[Reader-list] Conflict versus Violence

[Stevphen Shukaitis]

Well it's not quite that simple. Emergency services in the US can be just
as racist and amazingly incompetent /  non-existent as that too. When
Public Enemy wrote the song "911 is a Joke" it reflected wide spread views
about this very ineptness. Not to mention that in many rural areas the
distance from where people live to the nearest hospital can be quite
great. And if the homeless person manages to get to a hospital often times
they are (illegally) refused treatment or end up in overcrowded,
understaffed, and underfunded facility.

Anyways, point is that it's just not that simple and it's not like when
one calls 911 is the US this just work. often times they don't work very
well at all.

cheers
stevphen


> If I were in US, I would have just called 911 and the police/ambulance
> would come and help the person. In india, I can't do the same. police
> doesnt care about the homeless, nor does police care about a dead cow.
> So the other option is I can get personally involved.. rent a cab and
> take them to the hospital. foot all the bills. and spend the entire
> day on it.
> That would be fine.. if this sort of incident was rare. however there
> are thousands of such cases.
> I want to help. I just don't know how to. giving the begger money does
> not help them at all.
> any other ideas?
> -yogi
>
>
> On 6/19/06, zainab at xtdnet.nl <zainab at xtdnet.nl> wrote:
>>
>> 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
>>
>>
> _________________________________________
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-- 
Stevphen Shukaitis
Autonomedia Editorial Collective
http://www.autonomedia.org
http://slash.interactivist.net

"Autonomy is not a fixed, essential state. Like gender, autonomy is
created through its performance, by doing/becoming; it is a political
practice. To become autonomous is to refuse authoritarian and compulsory
cultures of separation and hierarchy through embodied practices of
welcoming difference . . . Becoming autonomous is a political position for
it thwarts the exclusions of proprietary knowledge and jealous hoarding of
resources, and replaces the social and economic hierarchies on which these
depend with a politics of skill exchange, welcome, and collaboration.
Freely sharing these with others creates a common wealth of knowledge and
power that subverts the domination and hegemony of the master’s rule."
-subRosa Collective