Ramblings: Turbulence

Its been a whopping six months since I last posted on this blog - scratch that, its been that long since I last wrote anything! Well, an integral part of my work as a lawyer involves substantial amounts of drafting to be done on a daily basis, but none of that verbosity is ever exactly meaningful to any one. That's even more so because I work primarily in commercial law, and who gives a hoot about that, right? I don't. I'm stuck with it though, for now at least, until I find a way out. Anyhow, its precisely because of this work that I haven't managed the time to pursue any personal development, be it reading, writing, travelling and the likes, or to have a social life outside of work. The absence of writing has been quite painful, for now I've forgotten my own style of prose and I'm having to re-trace, or rather, re-learn the modes of expression I used to employ by visiting previous posts and essays even as I struggle to put these present thoughts to paper. I so earnestly wish to zap back to the time when I could make my pen weave a story on to paper at will. This re-learning pursuit, in fact, has brought me to a peculiar crossroad, one that reminds me of why I began to write in the first place and how this is one pursuit that I shouldn't give up on if I wish to salvage any chances of having a sane life.

Back in 2017, when I first began to write in a moment of frustration-driven inspiration, this is how I encapsulated my feelings: "I write, because it is a way for me to vent out my frustration into something productive. Also, being a shy person, writing is the best way for me to get out what I want to say and unblock my mind. Keeping your thoughts to yourself is not good. It slowly starts blocking your mind to a point when your mind chokes and you break apart in pieces and have to start all over again. Writing is my answer to this problem. For me, it's like a stress buster." This is exactly what the doctor ordered, a stress-buster! Tonight is a night of re-discovery for me of what I did back in 2017! I hardly have any memories of that year, it wasn't a very good time; but now that I'm reading whatever I wrote that year, it's all turning out to be so helpful to me today in 2023. It seems like the poems I wrote back then have covered all the points of agony with which I sat down today to write a sob story. Thankfully, that sob-story has turned out to just another incoherent, disarrayed rambling. Here's another snippet from 2017: "I have a dream. I have a vision. I have a colorful imagination. And, sometimes, it makes me lose my mind because they shape up beautifully in my mind, yet, I'm nowhere close to identifying them in reality. It makes me want to give up. But, frankly, giving up isn't an option. Because giving up signifies the end, and I'm not done here yet." I never imagined it would be my own poems, which I penned in a time of distress, that would give me the courage to continue tackling these days of turbulence, one step at a time. Strange are the ways of life!

What exactly is this turbulence that's shaking my life so violently? They're all first-world problems and quite mundane in nature to be honest, nothing too big at all. Well, I guess that's why I'm discussing them here rather than actually taking up the task of talking to someone about it. Maybe this isn't even turbulence at all now that I begin to write about it, it's probably just the wind weighing on my mind as I go searing through the air towards my destination. I'm kidding, its definitely turbulence, although only enough for the captain to switch on the seat belt sign out of abundant precaution, if not anything else. I'll go on to briefly describe the past six months or so of my life now, so read on at the peril of your own boredom. The story in fact begins from, or continues, from the subject of my last post - goodbyes. In the short span of a fortnight in late April to early May, I had to say goodbye to two sets of people in my life whom I love the most - my friends and my family. First, I emptied out my room and left the University hostel to go home - floating away from an amazing bunch of people who had so readily accepted me into their lives - and then I had to say goodbye to my parents - the two people who describe the word perfect for me - to come to Delhi for beginning this new phase of life. A phase that, so far, has been marked with a brooding absence of companionship. Youngsters arriving in metro cities like Mumbai and Delhi to chase avenues of livelihood are often found lamenting that there isn't any sense of fraternity or community here. When you are alone, everything seems to fall apart. For instance, it really delights me to be in the company of people who don't mind the slightest bit in entertaining the senselessness in my talk. They do get annoyed, of course, but they don't discourage me from not making any sense. It's difficult nowadays to have such rambling talks because of the need to always be perfect and presentable at work. People at the workplace judge you for being incoherent and that's a shameful social setting to be involved in. To sum that up, here's a quote, by Victor Hugo, yet another one that I've picked up from my notebook of 2017: "The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves."

Nevertheless, the loneliness was still a somewhat ship that could be sailed upon, thanks to the ease of digital communication (especially reel-sharing) brought about by WhatsApp and Instagram. It is the circumstances of work in itself that have been the bane of my existence, even after having left two workplaces, pursued some independent work, and now being on the verge of joining a third office! I would be interested in having a quick chat with stability, if I ever happen to see them around somewhere these days. In May, I joined a small and quite-unheard-of law office in Defence Colony, New Delhi where I threw in the towel at the end of my second week there after the freak running the place threatened to make me work without pay for the entirety of my four-month assessment period and then leave me outside to hang and dry, all because I interrupted him once somewhere. Post this episode, I took upon the daunting task of looking for a job once again, and quite desperately at that because now I had the responsibility to pay rent too. To live job-less and penny-less in a suburb of Delhi that serves up delicacies at every fifth step you take isn't a cup of tea, it's a plate of biryani. It wasn't an agonisingly long wait though and I had an assessment offer within the next fifteen days. It was a great offer too, with good pay (by litigation standards), and promised to teach by the truck-loads.

(Left Incomplete)

October/November, 2023

Forgive Me Miss, For I Have Sinned

I have a very weak memory, one that keeps placing a shadow on my life's timeline, which means that I don't remember much of my own accord, unless poked to do so. It's often a blessing in disguise for I don't have to recall and cringe at all the embarrassing episodes which dwarf my life. Sometimes, this predicament makes me feel left out too, such as when well-meaning colleagues and siblings rapturously share their adventurous school-and-college tales while I can only listen in wonder and amazement, forgetting the treasure trove of joyful times I have had myself. However, there has always been this one memory that has never ever faded away from my remembrance, although I have most certainly wished for it to be eviscerated eternally. This memory perennially haunts me like the spectre of communism was described by Marx to haunt all of Europe. The scene enacts itself to a rousing reception in the theatre that is my mind and villainizes my imperfections; the words spoken spring alive and pinch my heart to strain it of all merriment in a snap. The perception of the hurt my actions occasioned bears a burden heavier that what my shoulders can lift or carry, drowning me in in a sombre river of guilt. I have only now come to acknowledge that this memory is a ghost whose thirst I must quench by confessing for my sins, so to say; and for that end and purpose, I write this an an obituary of my mistakes. I hope that by ascribing a fitting description to the events that transpired, I can set in stone the fallacies I committed and begin to atone for them bit-by-bit. I wish I could have addressed this directly in a letter (or text, for the sake of modernity) to you, but for me to disturb your tranquil now would be a grave trespass upon your peace of mind. Nevertheless, I really hope against all odds that, by some mischievous play of fortune, your eyes do come across this epistle.

Ramblings: Goodbye

Ten days ago, when April finally began, I had a couple of random thoughts about the fact of it being my last month in Nagpur. I wondered how I could say a fitting goodbye to a city that I had adopted for five years - one that has sheltered me for my college life. It's true that Nagpur wasn't a city that I chose, but one that was allotted to me through an entrance exam. The city didn't choose me either, for I knocked at its doors and could gain entry only through vacancies left open by others who left before I arrived. Nevertheless, it's a city that I adopted as mine. People often argue against child adoption with the strange idea that there cannot be any meaningful bond between the parents and their adopted child because they don't share any genes with each other. I was a very avid Quora surfer at some point in my brief life history and that was where I read a mother write that it isn't their DNA report that a kid will hold up in the air twenty years down the line to certify a bond with their parents; instead, they'll be reminiscing over old, fat photo albums and holding their parents' trembling hands tight to celebrate a triumph of love, which, frankly speaking, is all that matters. Memories, not genes, are what make a bond. The same analogy goes for cities too - I may not have any familial roots in Nagpur, but it is the place where I've made my catalogue of memories that I will possibly recount at every stage of life. Nagpur, apart from home, of course, is a place that has given me a sense of belonging. Every time I left for home or for an internship, I knew that I would always be coming back for something more and to resume some unfinished business, be it to catch up on empty gossip with friends or to simply attend a class, there was something to look forward to. Even when we had to leave Nagpur back in 2020 because of the lockdown, we took strength throughout from the belief that one day, we will all be back together in college again. This time, however, it's the end game, the last goodbye.

Discovery

June 24

00:15

"Can't sleep?"

"Not at all, I'm so excited for tomorrow!"

"Clearly... your excitement is pretty infectious too, I've got to give you that."

"Awww, did I just elicit a compliment out of you Vidhi?

"It's one for the history books, darling."

"Darling? My, my! What has gotten into you babe?"

"Ahhh, let's see then.... nope, you're the only one inside me and my heart right now Akshaya," Vidhi winked.

"Ewww, that's so gross. Go back to sleep, we don't want a late start tomorrow that will disturb the entire itinerary."

"I just love how organised you are about everything!"

"Well, if only you would go to sleep and not mess it up babe," Akshaya grinned sheepishly.

"Of course darling... let me kiss you goodnight, or is that not listed on your planner?" Vidhi smirked.

"I have room to accommodate a cute, little divergence - come over here!"

Young

Those beautiful locks of yours,

Cover your face like a shroud.

Resting on your shoulders, they garland your smile.

 

Those hips of yours,

Make me feel like a missionary.

Those curves of yours,

Make me go down on all fours.

ध्वंस

“स्वास्थ्य क्षेत्र के विशेषज्ञों और अन्य देशों के अनुभवों को ध्यान में रखते हुए, देश आज एक बहुत ही महत्वपूर्ण निर्णय करने जा रहा है। आज रात बारह बजे से पूरे देश में, कृपया ध्यान से सुनें, सम्पूर्ण देश में सम्पूर्ण लॉकडाउन होने जा रहा है। हिंदुस्तान को बचाने के लिए और उसके प्रत्येक नागरिक की सुरक्षा के लिए आज आधी रात से लोगों के घरों से बाहर निकलने पर पूरी तरह प्रतिबंध लगाया जा रहा है।”

यादव परिवार के घर कहलाने जाने वाली बंजर-सी चारदीवारी पर भारत के प्रधानमंत्री के यह "बुलंद" शब्द बिजली की तरह कड़कड़ाते हुए गिरे। तीन जनों का यह जवान परिवार मुंबई की चमक दमक और बड़े परदे वाले सितारों से परे, एक छोटी सी खोली में अपनी रातें गुजारा करता था। दिन का आशियाना तो अपने-अपने कामकाज में व्यस्त हो कर जैसे-तैसे निकल जाता था, सिर्फ उन अंधेर भरी रातो से कवच धारण करने के लिए यह पाँच हजार रुपए महीने के किराए की खोली का इस्तेमाल होता था। ज्यादा माल-समान उनके पास था नहीं, आखिर जरूरत से फालतू खरीदने की हैसियत ही कहाँ थी। न उनके मां-बाप की हुआ करती थी और न ही उनके बच्चों की होने वाली थी, थी तो बस एक उम्मीद कि जैसे अभी ऊपर वाला इम्तेहान ले रहा है, वैसे ही समय आने पर आशीर्वाद की वर्षा भी करवाएगा। बेहतर जिंदगी की ये झूठी उम्मीद अभिषेक और सुशीला यादव को अपने आठ वर्षीय बेटे गौरव के साथ पश्चिमी उत्तर प्रदेश के गांव से मुंबई शहर तक खींच लाई थी। खैर, इस दंपत्ति को भी यह अहसास होना, अलबत्ता धीरे-धीरे, शुरू हो चुका था कि यह चौदह-बाय-बारह का कमरा (जिसमे एक पैखाना और रसोई भी शामिल थे) उनके जीवन में कोई उद्धार नहीं ला पाएगा, बल्कि और सड़ा कर छोड़ेगा। परंतु अब उनके पास और उपाय क्या था सिवाय इसी जिंदगी में पिसे चलते-चले जाने के। कर्जा सिर पर चढ़ा ही रखा था और फिर गांव छोड़ के भी इसलिए ही तो आएं थे कि अपनी छोटी सी जमीन पर फसल बो कर काम नहीं चल रहा था। यह उनके लिए एक बड़ा असमंजस का मुद्दा बन चुका था और इसी विषय पर सोच विचार करते हुए अभिषेक और सुशीला दिन भर की थकान मिटाने के लिए नींद की तरफ करवट ले लेते थे। अभिषेक रोज सुबह मजदूरी ढूंढने के उद्देश्य से निकलता और भीड़ में विलप्त हो जाता था जबकि सुशीला पास की ऊंची इमारतों में बसे लोगों के घरों में रोजमर्रा के काम करती थी। उन घरों में काम करते वक्त वो अक्सर सोचती थी कि उसके पति ने भी कभी इस इमारत को खड़ा करने में अपनी मजदूरी का योगदान दिया होगा। इस से आगे बढ़कर यह सवाल भी उसके मन में उठता था कि जब इन घरों को बनाने का काम भी उन्ही लोगो का था, और बाद में इनकी देख-रेख तथा साफ-सफाई भी उनके जिम्मे आ पड़ती थी, तो फिर रिहाइश का आनंद कोई और क्यों उठा रहा था? ऐसा कैसे हो सकता था कि सारा खून पसीना एक करने के बाद भी फल किसी और को मिल रहा था? सुशीला ने ये सवाल अब तक अपने आप से कई सौ बार पूछ लिया था, पर कोई ढंग का निष्कर्ष नहीं निकाल पाई थी।

Discovery: Day Four

June 27

7:45

They had reached Meher's place in Greater Noida at around six in the evening, falling only a tad bit behind schedule in the end. They weren't mindful of that delay at all in light of the magnitude of revelations it had led to, together with the intensification it had brought about in their bonding. It was blissful enough that they had been spared the onslaught of navigating through peak hour traffic by dashing across Delhi in the nick of time. Inside Meher's living room, however, the absence of what one would have expected to be a marketplace of reminiscences from the past two years appalled the participants. Meher and her partner Utsuk failed to clutch at the nerve of this travesty and the lamp of enthusiasm burning ferociously in their minds dimmed slightly. Not fancying the design of ruminating over the affairs of their day, Vidhi and Akshaya decided to call it an early night shortly after an eerie dinner where conversation comprised mostly of ceramic dishes being clanked upon mercilessly by steel cutlery.

Victim's Right to Prefer Appeal: Tilting Scales in Favour of Victims?

(June, 2021)

Abstract - The Criminal Procedure Code, 1973 was amended in 2009 to confer upon victims the right to prefer appeal. This was done in pursuance of recommendations made by several high-level Committees on reforms in criminal law and in wake of an increasing focus on victimology. While the introduction of this right had become necessary for enabling victims to pursue justice independent of the State’s reluctance, the absence of any requirement of leave for appeal has given rise to a substantial controversy. Whether there was any legislative intent in doing away with this requirement wasn’t clear, but the majority opinion of the Supreme Court in Mallikarjun Kodagalli v. State of Karnataka put to rest all confusion when it directed that the requirement of leave for appeal to be preferred by a victim is not necessary. This paper undertakes comprehensive research on the relevant developments in criminal law that led up to the 2009 Amendment and traces the judicial history of cases concerning questions on the applicability and procedural aspects of this new right. The researcher argues that the Mallikarjun Kodagalli verdict, although liberal in interpretation, ends up tilting the scales of justice in favour of the victim rather than balancing it with the accused.

Ramblings: On Peepli Live and the Migrant Exodus

May 23, 2020 (Old): In the aftermath of Prime Minister Modi’s announcement of a nationwide lockdown with a token four-hour notice, a whole lot of controversies have emerged regarding the arbitrary attitude of the government and the consequential mismanagement of the entire health crisis that is brewing in the country. From faulty mathematical modelling and ineptitude of government agencies, to moral bankruptcy and police brutality, we have covered it all in the past sixty days. However, the most depressing issue of them all is the way in which the government has treated its migrant workers. The indifferent and undignified treatment of innocent migrants, plunged into an uncertain battle for survival, is a tell-tale signal of the burgeoning class divide in our society.

Curse of the Omnipresent Cookies - A Legal Analysis

Introduction

In cyberspace as it exists today, there is hardly any website which does not depend upon the usage of a cookie functionality. From an e-mail client and streaming platform to blogs and gaming portals, almost all of them incorporate the use of cookies for very basic operations that users can carry out on these websites. In fact, over the last couple of years, we have all observed that a pop-up outlining the cookie statement comes up whenever we open a website. In order to proceed with browsing, we have to agree to the use of certain necessary cookies whereas other additional ones can be refused. It often gets confusing for web users to decide whether they should allow cookies from the website or not since the policy clearly mandates that the cookie will effectively track the data that is generated by users. Further, a doubt also arises in a user’s mind as to which cookies are really necessary and which ones are not useful to their browsing experience. So, what are cookies?