23 march 1931

The yellowish light lit along the empty corridor gave away only bleak illumination into the room through those iron bars. But it didn’t matter much. He was voraciously going through the miniscule wordings of the book as if a hungry child eating his long awaited food.
"State and Revolution" by Vladimir Lenin. He had read lot about this revolutionist and his thinking. But reading this book is much more than that. It was like talking to the man himself.
"What a clarity in his thought." Bhagat sighed. He felt as if he will miss this knowledge most after this day, only second to his love- his country and fellowmen. For him it is just another day. A day of thoughts, a day of enlightenment and a day towards the social good. But whole nation was suffering from agonising pain as they saw the night lowering its curtain. Every inmate- political and non political together gazed at them with enormous love and sorrow. Even the stones in jail lay lustreless as if moaning into the darkness of the night.
Both Sukhi and Guru was lying in two corners of the room with their eyes shut. But Bhagat could feel that both of them are still awake deeply buried in their thoughts. In hours they together will face their destiny. A destiny much awaited. A destiny which thousands of young fellow men are craving to reach. To die as a martyr for the beloved motherland.
Outside the jail room silence ruled the night. Bhagat was sure that very few could sleep tonight in this jail. But as always, silence ruled the night. Intermittent footsteps and low whispering sounds did nothing to avert his attention from his newly found friend-Lenin.
He was always patriotic. It ran in the family. But the thing that shook his heart and soul was that massacre. He could clearly remember the blood stains, its noxious smell that stayed in the park for weeks and still thumbing in his head. It made him the fighter he is today. Soon came the days of confusion, anger and frustration. Days went by, reminding him of his destiny. Time played games with him. And here he is, face to face with his destiny. But that now he is not the lad, angry and frustrated, weeping loud at his helplessness. He has matured as a revolutionary. Now his vision is full of hope and clarity. He has foreseen the redemption of his people in an India which transforms itself into a socialist republic. May be the time is not ripe till now. But he was sure of its ultimate success.
The jailer and the guard were marching through the corridor with their heavy legs. Their minds were as gloomy as the starless sky outside. Nobody had a little desire of the task they are up to today. Those three lads were little adamant but never on whole earth did they deserve such a punishment. As they approached that particular cell room they saw one of them sitting close to the iron bars reading a book. And the other two were sitting upright behind him as if eagerly awaiting their arrival. The one with book was Bhagat, most vocal and appealing of the three.
" What is the book, lad? Something religious? " Queried a guard.
"Sought of !" Young man raised his head from the book with a smile and soon buried it back.
"I am sorry lad. Your time is up. You must get up now." told the jailer, sympathy clearly breaking his strong voice.
Bhagat singh hurried through the last paragraph of the book and smiled to his friends with relief
" Its just one revolutionary meeting the other. "
He told as he left the cell room along with his friends into the roaring slogans that made the jail erupt---
" Inquilab Zindabad"
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"The aim of life is no more to control mind, but to develop it harmoniously, not to achieve salvation hereafter, but to make the best use of it here below, and not to realize truth, beauty and good only in contemplation, but also in the actual experience of daily life ; social progress depends not upon the ennoblement of the few but on the enrichment of the many; and spiritual democracy or universal brotherhood can be achieved only when there is an equality of opportunity in the social, political and industrial life"….. Bhagat Singh
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Me and Her

Kept starring upon her graceful eyes
Those, like ocean, beneath lay umpteen prize
Kept reading her voiceless signs
Those, like stars, elude us by shining nice

Ah! Dying for those dimple cheeks
Would kiss it as if a blooming rose
Oh! Heaven that awesome smile
Me diving into sweet porridge rice

Come along my beautiful heart
Hand in hand we'll walk those tracks
Where love has sown those seeds so thick
That fragrant flower grew plenty aside

Alas, apart from those shimmering dreams
With sorrow, I gaze into those twinkling eyes
To make sure my heart knows just it is-
A lifeless picture on my laptop screen.

A TRAVELOGUE
"Liberty will not descend to a people. A people must raise themselves to Liberty. It is a blessing that must be earned before it can be enjoyed"
The bullets have produced everlasting scars in those red bricked wall. They are narrating their not so glorious story of security breach that registered those wounds on them in a December 13 daylight. We stood there picturing how things unfolded that day through the elaboration given to us by our guide.
This is the epicentre of Indian democracy- our Parliament. The voluminous structure built in our imperial past with huge pillars and eye-catching corridors. We were following our guide as a herd following its shepherd. When he was rushing us through things the large pictures that hung on the side walls of the low lit corridor caught my attention. As always was, I stared at them with utmost interest reading every little details given below. The pictures depicted the evolution of Indian civilisation admixed with characters of our epics and puranas. I wondered how much our past is mixed with our beliefs and folklores, to such an extent that one couldn’t be delineated from the other. Making his impatience clear, our otherwise pleasant guide instructed us to move fast as we haven’t till reached our main destination yet.
Yet again the sheer size of the structures around made my jaw drop down. In the first floor we walked through the corridor viewing the outside world between its huge pillars. A mild breeze was flowing right into our face. We were walking through the corridors of this great institution and the very thought filled in me much pride and well being. Before entering the Loksabha we again entered a creepy low lit corridor. The guide knocked the doors and as he went toward it a low beep sound suddenly creaked into the silence. The scanner fitted outside each door read the identity card hung over his chest and made that little beep.
We entered the Loksabha viewers gallery as he lead us and sat in it as the guide started explaining things to us. He explained us about the various seating arrangements, the method of operation, the voting system, so on and so forth. He also told about the two "translator rooms" with all enthusiasm and we were amazed at the sheer work load of those sitting there and interconverting every word that is said on the floor of the house. Then came the "prize question" from our commentator. How will you distinguish the look alike Loksabha and Rajyasabha from each other? We were dumbstruck. Even after being regular ‘viewer’ of the parliamentary proceedings in the television I didn’t notice or think of any difference in the two apart from the title given by doordarshan as to whether we are watching rajyasabha or loksabha proceedings.
" Look at the floorings"
Uttered our guide as he turned out to be the winner .It was green. Now I see it –green, green all over the place. He explained –as the parliament was built on the model of the British one, Loksabha represented the House of commons and the Rajyasabha the House of Lords. Green of Loksabha represented the people and its representatives (the commons) and the Red of rajyasabha represented the royalty (the lords).
The Rajyasabha was definitely looking more royal than Loksabha with its red attractive floorings, its cushion seats and with its entire look. I was amused by such a finding in our "modern democracy". May be it represented our attitude to democracy, our irresistible link with our imperial and feudal past.
Now we descended through a narrow little ladder which our guide aptly introduced as the "secret passage". We entered the common hall for joint house of parliament. A large hall with interesting upturned fans. The pictures of our great leaders, former prime ministers were hung all over the place. A sedately smiling Mahatma stood behind the president’s chair. All our eyes were straying through those photos when my eyes stuck at one. It was hung exactly opposite Gandhi at the far end-of Savarkar. I was caught in the paradox in it. Savarkar an early revolutionary who later turned abruptly into a "hindutva" ideologue was even alleged of links with the assassination of the Father of nation. He was staring right into Gandhiji with a sheepish smile. May be all this are the representations of our "evolving" democracy and nation.
We took ourselves then to the central park with towering statues. All these created amusement and belonging to the visiting tourists in daylight but terrorised the staff around in the night ( in the words of our humorous guide). Finally we were coming to the end of our memorable parliament visit and as we collected our things from the security area and thanked our guide it was already twilight outside.
We walked from outside the parliament to the area of ‘South and North blocks’ and towards the Presidents palace(Rastrapati bhavan). The well built black roads along with beautiful fountains attracted our imagination.
We took our turn in photographing each others. Walking into the Rastapati bhavan we get south and north block on either sides. When we were returning, the awesome sinking sun made us ecstatic. The huge red globe was descending rapidly behind the brownish building giving it an unusual charm. Between the mesmerisation produced by this whole experience my attention got stuck at those few words that are written over a doorway of North block. It said-
"Liberty will not descend to a people. A people must raise themselves to Liberty. It is a blessing that must be earned before it can be enjoyed"
On besides this great institution of our democracy these lines made me think whether we the people of India are ready to earn our Liberty. Has the time come for us to raise ourselves? To free ourselves from the clutches of our ‘coloured lords’ who have taken the baton of power from the ‘white lords’ 60 years earlier. Only time will show us the way.
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