Utopia page 45: Three stars to separate thought processes
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- Bu səhifədəki naviqasiya:
- “I’ll be with you in a moment, Rebecca!”
“No. 82Principles of International Law Recognized in the Charter of the Nuremberg Tribunal and in the Judgment of the Tribunal. Adopted by the International Law Commission of the United Nations, 1950. Introductory note: Under General Assembly Resolution 177 (II), paragraph (a), the International Law Commission was directed to "formulate the principles of international law recognized in the Charter of the Nuremberg Tribunal and in the judgment of the Tribunal." In the course of the consideration of this subject, the question arose as to whether or not the Commission should ascertain to what extent the principles contained in the Charter and judgment constituted principles of international law. The conclusion was that since the Nuremberg Principles had been affirmed by the General Assembly, the task entrusted to the Commission was not to express any appreciation of these principles as principles of international law but merely to formulate them. The text below was adopted by the Commission at its second session. The Report of the Commission also contains commentaries on the principles (see Yearbook of the Intemational Law Commission, 1950, Vol. II, pp. 374-378). Authentic text: English Text published in Report of the International Law Commission Covering its Second Session, 5 June-29 July 1950, Document A/1316, pp. 11-14. Principle I Any person who commits an act which constitutes a crime under international law is responsible therefore and liable to punishment. Principle II The fact that internal law does not impose a penalty for an act which constitutes a crime under international law does not relieve the person who committed the act from responsibility under international law. Principle III The fact that a person who committed an act which constitutes a crime under international law acted as Head of State or responsible Government official does not relieve him from responsibility under international law. Principle IV The fact that a person acted pursuant to order of his Government or of a superior does not relieve him from responsibility under international law, provided a moral choice was in fact possible to him. Principle V Any person charged with a crime under international law has the right to a fair trial on the facts and law. Principle Vl The crimes hereinafter set out are punishable as crimes under; international law:
Principle VII Complicity in the commission of a crime against peace, a war crime, or a crime against humanity as set forth in Principles VI is “a crime under international law.” ***** Both Leah and Brigitte have read Freud’s “Interpretation of Dreams” and they are both determined and keen to interpret well. After all, they are the children of a “Free Peace Loving Nation” speaking! AN ISLAND SINKS “That sinking feeling…ask me how it all felt at that moment!” “The eerie feeling that one day our beautiful island nation would sink into the ocean, known worldwide for media images of countless men and women sunbathing on the beaches as the waves washed away at the roots of palm trees…is here to stay.” “Represents a sharp failure on the part of climate policies worldwide!” The third, another woman angrily retorted. They were speaking in an interview telecast live from Auckland, New Zealand where every former citizen of that once beautiful South Pacific island nation now lived. ***** “Wake up, Haas.” “We have to leave immediately.” It was around 12:00 am TVT when residents of Tulugati, a small country in the South Pacific Ocean were woken up to the sound of blaring sirens and a red alert broadcast over the radio by the Sheriff of Tulugati City that the city was sinking into the ocean when a powerful tidal wave had bombarded the protective walls breaking down the light house, rupturing all telephone lines and causing immense destruction. The Sheriff had now flown in a team of climate crisis experts from neighboring New Zealand to help evacuate residents. “But Mommy, I’m sleepy!” The little boy was in the midst of a deep slumber. “Haas…Haas, my son wake up. Go wash your face and get dressed quickly. We have no time.” “Are we going to meet Santa?” “Ugh!” “Yes!” “Santa will be coming to fetch us. Santa and Rudolph are on their way here.” The little boy of five immediately woke up and got dressed. Rachel packed their belongings into a luggage, and tightened the drivers’ seat belt and the rear seat belt where Haas was stretching. She pulled the shutters up and drove to the Sheriff’s Headquarters. *****
“Hey Rachel…good to see you.” “And how are you, Haas?” “Sheriff Uncle, Mommy said that Santa would be visiting us.” That raw innocence, so very characteristic of a five-year-old, enquired. “Dr. Gardner!” Rachel could hear someone calling out to her from behind. “Dr. Gardner!” “Looks like we have a problem here.” “It seems Fiji has been hit by a huge earthquake measuring 7.1 on the Richter scale!” “Besides, one of our neighboring islands, Timu has reported some huge seismic activity.” “And you might be interested in seeing this…the tidal waves have got bigger and more powerful, in fact all the lines have ruptured…I was trying to call you to have Haas and you leave the place immediately, but in vain!” “Thanks, Sheriff…now we can have Haas play on my workstation in that room there…while we try to get to the roots of the problem.” “It would require an enormous amount of action and ingenuity on the part of the team, you know.” “And courage too…it seems Tulugati is below normal sea levels.” Sheriff Ron Tuvu reported. “O my God!” “Sheriff, we ought to inform all residents immediately!” “Otherwise, the results could be catastrophic for us.” “Well, we have reports coming in this time that about 15 people living around the northern tip have been killed already added to the light house personnel.” “But Sheriff, why have we remain so tight-lipped on the matter?” “Why was I informed so late?” “As the Chief Climate Scientist around here, I had every right to be informed earlier!” Rachel Gardner was clearly anxious, if not overriding. Mean while, a huge creature the length of a small car, was making its way out of the central water doorway into the workstation where little Haas was playing… *****
Reports through wireless networks were now pouring in from Japan and various other parts of the world about Tulugati, a small country in the South Pacific Ocean known worldwide for images in the media of waves washing away at the roots of palm trees on its beaches as being a tragedy of an island nation sinking into the sea and synonymous with being a victim of global warming. On the other hand, residents, particularly those that were either skeptics of global warming or not sensitized enough, claimed at that precarious moment that "Tulugati was not sinking, but even if it was sinking, it was not because of global warming." The Chief Executive of Japan Foundation for Sustainability (JFS), Junko Tabei, who actually visited the site after the disaster, reported that a scale of devastation “unparalleled in the history of the world” would have seriously endangered the lives of Tulu residents had they not being evacuated in time, thanks to an informed decision-making on the part of one brave lady, Chief Climate Scientist Dr. Rachel Gardner. "Nikkei Ecology," a Japanese magazine covering topics of business and the environment further published a report on the issue. ***** “That sinking feeling…global warning if at all, rising seas, massive devastation…though largely ecological and not human, represented a sharp failure of policy…” Dr. Gardner was giving an interview to the media. “I still remember that day…and that horrifying feeling!” Rachel broke down in front of press reporters. “Could you tell us what happened please?” “Yes!” “I mean yes!” *****
“Tulugati has never interested anyone, sinking or not.” Rachel started. “Ask me how I felt when a strange creature emerged from behind the central workstation and attacked my son, Haas!” “I guess that with the rise in sea levels, many sea creatures may have been washed affront. One such creature crept up from behind the central workstation that was connected to the ocean to not only gobble up a few of my assistants that were working there but also attack my little Haas who I had left in the other room during the period we were trying to prevent the emergency gates from collapsing against the force of the tidal waves.” “Fortunately, before the creature could pull Haas away, someone informed me and using the powerful gun I had on me, I killed that horrible thing…!” “Tulugati is now a forgotten story, thanks to the strange powerlessness imposed on us by globalization. While the more powerful nations bask in unrestricted luxury and extravagance so very characteristic of them, a powerless, tiny nation in the South Pacific sinks into the sea as a direct or indirect result of the carelessness of the rich world…” Rachel was giving a statement to the press. “Climate change is a fact and unstoppable. The eternal deniers are living on a different planet. Good luck to them. But the Tulugati story promotion by the so-called “green organizations” does not influence the powerful. If we want to do something against climate change we must tell the people about its devastating effects. People must understand that climate change is a result of the overshoot of economic activity and population that economic growth is speeding up greenhouse gas emissions and resource depletion. Not climate change but overshoot is the basic problem that is going to kill humanity.” “We were such a peace loving nation until…” “Please would you go on, Dr. Gardner?” “The full moon night of Christmas eve, 2021 A.D.” “Most residents were getting ready for Christmas while Haas and I were in the middle of a deep slumber when the Sheriff called up. It seemed a powerful king tide, which could raise the sea level higher than a normal high tide had been reported from the Northern tip of the island, destroying the lighthouse, killing a few people and rupturing all phone lines…” “However, we had a powerful wireless connectivity system that would only be unique to a former nation as tiny as ours and Sheriff had just about managed to contact me. Taking Haas with me, I rushed to office. Sheriff had called in climate crisis experts from nearby New Zealand. Then suddenly we discovered that we could hold on no more…” Rachel continued. “As a red alert was sounded and the sirens blared, residents got panicky. Soon, the central office had curious residents pouring in from all corners of the island, and the building became overcrowded...” Rachel continued. “The water gates were flooded, and many sea creatures were washed on to the workstation. One of these, something between a tiger shark and a killer whale, actually emerged from beneath the workstation and attacked Haas…” Rachel added. “It took me a while before I could locate my gun and manage to kill that horrible creature.” “But we actually lost some of our colleagues who were trying to save Haas in the process.” “Could you tell us a bit about Tulugati, Dr. Gardner?” “Tulugati, the nation that sunk, was also known as Aerobe Islands in the remote past. We were a nation of peace loving people who relied mostly on foreign aid. At the Climate Change Conference in Denmark, I had clearly indicated that the G-77 must cut its CO2 emissions by half in order for the less powerful nations to survive the adverse consequences of global warming. But the Americans were not listening. The French were not listening. And neither were the Germans. It was the Belgian representative, Ms Michele LaMotte who suggested that everyone, including the United States should adhere to the Kyoto Protocol…” “Had it not been for our neighbor, New Zealand that had sent in a chain of helicopters and a special airplane, we would not have managed to evacuate the remaining 1000 people on the island. As the Sheriff and I with Haas, the last people to board the airplane left for nearby New Zealand (with some leaving for Fiji), our beloved island nation…” “Yes, Dr. Gardner?” “Got submerged entirely.” “Anything about why this might have happened?” “Quite obviously, global warming.” “Tulugati had very poor land and the soil was hardly usable for agriculture. Drinking water was mostly obtained from rainwater collected on roofs and stored in tanks; these systems were often poorly maintained, resulting in lack of water. We had no waste recycling system besides. We had westerly gales and heavy rain from November to March and tropical temperatures moderated by easterly winds from April to October.” “Frequent seismic activity in the region; an overshoot of man-made livelihood activities…coupled with globalization and a lack of adherence to Kyoto resulting in an inability to cut down greenhouse gas emissions may have been the primary cause. The result, an entire nation got completely submerged.” “Really, the lives of the poor and the powerless don’t matter these days!” One spectator commented. “Al right, lights off!” Said the show producer. “O, my God, what a reality show.” ***** Dr. Rachel Gardner is no more now. She passed away at the age of 91. The Rachel Gardner Foundation with its headquarters in the city of Auckland, New Zealand now supports and protects the rights and welfare of all residents of former Tulugati, considered the world over as an example of the catastrophic consequences of greenhouse gas emissions, non-sustainable livelihood activities and the global poverty cycle. These are the victims of globalization, now also called the “Children of a Lost Island”… ***** Dr. Gardner is now survived by Haas Gardner and his wife Alicia Sutherland Gardner who have between them a son, Nathan and a daughter, Heather who are both in high school. Nathan loves Broccoli and crab salad while his sister loves fried clams, oysters and shrimp salad… It is but inevitable they should (love crabs and shrimps). After all, while Daddy and Mommy are running the Foundation in Auckland, New Zealand and Suva, the capital of Fiji respectively, the children should be listening to bed time stories from the skies from their late Grandmother, who bravely gobbled up the monster… Just in time, if you will!!! APARTHEID (COLOR OF SKIN) Jasmine and Rebecca were best of friends. Everything was fine in their lives; both teenagers had a beautiful friendship that had emerged while working on a painting to honor a classmate who had been killed in random firing during the process of vandalization of the home of a black family known to them both, but that is where the trouble started… Because there was a difference, a fundamental one, Jasmine was Black and Rebecca was White in a predominantly White Racist Regime… This is where our story begins. ***** South Africa is a nation blessed with abundant natural resources including fertile farmlands and unique mineral resources. Her mines are world famous in the production of diamonds and gold. South Africa has mild climate, reportedly resembling the San Francisco bay area weather more than anywhere in the world. South Africa was colonized by the English and Dutch in the seventeenth century. Out of English domination of the Boers or Afrikaners emerged the Dutch colonies of Orange Free State and Transvaal. Following the Boer War and freedom from England, the Afrikaner National Party was able to gain a strong majority. It was this party that invented apartheid as a means to cement their control over the economic and social system. Initially, their primary objective was to maintain white domination while extending racial separation. Starting in the 60's, a plan of ``Grand Apartheid'' was executed, emphasizing territorial separation and police repression. With the enactment of apartheid laws in 1948, racial discrimination was institutionalized. Race laws were enacted, including a prohibition of marriage between non-whites and whites, and the sanctioning of ``white-only'' jobs. In 1950, the Population Registration Act required that all South Africans be racially classified into one of three categories: white, black (African), or colored (mixed). The colored category included major subgroups of Indians and Asians. The Department of Home Affairs (a government bureau) was responsible for the classification of citizens. Non-compliance with the race laws were dealt with harshly. All blacks were required to carry ``pass books'' containing fingerprints, photo and information on access to non-black areas. In 1951, the Bantu Authorities Act established a basis for ethnic government in African reserves, known as ``homelands'' which meant the loss of citizenship in South Africa and any right of involvement with the South African Parliament which held complete hegemony over the homelands. Nevertheless, Africans living in the homelands needed passports to enter South Africa: they were aliens in their own country. The penalties imposed on political protest, even non-violent protest, were severe. During the states of emergency which continued intermittently until 1989, anyone could be brought under forced detention for up to six months. Several thousand individuals were lynched in custody, frequently after gruesome acts of torture. Those who were tried were sentenced to death, banished, or imprisoned for life, like Nelson Mandela. The apartheid policy was highly effective of achieving its goal of preferential treatment for whites, as statistics demonstrated. *****
“Jasmine!” Rebecca called out to her friend at the top of her voice. She had just reached her best friend’s place. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Rebecca!”***** Rebecca Martin lived in Johannesburg in South Africa. She lived with her parents and brothers in an an elaborate mansion with many rooms. They had a black man (called Whitney) who had served the family for years. Jasmine lived in Soweto in South Africa. Her family had to do everything by them selves. Jasmine lived with her whole family in one small room. It was by a strange quirk of fate that the two girls met each other and became friends. Rebecca asked Jasmine to see her again. But she also knew that it wasn’t possible to see each other just like friends, so she asked Jasmine to give her Zulu lessons and said she would pay for them. Rebecca’s parents didn’t like the idea of having a black girl round the house. They were afraid that the neighbors would see her or maybe they could have trouble with the police. Rebecca got real angry with her parents and at last she got them where she wanted them. Jasmine could come every Sunday to give Rebecca Zulu lessons. They used to talk a lot about "apartheid". It was so obvious. Rebecca actually thought a lot about her friend, and she would often give her things like sweaters and other things to help. Rebecca actually felt guilty, because Jasmine had such a miserable life compared to her own. "Why is this world so complicated?" Rebecca would often think aloud to herself. They were of the same age; they were also very close friends. Then why couldn’t anybody threat them as equals? Rebecca soon started feeling guilty for being white.
“I want you to meet Richard, my flame.” Richard, almost as friendly as his girl-friend, extended his hand to Jasmine but she was reluctant to reciprocate, knowing fully well that if Rebecca’s family came to know about her being introduced to their daughter’s boyfriend, they wouldn’t quite like it. “Let’s go for a long drive.” Richard suggested. This was the fist step for them to go outside together. But then something awful happened in Soweto (according to sources, an enraged black mob set a police station on fire after the police lynched a black motorist erupting in a riot of sorts) and Jasmine didn’t want to see Rebecca anymore because it was too dangerous. Finally after long letters and longer waiting, they met each other again. Jasmine started with Rebecca’s Zulu lessons for the second time. Than Jasmine came up with a brilliant idea. They could go on holiday together. To a place where they could do things together without being discriminated. “Have your parents agreed to let you come with me to Swaziland?” “Yes, my mother has!” Rebecca looked extremely excited. The girls were now on their way to Swaziland. Jasmine’s uncle had arranged to bring the girls to Swaziland. But that was on one condition that Rebecca’s father would agree. Rebecca got her mother to help her in convincing her father. Finally, Jasmine came to be real respected in Rebecca’s family. Not only this, Rebecca’s brother started liking Jasmine; he even fancied her. The two girls could now go together on holiday. A trust had been established...a divide of Apartheid, politics and discrimination... Had been broken... BHRASTACHAR (CORRUPTION) “Daddy, I hate you, I hate you.” “I hate you.” These words from Rohan, his only son, had been reverberating in his mind all the time. Dr. Sujit Saxena could vividly recall the sequence of events that night, when Rohan barged into his chamber and started abusing his father. Within minutes, an already outraged Rohan went out in a jiffy and ran up the stairs to his room and slammed the door with a bang. Dr. Saxena advised his secretary to cancel all appointments for that evening and moved to Rohan’s room. He kept on knocking the door and requested Rohan to open it. “What happened, Rohan my child?” “Please open the door. I want to speak to you.” “Please cool down beta.” All requests and appeals went unheeded. Rohan would not open the door under any circumstances. Fifteen minutes had passed as if this was a couple of hours. Dr. Saxena was perplexed thinking of the worst that could happen. He could also not understand what was it that had made Rohan so furious to the point of abusing his father. This sort of behavior had never happened in the past. After the death of Mina, Sujit’s wife about five years back, he (Sujit) had tried to give the best of comforts to his only child Rohan (who was twelve years old now) with all conceivable inorganic devices like money, bank balance, shares & dividends and other assets- cars, computers, palatial houses, cell phones, cameras, digital & branded watches, home theatre and the latest electronic gadgets which money could buy. What he could not give and also NOT afford to give was his love and his time to the growing child. Dr. Sujit Saxena was too busy minting money. He had become a veritable money making machine with his famous nursing home, chamber, patients, and surgeries along with his partner Dr. Anand Taneja. Sujit came back to his room totally perplexed, dejected and made a small drink of the best Scotch whiskey which money could buy!!!!! He got up from the rolling chair. He wanted to make a last appeal to his son and went to Rohan’s room. Sujit pushed the door. He could make out it was still locked. “What happened Rohan beta?” “Please open the door.” “I wanted to speak to you. Please cool down beta.” Sujit made a sincere appeal.
“Am I drunk with only two pegs of Scotch?” Sujit asked himself. “No, it cannot be!!!”
Next morning there was a sudden knock at his door. He got up and opened to find Babulal, his servant for the last ten years, crying. “What’s the matter, Babulal?” “Saabji, Rohan babu is not in his room. I searched every where. He is not traceable. The night chowkidar says he saw Rohan babu going out early in the morning. He was walking. For a change, he did not take any one of the cars nor even called the driver.” Babulal started crying and could not finish further... All support staff; servants, the driver, the cook, the chowkidar etc were summoned. No one knew the whereabouts of Rohan babu. Sujit went to Rohan’s room to find some meaningful answers. There was a letter lying on his bed. On it were the words: “Daddy, I am going out of your life.” “Today is my birthday. In the afternoon, I went down to your chamber to remind you about my birthday. You never cared, never remembered that a birthday could be such an important thing to someone…” “Before entering, I heard some heated arguments between you and Taneja uncle. I hid behind the door immediately to hear the discussion and the subject. Taneja uncle was having a heated argument, possibly on the share of profit of the kidney racket you and Taneja uncle have been running for the last four/five years from this nursing home and this chamber. This is the source of all your wealth and our so called “HAPPINESS.” “SHUCKS!” “I stood behind the door and listened to all the conversations between the two of you. It was shocking. I realized and concluded that mommy did not die a natural death. You had sold off her kidney for a couple of lakhs of rupees to a donor for starting this nursing home. She died during post operative care, since the entire body became septic thereafter and beyond recovery.” “I hate to call you daddy!” “SHUCKS!!!” “I call both of you by names. I don’t care. To me, Sujit, Taneja are just names. Butchers do not have any name.” “Taneja threatened that he would expose all clandestine rackets including the fact that my mommy’s kidneys were removed, knowing fully well that she was surviving on only one. You got an opportunity to make some money. You in reply threatened Taneja of dire consequences and may be even murder in extreme situation. You are cruel, inhuman and worse than the Satan and can go to any extent to earn money.” “Sujit, is this the way to earn money and keep your children happy?” “Do you know what a daddy should be like?” “You are a crook, a liar, a debauch, and no less that a butcher.” “I hate you, I hate you.” “Do you know what love is?” “ You do not, since the time you would take to think about the same, you would be more interested in operating a few healthy ones, take out their kidneys, and transplant on some one else’s at the cost of three or four lakhs. You do not have the time to buy a small birthday gift for your son, since that time you may utilize to operate and cripple some one’s life for a hefty sum.” “I hate you.” “I can now hear the sufferings of hundreds of people in every marble of this house, in every car, in every computer, in every cell phone, in every electronic gadget which you have acquired…” “I do not know how many such cold blooded murders you two have committed in the last couple of years, how many innocent children have become parentless, how many families have been ruined. I do not know how many innocent flowers have lost smiles on their faces???” “Home is where love abodes. I have been missing this for the last few years since the time mommy died. I was a kid and never realized the trauma which mommy went through. She had been greatly pious but see what GOD had in store for her through her beloved BUTCHER.” “I hate you Sujit, I hate you.” “I am sure my kidneys would be up for sale as well in the market for another hefty sum but that will not happen.” “I am leaving this home for good, not because I am scared of death but because I want to live for better causes rather than being a butcher’s son. GOD has brought me in this world with this in mind.” “Do not try to look for me. You may use your money power to search for me but all will be in vain, I assure.” “Bye!!!” Sujit had the letter in his hand. The paper had a few dried up drops of water on top, possibly tears rolling down the cheeks of Rohan while writing. Tiger, Rohan’s favorite Alsatian pet, lay flat on the ground with tears in his eyes. Little did he know that his play mate had left for good, never to return back HOME.... The galaxy of support staff could see the trickles of tears rolling down the cheeks of the father dazzling in the rays of the rising sun….Whether the tears were of despair or regret or repentance, only time would say…. INDO-AUSTRALIA RELATIONS I was so glad I had met Mohit. After all, I had been staying in a nice hotel in the city and wasn’t getting to meet anyone. It was slightly expensive, about $ 500 AUD per night (though only for the first week following which the authorities had given me a 2bhk with concessions off course) but my company was footing the bill. It was a fact that I was the highest paid Company Secretary in India on special deputation in Australia and there were no liabilities. I had read Dale Carnegie’s famous book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People” and I knew I had to deliver at the right time. Success was sweet. Very soon, I came into the good books of my company and I was soon traveling all over the place, meeting high dignitaries in high rises and high places. As Australia tried to attract highly skilled Asian applicants for permanent residency, I could meet with the Chairman of the Australia India Business Council, Mr. Keith Anderson, who outlined to me the growing trade and investment links between Australia and India. In just over 60 years, India had developed from a Colonial British Dominion to a global economic super power, second only to China in terms of GDP growth. Prior to the recent global financial crisis, India’s economic growth had exceeded 9% per annum and with nearly 500 million people aged under 30 and a median age of 24 years, it was the only country in the world with a declining age-dependency ratio, namely a ratio between the young and the old to those economically active. Soon after taking office in 2007, the Prime Minister of Australia, the Honorable Frederick Williams Jr. had pointed out that India was Australia’s sixth largest and fastest growing export market, with two ways trade in goods and services worth Aus $12 billion in 2006. He had identified the Australia India relationship as one of the greatest opportunities of this century for both nations. The Australia India Business Council was the only national non-government business association devoted solely to promoting, developing and maintaining bilateral trade and business relations between Australia and India. It was the product of the mutual recognition agreement between Australia and India in 1986 between the then Prime Ministers, Bob Hawke and Rajiv Gandhi. The Prime Minister of India, Dr. Manmohan Singh, when he was Finance Minister, was the architect of the deregulation of the Indian economy in the 1990s and since then the world had beaten a path to India. The business and trade relationship between Australia and India accelerated and in 2007 then Australian Prime Minister, the Honorable Frederick Williams Jr. had made an official visit with a high level business delegation which had resulted in the signing of the Trade and Economic Framework between the two nations. The Framework aimed to promote cooperation in areas such as energy and mining, infrastructure development, ICT, services, agriculture, biotechnology and inspection and quarantine. The state Chapters of AIBC, in particular New South Wales and Victoria had established vertical industry chapters to attract SMEs to take advantage of information and networking programs which were being arranged on a regular basis. I was also invited to an event organized by the New South Wales Chapter of the AIBC to welcome the new Consul-General for India, Mr. Dillip Dubey, in which the Consul-General made the point that India had a young and growing middle class which provided a huge consumer market for Australian commodities. This presented huge opportunities for SMEs in Australia who were, or might have been suffering from the economic downturn domestically. There were also tremendous opportunities for highly qualified Indian professionals like me to settle down in Australia. “Here’s raising a toast to all those professionals from the sub-continent whom the Australian Government has strongly encouraged as a result of the economic downturn…” “Hey, Mohit!” This was our second meeting. And we were inside ‘Man’s Gallery’, a Strip Club located on 92 Pitt Street, (next to Martin Place). “What a surprise!” Honestly, I had not expected Mohit’s presence at a strip-pub. He was especially inward bound and so in his thoughts and outlook. “Well, I was scouring the net when I came across the ‘Man’s Gallery’ site. I was stunned by the sexiness Sydney had to offer.” Mohit looked extremely turned on. “India has progressed a lot ever since liberalization and globalization came bombarding our living rooms and bedrooms and now you can get everything everywhere!” And the two men burst out laughing. “I must confess that the showgirls are stunning and the service is excellent!” The Poonawala boy added. “WELCOME TO SYDNEY’S PREMIER TABLE DANCING CLUB.” Someone with a heavy voice (apparently a man) blared from behind the scenes. “Please take your seats, gentlemen.” “Sit back and enjoy our experience while you savor the best and sexiest Sydney has to offer. With stunning showgirls and 5 star service lose yourself in the ultimate table dancing experience.” “If you’ve ever visited our establishments before you would know that our name is synonymous with class and elegance and that our girls are the most gorgeous and seductive that you would ever discover. With several clubs to choose from, you are guaranteed to find one that you like.” The heavy tone continued. “Man’s Gallery” is unique in that it has its own special atmosphere and resident showgirls, also available for pickup. So enjoy your visit and make sure you decide to come and see us in the skin.” The heavy voice added. “Wow!” “What an exhilarating experience.” And Feroze could feel that he was already getting a… “What the hell?” He thought to himself.
“What are you thinking?” “Oh, I…I…!” “Absolutely nothing, Mohit.” “I was just thinking about working harder to improve Indo-Australia relations.” And we both burst out laughing again. This time, we were thoroughly enjoying the experience. “Gentlemen, lend me your ears.” It was once again the heavy voice. “Take a fantastic foray into the forbidden in this premier gentlemen’s club where with a fistful of dollars you will have an absolute blast. Man’s Gallery offers its clientele Sydney’s sexiest entertainment in the CBD. Be entertained in our fully licensed club by Australia’s most captivating and alluring table dancers. With stylish surroundings and fine dining or quick lunch menus, this is the perfect place to entertain clients, meet with friends or party into the early hours. Buck’s party packages are popular here particularly if you like sharing the wiles and glamour of Man’s Gallery. All receipts have an alias title so discretion is taken care of.” “Get up close and personal with our dancers by exchanging your dollars with MG Dollars, which are used as tipping money to be placed in the dancers garter – the more you tip, the more you see...” “Or if you prefer, enjoy the privacy of one of the Private Rooms. We offer over 15 of the most erotic and exotic showrooms, so with over 30 of Sydney’s hottest women entertaining you, why not take the dancer (or dancers) of your choice and be entertained personally with a sexy full skin show. For the big spenders there is the Allure Room that offers a little more privacy, service and extra special attention from the ladies as well as a unique 3 course a la carte menu.” “Mohit, I think the man’s voice is pretty alluring in itself.” “Well, Feroze…can we give IT a try…?” “Like WHATTTTT?” “Like booking two private rooms with a dancer each, you take home one and I could another.” “Fantastic, I’m game!” “Then let’s do it!” As we were contemplating sincerely working to improve relations between Australia and the sub-continent, there was a BIG announcement: “Start betting, gentlemen, house favorites:
Due to extremely popular demand and more fun, we are always updating our girls and their schedules. Please call 02 9231 4288 or email rosters@mansgal.com.au to check when your favorite is dancing.” I could see that Mohit was already drunk.
I had gone through a lot, but I could also now recall whose voice it was that sounded so familiar at the strip pub the other day… ‘Justice’ is a seven-letter word. And ‘Injustice’ nine. So is Priscilla. I could now place that so-very familiar voice inside the strip-pub the other day… This time around, it was the same voice. And I could sense that there was some trouble. “Priscilla!” A harsh, cold tone called out in the midst of all that frenzy. “Leave me alone, Nathan!” “Please go away!” “Now!” “No one says no to Nathan!” “Let’s dance!” The Aussie (or whatever) boy retorted angrily. And then he slapped her thrice on the cheeks. As Mohit and I rushed to rescue the girl, there was a big uproar. “Two Pakis or Indians – men of color – men of courage…rushing to rescue a poor little woman!” And the racist remarks continued. “Mohit…it doesn’t look very good around here, let’s leave!” But the brave Punjabi boy stood his ground. “I’m not leaving without the girl!!” “Please try and understand, Mohit…we are outnumbered here.” “You leave…I have my values.” And without waiting further for any body’s reaction, Mohit extended his hand to her. She was in a semi-conscious state. “Thank you so much, who ever you are, may the good Lord bless you!” And she accepted the invitation. And Priscilla, the Queen of the Desert, gave one look at Nathan before coming across to our table and leaning on Mohit’s shoulders. Meanwhile, Nathan was fuming. “I’m not going to leave the two Pakis!” “Leave them alone, Nathan. There are so many others to choose from.” And Nathan and his friends backed away, knowing fully well that the Sydney Police had arrived at the spot. We (the two of us and Priscilla) climbed into Feroze’s convertible. The car zoomed off… JANE Finally, she took a plane to Kenya. She saw it for herself. Conditions in the refugee camp were miserable. Disease was rife. Many of the rebels were in wheelchairs. She went to see Nkrumah Bugu’s family. The UN Resident Representative in Kenya, Ms. Anne Nicole Dixon and the British High Commissioner in Kenya, Sir Michael Armstrong accompanied her. An elderly woman opened the door of the thatched hut. She could barely see or hear. It seems she had not eaten for days. Bugu’s wife boiled some tea. His newborn daughter had the looks of her father, and was rather lean (emaciated) and encephalous. And yet she was such a lovely child. Yes, different color of skin, a different race, a culture inferior to the European white culture, or so we all think but human beings nevertheless. In the Western world, they probably never even knew (or bothered to care) how these civilizations existed… Heather Campbell returned home a changed person. She had decided to forgive the man who had ruthlessly killed her husband. At the next day’s press conference in London, Mrs. Heather Campbell announced her decision. She had decided to pardon Khwmah Bugu, Nkrumah Bugu and the other 71 rebels who had surrendered and acquit them of their crimes in Kenya. As the news of the acquittal sparked a controversy, Mrs. Campbell complained of chest pains… Doctors at the Pinewood Private Clinic tried their best, but finally gave up. Jane Campbell was now an orphan. For ever. This is where the story begins… It had been an eventful year. And on September 11, 2001 Al-Qaeda militants hijacked four commercial jet airliners, crashing two of them into the World Trade Center in New York City, another into the Pentagon and the fourth crashed into a field near Shanksville in Pennsylvania State. America launched a ‘war on terrorism’ attacking Afghanistan and then invading Iraq. Back home in London, there was widespread controversy at the newly-constituted International Criminal Tribunal for Kenya over Mrs. Campbell’s decision to pardon Khwmah Bugu, Nkrumah Bugu and the other 71 rebels who had surrendered and acquit them of their crimes in Kenya. To many, Africa and in particular Kenya was now a forgotten chapter. On the other hand, Mrs. Campbell and others were trying their best to revive that chapter. Mrs. Campbell was in particular interested in undertaking a soft stance towards the perpetrators. She told reporters over the phone (from her house) in London that Kenya was not a forgotten chapter and never should be. She had visited the country and found, or rather discovered that most Kenyans lived in abject poverty. The conditions in the refugee camps were too miserable to be described. Disease was rife. Most babies were malnourished. A majority of Kenya’s population was either undernourished or hungry. She said that she often thought about this, but she firmly believed that hunger/inequality or more appropriately, poverty could be partially, if not entirely, responsible for the rise of desperation and insurgency in Africa. And Kenya was a classic example. But she knew she was fighting a losing battle… And yet she was determined to forgive… They lived in a plush neighborhood. In London. Their neighbor, a young lady her daughter Jane’s age was a follower of the teachings of Shakyamuni Buddha. They were a congregation and regularly held meetings. Mrs. Campbell and Jane often attended these meetings and eventually joined. Jane Campbell would often ask her mother what she would do if she met her husband’s killers by chance. Mrs. Campbell would then say that she would probably employ a bulldozer to crush them to death. Then Jane would often talk about Shakyamuni Buddha’s teachings. But Shakyamuni Buddha’s teachings wouldn’t work on the distraught wife. It took a lot. And she had seen and could identify at least one of his killers…Her eyes would often go moist. Jane would often understand and yet, she said she thought there was much more beauty in forgiving… Twinkle Twinkle Little Star How I wonder where you are
She was not like most other children. She knew she never would be. She was curious about the world. The sun rose and the moon did shine, but the stars never again fascinated her. She knew deep inside that they had taken her father… That they had taken her father. She also knew that Grandma was hiding something important from her, though she knew not what… Things were no longer what they used to be without her father at home, and one could easily tell the difference… By the time she was 19, she had found her personal calling. She knew she wanted to travel the world, she wanted to explore the meaning of peace and non-violence and why so much of violence existed in this world, she knew she wanted to help others, she knew she could join a Buddhist monastery, she knew she could also be a nun and help the world’s children, or work to put an end to social backwardness, but above all… She knew that although she could not forget, she had to learn (and teach) to forgive… Nam-myo-ho-renge-kyo Nam-myo-ho-renge-kyo Jane Campbell often taught that Peace was an art. And so was forgiveness. But it came naturally to human beings. But how would you forgive when you could not forgive? She was aware that ‘Forgiveness’ was a noun, a value to be found in the literature of most eastern societies. ‘Love’ on the other hand was a verb almost always found in Hollywood! ‘Peace’ was a noun (and also sometimes used as a verb) which could be found in universal literature. ‘Non-violence’ was something she would often associate with the teachings of Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. To most of them in Western societies, learning to forgive was no simple task. As globalization and liberalization inundated their senses, they would probably have no other way out but to accept living in a ‘compartmentalized world’, surrounded by high walls that warded off almost every thing else save large overdoses of sex, violence and crass materialism. ***** Jane Campbell had lived for years in the shadow of her father’s death. She had grown up in this shadow. She had never seen her father, indeed he left before she arrived. Mrs. Campbell had also had a fleeting desire to be able to take one good look at the people who had killed her husband, but she had lost that courage. You see, ‘Nam-myo-ho-renge-kyo’ teaches you self-control, and you automatically learn to forgive… Following a reversal of stance and the decision to forgive the rebels- Mrs. Heather Campbell was now the ‘universal woman’… It was in her daughter’s footsteps that she had found her true calling… She did not know where it would all take her, but she was sure it would take her somewhere. She was not the perfect driver, nor could she see the road ahead… But she was the proud mother of Jane Campbell. And she could now protect her lovely daughter from the skies. ***** It was the year 1997 and Jane Campbell’s 17th birthday. That very day, the first meetings of the newly-constituted ‘International Criminal Tribunal for Kenya’ and the ‘International Criminal Court for trying War Crimes, Genocide and Crimes against Humanity’ were held in London and Birmingham, respectively. Africa had very limited representation, while the Western nations, particularly the United States, the UK, France, Germany and Belgium had each sent an army for the deliberations. A reference was made to all volunteers/expatriates who had laid down their lives in the conflict(s), and Gordon Campbell’s name came up first. A majority was taken and after the voting that followed, Mrs. Heather Campbell was unanimously elected and approved as the President of the International Criminal Tribunal for Kenya in a combined gesture of solidarity. In her acceptance speech, the newly-elected President made it absolutely clear that she would do everything it takes in the process of ensuring justice for Kenya and that no one that had been responsible for any injustice would be spared. There was a standing ovation for her. Jane Campbell, sitting in the front row (reserved for dignitaries) feared that the worst was yet to come but said nothing. Sometimes you have to get lost to find yourself. Jane Campbell got lost for a while on hearing her mother’s fiery speech. ***** It was the year 1980. Kenya was in the throes of conflict. In what could be considered the largest and bloodiest coup de’etat in contemporary African history, in which an estimated 2 million people were killed, the Bugu Nationalist rebels led by Khwmah Bugu overthrew the ruling Progressive liberals taking control of the capital Nairobi and all but two of the neighboring provinces. Khwmah Bugu was an authoritarian leader. Promising reforms for an already ailing economy, he deftly dealt with all Progressive loyalists sending most of them to the gallows. The Bugus were infamous for their ‘killer’ circular dance and fire-spitting performing this dance every time they lynched some one. They were also infamous for their marked distrust of foreign nationals and consequently the expatriate population in Nairobi dwindled after the Bugus came to power. The Kenyan economy was in shambles at the time of the coup. People were dying of famine and hunger. Kenyan men were selling their wives and children just to be able to eat. Under the ruling Progressive liberals, the economy was coming into stability. With the coup happening, the new rulers promised a lot but did almost nothing to improve Kenya’s economic conditions. The result was more hunger and with it came more mayhem and greater instability. Under these circumstances, the United States and the United Kingdom started sending in groups of nationals to volunteer in Kenya. The ruling Bugu Government managed to thwart the attempts of the volunteers to enter the country. While a large number of volunteers withdrew their efforts to enter Kenya, a few managed to gain entry into the country. One of these expatriates was Gordon Campbell. Mrs. Campbell was nine months pregnant with their first child. Medical facilities in the place they lived, a remote location 200 miles north off Nairobi were scarce. The Campbells’ experience in Kenya was short-lived. Gordon Campbell, his ailing mother and his wife Heather were abducted in the middle of the night by a group of armed men, presumably members of the ruling Bugu faction. On that fateful day, the day Jane Campbell was born, they put him to death using a machete. Heather Campbell had seen the killers, and could identify one of them as Nkrumah Bugu, a tribal refugee whose family lived in the refugee settlements about 90 miles from their official residence and who was now a rebel. Gordon Campbell’s family, consisting of his mother, his wife Heather and their newborn child Jane managed to flee the country. All other expatriates, with the exception of their wives and children, were executed. ***** They were on the edge of the cliff. His hands were tied up. He was gagged. They were dancing in circles and spitting fire. They had a marked distrust of foreigners. Gordon Campbell knew they would kill him. But he was more concerned about his wife Heather who was in labor. There were no medical facilities (at least to the best of his knowledge) in this remote location of Kenya. It was unthinkable. Her cries became louder and more intense and finally changed to “Baby, Oh my baby!” It was a girl. ***** Then they killed him. It was only much later after she grew up that Jane Campbell learnt that her father had been ruthlessly killed. They had used a machete. With the kind co-operation of Kwmah KukuMuru, a local, the Campbell family had managed to board a plane out of Nairobi. ***** She had fought for her ideals throughout her life. And now aged 67, frail and suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, Jane Campbell needed help. And help stood at the door. It was Alice, the now grown-up daughter of Nkrumah Bugu, who had come to London to pursue Refugee and War Studies at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), University of London. The department had been established by Mrs. Heather Campbell and was dedicated to the memories of those killed in the conflict in Kenya including Gordon Campbell. There was an Englishman with her, presumably her boyfriend. As Alice came closer (and so did Ethan, the boy), Jane Campbell pulled her into a warm hug that lasted for minutes. Then they closed the door behind them. Then she went out into the open. The stars were smiling from the heavens. She waved to her father and her mother’s face popped up from behind the northernmost star. Everything was forgotten. Every one was forgiven. They were all celebrating Jane, Jane Campbell. DADDY -But if my spirit is strong I know it can’t be wrong- (Vangelis: Odyssey) The White Man Shall Battle People in Other Lands… He was battling himself. ***** As the twin towers fell, and as America panicked, John Simpson, a fire-fighter rushed. He was rushed to the hospital. ***** A splinter had fallen on his right leg. John had been critically injured. Doctors at the Seinfeld Center for Emergency Medicine had to amputate the right leg. Following emergency medical procedures, John Simpson was brought home. John was forced to give up his job. He was not even on a plan when the accident occurred. To make matters worse, he had to send Josh to school. And a special school that too. Josh was born hearing impaired and couldn’t speak either. ***** John’s wife soon left him for a wealthier man. Richard Goran was a millionaire. Heather Simpson and her fiancé would often drive down to meet Josh in school. They had plans for the boy. But Josh never liked Richard. ***** John Simpson lived an extremely painful life. He longed to go back to his job, but that was his past. Every one understood his pain, but no one did. Except for Jesus… And Josh… ***** Josh had talent for music. And his father realized that. But he was helpless. About both Josh’s disability and that of his own, and social security. Josh was given cochlear implants and with great difficulty, John often took his son to the therapist and then to ‘Daffodils’, a special music school. But Mama was missing from most sessions. Heather and John Simpson ultimately filed for divorce. ***** It was now a battle over custody of the child. Richard Goran, the millionaire and Heather Simpson Vs John Simpson, the disabled amputee without a job. Over the custody of Josh Simpson, disabled. Potential musician. Son of Heather and John Simpson. ***** It was a fierce battle. Both the legal counsels were equally convincing in their arguments. According to Richard Goran’s legal counsel, a disabled father (referring to John Simpson) was not physically, mentally or financially capable of ensuring a good life for a disabled child. This could ruin the child’s future… John Simpson’s lawyer argued that no matter what, John was the biological father of the child and as the biological father; he had the right to take Josh home. As for the disability, it was only an accident and John was doing every thing he possibly could to give a new life to his child. ***** Although he could no longer drive, he was arranging to take Josh for therapy and to music school. John’s counsel further explained that he was spending a lot of time with Josh, taking personal responsibility for and interest in Josh’s school, supervised play and music classes. John was also planning to hire a music teacher for Josh. John had also given Josh cochlear implants and was taking him for therapy out of his social security. ***** As if this wasn’t enough, Richard Goran’s legal counsel accused John of being a ‘sisee…’ And that was almost enough for the day when Josh Simpson spoke the first word of his life… Daddyyy… ***** It was now all over. As Josh pointed to John, it was clear who had more rights over the child. The court didn’t have to decide. ***** As they emerged, there was a big crowd outside the court room. This was sure a most momentous decision in the history of fatherhood. In the history of disabled fatherhood… Perhaps. OPERA HOUSE “I have always loved Australia.” “I guess I might have been 10 years old when my maternal aunt (who had lived in Australia for several years) first told me about the Koalas, the Kangaroos and the Sydney Opera House. I am not quite sure, but I have always had an inherent obsession with the land down under and a strong desire to travel to that exotic destination.” “After graduating in Commerce from the prestigious Delhi School of Commerce and arming myself with an L.L.B., I decided I wanted to travel to Australia and so I applied to a Work Permit to enter the country.” “Fortunately for me, I had a friend on the High Commission, Andrew Simmons, who helped me through the process. All that cheesy paperwork was over in a jiffy, and I was all ready to travel to work in the land of my dreams…” “As the plane took off from the Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, Mumbai, I could see (from my window seat) that the buildings were getting smaller and smaller and the trees looked like grass until…” “I was fast asleep.” ***** This was Feroze Poonawala’s first ticket to freedom! As he jostled for comfort in his window seat, he found himself leaning against the gentleman sitting on the seat immediately next to him and realizing that he himself (Feroze) was neither gay nor bisexual, he apologized to the man. “Never mind, it happens sometimes. It was not your fault.” “I am Kashif…” We shook hands and he gave me his card. On it were the words: “Kashif Siddiqui. Stock Market Analyst. CEO, Sydney Financial Systems.” “This is your BIG chance, Feroze Poonawala. Capitalize on it.” (I thought to myself. I also wished at that moment that both he and I were gay) “Dismiss those filthy thoughts from your mind, Feroze!” (Once again, I thought to myself) “I’m Feroze…from India.” “I see…pleased to meet you.” “Sir, I…I…” I was just about to continue when the man excused himself to the adjoining seat. “But what was he doing there?” (The Poonawala boy could not contain himself) as the plane touched down in Sydney… ***** Feroze Poonawala was born to Rita and Virush Poonawala in Mumbai on the 25th June, 1974. At the age of five, his parents sent him to study at ‘Little Hearts’ an elitist institution for toddlers in the heart of Mumbai. It was there that he learnt to whack tiffins and speak the oft spoken language, the language of love, a universal language when he interacted with his peers, a value cherished and further reinforced especially by his mother, a devout Parsee. Virush Poonawala on the other hand, was a strict disciplinarian, a fleshy oligarch who knew nothing beyond his money and lifestyle and his palatial mansion in Ville Parle Scheme, Mumbai. He was the President and Chief Executive Officer of Reliance Securities Private Limited, one of the largest financial conglomerates in the country. It was but natural that his only son would grow up to imbibe both the values cherished and reinforced by his mother and the astute business like persona of his father. At the age of 23, the father decided that that it was time the boy settled down into a career in business. It was mutually agreed and the boy was sent to pursue a Master of Commerce at the prestigious Delhi School of Commerce after which he was selected to pursue an L.L.B. at the National Law School, Bangalore. As the son of the CEO of one of the largest financial conglomerates in the country, it was but natural that the boy would look for a career option as a Company Secretary. His role had started from the moment when his father conceived the idea of a company. His father had dreams for him. He had dreamt that the boy would acquire the knowledge and training that would make him versatile to carry out not only various functions in Finance, Accounts, Legal Administration and Personnel but would also carry out his secretarial duties and responsibilities. A company secretary is recognized as one of the principal officers of the company by various enactments. Company secretaries, thus occupy a pivotal and versatile position in companies, interacting with various departmental heads and more importantly with the Board of Directors. Companies having a paid up share capital of above Rs. 50 lakhs or more are statutorily required to appoint a whole-time CS. Company secretaries hold key positions, attend board meetings and have access to top level plans and secrets; they must therefore exercise tact and discretion and be loyal to the company. ***** Feroze Poonawala was by now a qualified Company Secretary. He was now all over the place, a plush job with a leading private sector concern and constantly trading with the stock exchange, et al. His strict disciplinarian father had refused to give him a chance at their own firm in Mumbai. But the boy was earning a huge pay packet in addition to several emoluments (thanks to his multiple qualifications). He had also been offered an apartment in Mumbai and a car allowance. Liberalization and globalization had made a massive boost to corporate activity in the late 1990’s (by the time I was a qualified CS) and along with it the openings for company secretaries continued to grow. In the present age of mergers, acquisitions, and tie-ups this profession looked forward to rich dividends. There was plenty of scope for specialization and moving into general management and administration at the highest level in business houses or CS firms. I started off as a Junior Secretarial officer, went on to become Company Secretary and was finally appointed Financial Advisor. I was finally empanelled for assignment as an expert by the Department of Personnel and Administrative Reforms of the Central Government. This opportunity was to help me later on in my career when I was to move to Australia on a work permit…
On the other side of the border, in one of the elite strongholds of Karachi, Tehmima wife of one Hanif Ahmed, a trader and business analyst was in labor. It was the bitter freezing cold of January 22nd, 1974 when temperatures had dipped. She had been in labor for the last 24 hours, and there were no signs of the baby. “Push, push…come on push a little bit more.” The nurses in the labor room told her. “I can’t!” And then suddenly things started happening. The baby soon emerged… It was a boy! It was the sweetest and the loveliest thing she had ever seen… ***** The first time you see Sydney Harbour, it is as amazing and as breathtaking as you might visualize. The breathtaking view of the Opera House, the cool breeze and all those people buzzing around like bees taking snaps feel like you’re on a high of adrenalin. I could see ferries, boats and water taxis in Circular Quay. The sidewalks were full of street performers and people sunbathing on Bondi Beach, and although I was looking around for topless women, there were hardly any but off course almost all of these were in a bikini with applied sun-lotion on their pink bodies… I had arrived on a Thursday, and had gone sightseeing the following Saturday – scouring the Saturday markets, touring the Opera House and visiting the Royal Botanic Gardens. There were the Aussie natives!!! The Wallabies and the Kangaroos! I continued seeing the city solo as a first time traveler. Even though I was the highest paid Company Secretary in India, the fact was I had been forced to resign back home. And here I was in Australia on a work permit with a company which had hired me for amending the Companies Act and draft investor protection guidelines for that country. My company had booked a very friendly hotel for me on Manly Beach. There were travelers from all over the world, with the majority of the backpackers being British. This was followed by a plush 2 bedroom apartment from the authorities not very far from my office. I was, after all a top –position man… You see, we in India don’t believe in the concept of “human dignity”. If I had joined my father’s office, I might perhaps have risen to high people and places. But because I went my way, I lost my job with a leading financial institution despite my extremely high qualifications. Anyway, I have no regrets. Here I am, or perhaps my fate has taken me to a part of the world away from all miseries I had in India. Where there is human dignity and where you do not necessarily have to be the only son of a millionaire to be able to succeed… This particular hotel had an inn attached to it which I could see oft attracted young couples. I was lost in my dreams of being of consequence to my country and the world when… On the other hand, Rizwan, a middle level man, was struggling to live a better life in Australia. He was desperately wishing a personal catharsis of sorts when someone walked into his life… ***** The evenings were extremely lonely and I was facing acute boredom as a new arrival in Australia. I knew nonetheless that the best places men go to are bars and pubs not only to get a drink but also to get a glimpse of some white skin, or pink or whatever, blondes, brunettes, et al. I was just about to pick up my mug when someone interrupted me… “Hello, I am Rizwan.” The Mumbai boy looked around to trace the voice. But in the midst of all that frenzy and frolicking, he could see nothing beyond people drinking, having ‘fun’ (in India, this was the trend catching up with the arrival of Liberalization and Globalization and the sudden inundating of the senses by a feeling that sex and money can insure happiness), smooching, as also retiring into anterior rooms, everyone in that inebriated state, men with women, women with women and men with men et al. “Hi, I am Rizwan and I am from Karachi.” “Hey, I am Feroze and I am an Indian national.” “Care for a…?” “Oh no, I don’t drink. I don’t smoke either.” Feroze took a pint of Beer before reverting back. “So, Rizwan…you live in Sydney?” “Ah yes!” “What about you?” “Well, I’m on a work permit in Australia. By profession, I am a Company Secretary.” “I am an engineer based out of Karachi. I too currently hold a work permit and will soon be applying for immigration.” “Pakistan has always been struggling with its job market situation making it extremely difficult for us. An unforeseen situation in the country and Government policies always varied effect seriously on the job market.” Yüklə 1,05 Mb. Dostları ilə paylaş:
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