September Rain

Rain hasn’t been too kind lately. Dark clouds fill up the evening sky only to disappear within minutes. A sudden cold breeze crosses with some hope of respite. No rain drops even an hour later. The chill in the air stays on till late.

Showers are thing of the past.

There were times when standing on a bus stop on busy Ring road amidst heavy crowd, rain would splash without a signal of caution. Sheer joy it used to be. Two-wheelers would struggle for space along with those waiting for the DTC and the Blue Lines.

And there were times when finding a Rickshaw used to be a pain in this rain at the Delhi University. Sorry, North Campus! With no ricky-man visible, students in hordes used to walk up to the Mall Road. 

India Gate and Dilli Haat became a meeting point for rain lovers. Perhaps it still does, for lovers alone though!

Noise isn’t meant for a writer. He, who writes, wanders for silence. The beautiful sound of rain is blessing for a writer, or someone who wishes the ink to flow.

At the café on that September evening, rain took us by surprise. With no transport, we started on foot. The water flooded the street. Our trousers at knee length and an umbrella in hand the journey began.

Our hands tied together, and clothes soaked with rain water. We crossed traffic snarls speeding against rain.

Halfway through, our eyes met. There was silence. Smiling faces stared each other.

Minutes passed. I was left alone with a beautiful fragrance. Rain vanished; water clogged on the street remained.

People tell me it has rained much more than ever before this season.

Perhaps just the time never returned. I tried to reach you. Memories remained.

September Rain.

The Iron Maiden - A Muse for Indian Citizens

7, Chelmsford Road is just another house in the capital.

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However, it has an altogether different story to narrate and shall be recalled henceforth, in India’s history. For the last six years it has witnessed the iron-lady Neelam Katara stand tall facing various turns and twists of life. She lost her son (Nitesh) and later her husband; but strangely, these concrete walls helped her built a strong resolve to fight the trauma. Neelam decided that she would rest only when justice will be served, in the case of Nitesh. Perhaps, it was ‘only’ hope, which survived with her…

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Neelam Katara with son Nitin coming out of the Patiala House Court (TOI)

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On the ill-fated day of 17th February 2002; Nitesh Katara a young executive was kidnapped, and battered to death with a hammer before the body was burnt. This heinous act was carried out by Vikas Yadav (along with his cousin Vishal Yadav); son of U.P. mafia turned politician D.P. Yadav.

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Interestingly, Bharti Yadav, daughter of D.P. Yadav proved to be an important link in the whole scenario. The motive and intention of killing has been crystal clear since the day of the crime. Both Nitesh and Bharti were in love with each other, a relationship not approved by the Yadav brothers. However, this was proved only today in the court of law after a consistent war against the mafia, which committed the crime and then tried to shield the culprit for as long as it could.

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It has been more than 6 years for this dark tunnel of injustice to discover the bright sunshine. Money, Muscle and Power were used each day to delay the proceedings of the honourable court. On quite a few occasions and even recently, certain actions were deliberately performed to deviate the attention of the court.

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All this while, Neelam Katara stood like a strong pillar not only in her own case but also for the cause of score of other cases like Jessica Lall and Priyadarshini Mattoo; apart from her own Kashmiri Pandit Community. She never hesitated to voice her opinion against injustice, and to stand up for her idealistic child Nitesh was always a top priority. "He was a fearless warrior; always ready to help and speak out for justice"; she recalls.

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It hasn't been an easy journey; Katara's suffered hell in last 6 years. She ran from pillar to post to shift the proceedings of the case from the Ghaziabad court to the Delhi District Court. Official records say, that Neelam Katara was present in all 400 hearings of the case. Need I say more?

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It had been two years since we started our campaign for the Justice of these cases. We met success in the Priyadarshini Mattoo and the Jessica Lall Case towards the end of 2006 after rounds of protests, campaigns, awareness drives and candle light vigils. But, the one and only unforgettable loss at heart that I personally suffered was to not be able to witness the conviction of the accused, who had murdered Katara. Nevertheless, it has taken long for the agencies to act; though they finally arrived at an extremely positive verdict. Therefore, as per the new rhetoric, Justice Delayed but not denied…

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Neelam Katara, wiping her tears as the verdict was served, remarked, “"He would be happy wherever he is." The relief and satisfaction were visible on the brave face.
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Nitin Katara, Nitish's younger brother summed it up well when media persons congratulating him on the verdict day stormed him. He said, ""I believe he (Nitish) died for love. He died for freedom of expression, he died for that school of thought...in our generation that we are allowed to make a choice and stand by it and that belief has been vindicated today by this decision."
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"My mother is my God," he added.

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I later met Nitin and his mother while leaving the court complex. They gave me a warm hug, as if I am their own family, and I in turn was all excited to share this moment of long dreamt happiness.
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I, like always, applauded them for their indomitable zeal and conviction, which has made this, dream a reality. "The fight is on…" they concluded; as they left the Patiala Court premises today.
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And, the fight is on indeed…Satyamev Jayete!

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Do Visit – http://www.justicefornitishkatara.blogspot.com/

The Long Lost Road...

It wasn't as easy to spend this weekend in the grilling summer heat of Delhi. All alone in my room with books, computer and that single piece of cigarette which I found in some corner. It wasn't as hot as it was during the day; but one could feel a sudden irritation from the changing climate.

I may not remember last night's stroll all alone through the lanes of my posh colony where I live here in the capital; but the past memories flash back like freshness in the humid air. Last year during these very same days I was in a different phase of adulthood; experiencing the best days of my teens.

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Home; was hardly where I could be found those days! I was in love with life and wandered all around the city in darkness and in bright light. The time never changed; nor did the places I visited.
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It was fun to walk miles with a smile all around my teeth those days; I had begun to leave my lazy routine. It was for good. The stroll through the woods or the silent roads late evening was what I looked forward to each day. Wonder why it wasn't damn tiring even to walk kilometers together!

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The heat could hardly bother my mind and soul. The markets, food-stalls, shops, lawns etc. all were so full of life. Can't forget the coffee we shared so often. Money, which had always been a problem; as I hardly earned; never came in way somehow.

And, after 12 months I long for those days. I wonder what happened to those chappals, which we used to wear each day; which made us walk those miles after miles. I stare at them like never before. Momories crash in like never before. Have the lawns, markets, and the shops changed their course ? And, What about that Coffee we shared, I wonder!

I can still smell the fragrance, which filled the air and held me forever.
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Though I still can't recollect much of last night's walk; inside me thoughts juggle among themselves.
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The heat is at its peak; and it's again uncomfortable to move and live. I close my eyes and think of that freshness in humid air. Its still there; here close to me; forever.

After a while I get up with a shudder; only to find myself in a dream... the dream so true..! The Cigarette smoke can still me smelled in the room.
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I put on my blanket; to sleep again; the weekend is about to end...