Bangalore Railway station incident

A few mails..read and decide :)

Doesn' hurt to be careful

U b the judge :) and read the post script...

Hi!

I would like to bring to notice a certain injustice that I have subjected to at the Bangalore Railway Station (Majestic). On September 30 (Friday), 2005, I had been to the station to see off my fiance and her mother. They took the Karnataka Express (Train #2627) to Jhansi at 6:30 pm .

On my way out I was asked to present my platform ticket by a railway official. On producing the same, the TT turned around and told me "What if I say that you haven't given me the ticket?" Before I could react, he along with his colleague pushed me into the adjacent enquiry cabin and physically manhandled me. I was slapped several times, my spectacles were grabbed and deliberately crushed by foot, and my phone was flung away from me. The RPF comprising of one RPF and four constables, appeared on the scene. The surrounding public was whisked away. None of the railway police officials cared to listen to me and they started hitting me indiscriminately with lathis. They dragged me out, and all the 4 constables continued hitting me with lathis from Platform 1 to Platform 3/5, till we reached the station master's cabin. Racist abuses and threats were made on the way. At the station master's cabin, I was told that I have been charged with a non-bailable offence and would be behind bars for 15 days.

Not for a single moment was I allowed to speak. All of a sudden a stranger came to the scene and he claimed that he was there to help me. Having lost all my physical strength and mental senses, I was happy to see some sort of help. He, claiming to be V Srinivas from Infosys, talked to the officials and the railway police in Kannada. He told me that the only way I was to get out was if I was willing to pay my way through. Being in no state to make a rational choice, I gave him my ATM card and pin. He took one of the RPF chaps along with him and said he would clear the matter. He returned some time later saying that everything was okay now.

I was asked to sign a statement which said that I hit the police and TT in a drunken state. I refused. Finally, they pressurized me to write that I did not produce a platform ticket when asked. I wrote the same and then V Srinivas took me out of the station. He joined me in an auto and took me to the ICICI ATM at Anand Rao circle. He withdrew Rs. 15000 from my ATM and got back. he took the cash under the pretext that while helping me he had left his wallet in the train he had left behind and that he would return the same through his ICICI Internet account. Having broken down mentally I did not realise that I was being cheated. He then took me to a Samsung showroom and tried purchasing a cellphone worth Rs. 18500 with my card. It was only then that I realised what was happening. I grabbed my card back, caught him by the collar, snatched my cash that lay in his pocket, and got into a running auto.

I have now realized that all of this was a plan. There is a strong nexus between the railway officials, the railway police and the fraudster. The railway officials identify a victim who they think is well-to-do, the RPF beat that individual till he has no physical or mental well-being. Then this fraud chap comes on to the scene, takes advantage of the situation, and takes all your cash away. Also, this series of events generally occurs on the last day of the month as they know that the salary gets credited on this day. (This strikes me now because the self-proclaimed Infy employee, V Srinivas, clearly asked me whether I had received my salary. He said that he just wanted to find out if there was cash enough to tackle the case.)

Now three days hence, I have tried to run from pillar to post. I have been forced to miss office hours in my effort to get justice. But I don't want to give up the fight midway. If any of you are in the media, or have friends/relatives who are in the industry, I'd like to speak with them about this in greater detail. I can be reached on XXXXX or XXXXXX. I believe it would catalyze my efforts.

Also, please pass this email to all the people who reside in Bangalore, so that they don't fall into the same trap.

Regards,

Nimish V Adani

IIML Batch of 2003

Post-Script

Dear All,

I have been seeing a lot of thread on this particular issue for a long time and i would like to clarify that there has been a detail investigation and would like to bring to everybodys knowledge that this guy Nimesh Advani or who ever he is made a big hue and cry and blamed the railways people and the unknown person.

After the detail investigation the fact is that Nimesh Advani was drunk totally and was not carrying the platform ticket as well when the TC asked for the ticket he started abusing in hindi and started telling that he works for a prominent MNC and passed out of IIM.

Now once the facts came out in public he apologised and has also withdrawn the complaint he had lodged.

ANIL

The unwanted one

The unwanted one

Pages from a dairy

22 April 1969
Abhi was to the sound of music and laughter. The entire family rejoiced the birth of the long-awaited son. He was always ahead of me. Even at birth. I entered the world five minutes too late. Not to joy, but gloom; for I took my mother’s life. I was destined to be the unwanted one.

3 September 1980
We were identical twins with diametrically opposite fates. Abhi was showered with gifts. I had to do with leftovers. He got the bouquets, I the brickbats. He played the pranks I received the spanking. He could do no wrong, whilst I was branded the unwanted one.

19 December 1991
He won competitions without participating. I struggled to make myself noticed. The images I dreamt of were his reality- in life and in love. I worshipped the ground she trod on, but it was Abhi she courted. Abhi she loved. Abhi she married. For who could desire me, was I not the unwanted one.

News clipping
Berhampur, Orissa (May 5) - Officials believe the fatal accident that happened Friday on Route 50 was caused due to break failure. Amit Das lost his life, while the elder brother Abhi had a miraculous escape. Abhi is currently recuperating in Saraswati Devi Hospital.

Epilogue
“Abhi” survived the crash. The shock of the accident has taken a heavy toll on him.
He has a severe case of amnesia, losing all past recollections. Friends and family feel that he behaves exactly like his younger brother at times. They do not know that “Abhi” holds a secret. Whom the God’s love, die young. And even God did not love the unwanted one.

Organised Kidnapping

India celebrated it’s 55th r Republic Day on Jan 26, 2005 :)

People in Patna (the capital of Bihar, a state in eastern India) did not share much joy, thanks to a series of kidnapping.Two schoolboys have been kidnapped. And the nation was glued to the events.

I asked a few friends about what the state of affairs was. And I was amazed. I may warn that the following statements are from reliable sources; but do not blame me if they are wrong:). They definitely make good reading :)


Kidnapping is (I learn) an organised crime. It is a perfect business model with financial details not present in many Indian companies. For example did u know that the ransom could be paid in EMIs (easy monthly instalments)!!!!!

The kidnapping sector shows instances of pricing that I had hardly believed possible. Everyone has a price.
Based on your age, gender, occupation, family income. Everyone is priced.

An engineer commands “xyz” rate if kidnapped. And a doctor would command “abc”. The only son is worth “mnp”!!!

People have been routinely kidnapped and re-kidnapped, even by the same gang. And if u can not pay the full ransom amount. Do not worry.
Pay in instalments. You can pay a lump sum initially at a pre-agreed destination. The remainder can me paid on pre-agreed days.

If the remainder is not paid, they can kidnap always u again:)

I am trying to gather more info. If anyone of u has some info. Please do share:)

The Cat named India

I aws surprised when I learnt that Bush’s cat is called “India”.
So The First Cat in the US of A shares it’s name with the country.

Well, my lizard is called Bush, she said. The male one is called George, she added. And the cockroach is named “W”.

People keep pet cockroaches? The world never ceases to surprise..

How did I feel? Dunno.
Was surprised.
Sad? No, not exactly. Angry, No..

BTW read Gaya’s post “Lessons from a Cat” http://spaces.msn.com/members/gayathrie/Blog/cns!1pCxbO_mwqSc94PKjVJwAzVg!359.entry

there’s a lot she learnt from the cat…
Maybe India is teaching Bush a few things too :)

New Hope

The waves kissed her feet. The balmy breeze tried to dry her tears, in vain. The tears continued to flow.

She looked ahead at the vast expanse. They had always cheered her. She remembers playing with the waves. They had been her best friends. Her soul mates. They had shared all her joys. And all her grief. They listened patiently to all her complaints. They splashed themselves to make her smile. And they had been her constant companions.

Appa (father) had always worshiped the seas. They provided them with their livelihood. Appa took his boat to the bountiful sea everyday, and returned back with the catch. Amma (mother) sold it in the local market. And it had provided enough to send Anna (elder brother) and buy books and uniform. Anna would become a big, important person one day. And she had also started going to school, after the launch of “mid-day meal” scheme. One should not refuse free food, Amma had said. The education was unimportant.

She did not enjoy going to school. No one liked her. She was treated as an outcast. She preferred the sea, and the waves. They never shouted at her. Never laughed at her. And they were always there to listen. They were her best friends. They had comforted her whenever she was down.

Yes, they did become rough. They would become impossible to navigate. Every monsoon, Appa would be furious. No work, no money for the next few days, he would shout. But these days were rare. She looked forward to them. For on those days, Appa would spend time with her. The sea was kind.

“He gives, He takes.” Appa had said when Thatha (grandfather) had died. He was refereeing to the Gods. And it was true for the Sea God as well. The tremors on the morning had woken them up. Amma had warned Appa, not to get out that day. But Appa had paid no heed. “New Year is approaching”, he had said. There was a lot of demand. If he didn’t make money now, when would he?

It would not have made a difference if he had stayed. The waves had shown no mercy. The watched as the water receded. And she watched as it bounced back, with unbelievable ferocity. And lapped up their shack. And all their possessions. And Amma. And Anna.

She had seen her best friends –the waves- engulf her universe. She had seen time freeze. 12 years of her life flashed past her. She had been saved by a log that she had clutched. But why? Life ? For what? Death would have been so pleasurable, compared to living… and fighting it out alone. She had aged in the past week. Who would believe that she was just twelve?

Like the sand castles she used to build. There was nothing left. No one. Just the edifice of what was once their home. Now everything looked empty. Forlorn. Everything had been washed away. She could no longer look back. Her memories haunted her. She had heard of the relief work. They had come down to Nagapattinam. Lots of dignitaries too. But no one had come to their hamlet. Who cared for a few dead bodies when there where thousands dead a few hundred miles away. They were forgotten.

She looked ahead, at the sinking sun. It looked so inviting. Full of warmth. It was beckoning her. And she made a step forward, into the waves. And another.

Yes, Amma .. I am coming……

And she disappeared into the watery graveyard.



Based on an incident narrated by an acquaintance. She and her boy friend were planning to enjoy the New Year in Pondicherry (a coastal town in Southern India). En route to Pondicherry, she thought she saw a girl disappear into the water along the East Coast Road (popularly known as ECR)…..She felt sick…. The monetary donation was just not enough.. and it was no time to celebrate….
“I really want to do something to help the affected people besides donating money. ….. its killing me to be sitting comfortably not doing anything.”
They ditched their plan to enjoy the New Year weekend, and are on extended leave…in a remote hamlet without a name….

And they are not alone ….
Refer to the article on rediff:
http://in.rediff.com/news/2005/jan/01techies.htm

Techies dump software, help tsunami-hit


In many quiet ways, everyone is putting his/hr best foot forward. My company (Irevna) decided the match up whatever contribution the employees made to the PM National Relief Fund.
A box where one could make donations in kind suddenly appeared and quietly got filled up…

Visit
http:\\tsunamihelp.blogspot.com A very comprehensive site on the Tsunami

Why I won't help....

Someone's views. Interesting reading.



Tsunami Relief: Why I Will Not Contribute a Dime

I am well placed and I earn well. But I will not contribute a single rupee to benefit the victims of the Tsunami.



Am I selfish? Am I inhuman? Not so at all.



I love my country, and I love my people. And that is why I won’t contribute.



A quick recapitulation of “disasters”:

2004: Tsunami
2001: Bhuj Earthquake
1999: Orissa Cyclone
1993: Latur
1988: Darbhanga
1984: Bhopal


About every 3 years disaster on a massive scale strikes our country. Every time the world wants to donate a few million dollars. Every time the We, the People are jerked into sudden action and we donate our clothes, some food, a few days pay and assume our duty done, and get on with our lives. Every time our dear Government of India resolves to erect disaster warning systems, evacuation procedures and necessary safeguards so that devastation on such massive scales can be avoided. Every time the news moves gradually from the Front Page to the Nation page to the State page to the Editorial where it finally rests and where the intelligentsia wakes up on every anniversary and indulges in some good measure of intellectual masterb*t*on.



Every time our compassion begins with moist eyes and lumpy throats, and quite quickly melts away as our assigned or chosen duty beckons. And perhaps that is how it should be. As they say, life must go on. You cannot weep forever.



But are we not guilty of something somewhere?



And what about our beloved government, what about our media? For them too, must the show continue to go on, the same show? Every time?



Ladies and gentlemen, we are confronted by the worst calamity in recent history. And the story is playing itself to script more than Bollywood films stick to their established formulas. Less than a week down, the news is already the second bullet in the news channels.



People all over the country are suffering severe compassion for the victims and donating generously – New Year will be here tonight and they will party away the sadness.



The magnitude of loss is immeasurable – it runs into millions, and not counting the value of lives lost. But we, children of India Shining, find it below our dignity to accept foreign aid. But we are not ashamed of ourselves that these people who died lived in abject poverty on the margins of existence, living unworthy lives. No, that is okay with us.



Just a digression – just a thought: Are we refusing help from other humans in other countries who feel compassionately for those who died just to prove a point, or is it because foreign aid comes with controls that ensure that the ultimate targets benefit and there is lesser scope for someone distributing those funds to line their pockets?



Years have passed. The victims of the Bhopal gas continue to suffer, Latur still has insufficient water or sanitation, Orissa was never rebuilt, we don’t even know what happened to the Darbhanga victims.



Have you ever considered who are these people who died in all these disasters?



When the earth shakes, shanties collapse sooner. When the waves swallow, the hutments on beaches are swept away.



These people who die are not people like you and me writing and reading emails in air conditioned offices, rooms and halls. They are people who live on the fringe of life. They are the filthy scum who beg outside our rolled up air-conditioned car windows, and are ignored. They are the dirty kids who try to sell sea shells for 5 rupees each, and are shooed away. They are the homeless girls and children who live under the bridges where they sell themselves every night to arrange for the next day’s breakfast.



We, who never questioned our government for not providing food, shelter and opportunity to these people when they lived, are falling over each other to contribute now that they are gone.



You and I are more culpable than our beloved government and we will continue be the worst culprits – till the day we become the victims and are written about.



We are to blame because we forgive the failures of our government and our administration so easily. We are the people who have the collective power to change things, but don’t care to. We are the people who feel the most for our country, but just that – we feel; we do nothing. We are eunuchs (as a figure of speech and nothing against them) who talk, and just that – we don’t act. Lord! We don’t even think it worth our while to vote. It is because of us, that such governments rule us, and fail us. Repeatedly. We are the biggest insult to those who lost their lives and to our own selves.



I resolve not to be party to this insult. I will not give alms to people who deserved and had the right to a meaningful life and a more respectful death. I will not give dole to people who wanted to live with self-respect, but couldn’t. I will not weep for survivors from the family of people who had the right to clean bathrooms and safe water, but who we denied the same when they lived.



I will not donate to comfort my conscience because I know that giving away a day’s salary is no atonement for how I continue to deceive my country, my people, myself. I love my people more than that. I am more human than that. And that is why I will not contribute.



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Additional notes:
KD: I was watching the news on NDTV.
Officials in a village were not giving out the relief material to people without Ration cards!!!
In a Tsunami that wiped out homes and entire families, our official-dom requires people to scavenge for proof of their existence, before they can help them out!!!




A lot is being done. A lot more is pending.

Introduction

Hi All :)

I finally finally decided to discontinue the half a dozen or so blogs that I had created, and concentrate on a new blog.

Krazy thoughts

All the best for 2005

Regards
Kamal/KD