15 August 2006, the Day of Indian Independence something happened in Gaya district in the State of Bihar that just brought a sense of hatred in me against our media.
Manoj Mishra, a contract driver for the government run Sudha dairy, had tried everything to get his money from officials but in vain. When all the measures failed, he planned an extreme step to mark his protest.
He chose August 15th as the D-Day to mark his protest and the step was to immolate himself in full public view. He informed about his plans to media persons and they saw an opportunity to sensationalize the whole episode and get the much-needed popularity for their news broadcast.
At the designated place and time, he announced that he is going to set himself ablaze. Even the media persons were present to shoot the whole episode. He doused himself with diesel and took out the matchstick.
He lighted the first stick but the breeze put it off and he was informed by the concerned media that his stick has been put off. And he was encouraged to burn the second matchstick. Then he burnt the second stick and set himself on fire. All along, his actions were recorded on camera by all the media persons in different angles to get the best view for its slippery viewers. Not a single media person present there tried to stop him from burning himself or call the police.
By the time he was admitted in the hospital it was very late, he had suffered sixty percent burn injuries. He finally succumbed to death on the same day.
What a pity on Media and our society. Media used to always teach us what a Good Samaritan should do when he comes across such incidents. But when it came to follow what it always preached, it chose business interest over the moral interest. The worst part is that they encouraged him to do what he was doing.
Media even provided him with diesel and matchbox and also informed him when his first matchstick was put off. The interest to feed its viewers with breaking footage of the self-immolation bid made them to forget their moral duty of saving him.
After seeing this episode, I just want to ask ourselves - IS THIS WHAT MEDIA IS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING FOR US AND OUR SOCIETY?
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Young Kid on a Traffic Signal
It was a wet and chilly night in the month of December and I was returning from my work around midnight. Our office cab had to stop at a traffic signal. At that signal I saw something, which I haven’t forgotten even after 10 years.
A young boy aged between 9-10 years was begging on a traffic signal wearing nothing but a worn half-pant. He was shivering heavily due to extremely wet and chilly weather. One could easily guess the severity of the cold by the fact that even though I was sitting fully decked up in warmers and jackets and inside the closed cab, still I was feeling cold.
I wanted to go out and talk to that kid but the cab driver warned me against stepping out. He said if you step out to save the kid from cold, you would risk your life at this hour of night. I still wanted to go ahead and talk to the poor kid but when he pointed out at a dark stretch beside the road, I clearly understood what the driver meant.
I saw cruel looking hefty man standing there and keeping a vigil over the kid. Poor kid, he did not have any other option but to obey his master and beg in the cold risking his young little life.I admit, I was very scared to get out of the cab after seeing that man and decided to leave the kid on his own destiny.
In the meantime traffic light turned green and the cab zipped past the kid. I still was seeing that kid from the hind screen. After a few minutes he disappeared in the distance. But I felt very guilty for being so scared and not helping the kid.
That night I had a tough time sleeping. Whenever I tried to sleep in the warm bed, I remembered the image of the shivering poor kid begging for some money for his darn master in the cold of the midnight.
I was caught in the mixed feeling of guilt and hatred. I felt guilty for not being able to bail that kid out of his suffering and I felt damn hatred for that cruel master who lived on this kid’s hard earned money. I say hard earned because even though he was getting money by begging but to beg this money he was undergoing tremendous amount of suffering and torture.
How could that wretched man have the heart to snatch that money from those tiny little cold palms? These people deserve severest of punishment even harsher than that meted out to a murderer.How could somebody be so heartless to prey on this innocent kid?
I am sure this kid would not be an exception. Thousand of kids all over the world would be suffering in these cruel hands especially in the poverty-ridden regions of the world. These kids’ only sin is that they were born in a poor family and were left to fend for themselves.
Even after six long years that image is still embedded deep inside my heart and mind and I still feel the same amount of guilt as I felt then. I am guilty of not being able to save him from those cruel hands. So, I thought to dedicate this piece of writing to that poor little kid and other similar kids, who would have lost their young lives in one of those cold nights earning money for their cruel masters.
A young boy aged between 9-10 years was begging on a traffic signal wearing nothing but a worn half-pant. He was shivering heavily due to extremely wet and chilly weather. One could easily guess the severity of the cold by the fact that even though I was sitting fully decked up in warmers and jackets and inside the closed cab, still I was feeling cold.
I wanted to go out and talk to that kid but the cab driver warned me against stepping out. He said if you step out to save the kid from cold, you would risk your life at this hour of night. I still wanted to go ahead and talk to the poor kid but when he pointed out at a dark stretch beside the road, I clearly understood what the driver meant.
I saw cruel looking hefty man standing there and keeping a vigil over the kid. Poor kid, he did not have any other option but to obey his master and beg in the cold risking his young little life.I admit, I was very scared to get out of the cab after seeing that man and decided to leave the kid on his own destiny.
In the meantime traffic light turned green and the cab zipped past the kid. I still was seeing that kid from the hind screen. After a few minutes he disappeared in the distance. But I felt very guilty for being so scared and not helping the kid.
That night I had a tough time sleeping. Whenever I tried to sleep in the warm bed, I remembered the image of the shivering poor kid begging for some money for his darn master in the cold of the midnight.
I was caught in the mixed feeling of guilt and hatred. I felt guilty for not being able to bail that kid out of his suffering and I felt damn hatred for that cruel master who lived on this kid’s hard earned money. I say hard earned because even though he was getting money by begging but to beg this money he was undergoing tremendous amount of suffering and torture.
How could that wretched man have the heart to snatch that money from those tiny little cold palms? These people deserve severest of punishment even harsher than that meted out to a murderer.How could somebody be so heartless to prey on this innocent kid?
I am sure this kid would not be an exception. Thousand of kids all over the world would be suffering in these cruel hands especially in the poverty-ridden regions of the world. These kids’ only sin is that they were born in a poor family and were left to fend for themselves.
Even after six long years that image is still embedded deep inside my heart and mind and I still feel the same amount of guilt as I felt then. I am guilty of not being able to save him from those cruel hands. So, I thought to dedicate this piece of writing to that poor little kid and other similar kids, who would have lost their young lives in one of those cold nights earning money for their cruel masters.
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