have nursed over the years. And as each year has passed by and not a single murderer brought to justice by law, my despair has turned to anguish. The message of the Indian state is loud and clear: learn to live with your tragedies.
So this year we observe 30 years of the time of multiple crimes which visited North India after Indira Gandhi was assassinated by her security guards. But the hope lives on. The story of 1984 will not go away. Some have paid the price but the bigger fish are still not in the net. I don't have the facility of telepathy but just to make myself feel a bit better, I will close my eyes and stretch my hand out and try to wipe the tears of the thousand of grieving orphans and widows who I cant see and will never see.
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