Surely unsure maybe..

( Don't ask me to explain the title - for reasons best known to the author. oh yes! The author still exists and wants to resurrect her blog. Like the last time,).

Corruption is the funniest phenomenon. Not the funnily funny, rather the “funny” funny.
Trust me, it gets so weird and shocking when you come across corruption in the weirdest and the unimaginable-st places and for further more unimaginable things. Like last week. The week beforet he last. Yesterday too. Never mind.

I think N will remember this debate competition we attended more than a year back as part of a literary event organized by one of the engineering colleges here.
The topic ran like this – “ Corruption should be accepted as normal state of affairs in any nation”
I won’t circumlocute on this. I spoke for the point. Not pulling my hair off as to how one can even suggest such a thing I wanted to be the cool-headed one ( atleast I’d like to believe so) I decided I would be for the motion. Not without stressing the much hyped and yet needed “limits of acceptance” ofcourse. And obviously, I wasn’t the only one who felt so ‘cause it was a competition and we had to go in twos with one speaking for the motion and the other against. I had ample people whom I proudly called my obligatory supporters.
What I spoke is another issue and probably another blog. For now, let us get to the purpose of this blog. The “debater”, I’d like to call him.
The “debater” who shook the podium, pushed it almost offstage, ate the mic, banged the poor podium (poor thingy!) and who used a neo-version of American sign language interwined with manual alphabet and ofcourse assisted by a few looks ( courtesy: WWF ; is it still called by that name?? ). The same “debater” who cried hoarse and scorned and laughed and jeered at how we could even think of such a thing as accepting corruption. “ Corruption!! Corruption, you say!! Ha ha!! Normal state of affairs?! My God! Corruption!! How could you? I mean.. how could you?”, he bellowed. It was then, that I appreciated the root word “belli” that gave rise to “belligerent”.
I was only relieved that he didn’t strangle the organizers for even thinking of such a topic for debate.
Some people were in total rapture and some even laughed. “ Please give him some water”, I heard myself say, much to the amusement of judges who were sitting close to me.
After 3 + 1 min + a few more seconds of agitation, commotion and all the – tion ending words that mean what I want to say, he left the poor podium and went back to his seat, his ears pink and fuming. I couldn’t help picturising the yahoo messenger emoticon for anger then.
But somewhere long, I felt happy. Atleast he is passionate about what he spoke, I thought. In his own way.
There was a break between and I left for home. On my way back, I saw that the traffic police were inspecting driving licenses near the traffic signal and as I stopped at the signal, I saw that the “debater” was there, saying something to the traffic policeman, handing over a 50 rupees note. Mellow and apologetic, it took me a while to confirm if it was him.
Ofcourse, I understood what must be happening.
The first emotion I felt was not shock. Rather, pretty much like any of you out there, I felt angry. And then, the huh- so much-fo-all-that-drama onstage.
It really pains me to think that people debate on issues to win that prize or tell the others that they have good “public – speaking” skills.
I don’t deny that everybody likes to win. To make their point. To be appreciated. But how is debate a debate, when the speaker himself doesn’t believe what he/she says? Why, fight for a cause, when you would probably withdraw from it, when you actually face a challenging situation? Why advocate something only to go against it minutes after you have spoken for the same? Why all this uncertainty?
Most of all, why name politicians as hypocrites when you yourself couldn’t make a small difference? If we aren’t truly passionate about what we say, how can we ever dream of a beautiful nation?

Like last week, I had this neighbour walk up proudly to my mom and talk proudly about how she flicked items meant to be given to poor women. This lady was a senior member of the Mahila samaj and you wouldn't want to know what all she "transported" to her own godown. If not for great honesty, certainly such acts can be avoided, can't they?

Our very own helper, who also works for an anganwadi surprised us, last week. She came to our place in teh afternoon unlike other days, after finishing her work at the Anganwadi. And guess what? she had the raw items of the mid-day meal in her hands - rice, dal and what not, all neatly tucked in 2 huge containers. And she came in coolly asking for water saying she was tired after carrying all the luggage. And when asked why she got what was not rightfully hers, pat came the reply " aa senior madam kotru. avru dina thogolthare",meaning that the senior madam there gave her that and she herself flicks the raw materials everyday.

That's pretty much how it starts. The story of the bad apple.

Sad, true but needs reforms bigtime!! And all that from us - the cliched "future leaders" ( Mr. K, I agree cliches are good :) )That would be another post, I guess and based on your responses, ofcourse :)

For now, I better pack those chocolates. Else, my little fellows at therapy will give me a tough time.
Bribe, for once, seems so endearing :)