A rare kind of account, where words in reciprocity simply fail. Damn the identities bulit around hate, lies and fictions!
Shahina KK wrote: > Dear friends, > I know this is a belated post. Infact I was taking time to shrugg off the > bewilderment,anguish and scare through which I had been passing for the last > three weeks.The article I wrote in the hoot.org caused me trouble and > trouble only.I hope some of you might have been aware of that.In the > following article-*SHIVER� DOWN THE SPINE-* I am trying to summarise the > whole episode. > Hindustan Thimes on today has carried a trimmed version of this article > under the title 'Your Religion follows You'. > http://www.hindustantimes.com/StoryPage/StoryPage.aspx?sectionName=HomePage&id=058115bf-d511-4308-9738-fb8c6e88843c&&Headline=%e2%80%98Your+religion+follows+you%e2%80%99 > > Shahina > > *SHIVER� DOWN THE SPINE* > > * **My tryst with the e-messengers of terror* > > * * > > *Shahina K K* > > > > Since14th September 2008, writing has become a laborious exercise for me. It > was all of a sudden that words turned heavy, staring at my own convictions, > political thinking and journalistic vigor. It was on a gloomy Sunday (the > day after the bloody Saturday on which the life of twenty odd people had > been taken away by some body called Indian Mujahideen)that things turned > upside down. It's difficult to describe my terrible sense of shock when it > came to my notice that a part of the email sent by perpetrators of the Delhi > blasts laying claim to the deadly bombs on the day, had been written by me! > It was lifted verbatim from a piece of mine (*Bombs defused in News rooms*) > which appeared in the media watch dog portal,* The Hoot*. Newspapers had > given extensive quotes wondering at the 'journalistic character' and > 'impeccable English' of those who prepared the mail. Even when everybody > calls it plagiarism I was not spared because my name carries the identity of > a community which is put in the dock for all that happens dreadfully around > us. I wrote about what the media does, how it deals with the unending > episodes of terror strikes juxtaposing with the violence by Hindu extremists > and how flagrantly they fail in the 'balancing' act! > > > > A published material is neither mine nor yours. Plagiarism in cyber space is > not a rare phenomenon. There are limited options to check it. I am not very > serious about plagiarism be cause I am skeptical about how far we are the > masters of our own words. I personally believe that what I wrote is not only > mine. It was reproduced by other websites and several bloggers .It is > exciting to watch the cyber movement challenging the dogmatization of > knowledge. I don't subscribe to the concept of copyright too. But I never > thought of being caught up in a deep sense of anguish, terror and shock by > some one else picking up my words for the manifestation of a heinous crime. > It came to my notice that Sunday evening, while I was perusing *Times of > India* looking for stories missed in the morning. One story on the terror > e-mail had extensively quoted the lifted portion from my article analyzing > how the extremist forces make a common cause with other victims of 'Sangh > terror' -- Christians and Dalits. '*The idea of a broad coalition of all > minorities and Dalits in a broad anti-Hindutva coalition is not new, but its > use amid clear signs of unease within Muslims about the radicalisation of > sections within it is immensely interesting."* says *The Times of India.* > > > > The *Times'* story prompted me to go online in search of the full text of > the terror mail and shockingly I found more than a paragraph of my article > had been copied and pasted. It's beyond words how I survived those moments > of scare, insecurity and a deep sense of guilt. We were all 'alone' at home, > in that entire residential area, nobody knows us. We all are living in this > metro not knowing what kind of a life is there at the next door. I was in a > state of numbness incapable of picking up the phone and calling somebody. My > partner Rajeev did the same with a shivering heart. Our friends initially > responded as if it is nothing but rather a minor crime of plagiarism that we > need not worry about further. In fact as they explained later, they had been > trying to shrug off the acerbic realization that what we call terrorism is > some where very near our doorstep. > > > > However their arrival at my place was followed by a call from Sevanti Ninan, > the columnist who edits The Hoot. Even though it was not unexpected, I had > felt a tremor while being informed of the enquiry by the Maharashtra Anti > Terror Squad about me. They contacted Sevanti and she told me that it was > impossible to hold back whatever information they wanted about me. I too > never wanted her to keep me in hiding. Why should I be? The life I lived was > not a private affair at all. I had been constantly there in the public space > with my stories, television appearances and interventions in social > discourses. It was very much tangible when I was in Kerala, but living in a > metro stricken with terror, it was altogether a different ball game. Here > even my name matters. The heaviness of a Muslim name could make life > miserable in Delhi. No matter whether you follow religion, religion will > definitely follow you. > > > > After a night of tossing and turning, one of our journalist friends took it > on himself to unfold the tangle in which I had been caught up. Along with > him I contacted the Defence Minister, met the MoS for External affairs and > Home affairs. They, except the MoS for Home affairs, know me in person as I > had been active in Malayalam language journalism for over a decade. They > might be well aware that religious extremism will be the last thing I could > be booked on! Our attempt was not to avoid an enquiry, but to ensure that I > would not be targeted because of my name. > > > > Even after a couple of weeks passed, I think I am not out of woods. I have > been waiting for the boot steps at my door any time. My friends say the > investigators might have been monitoring my cyber activities and telephone > calls. It is hard to live knowing that you are under surveillance. For the > last two weeks we had been in touch with several of the authorities to > clarify my position on the whole episode. One of the top officials we met > during the course of this, a gentleman who amazed us with his extremely > polite manner, asked, So, you're a Muslim?" I wanted to respond with a big > *NO,* and to shout from the roof top that I am agnostic, kept away from the > clutches of religion even from my teens. But I couldn't. I gave him no > answer. I was skeptical about the political correctness of such an answer > through out my life. Am I doing wrong by turning my back on the millions of > innocent people who follow religion, bearing the brunt of what ever have > been done in the name of religion? My partner who is, by birth a Hindu had > been cajoled to claim the same in front of that officer, in order to prove > our secular credentials in a city where we are nothing more than names. It > was for the first time, religion intruded into our life together. We had not > hesitated even fraction of a second to leave the column for religion blank > in the birth registration form when our son, Anpu, was born. > > > > I was caught up again in another round of bewilderment, shock and grief next > day when I went to meet Brinda Karat MP at AKG Bhavan with one of our > journalist friends. While waiting in the reception, a heartbreaking cry fell > upon my ears. Four or five women appeared at the door shouting and crying > loudly. The whole scene rang no bell for me, but I saw Brinda rushing out, > hugging those women and listening to them. Somebody told me that they are > the remaining desperate souls from a family of which 9 people had been > killed in the blast. Those women were lamenting their plight in which they > had been forced to bribe even for a decent burial for their beloved ones. I > was scared. I wish they would not see me! I was again blanketed by a > terrible sense of distress. My vision was blurred off in tears; I couldn't > speak a word, my voice strangled in my throat. In such moments of emotional > turbulence the rationale of political thinking may not help. > > > > Many of my friends who shared the sleepless nights with me thought of > writing about the entire trauma of an identity and its subjectivity, but > they were skeptical about the ramifications of such an act in my life. One > of my friends sharing the deep anguish, posted in his blog, a single liner- > *Shiver, down the spine.* No comments have been posted yet, because the > readers of his blog are left with no other clue. Now I think it is high time > to speak up. I don't want to grow a censor within me. --~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~ You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Green Youth Movement" group. 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