“It is too much.” Wrote The Excellency, exasperated, angry and irritated. The obedient rookie left her august presence to start the manhunt for the writer.
“The Viceroy’s Nose.
Standing near the Governor General’s Residence now known as Rashtrapati Bhawan at New Delhi was the grand statue of the Viceroy of India. One morning public noticed that some one has chopped off the nose of the Viceroy’s statue. A manhunt was launched by the British Government to find the culprit and also to replace the nose. Nothing bore fruit and the statue was finally dismantled.”
This story titled “The Viceroy’s Nose” was written in Hindi during freedom struggle. It conveyed the message to the public and angered the administration. Its writer was hunted down, caught, persecuted and tortured. With advent of freedom and passage of time, he rose to become an institution in himself, was a guide to many scholars of literature, edited many magazines and was respected by his followers and critics alike for his frank and forthright views. Last year he died at Delhi at the ripe age of 84 years.
A few years back I wrote a Blog titled “A Supari to the Police” which got wide coverage and was reproduced by many bloggers. Many readers said that the time is fast approaching when we may call police officers as Inspector Bhai, ACP Bhai, DCP Bhai, Commissioner Bhai; Bhai being a form of address for an underworld Mafia Don.
In the year 2006 I saw my Blog on the table of one of the police officers. It was not placed there to investigate the truth or otherwise of the facts written in the article. It had been given to the police to create a hostile atmosphere against me, with the specific message that I am trying to lower their image in the public with such writings, and to serve a specific purpose; that is to create hatred and enmity towards me. Policemen are also human beings. The manipulation had its effect. The policemen were not comfortable with me any more; they felt irritated and grinded their teeth on me. I understand the signal. They intended to chew me off at the first available opportunity.
Having created such a hostile atmosphere for me, the Manipulative Crook Shri Chandrashekhar Gadge sent the Pakistani refugee Shri Krishnagopal Khiwani to the Police Lord the then Mumbai Police Joint C.P. Mrs Meeran Borwankar, to hit when the iron is hot. Shri K.G. Khiwani was angry that some one has dared to publish a profile of his daughter at some matrimonial site. He named me as the culprit and demanded immediate police action against me.
The history was being repeated.
“It is too much…..” – wrote Joint Commissioner of Police Mrs Meeran Borwankar in anger, irritation and exasperation.
Shri K.G. Khiwani was encouraged. He started shouting at the lower rung police personnel and demanded immediate action against me. The police inspectors were exhausted, angry and harassed. One of their prisoners had run away and they had no clue of his plans or whereabouts. Their minds were immobilized, under tension and full of chaos. And now this pressure by Papa Khiwani. They saw an outlet to vent their feelings. This writer must be taught a lesson. How dare he write about the police or publish the Tiya Khiwani’s profile for marriage?
No thought was given to the obvious social and family satire.
Shri K.G. Khiwani in his late seventies had failed in his primary duty as a parent. The 3 duties of a parent as per our scriptures are; one, to produce children, two, to give them a good environment and upbringing and three, to marry them off. His eldest daughter spent her childhood with maid servants and picked up their lowly habits, language and abuses. When she grew up, no one came up to ask for her hands and the parents could not marry her off to any suitable boy in their own community or any other community. It was left upon her to find her own husband. She married but her father had no role in arranging her marriage. When she wanted to re-marry, her father had no role again. It was she and she alone who was trying to get married herself. She posted her profile on different internet sites, approached many marriage bureaus, agents and others. I have seen one of her old profiles quite recently at some matrimony site. She alleges that she met me through one of those profiles, rejected me but I am still harassing her to marry me. Needless to say that her allegations are false.
But here, Shri K.G. Khiwani was shouting on top of his voice that I got his daughter’s profile published so that others can marry her.
Now, only one of them could be true. Either she is right or her father is. Both can’t be right at the same time.
But there is another comic angle to the situation. It is not a crime in India to help any female aged 18 years or more, to get married. Lakhs of people all over India talk about girls of marriageable age, circulate their bio-data, horoscopes, pictures and cover miles to mediate, help, donate or otherwise assist in a daughter’s marriage. Assisting in “Kanya Vivah (daughter’s marriage)” is considered a “Punya Karya (sacred duty)” in our social structure. It is not a criminal act.
Shri K.G. Khiwani had failed in his primary duty to marry off his daughter. Any one else trying it is a slap on his old face and he has been told by Shri Chandrashekhar Gadge that it is an insult too. For right effects, an internet copy had been handed over to him with specific instructions to create scenes. Instigated and angry, he kept on shouting for action against the culprit.
Policemen are experts in fabricating false cases on trumped up charges on imaginary grounds. They decided that the best course of action is to put the culprit behind bars by hook or by crook, little realising that jails do not stop writers. Many writers the world over have written their best books in jail. Thus, knowingly or unknowingly, the police took a Supari for me. The course of action was to brand me a criminal and then put me behind bars or eliminate me. The plan was to be executed ruthlessly and with fineness.
Shri Chandrashekhar Shyamrao Gadge bought off dishonest officials and manipulated honest ones. He wanted my head at any cost. Sooner than later, this piece of writing shall also reach poisonable ears to create further intolerance towards me who would see my efforts to find solutions to mutual personal problem as law and order problem or criminal offences. Being colour blind they will see only what is shown to them and nothing else. Any lead given by me could be dismissed and won’t be allowed to be investigated. I shall be left to prove my innocence in Honourable Courts, if left alive.
Ms Tiya Khiwani kept on fuming on being exposed of her lies and on being shown the mirror up her face. Her father Shri K.G. Khiwani lost his mental balance on realising his follies and inept failure as a parent at this old age. None of them tolerate truth or accept it as satirical humourous fiction because that requires high mental caliber and maturity which is sadly lacking in each one of them. They are small time cheapies.
I watched all the drama unfolding before my eyes. I have seen the naked hatred, anger, frustration and failure writ large over their faces. I have seen similar hatred on the faces of warring communities in communal riots across the country be it Meerut, Delhi, Saharanpur, Punjab, J&K, Assam, Bengal or Mumbai Riots, etc. It’s a no win situation for any community or group of people or individuals. It is not a sign of success in any war and victory would be ever elusive to them.
One of my old friend producer-director Shri Tanvir Ahmad was hounded by Shri Anand Swaroop, the then powerful Maharashtra Cultural Secretary and Chairman Film City, now on suspension and facing corruption charges. He retaliated in full force by making a movie. I asked him; why? He said; “I am a creative person. When I am angry, harassed and hurt; I will create the scene on celluloid. I can not behave as a Goonda because I am not, let others think that I am, but I am not.” With cinematic effect, he added; “When time comes, you will also do the same; you are a creative person; you will not behave as a Goonda even if others say so; you will write, write and write.”
I feel the power of the Creator in my writings. It burns. It scares. It moves. It is thrilling. I enjoy being near the Creator. I see God’s creativity in the flow of the words I write. My physical presence at a particular spot is of no consequence to me because I am with God.
Shri K.G. Khiwani danced in anger and frustration. He is not Lord Shiv doing Tandav Nritya. He is not righteous. He is not a devotee. He is not devoted. He did not sense that I am a critic, not his enemy. Having slept with his daughter, I am also his son in law. If he accepts this simple truth, he will be out of the injurious clutches of Shri C.S. Gadge, shall talk to me on one to one basis, sort out the mutual distrust and problems arising due to it and then and only then his own, his daughter’s and his family’s woes will be over for ever.
Of course, Shri C.S. Gadge would not like peace to prevail in our lives because it reduces their dependability upon him and his importance is reduced and therefore he would keep on igniting fire. My luv would not like any of her well wisher to talk to me for fear of exposure of her lies. She would rather burn inside than let me be heard. Her family’s unconcern would make them restless. They all would suffer because they consider themselves superior to our destiny maker almighty God. I have great faith in the mercy of the Lord and would rather wait for a miracle to take place.