(Disclaimer - This is a random rumination. Don't go beyond the surface - you will find the silt at the bottom of the pool)
The bitter after-taste of any media exposure lingers.
But as I watch people (some sensible, others not) respond to the event, I try to understand what I feel about an event that has grabbed newspaper headlines, has heralded recognition for the police workforce in India, has allowed regionalism to rear and then cow down its ugly head but mostly, has been the closest brush with that omnipresent tangible in today's world- terror, for my generation.
As a seemingly involved but largely apathetic Indian, 26/11 lulled into me a false sense of patriotism - I pretended to be outraged just like everyone else that jihad had found its way into my backyard, that terrorism was now affecting people I knew and cared about; I laughed at the P3P's making fools of themselves on national television; I felt for the plight of the little orphan Moshe. But I did nothing. I did not raise my voice, I did not stop doing whatever it is I was before 26/11.
One year later, when the entire nation is whipped into a patriotic frenzy that we generally reserve for Indo-Pak cricket matches, I am a little more aware that this is a passing phase for most of us - like it was last year, like it will be next year.
So, does my apathy make me any less of an Indian than the jhanda-carrying-slogan-shouting girl who will be part of that procession in front of the Gateway of India?
We are both echoing our impotence in being able to change anything. She, by being part of a bigger identity, by trying - Me, by hiding my helplessness behind this veneer of complacence that the urban India calls awareness.
I don't know the point of this post - perhaps there is none or perhaps it is an open call - Can we do anything? I know we should and I know that if we know how, we probably will. But can we?
