Different Shades of Gray: For Truth Must Prevail (And Reality Too)
I knew S since my school days. If I remember correctly, he was 3 years my senior in school. However, he was not one of the 'good' students; he smoked, perhaps also drank and did all other stuff that a shy, awkward, (officially acknolwdeged as a) 'good' student would avoid doing (It would take a couple of years more before I would turn into a renegade!). So I never talked to him until I joined my undergraduate, and my friend L joined engineering.
By then I started hanging out with L and his friends whenever we both were back home together; S was one of those friends. He was one of the regulars at the tea-shop where we used to spend hours chatting. By now, S had become somewhat polished; in fact, he never talked rudely to me. I would never know the reason -- there could be many: my being out of home (and thus attaining a guest status back home), my being considered a good guy back home, my being L's friend, my being close to N, who was next door neighbor to S etc.. It could also be that what I had earlier considered rude were actually all witty sacasm of a happy-go-lucky guy!
One of the sharpest memories that I have of that period is that of S's white T-shirt, on which was written "Ajinomoto". (Loosely translated, it meant in my language, "I won't urinate today", something S often used to joke about.)
One of the sharpest memories that I have of that period is that of S's white T-shirt, on which was written "Ajinomoto". (Loosely translated, it meant in my language, "I won't urinate today", something S often used to joke about.)
And then, one day S vanished into the thin air. I would later come to know that S joined a "revolutionary" organization, and went to Myanmar for armed training. None would see him until a few years later, when N's father would meet him on the street. S had just shot a guy, an ex-colleague who later became a police informer (he would survive), and was looking for an escape route. S stopped N's father, asked for his bicycle and told him that the bicylce would be returned to him through some 'channel'. Of course, it was not wise for a guy -- with a sub-machine guy in his backpack -- to ride his motorcycle when the Indian Army would definitely block all escape routes and would check each passing vehicle.
Nobody would see him again; at least, not alive! About six months after that incident, the Indian army would hand over S's bullet-ridden body to his family. Apparently, S was killed in an 'encounter'.
N would later tell me that S was not interested to join the organization. There were about 20 guys leaving from my hometown on a particular day in that year to join that organization, but suddenly one of them developed cold feet, and when the leader of the group asked S if he would go instead, he agreed.
I would never know why he did that, but this reminds me of the poem "The Man He Killed".
"He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
Off-hand like—just as I
Was out of work—had sold his traps
No other reason why."
People who may find it logical that a 'terrorist' deserved the death he got, would not be able to argue in the same line after they read the following story.
JS, unlike S, had just completed his studies as a veterinarian and was waiting to receive his appointment letter for his first job. An uncle of his girlfriend was getting married, and naturally, he was one of the guests of honor at the wedding. So, when the groom's side went to the bride's home that night for the wedding ceremony, JS was in the car with the groom and so would be a girl, a friend of JS's girlfriend, who hailed from another state and was studying veterinary in my state. As usual, the Indian army would stop them, ask a few questions, look at their cars and then congratulate the groom and let them go.
Within 10 minutes of this, however, an army jeep would come rushing from behind and the armymen would pump dozens of bullets into the car carrying the groom and others. JS and R, the visiting girl from another state, would die on the spot. A 10-year old nephew of the groom would be shot at his feet. The army would later explain that members of the teorrist organization shot at them, to which they retaliated and JS and R died when they come in in the line of fire. Interestingly, the incident happened in the middle of nowhere, where the road runs for miles between paddy fields.
U., one of the guys in the next car, would arrive at our home at morning 6-45 and would tell us about the unfortunate incident. JS was 2 years senior to me, and his father was a teacher in my school. I was still in bed and when I would wake up and hear about it, I would thank my stars because the two dead bodies could have been that of RB and mine the previous night!
The wedding of a sister of DD, one of my brother's close friends, was on that day, and the previous night the guys were busy decorating and doing other such things at his home. It was imperative for me to be present thre, though none would expect me to really work! I was there since about 7-30 PM until 11-00 PM. Then we planned to go home, have our dinner and then to go back to his place. BR proposed that he would pick me up at home and we would go together.
BR arrived at around 12-15 night and we both went by his motorcycle. It was on old Jawa motorcycle and it made pretty loud noise. On our way, we saw a jeep coming towards us at very high speed. We both hoped that it was not an Army jeep, because the army had banned pillion riding io motorccles. BR moved his bike to the side of the road, slowed down and waited, in case it was an Army jeep and they ordered us to stop!
It was indeed an Army jeep; but they did not even look at us, and went ahead at full-speed. We could see that an army personnel was talking on the wireless (not a cellphone; it was Army wireless system!) and communicating with someone.
We would return home at 2-30 AM without any incident. Later when I tried to think about the jeep, I was pretty convinced that it was the same jeep that carried the guys who pumped bullets at JS at about 12-45 AM, and all circumstancial evidence showed that I was right in my conclusions!
Each time I think about this, I also realize that that night BR and I could have been shot dead instead. My state was under the Armed Forces Special Power Act, and the Army did not need to explain if they shot someone. Also we clearly violated a prohibitory order by two of us riding a motorcycle.
As time would make it clear, JS was shot dead as a result of mistaken identity, due to which the Army thought him to be JKS, an area commander of the organization which the Army was trying to capture/kill for long time, with whom JS had very strong physical and facial resembalances; they even shared the same surname, mentioned here as S. (The Indian Army would shot JKS dead, while having his lunch in a community feast at his village, perhaps at point blank range a few years later!).
When I look back at many such incidents, I get totally confused. Which side should I take? Whom should I support? Is there a reality? Is there something good against something else that is evil? Is there any objective truth? Is it like what Neil Bohr said: There are two kinds of truths. There are the first kind of truths, for which the opposite is obviously false; but there are the other class of truths, the deeper truths, where the opposite is equally truth.
I've often listened to people describing (with obvious pride and pleasure) how his friend, working in the Army, shot dead some terrorist in the NE, the region I belong to; but each time I hear such a story, I feel within me that that terrorist could well be a guy I had known someday, someone who had perhaps studied with me, or at least, belonged to my town.
Could I possibly blame the Army for the killings? I do blame the Indian Army when some of the Armymen come on a Speed Boat and gang-rape an innocent 18-year old girl, who died as a result of this. But, when an Army, trained to treat everyone as an enemy, is called to establish and maintain internal law and order, it is but natural that it would treat its 'revolting' countrymen in the same way as it does invading intruders. And to judge them, I only know one side of each story! JS or S would never wake up again to tell their versions; neither would there ebver be any impartial investigation into any of the deaths. And so, we all would derive our own conclusions and be happy with it!
I am not justifying anything. As I told you, I could well have been one of the terrorists shot dead in an 'encounter' one night in May, 1992! But after witnessing so many different incidents, and seeing different versions of truth, it's just that nothing in black and white remains for me anymore; everything is just different shades of grey for me.
***********************************************************************
I lived in one of the most volatile parts of the world for a few years. As a dark-skinned person who did not belong to the land or its religion, and someone who did not speak their language, I had to always carry my passport with me, and every 100 meters or so, show it to someone from the security. A couple of times, even civilians demanded to see my ID at some bus-stop. When I entered a plane, the comedy was ultimate. My toothbrush won't go to the X-ray machine with my toothpaste. Each of them would have to make an individual, solitary journey.
As a shy, introvert, low-profile, egotistic person, I felt humiliated at each of such incidents. I stopped going out on my own, was always extremely self-conscious and avoided everything that is possible; in a nutshell, I avoided everyone. I witnessed suspicion in every person looking at me; perhaps most of it were imaginary, but some of it was for sure real. For example, when a family would walk to the end of the bus after seeing me entering a bus, even after asking the driver about my idenity and the driver telling them that I was NOT what they are afraid of, I really felt humiliated. I am pretty sure that I would never set foot in that land again. My self-esteem does not permit that.
But does that mean that I hate the country? No. Does it also mean that what they do is human rights violation? No! (Though, if a similar treatment is faced by a foreigner in my country, perhaps they would raise this issue in the U.N.; but then my country is a poor country and the poor must always be ready to face humiliation; that is the golden rule! Even a woman caught with kilos of marijuana from that country I mentioned above, had to be released due to diplomatic pressures. So much for fair-play! But that is another story.).
I realized that they had no other choice, when within an hour of my leaving a cafeteria, it was blown up in a suicide bombing killing a dozen people. Each time a bus was blown into pieces, I realized the necessity of body search and other such measures. They could not take chances.
One of the sides in that conflict is now governed by a group who calls itself revolutionary and whom many others call terrorist. As a group, they carried out maximum number of suicide bombings and killed and maimed many people. They have caused tremendous amount of damage to a nation and its psyche.
But at the same time, they maintain a series of social service and charity network for their people (I am not trying to justify their actions; nor do I think that there is any excuse for carrying out sucide bombings and killing innocent people. As someone who has seen communal violence since his early teens, I can never even think of justifying such actions. But all I am trying to imply is that the same group, who has no hesitastion to blow up dozens, does charity work among theor own people). Now, when I try to think like one of those people in that territory, I cannot decide if I should consider them revolutionaries or as terrorists?
But then, I am an outsider. What right do I have to take anyone's side? Do I even understand the nature and depth of the conflict? Perhaps not. I understood that when I first moved to South India, the so-called 'cultured' part of India.
I hail from a 'backward', remote part of the country, and yet my state was devoid of most social problems that other parts of India has! But after I moved to the South, I came to know about lots of social problems that that regios had. However, I tried to argue with my own line of thinking and what I saw in my society back home; as a result, I made a number of enemies. Only later did I realize that I did not have any first-hand understading of the society there, or the depth and the nature of its problems; thus, I was never competent enough to comment on any of its issues.
Does this realization help me? No, it just leaves me even more confused!
___________________________________________________________________
Source: http://www.bartleby.com/103/3.html
N would later tell me that S was not interested to join the organization. There were about 20 guys leaving from my hometown on a particular day in that year to join that organization, but suddenly one of them developed cold feet, and when the leader of the group asked S if he would go instead, he agreed.
I would never know why he did that, but this reminds me of the poem "The Man He Killed".
"He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
Off-hand like—just as I
Was out of work—had sold his traps
No other reason why."
People who may find it logical that a 'terrorist' deserved the death he got, would not be able to argue in the same line after they read the following story.
JS, unlike S, had just completed his studies as a veterinarian and was waiting to receive his appointment letter for his first job. An uncle of his girlfriend was getting married, and naturally, he was one of the guests of honor at the wedding. So, when the groom's side went to the bride's home that night for the wedding ceremony, JS was in the car with the groom and so would be a girl, a friend of JS's girlfriend, who hailed from another state and was studying veterinary in my state. As usual, the Indian army would stop them, ask a few questions, look at their cars and then congratulate the groom and let them go.
Within 10 minutes of this, however, an army jeep would come rushing from behind and the armymen would pump dozens of bullets into the car carrying the groom and others. JS and R, the visiting girl from another state, would die on the spot. A 10-year old nephew of the groom would be shot at his feet. The army would later explain that members of the teorrist organization shot at them, to which they retaliated and JS and R died when they come in in the line of fire. Interestingly, the incident happened in the middle of nowhere, where the road runs for miles between paddy fields.
U., one of the guys in the next car, would arrive at our home at morning 6-45 and would tell us about the unfortunate incident. JS was 2 years senior to me, and his father was a teacher in my school. I was still in bed and when I would wake up and hear about it, I would thank my stars because the two dead bodies could have been that of RB and mine the previous night!
The wedding of a sister of DD, one of my brother's close friends, was on that day, and the previous night the guys were busy decorating and doing other such things at his home. It was imperative for me to be present thre, though none would expect me to really work! I was there since about 7-30 PM until 11-00 PM. Then we planned to go home, have our dinner and then to go back to his place. BR proposed that he would pick me up at home and we would go together.
BR arrived at around 12-15 night and we both went by his motorcycle. It was on old Jawa motorcycle and it made pretty loud noise. On our way, we saw a jeep coming towards us at very high speed. We both hoped that it was not an Army jeep, because the army had banned pillion riding io motorccles. BR moved his bike to the side of the road, slowed down and waited, in case it was an Army jeep and they ordered us to stop!
It was indeed an Army jeep; but they did not even look at us, and went ahead at full-speed. We could see that an army personnel was talking on the wireless (not a cellphone; it was Army wireless system!) and communicating with someone.
We would return home at 2-30 AM without any incident. Later when I tried to think about the jeep, I was pretty convinced that it was the same jeep that carried the guys who pumped bullets at JS at about 12-45 AM, and all circumstancial evidence showed that I was right in my conclusions!
Each time I think about this, I also realize that that night BR and I could have been shot dead instead. My state was under the Armed Forces Special Power Act, and the Army did not need to explain if they shot someone. Also we clearly violated a prohibitory order by two of us riding a motorcycle.
As time would make it clear, JS was shot dead as a result of mistaken identity, due to which the Army thought him to be JKS, an area commander of the organization which the Army was trying to capture/kill for long time, with whom JS had very strong physical and facial resembalances; they even shared the same surname, mentioned here as S. (The Indian Army would shot JKS dead, while having his lunch in a community feast at his village, perhaps at point blank range a few years later!).
When I look back at many such incidents, I get totally confused. Which side should I take? Whom should I support? Is there a reality? Is there something good against something else that is evil? Is there any objective truth? Is it like what Neil Bohr said: There are two kinds of truths. There are the first kind of truths, for which the opposite is obviously false; but there are the other class of truths, the deeper truths, where the opposite is equally truth.
I've often listened to people describing (with obvious pride and pleasure) how his friend, working in the Army, shot dead some terrorist in the NE, the region I belong to; but each time I hear such a story, I feel within me that that terrorist could well be a guy I had known someday, someone who had perhaps studied with me, or at least, belonged to my town.
Could I possibly blame the Army for the killings? I do blame the Indian Army when some of the Armymen come on a Speed Boat and gang-rape an innocent 18-year old girl, who died as a result of this. But, when an Army, trained to treat everyone as an enemy, is called to establish and maintain internal law and order, it is but natural that it would treat its 'revolting' countrymen in the same way as it does invading intruders. And to judge them, I only know one side of each story! JS or S would never wake up again to tell their versions; neither would there ebver be any impartial investigation into any of the deaths. And so, we all would derive our own conclusions and be happy with it!
I am not justifying anything. As I told you, I could well have been one of the terrorists shot dead in an 'encounter' one night in May, 1992! But after witnessing so many different incidents, and seeing different versions of truth, it's just that nothing in black and white remains for me anymore; everything is just different shades of grey for me.
***********************************************************************
I lived in one of the most volatile parts of the world for a few years. As a dark-skinned person who did not belong to the land or its religion, and someone who did not speak their language, I had to always carry my passport with me, and every 100 meters or so, show it to someone from the security. A couple of times, even civilians demanded to see my ID at some bus-stop. When I entered a plane, the comedy was ultimate. My toothbrush won't go to the X-ray machine with my toothpaste. Each of them would have to make an individual, solitary journey.
As a shy, introvert, low-profile, egotistic person, I felt humiliated at each of such incidents. I stopped going out on my own, was always extremely self-conscious and avoided everything that is possible; in a nutshell, I avoided everyone. I witnessed suspicion in every person looking at me; perhaps most of it were imaginary, but some of it was for sure real. For example, when a family would walk to the end of the bus after seeing me entering a bus, even after asking the driver about my idenity and the driver telling them that I was NOT what they are afraid of, I really felt humiliated. I am pretty sure that I would never set foot in that land again. My self-esteem does not permit that.
But does that mean that I hate the country? No. Does it also mean that what they do is human rights violation? No! (Though, if a similar treatment is faced by a foreigner in my country, perhaps they would raise this issue in the U.N.; but then my country is a poor country and the poor must always be ready to face humiliation; that is the golden rule! Even a woman caught with kilos of marijuana from that country I mentioned above, had to be released due to diplomatic pressures. So much for fair-play! But that is another story.).
I realized that they had no other choice, when within an hour of my leaving a cafeteria, it was blown up in a suicide bombing killing a dozen people. Each time a bus was blown into pieces, I realized the necessity of body search and other such measures. They could not take chances.
One of the sides in that conflict is now governed by a group who calls itself revolutionary and whom many others call terrorist. As a group, they carried out maximum number of suicide bombings and killed and maimed many people. They have caused tremendous amount of damage to a nation and its psyche.
But at the same time, they maintain a series of social service and charity network for their people (I am not trying to justify their actions; nor do I think that there is any excuse for carrying out sucide bombings and killing innocent people. As someone who has seen communal violence since his early teens, I can never even think of justifying such actions. But all I am trying to imply is that the same group, who has no hesitastion to blow up dozens, does charity work among theor own people). Now, when I try to think like one of those people in that territory, I cannot decide if I should consider them revolutionaries or as terrorists?
But then, I am an outsider. What right do I have to take anyone's side? Do I even understand the nature and depth of the conflict? Perhaps not. I understood that when I first moved to South India, the so-called 'cultured' part of India.
I hail from a 'backward', remote part of the country, and yet my state was devoid of most social problems that other parts of India has! But after I moved to the South, I came to know about lots of social problems that that regios had. However, I tried to argue with my own line of thinking and what I saw in my society back home; as a result, I made a number of enemies. Only later did I realize that I did not have any first-hand understading of the society there, or the depth and the nature of its problems; thus, I was never competent enough to comment on any of its issues.
Does this realization help me? No, it just leaves me even more confused!
___________________________________________________________________
Source: http://www.bartleby.com/103/3.html
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