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Journalism of Courage
Our sense of democracy, freedom and justice is amazing and can sometimes border on the hilarious. For one, we go around burning buses and trains, damaging cars and shops and generally bringing cities to a standstill if a garland of shoes is placed on a statue of someone we considered very important to us. We are after all a very emotional lot and when one is emotionally charged, there8217;s no stopping the beast in us on occasion. The amazing thing is that we get away with these public statements of ours, even if we are sometimes captured on candid camera, setting a bus alight, which figures all over the morning newspapers.
Talking of burning trains, we can go on a murderous rampage at any time we wish to, in the name of fighting for the honour of our religion. We also have a good chance of getting away with our crime if we happen to be well-connected persons who choose to shoot people down in nightclubs. Of course, it always helps if we also take the precaution of hiring the best legal talent available to argue our case.
Then, of course, we can always stand for elections and win by handsome margins, even if we have criminal records as long as a mile. Robin Hood, if he had happened to live in the India of today, would have become an elected representative of this country before long. After all, there is always a distinction we scrupulously make between being a criminal and having a criminal charge filed against one. In any case, even if we are thrown into prison we can always rule from its confines and direct our minions outside to do our every bidding.
Yes, and we also enjoy the democratic right to spit wherever and whenever we choose. To spit is our birthright, and we shall do so. In office corridors, subways, on railway platforms and pavement roads. And, regardless of whether we are being chauffeured in a Mercedes or being ferried in a rickshaw, we believe that we should be allowed to treat the road as our personal spittoon.
No wonder they call us the world8217;s largest democracy.
