Of Curses And Cold Coffee.

I think there might be some curse over my head. Or maybe some evil spirit floating around. No, I'm not going all weirdly religious or Tantric, but strange things have been happening. First came that whole burglar-bomb incident on Friday night, which was too traumatic - I don't want to go into that again. If that wasn't enough, the next evening, there was another bomb discovered, right in front of of the house opposite us. Enter the Police and the 'Bomb Squad' again, who ran a metal detector over it, frowned at the rather worrisome beeps, and then packed it up and drove away. How much must we deal with? And I always thought my locality was such a quiet, harmless one.

Then, today, I walked out of my house and was halfway to the auto stand before I realised I had forgotten to take my purse! Big deal, you think, sometimes everyone forgets to take something or the other. But that's the issue. I never forget. At any given point in time, I am always carrying my wallet, my phone, my keys, a notebook and pen, and mint. I always, always leave home with those bare essentials! A slip-up like this isn't a good sign.

Anyway, after I remembered I'd forgotten the purse, I went back and got it. No harm done. But nothing had prepared me for the auto-accident.

That happened near Lake Gardens. The auto-driver rammed head-on into one of those small lorries. (I think a tempo?) The funniest thing was: I was looking ahead, I saw the tempo coming at us, I knew a crash was going to happen, and it all seemed to happen in slow-motion. My mind went absolutely blank, I felt numb. Everything went blank, save for this really surreal feeling. The crash was a pretty bad one - tremendous jerk, a bit of skidding, but no serious injuries, thank God. The shock wasn't easy to deal with. I made my way to college somehow after that, avoiding the crowds that gathered. Right now, I'm thanking my stars we didn't crash into something bigger, like a bus or maybe an actual lorry. If that were the case, I'd actually be dead now, or seriously injured, God forbid.

Like I said, maybe there's some curse on me. Or maybe it's just a bad time. Life does happen in phases. There are good moments, and bad moments.

But ah well. There are things that make up for the bombs and the accident. The good, or dare I say, great moments. Like Cold Coffee and extra sachets of sugar. Like lots of shopping and chitchat. Like gifting a dokra fish to my mother. Sometimes, life's really worth living, and all the auto accidents and bombs in the world can't change that.

Screw the politicians and the police force. Give us security in our own homes!

We can deal with power-cuts. But dacoits in the middle of a power-cut are a different ball game altogether. We simply cannot deal with this rather deadly combination. On Friday night (24th April) two dacoits jumped onto the asbestos roof above our house gate, disappeared into the darkness.(This in New Alipore, which is supposedly ‘a safe area’.)

Meanwhile, all the locality people were standing around watching, occasionally shouting “There he goes! Catch him!” Two traffic guards who happened to be on the scene kept crying “Come down, otherwise we’ll shoot your legs!” We’d locked all our doors and our gates, were peering out of the windows into the darkness, we were afraid they were hiding in our backyard – it may all sound overly dramatic to you, but just take a moment to think about it. What would you have felt, in such a situation? Yes, you’d have been as scared as I was.

And our police force? Well, they took their own sweet time coming, of course. We understand. It must be rather hard to leave the comfort of the muri-aloo chop in their office. They arrived after half an hour, poked around half-heartedly at the remnants of the bombs the robbers had let off. We kept telling them to go into our neighbouring apartment building and check the flats, because we were afraid that the robbers might have hidden there, or worse still – taken someone hostage there.

Our pot-belled police force stood around for some time, basked in the glory of the chaos and the confusion, shouted gruff instructions at each other, and then left, supposedly to get ‘reinforcements’. Reinforcements consisted of two men, who checked our backyard, and looked at the bag of bombs the robbers had left on the road. After a couple of hours, when things had settled down somewhat, we heard shouts from a house behind us – apparently the thieves had been caught.

Now this incident raises a lot of questions.

Firstly, where was our locality Councillor, and why was he not answering his phone? When he called his brother, he said they were busy with Mamata. VIPs indeed. Who have risen far above the votes that we gave them, who have forgotten the fact that they are in power precisely because WE gave them power!

Secondly, why did the power take so long to come back? We called CESC, who asked us to call Lalbazaar, who in turn said that the fault lay with CPI(M). And frantic calls to the New Alipore Police Station went in vain. Also, the ‘Bomb Squad’ looked rather scared at the bag of bombs lying on the pavement in front of our house.

Thirdly, a reputed regional channel showed the news on their scroll. The headline, “In the middle of a power-cut, our efficient police force caught some dacoits.” I’m a Literature student, so I understand how words can be twisted, but wow- these people take it to a whole different level! Also, the channel in question is pro-CPI(M), and right at that moment, they were showing Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee live in their studio. Seems they used this incident for their own political leverage.

Fourthly, I wonder whether the robbers are still in custody. Or have they bribed the policemen, and left? To wreak further havoc? Why can’t we feel safe in our own homes? This is indeed a sad state of affairs. What an inefficient police force we have. Why, if the robbers took to their heels, the police-men wouldn’t even be able to run after them – they’re so notoriously unfit!

Why does everything have to take on a political colour? There are innocent men in our locality, helpless women and children – are we supposed to watch on while robbers throw bombs around and attack the security of our locality? Are we supposed to depend on our politicians and our police-force, while we citizens have to suffer?

A horrible incident indeed. I won’t forget seeing that bomb going off, neither will I forget the sounds of the woman screaming next door. We talk about ‘change’, and ‘political parties working for the good of the country’, and ‘the power of West Bengal’. But does it all mean anything? Does anything really matter when, of all things, we cannot feel safe in our own homes?

The Second Ear Piercing.

Sometimes, all it takes to overcome a lifelong fear and queasiness is the reassuring touch of a friend's hand, plenty of Mentos, and the thought of cold coffee and PNPC.

Tempus Fugit.

Yes, time flies. The days are fast fading, blurring into one another with an intensity that is frightening. Classes, work, work, and more work seem to be all that make up my life now. The heat suffocates me, how long can Iced Tea be my saviour? And then, sometimes, that little breath of fresh air comes, the one that I am unsure of, the one that I am confused about. Sometimes I wish certain things could be better explained, or even a little clearer, but then again I think that perhaps this is a "Que sera sera" situation here. Yes- I suppose "Whatever will be, will be."

Life is a wild haze now, with colours, events, and people all blending into each other - there's only so much I can make sense of.

Thank God for my friends, for they keep me sane.

Photo courtesy: Rimi-di, taken on the JUDE picnic in 2008. I posted this because it seemed so apt, somehow.