Joe returns from school that evening. He is bugged-up listening to the lessons taught in history class that day… Like a snail he dragged his way home holding his mom’s hand, clasping the fingers. ‘What are those you learnt today, Joey?’ sweetly inquired his mom. Joe didn’t seem to have an idea to reply. He was suffocating being aware of those he neither wanted to be. ‘Are we going to uncle’s tomorrow?’ fondly asked Joe. ‘I don’t think we can… Its festive season already. Dada wants to spend his time with you!’ replied Daphne patting his head. Actually Shiva, Anand Joe’s dad runs his own business a kilometer away from home. They belong to an upper-middle-class grade in the society where Joe is blessed to get what he thinks he need. The boy is sad ‘coz… may be he is puzzled who mistook that he wanted education! Most often the child is left alone in his room. He will be surrounded by Nandha, Rachael, and Rustum. They play, laugh and fight. Anything together. That’s the beauty visible in childhood. That evening since he felt the day to be eaten away, Joe crawls to his sister’s room slowly to ransack if there is something to keep him occupied. The animation movie DVDs are all watched already by them atleast five times. He spots few new collection of cds n’ DVDs on her shelf. Out of curiosity he climbs over the sofa and pulls how much he could. Whoops! They fall down upon the cushion scattered. There were Michelle’s dieting n’ work outs, Malhotra’s latest dress codes, Scary Movies… and more which he finds not of his kind. Suddenly he is attracted by one of those collections. Joe steals it and takes that to his living room. When mom and granny drives out to dad’s shop, he remains back on his couch calling up his friend Rustum to join him watching a new movie: ZOZO. Would it be that Joe is attracted to this DVD coz of the title? May be the little boy’s picture over the cover has beckoned him! As the maid serves them with glasses of juice and cornflakes, they sit back cuddle up to each other in excitement gaping at the screen. They complete watching it with involvement. After few sneezes and squeezed tissues… ‘Hmm… I have not made my day…!’ says Joe to Rustum sadly. ‘Come on, this movie was good Anand!’ cheered Rustum up his friend. ‘Okay, don’t forget to visit tomorrow. Dada will be bringing us the gifts tonight. We’ll play…all day!’ reminded Joe. ‘Sure bud, give my wishes to mom. Bye…Goodnight!’ waving his hand, Rustum hops back to his home which is few steps away. Since its festive season, they turn up lately. In the meanwhile, Joe goes to bed after an omelet and milk riding down his stomach. Poor little kid was too exhausted after all!
Early next morning he wakes up with a wild scream in his room, a reflex reaction against a fallen thunder. ‘Moma! Dada!! Mack…!!! Don’t die…. Don’t die… I don’t have a grandfather to go unlike ZOZO!!!’ sobs Joe. Again there falls another strike. Joe pushes his blanket, grabs the Teddy bear close and runs into the kitchen panting so unusually. He hides under the slab noticing whom the maid is shocked for a moment. Joe was squatting near the cylinder, his index fingers into either ears, cheeks red and wet, feet without his bunny shoes and evening dress all soak in sweat! For every Boom, Bam, Dudoom, Dissh,…. He became rigid clinging to his mom’s neck. She carries him to their room ‘Shiva, something’s wrong with Joey!!’ The father shakes him back to life and holds him tight at his shoulders. They both wipe his tears and kiss the kid. Joe slowly recovering cries ‘Are we in paradise or hell?’ ‘Joey… we are all home. What’s wrong? A night’s mare??’ inquires Shiva softly. ‘I was returning with Rachael from Park after playing games and I saw our home blowing up! As I ran seeing drops of spilled on streets, we ran to her block…’ he paused, took a breath, then continued ‘and there when we reached her hall, someone shot her through the window!’ he cries now. ‘I was afraid. So I fled down the staircase, knowing not where to go….’ He paused again. Looking deeply into dada’s eyes he said ‘then I found the whole place been blasted. People getting killed and gone. Only I was left alone!’ he hugs his father in fright and weeps. ‘Are we in
Joe was still gaping. His mouth failed to close until he utters something back. He swallowed big and asked… ‘Moma, aren’t these fire-works sound the same like those bombs and explosion in wars?’ He did not wait for any explanation. He ran carrying his GIFT-BOX which seemed as if to be half of his exact weight. He winked at his sister Mack who was busily bursting the crackers. He opened the Box, took each cap, flower-pots, pencils, shots, rockets, sparklers, bombs, crackers, everything out… throwing into the swimming pool! When his parents rushing behind him saw this… to their puzzled look, Joey coolly answers… ‘They taught me History yesterday.’ He moved his eyes from his mom’s to his dada and finished saying aloud ‘That was interesting!’
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I created this story just to alarm folks shouting to them with a voice which am keen that it doesn’t get lost among those 'Dudooms' and 'Bim-Bams'... ISN'T IT THE DUMMY WARS WE ACTUALLY CELEBRATING HERE? WHILE EVERY NATION WAS BUSY INVADING THE OTHER, DOES THIS MEAN WE PUPPETS WERE BUSY REHEARSING WARS?? Music marks the celebration. When this is a festival, where has the crave for Music is gone??? Can these Weird, Violent, Disturbing noises be taken as music on the account of celebration???! I wonder!!!! If am ready to believe that Myth of Deepavali, should I have to be a SADIST to mark the festival with these kind of exploding noises?! If you are so daring to burst or so interested in enjoying the noise that crackers burst into, why don’t you join army – lol. Every year I wake up or lay awake on deepavali feeling as if am in the borders of India-Pakistan or, Lebanon. When the violence and bombing are all ready at their peaks, why do you have to waste your money paying a tribute to terrorism? There are people, labors working in Sivakasi ever-ready to meet an accident that would tear their lives into pieces any split second while preparing the fire-works for our games! Is this where the entire culture is depending? Just because something fetches money one cant do everything. To cover the blasphemy of our celebrations, one need not go, hunt for a reason and come back to say… this purchase of fire-works lights up the stove in few poor homes. Well… if that’s the base, you ready to encourage poaching, child-labor, smuggling, prostitution... as every under-world works of course feeds atleast a few empty bellies? Smart nations are investing their money, brains and labor in preparing missiles. And the pathetic part is even those countries don’t show interest in manufacturing these fire-works but get them imported from us.
Let love spread light and laughter be the music. Burn the inhumane thoughts in you, which surely can bring colorful sparks on your face and in life. Religion, if not for the riches only, then why aren’t the poor able to celebrate the same religious festival? So Affordability buys God, Religion, Caste,… pleasure!!!! I bet there is something that cant be bought or sold, it can neither be welcomed on occasions alone. You don’t even actually wait for it…. That’s JOY!
Lastly,
HEAT NOT THIS EARTH... ITS ALREADY WARMING !
