[Reader-list] Conflict versus Violence

[zainab at xtdnet.nl]

Hi Yogi,
Thanks for writing in. I wonder what gets us to react in ways that you did
on Sunday night, I did last night and the crowd did when the cow went
giddy? Is it only apathy? Or is it the fear of getting too involved?
Regards,
Zainab


> I was yesterday walking in connaught place. I walked passed a a young
> dark colored woman, sitting in a corner with her head down and
> completely motionless.
> In front of her on the ground was a small baby completely naked and
> again motionless.
> There were a few one rupee coins scattered around the baby.
> I tried not to pay attention and got into a restaurant and had some
> food and drinks and completely forgot about the woman and the child.
> After a few hours, as i was walking back to my car, I again saw the
> woman with her face down completely motionless, and in front of her
> was her baby still naked and still motionless. and the coins
> untouched. was she dead? was her baby dead? i don't know. I wanted to
> help but I didn't know how to help, or was afraid to help.
> (cowardness, guilt, disgust)
>
> -yogi
>
> On 6/18/06, zainab at xtdnet.nl <zainab at xtdnet.nl> wrote:
>> Sometimes just a scene gets you to write.
>>
>> I write 

>>
>> This evening I was walking past the bus stop to get to home. On the
>> outsides of Byculla market is a garbage dump. About four to five cows
>> are
>> always hovering around the dump, getting some grub (just as much as some
>> urchins hover around the dump for their daily bread and possibly a bit
>> of
>> butter).
>>
>> It was about 9 PM. I saw one of the cows upturned. She was on her back,
>> her four feet crouched onto her stomach. I could not understand what was
>> happening to her. I wondered whether she was suffering from a terrible
>> stomachache. She rolled to the sides, then attempted to get up. As she
>> got
>> up, she tottered on her feet, clamoured, tottered, and then fell
>> sideways.
>> Another cow, brown in colour, standing by her started to move into the
>> space left open by the small crowd, looking at the bystanders (many of
>> who
>> had collected by then out of curiosity and some waiting for their bus to
>> arrive). The brown cow stared into the crowd, as if asking for help. A
>> man
>> on a cycle shouted out, 'pour some water onto her. She is giddy'. He
>> went
>> on to say how the cows are not fed and made to do a lot of work which is
>> why this one had gotten giddy. Meanwhile, the cow continued to get up,
>> totter, and fall. The condition of this cow was pathetic. I am almost
>> feeling helpless as I write because these futile words are just unable
>> describe the visual I have witnessed.
>>
>> Tottered, stood, wavered, tottered, fell.
>> Tottered, stood, wavered, tottered, clamoured, fell.
>> Tottered, stood, wavered, tottered, clamoured, stood, fell.
>>
>> The man on the cycle continued, 'everyone is standing, staring at her.
>> No
>> one is coming to her rescue. She may just go mad and hit out at the
>> crowd.' All the bystanders were feeling something – some felt pity, some
>> expressed sympathy, but no one came forward. I got frightened. The word
>> VIOLENCE rang into my head as I witnessed this all. I wondered when the
>> cow would go mad and lash out at the crowd. Meanwhile, I almost felt as
>> if
>> the brown cow was advancing towards me. I quickly decided to move away
>> and
>> head back home.
>>
>> (Frightened
>> Vulnerable
>> Ashamed
>> Guilty)
>>
>>
>> I feel indifferent these days. I walk around the city as if I were numb.
>> There are times when I get aggressive. I wonder whether I will also feel
>> giddy, totter, waver, stand and then fall ...
>>
>>
>> CUT TO BANGALORE
>>
>> The autorickshaw was standing at the signal of Forum Mall at
>> Koramangala.
>> A dark girl was selling cotton ear buds. I looked at her as she moved
>> around. She was as beautiful as a doll. I felt a strong sense of
>> affection
>> towards her. I decided that if she were to come by me, I will buy the
>> cotton buds. And she came by me.
>> Ten rupees, she said.
>> I brought out the coins from my purse and gave it to her.
>> Ten rupees, she said.
>> Ten rupees, I said, counting out the coins to her.
>> Ten rupees, she said again.
>> Ten rupees, what the hell, I said to myself, until I quickly realized
>> that
>> for her, ten rupees meant a ten rupee note. She could not count. She
>> could
>> not decipher. I fished for a ten rupee note and gave it to her. She
>> smiled
>> and handed out a packet of ear buds to me.
>> I went back home that evening and narrated the story to Nick. He looked
>> at
>> the cotton buds and said to me,
>> Careful, these are risky. The cotton can just come off and the plastic
>> can
>> hit your ear drum and cause damage.
>> As I lay in the bed that night, I wondered how it would feel for the
>> plastic to hit my ear drum and I go deaf. DEAF! How I wish I were deaf!
>> Life would perhaps be easier then. I would not be able to listen.
>> I would not be able to listen to the screams of apathy.
>> I would not be able to listen to the screeching silences.
>> I would not be able to listen to things not spoken, but definite.
>> DEAF, I wish I were.
>>
>> (Coward
>> Vulnerable
>> Fragile
>> Guilty)
>>
>> CUT TO BANGALORE PUBLIC TRANSPORT
>>
>> Where else do you get the flavour of the city but for its public
>> transport! I started to do a jaunt on the Bangalore buses. The lines of
>> gender division are clear in here. The front portion of the bus is for
>> the
>> women, the rear for the men. On my first trip on the BMTC bus, I
>> happened
>> to get pushed to the rear side when a man, himself squashed, said to me
>> in
>> Kannada to move ahead because that's the place for women.
>>
>> The ladies section was crowded to the core. 'Solpa solpa,' 'little,
>> little', they kept saying. Little to me implied space, just a little
>> space, push a bit, shove a bit, twitch a bit, solpa, solpa, little,
>> little.
>>
>> I now equate solpa, solpa to mean space, a little space. And I think
>> that's where my city and Bangalore city are positioned today, positioned
>> at solpa, solpa, a little space – inch, centimeter, millimeter, solpa,
>> solpa. The city has been a space of conflict, everyone fighting for
>> territory, space and economic holding. There will definitely be no
>> situation where there is no conflict. I notice conflict in Bombay's
>> local
>> trains and there will always be. Women fight for water at the standposts
>> and there is conflict but violence happens when access is denied, when
>> the
>> space, solpa, solpa, becomes difficult to reach to. There is no question
>> for adjust maadi then. And I guess this is what is happening in our
>> cities
>> today. The conflict seems to have escalated and is assuming proportions
>> of
>> violence. The space for 'adjust maadi' is getting scarce as we stand on
>> the edges, the brinks of precarity where violence is absolutely
>> imminent.
>> A little spark and the next thing I know will be
>> Tottering, standing, wavering, tottering, falling.
>>
>> As I write the above words, the transition that I see from conflict to
>> violence, it will seem like I am talking of a prophetic doom, as if
>> violence were imminent and the futures of our cities have been already
>> written. But I must reassert that our futures are not written so
>> completely. Today I feel angry, apathetic, dejected, pessimistic, but at
>> every moment, some spaces get carved out, some stories get enacted on
>> the
>> stage of the urban and the script just gets altered. The drama is
>> upturned, four feet crouched on the stomach.
>>
>> THE END.
>>
>> Claimer: I hereby take responsibility for the above words which may
>> appear
>> patronizing, emerging out of a sense of guilt, disregarding
>> anthropological positions of subject, object, practice, induction, etc.
>> Rubbishing every theory, I call this state of mind, state of being!
>>
>>
>>
>> Zainab Bawa
>> Bombay
>> www.xanga.com/CityBytes
>> http://crimsonfeet.recut.org/rubrique53.html
>>
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>


Zainab Bawa
Bombay
www.xanga.com/CityBytes
http://crimsonfeet.recut.org/rubrique53.html