Utopia page 45: Three stars to separate thought processes

“The deteriorating law and order situation in various parts of the country has forced investors to offload their investments. The news of bomb blasts and ever increasing threats of blasts in different cities has kept investors and business growth activities on the sideline. It affects as a serious stop mark on our job market.” Rizwan continued.

“Power cuts have also been disturbing the economy, especially the industrial sector as it is one of the largest sectors of Pakistan’s economy. This sector should employ a large number of labors. But owing to electricity breakdown already established industry is deteriorating, resulting in the prevailing unemployment ratio. Due to less availability and high rates of basic inputs like electricity, gas and oil etc, many industries have been closed and many preparing to close. This uncertain situation of power failure is reducing the plans of the future business expansion in the country and leaving an irremovable impact on the Pakistan job market.” The boy from Pakistan added.

“The current global financial crisis has also been one of the biggest reasons of unemployment in Pakistan.”

“Yes, this is a growing trend around the world.” “The crisis originated from the banking sector of USA, UK and some European countries and is now a global phenomenon.” The Poonawala boy remarked in response to Rizwan’s concerns.

“I am trying to settle here, Feroze.”

“That’s a good idea off course.” “I appreciate your thinking on the subject.”
“I live in a motel from where I travel every day to the heart of the city.” “Just around the southern end of Manly beach.”
“I was looking to be friends with someone from the sub-continent; after all a bit of the ‘race’ feeling still exists. I wouldn’t call it racial segregation or racial discrimination though.” The Pakistani boy continued.
“I’m so glad I met you.” Rizwan added. And we shook hands and departed promising to meet again.
“This is my card. You can call me on this number or leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”
I gave him my card and he gave me his and then we waved goodbye to each other…
*****
After taking a candlelight dinner, I took a girl home. We closed the door behind.
“You look beautiful tonight, Priscilla!” “I feel like…” Period.
She jostled to me for comfort and I could feel I wanted her desperately.
“Remove your clothes, sweetie. Let’s have a look at you.”
As she removed her brassiere, the first look of her repulsed me. Here was a woman I loved, minus a woman.
I laid her on the bed, not suspecting what was to come next.
“Wow!” “I love the size of your tits.” And I stroked her right and then her left nipple and squeezed her breasts. She moaned and groaned for more.
We turned on the TV. Some Russian Porn was coming on.
Both Priscilla and I got turned on.
However, I could feel there was something weird coming on. She never quite felt soft to the touch, though off course she was extremely sexy…She had somewhat manly features but I disregarded that initially.
“Priscilla, take off your …” I was almost down on my knees begging for her to allow me to enter her.
As Feroze pleaded with her, the lady stripped. And gosh, there he was utterly confused and extremely repulsed.
A tranny? Feroze thought aloud to himself.
Would you as a guy pick up a sexy transsexual and take her home?
Although I was thoroughly repulsed, I nevertheless enjoyed the experience.
This was me, Feroze Poonawala, a normal man and Priscilla, a tranny trying to make two ends meet in bed off course.
Here was a young virgin on a work permit in Australia and his partner, Priscilla whom he had been introduced to in a pub in Sydney.
But why hadn’t Priscilla confided in him earlier?
Perhaps his friend Kashif Siddiqui knew better…


PEDRO’S GOLD

He took one last look at his mother. Frieda Sanchez was crying. Then Pedro shot himself.

He was now the richest man in the world. And this was all Pedro’s Gold…
*****
In one of Rio’s densely-populated Favelas, the younger son of an illegal immigrant once whipped out a toy gun saying the entire world’s Gold would one day belong to Pedro Sanchez…
This was one of the most impoverished slums of Rio. The Earth Summit was now over, but the rich had grown richer and the poor had grown poorer. Some of these Favelas had no water and no electricity. Most of the children were out of school or had dropped out due to financial reasons. These children had then taken to the streets and to drugs and crime and pornography.
Billy Roulet, the local drug pimp was determined to exploit the situation. He would often visit these shacks in a bid to lure these desperate boys into drug-consumption and drug- peddling. It was not long before Pedro Sanchez fell into brown sugar. He would often be found missing from home.
*****
Then one day ‘Bill’ as he was known enticed Pedro Sanchez and six other boys into making a plan to rob the famous Bank de Rio situated in an elite township of the city.
The plan was, they would enter the bank (which was under heavy security) through the rear entrance, decode the system through a special device to be provided to them in advance and then open the vault. Finally, the boys would force the cashier to hand over the entire cash reserves and valuables to them. Billy would be meeting the boys at the gate. They would then be driven to the local hideout where Donnie Garcia, the most wanted man in Rio, would meet them.
*****
Every thing was in order. The perpetrators were heavily armed. Not even the guards could do anything. As the cashier protested, he was shot dead. Pedro Sanchez and his six accomplices escaped and came out into the open.
But Billy Roulet was nowhere to be seen.
The bank robbers were rounded up by the police. It seems ‘Bill’ had been doing the dual job: that of a drug pimp and that of a police informer. It was also apparent that he had left the mafia and was operating independently.
This course of action off course had its own demerits. One fine day, Billy Roulet was found strangled to death in his lavish 16-room high-rise apartment.
*****
The court room was packed. There were reporters from all the leading dailies. As police constables escorted him in, Pedro’s mother could not contain herself. She blamed it on the cops, she blamed it on the courts, and she blamed it on a system that supported economic inequality.
As the court resumed session, it was clear that most of the witnesses and their counsels, most of the people that mattered belonged to the elite society. There was no justice for the poor.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a pocket gun. Pedro Sanchez had shot himself through the head.
*****
It came out in the news papers the next day that a poor Rio boy had shot himself when the court was in session following a felony. Unable to put up with the pain, the boy’s mother had committed suicide.
Back home in another Favela, one fine day, Emilio Perez whipped out a small armament, presumably a gun and said that the entire world’s Gold would one day belong to Emilio Perez…


GILLIAN MOORE

This is a story of courage. The story of an unemployed divorcee mother who became a legal publishing assistant and almost single-handedly brought a small city to its feet and a huge Illinois based corporation on its knees on charges of polluting the city’s water supply.

*****

“…Taylor Houston: 85-655-8765. 12 years old, 13 in June. Lived on the plume since birth. Wanted to be a synchronized swimmer so she spent every minute she could in the Magnus pool. She had a tumor in her brain stem detected last November, an operation on Thanksgiving, shrunk it with radiation after that. Her parents are Michael & Patricia. Michael’s got Crohn's disease; Pat has chronic headaches, and nausea, and underwent a hysterectomy last fall. Michael grew up in Chicago. His brother Nathan, and his wife Emma and their five children: Nathan Jr, Martha, Ed, Rose & Peter also lived on the plume. Their number is 654-8766, you want their diseases?”

Gillian had successfully quoted from memory important statistics to a group of lawyers who weren’t quite thinking she could add anything to the case.

*****

“Mama, can I have a Ham burger, potato fingers and a coke?” It was Todd.

“Sure, pumpkin!”

Kate wanted a burger with plenty of cheese and a coke while little Jenny (ten months old) had to settle down to some baby food her mother was carrying for her.

“Whitney…?”

“Yes, Gillian?”

“Can we have two burgers, one with Ham and the other with plenty of cheese, potato fingers and two cokes?”

“Sure, and you?”

“Well, I’ll just have a coffee.”

“Al right, table four-two burgers; one plate potato fingers; two cokes and a coffee, right?”

“Righto…!”

*****

“Would you like to have a cup of coffee?”

“I’m not here for coffee; I’m here looking for a job.” “I’m jobless and added to it, I bumped my car into an overloaded station-wagon, and here I am facing thousands of dollars in damages.”

“I don’t even have insurance!” Gillian continued.

“What makes you think you can just walk in here and take whatever you want?”

“Now tell me, are you or are you not giving me a job, Harry?” Gillian had posed a question.

“Calm down, calm down…Gillian!” It was Harry Levine, Gillian’s lawyer.

“Calm down…how can I, Harry?”

“Besides…I’m smart, I’m dedicated and I’m brave. Don’t ask me to beg. I deserve one!” Gillian angrily retorted.

Gillian Moore got the job.

*****

On July 23^rd, 1960 a little girl was born in Lawrence, Kansas to Frank Miller, an industrial engineer and Betty Jo O'Neal-Miller, a journalist. Gillian L. E. Miller attended Lawrence High School then Kansas State University in Manhattan, Kansas, and graduated with an Associate in Applied Arts Degree from Wades Business College in Dallas, Texas. She worked as a management trainee for Kmart in 1981 but quit after a few months and entered some potentially lucrative beauty pageants. After winning Miss Pacific-Coast in 1981, she gave up pageant life. She lived in Illinois since 1982.

Gillian Moore-Swift as she was called was involved in a car accident in Reno and was seriously injured. Her case was settled out of court for $45,000.

She never had any formal law school education. But she had Frank and Betty in her blood and was destined to grow up into a brave woman who could eventually manage to bring down the giant Magnus Corporation of Illinois on its knees. In the process, she had to put up with lack of support (with the exception of Harry Levine); hostile and sometimes potentially dangerous situations from even death threats and anonymous phone calls; expose her cleavage and do some ‘sexual favors’ (that were about 543 favors in six days which left her tired). Ultimately, she was to prove that in the process of being courageous, it is the power of the human spirit that eventually prevails.

*****

“I wonder if one can still call me a woman.” Mrs. Judith Franklyn had tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Off course, you are…a lovely woman!” “Look at you!” Gillian tried to give strength and solace to the victim. The damage had been done already.

“I guess…I would have been more of a woman with my breasts?”

“No, you are a beautiful gift of God. You’re so divine and pure. I understand breast cancer can be painful, but…it was not your fault!” For the first time, Gillian was less impatient, and extremely empathetic to a person she considered more of a victim of globalization.

“O my God…Ethan; Nathan; Heather…get out of the pool soon!” Judith Franklyn had suddenly realized that the pool water might be contaminated.

It was a late realization, but come it had largely owing to the dedicated efforts of one Gillian Moore-Swift, an American legal publishing clerk and ecological activist who was instrumental in constructing a case against the defaulting company- Magnus Corporation of Illinois in 1993.

*****

“Todd, where’s Aunt Michele?”

“She’s left, found herself a new home with her daughters and grand daughters.”

“Where from do I hire a new babysitter?”

“Well, I’ll take care of the kids in your absence.” It was Ray, her punk-sort of a noisy neighbor who used to often honk in the middle of the night waking up the Gillian Moore family and disturbing Gillian.

“So, what business d’you have, Mr. ...?” “Waking up the neighborhood in the middle of the night?”

“Ray…”

“So, Ray, how do you presume I would leave my kids with an absolute stranger?”

“I’m no stranger!” “I’m first and foremost your neighbor; an eligible bachelor and I’m unemployed!”

“Been without any formal schooling or work…but I can manage kids well.”

“Can I have your number, please?” “I mean how many numbers you got?”

“Oh, I got many numbers. For instance: ten.”
“Ten?” Ray was perplexed.
“Yeah. That's how many months old my baby girl is.”
“You got a little girl?”

“How 'bout this for a number? Six. That's how old my other daughter is, eight is the age of my son, three is how many times I've been married -- and divorced; twenty is the number of dollars I have in my bank account. 850-3943. That's my phone number, and with all the numbers I gave you, I'm guessing zero is the number of times you're gonna call it.”

That night, Gillian Moore found her man.

*****

“Jenny just spoke her first word: ball!”

Gillian was in office late when Ray called her up.

This statement from Ray was enough to elicit a strong emotional response from Gillian. She had indeed found her man…

*****

“Gillian, I suggest you ought to give up this job. It is hazardous.” Ray seemed extremely concerned.

The reason, she had run across some classified files on a ‘pro bono’ case involving medical records (including blood pathology reports) in real-estate files and Magnus offering to purchase the house of one Judith Franklyn, a resident of the small city of Quincy, Illinois, a river city located along the banks of the Mississippi and the county seat of Adams County.

This was when she had started working in legal publishing in her lawyer Harry Levine’s office. Prior to this, Gillian had asked Harry if he could find her a job in compensation for the loss she had incurred in a personal injury lawsuit against a doctor in a car accident.

*****

“I’m pretty much convinced, Harry!”

“That?” Harry Levine was a man of facts, if not figures.

“Well, I’ve been able to see some of the classifieds which I have also made copies of.”

“After digging into the particulars of the case, I see that the facts do not add up. Please, Harry…you must allow me to go deeper into the subject!” Gillian had a grim look on her face. The impatience was just a matter of time. And the courageous woman was all set to explore the subject, and explode on the matter.

“In fact, Prof. David Scott of the University of Chicago cautioned me in the process of my investigation that Hexavalent Chromium can actually do a lot of physical damage to both the nervous system as well as the liver; the pancreas; and can also cause cancer.”

“Magnus has deliberately tried to systematically cover-up the industrial poisoning of the city of Quincy’s water supply.”

“This threatens the health of an entire community of people. The residents of Quincy suffer from extremely extensive illnesses, both nervous and physical. This is the result of the carelessness of one mighty corporation which simply refuses to clean up the water or treat the same following release of hazardous effluents from its factories.” Moore continued.

“Take a look at these pictures of dying or dead mammalians, and I have myself collected some samples from the pool close to the factory.”

“I’m determined to bring the company to justice!” Gillian angrily retorted.

“You mean, you intend taking on an entire corporation worth billions of dollars?” Gillian could see (on Harry’s face) the same look of concern she had seen earlier on Ray.

“You are simply a Harley Davidson!” And the two burst out laughing.

*****

But her laughter was short lived as she actually could see (from behind the blinds) a burly man on a Harley Davidson racing away after having dropped a note on her front lawn.

The note read: “Beware…Ms Moore.” “Not everyone can take on Magnus…”

The very next day, she related every bit of her experiences, both negative and positive to her boss.

“This is a whole different ball game. A much bigger deal.” Harry Levine had only this to say.

“Kind of like David and what’s-his-name?”
“Kind of like David and Goliath!”

But the girl didn’t want to give it up for anything.

Judith Franklyn had once asked Gillian whether she was a lawyer.

Gillian’s reply to the question was “NO, no... I hate lawyers. I only work for them.”

And now she had actually convinced Harry Levine that there ought to be a legal fight to the end against the mighty US Midwest energy corporation Magnus Corporation with headquarters in Chicago.

Who would be entitled to how much was the main question…in terms of physical suffering, how much would each resident of Quincy be entitled to…?

*****

The battle started.

There were the counselors from Harry Levine’s firm on the one hand and the lawyers from Magnus Corporation on the other.

“Let's be honest here. 20 million dollars is more money then these people have ever dreamed of.” Ms. Sanchez, one of the Magnus lawyers asserted somewhat over-confidently.

“Oh I see, now that pisses me off. First of all, since the demur we have more than 400 plaintiffs and... Let’s be honest, we all know there are more out there. They may not be the most sophisticated people but they do know how to divide and $20 million isn't dirty when you split it between them. Second of all, these people don't dream about being rich. They dream about being able to watch their kids swim in a pool without worrying that they'll have to have a hysterectomy at the age of twenty. Like Rose Fernandez, a client of ours. Or have their spine deteriorate, like Stan Cummings, another client of ours. So before you come back here with another lame offer, I want you to think real hard about what your spine is worth, Mr. Walker. Or what you might expect someone to pay you for your uterus, Ms. Sanchez. Then you take out your calculator and you multiply that number by a hundred. Anything less than that is a waste of our time.”
Shocked by Moore’s reply, Ms. Sanchez picked up a glass of water.
“By the way, we had that water brought in special for you folks. Right down from Quincy.” Gillian had a hint of satire in her eyes.
Ms. Sanchez eyed the water warily and set the glass back down.
“I think this meeting is over.”
“Damn right it is, Ms. Sanchez!” It was Harry Levine this time.
*****
“How did you do this, Gillian?” Kurt Potter was amazed.
“Well, um, seeing as how I have no brains or legal expertise, and Harry here was losing all faith in the system, am I right?”
“Oh, yeah, completely. No faith, no faith...” Levine was all agreement this time.
“I just went out there and performed sexual favors. Five hundred and forty-three favors in six days... I'm really quite tired.”
*****
“I’m tired, Victor!” “Can I have a coffee please?” Gillian had just pulled up at the bar.
“Gillian, your coffee!” “It’s on me.”
“Thanks, Victor!” Gillian was enthralled. After all these years, she was the talk of the city and widely respected.
“Hi Gillian, I’m Charles. Charles Bonham.”
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“Well, I may have some information for you regarding the Quincy groundwater contamination case.”
“Well…what…?” “I’ll be back in a moment!” Gillian couldn’t control her excitement as she raced to a local booth to call Levine.
She was back in a moment.
“So you were saying something about the Quincy case?”
“Yes, my name is Charles Bonham and I was told to destroy documents at Magnus.”
“What…?” Gillian was startled if not shocked.
“Everyone at Magnus knew about it. In fact, I have on me a 1966 document that is proof of the fact that the management at Magnus located in Chicago, the headquarters knew that the water was contaminated but actually kept it a secret from the Quincy residents.”
*****
There was a one-man jury that examined the evidence related to the case and ordered Magnus to pay a settlement amount of $333 million that was divided among the 543 plaintiffs.
Gillian Moore-Swift received a two-million dollar bonus check. The once beauty queen was too shocked to apologize.
*****

Moore received an honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters, Honoris Causa Degree and was Commencement Speaker at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign on May 5, 2007. She also received an honorary Bachelor's degree from MUST University and an honorary JD from Harvard Law School, Massachusetts.

Today, Moore is a noted speaker in demand for U.S. and international speaking engagements. She works with Chaney and Kuzak in Los Angeles, Lanier in New York and Stephen Jensen in Brisbane, Australia.

Moore eventually published a book entitled “Take It From Me: Life's a Struggle But You Can Win” in October 2001, and was on the NYT Business Bestseller's List. She has also hosted Challenge America with Gillian Moore on ABC and Final Justice on Zone Reality. She is the President of Moore Research & Consulting, a consulting firm. She is currently working as a consultant for Chaney and Kuzak in Los Angeles, the New York law firm Lanier, which has a focus on claims for asbestos exposure, and Stephen Jensen in Australia.

EXPENSIVE MACHINES

The remains of the aborted fetus were secretly disposed off. However, someone had informed the Haryana police. The Chatwals were led away for interrogation.

*****
The villagers of Kanwari, Hisar district of Haryana were jubilant. Dr. Vikram Chatwal, the leading gynecologist-cum-obstetrician in the village had purchased two “expensive machines” that he told the innocent villagers could detect all female diseases through simply putting on the machine. It had cost him about Rs. 40,000 a piece and he had purchased two such machines from a local dealer Himmat Singh who was supposed to get a certain part of the full profits as well as some commission on each “female disease detected”…
*****
Soon, patients and their families starting arriving by the dozens. As this was a relatively poor village patients had no option but to consult practitioners rather quacks who did not even hold a proper medical license. In a part of the world synonymous with poverty, it was but natural that social evils such as malnutrition, child marriage, child labor and high school drop outs should routinely exist. It was under these circumstances that medical practitioners were minting money out of ignorance, an official apathy and a general lack of information among the masses.
*****
“Nammo Kaun Hai?” (Who is Nammo?) The clinic attendant was impatient, if not rude. Nammo was escorted inside and the doors were shut.
Soon after, Dr. Chatwal emerged and reported that the girl (in this case, Nammo) was suffering from a condition called “acute ovarian polymyletilitis” a kind of growth in the ovary and that he had corrected the same through surgery. Nammo was then taken home for rest after which Malkiyat Singh Marwara her father-in-law had to report to the clinic and shell out Rupees Twenty Thousand for the surgery. Everything was al right until…
*****
Nammo started complaining of intense pain in the abdominal region. She used to wake up in the middle of the night crying out in pain. She would also often throw up besides off course not being able to ingest solid food. This time, Malkiyat Singh and his son, Harkirat (Nammo’s husband) decided to re-visit the clinic. They were assured this was only a post-operative pain and would subside after some time.
*****
Meanwhile, more and more people, especially young women accompanied by their husbands, were flocking to the clinic to get relief from their gynecological problems. Dr. and Dr. (Mrs.) Chatwal seemed to have a solution and “an answer” to each one’s personal issues. On the one hand, the news spread like wildfire that Dr. Chatwal and his wife and their team of attendants had ‘devised’ a machine to detect female problems and they started minting huge money while on the other hand, Nammo’s condition worsened. She was given a sedative to alleviate the pain and induce relief.
*****
Harkirat, a true Haryanwi, a brave one that too who could no longer see his wife in pain, decided to call in a general physician from the city much to the displeasure of his family. But the young blood from Hisar, a brave farmer had already decided he had had enough. Without informing anyone, he secretly employed Chiranjeev Singh, a poor fellow in desperate need of a regular livelihood to watch Chatwal’s every step. At the same time, he had had a physician called in from the city to give his wife a check-up.
*****
“It’s O.K. Relax!” “Take a deep breath.” “Everything will be al right.” Dr. Ashok Gupta was extremely courteous.
Nammo seemed to be in intense pain. Her condition seemed to be deteriorating.
“Mr. Singh, can I have a word with you?” And Dr. Gupta took Harkirat aside.
“A personal question, Mr. Singh…if you don’t mind?”
“No, I don’t, doctor!” Harkirat looked extremely tense and worried.
“Was your wife pregnant at the time this operation was done on her?”
“Ah yes, but why do you ask, doctor…is something wrong?” Harkirat was now even more anxious.
“No, I mean…did you have a preference for either a boy or a girl, I mean did you indicate a preference to your doctor?”
“We did say we would have loved to have a boy, but we never did indicate a preference.”
“Well, let’s come to the real question now, Mr. Singh?”
“Yes!” By now, the brave farmer was sweating profusely.
“Did you want to abort the child? It was a girl child after all!”
“NO…I mean NO!” “First of all, we didn’t know it was a girl child and secondly, even if it were, we wouldn’t want to abort an innocent fetus!” Harkirat’s hands were trembling this time.
“Mr. Singh, let’s face it, your wife was NOT suffering from any disease. These were certain symptoms of gestation, you know the period during which she was carrying the baby. When you took your wife to Dr. Chatwal, he had already noticed that you were vulnerable enough for him to mint money. This was a machine used to actually determine the sex of the fetus…and…” Dr. Gupta seemed reluctant to disclose further.
“Please tell me, doctor…please tell me what the matter is!”
“Well, in that case, your wife was in gestation up to her 12^th week when the fetus was aborted…”
“Oh, my God!” “That explains why she has been in so much of pain, doctor?” “And what and how am I supposed to tell Nammo now, doctor?”
“Well, sometime or the other…you have to tell her. Its better you tell her now than later. And remember you have to take very good care of her now. I am prescribing some medicines which she has to take regularly.”
“Will she ever be able to conceive again?”
“Most certainly…but make sure you take extremely good care of her and give her the medicines on time. Maybe, what she needs now more than anything else is rest and love…” Saying this, Dr. Gupta left the premises.

*****
In our country, hundreds of women and their families flock to gynecologists, obstetricians and maternity clinics every day to find out the sex of their unborn baby...even as early as after 14 weeks of pregnancy. And a substantial number of them grimace when they realize that it's a female fetus. Often, they opt for a medical termination of the pregnancy. Though couched in very convenient, medical terminology, the whole process comes dangerously close to being called by a shameful name - female infanticide.

Is it not shocking that every sixth girl child's death in India is due to gender discrimination? The statistics are still suspect because most cases go unreported. No strata of Indian society can boast of being absolutely free of prejudices against the female child and the tables and pie charts are proof of this.

For every 1000 boys, there are just 929 girls in India. It's a skewed sex ratio, thanks to a general inclination towards the male child in traditional India. Thousands of fetuses are being killed every year in Haryana, Uttar Pradesh and Himachal Pradesh. Contemporary cases of female infanticide can be traced in parts of western Gujarat, Bihar, Madhya Pradesh and Tamil Nadu.

The yawning gap between the sexes is growing each year with the spread of gender testing technology. Sonogram clinics crowd most cities. There are also doctors who take the machine into rural areas for quickie scans and inevitably, terminations. The law has officially banned gender testing, but the practice is still prevalent. And the loopholes in the law ensure that the practice flourishes.

However, lack of information and a general ignorance among the masses may also be responsible for illegal terminations of pregnancy, even when you might not actually want it.

*****
“Am I not a human being too?” The fetus thought to itself as the expensive machine sliced the body into bits. No one, except Nammo could feel the pain the fetus might have felt inside the womb.

No one actually feels, except the mother…
And as she recovered from the local anesthesia, Nammo writhed in pain. She could perhaps relate to all the pain the baby had gone through in the process of being killed.
*****

Nammo has recovered now, but is still in a state of shock. The family has had to employ a Psychologist to heal her. But the scars remain…

The not-so-fortunate ones are still suffering the scars of a painful wound.
Dr. Chatwal, his wife and their team of attendants have now been handed over to the police who been informed by a secret informer. Perhaps it was Chiranjeev, it might have been him…but no one knew.
*****
Radiologists have now started opposing the state government’s new plan to install a device in sonography machines to check for sex determination tests, saying that the state should not force doctors to buy the expensive device that costs Rs 40,000 a piece. The state came up with this plan to curb female infanticide.

Dr. Ram Tiwari, chairman of the Indian Radiological Imaging Association told “Ubharta Aaina”, the state of Haryana’s daily in maximum circulation : “We’re supporting the government in checking the social evil [of female infanticide] by following the provisions in the Pre-conception and Pre-Natal Diagnostic Techniques (Prohibition of Sex selection) Act, 1994.”

Dr. Tiwari said the government must instead focus on unregistered sonography machines, especially in cities like Mumbai. “There could be about 50, 000 sonography machines in the country of which only half are registered,” Tiwari said.

Health Minister Dr. Ramgopalan Srinivas said there were only a few radiologists, who were opposed to the idea of installing the device. “We will deal with errant people with iron hands,” he said.

This standoff between the state government and radiologists might delay the plan to execute the project in Hisar district.

The district of Hisar Executive Health Officer Dr G.T. Amber Singh said a senior doctor will visit Hisar to study the model and submit a report.

The plan will progress only after the state and radiologists arrive at an agreement.

The pilot project to curb female infanticide was launched in Hisar six months ago. The state government now wants to replicate the model across the state.

In Hisar, the district collector has been trying to convince doctors to install an instrument in their sonography machines.

The device feeds radio images and personal data of patients to the main server installed in the collector’s office.

The administration would use this data to verify whether the pregnancies were continued or aborted.

The vigil would be stricter in the case of women who have had a history of delivering girls.

*****
"I absolutely do not encourage this practice because it leads to female infanticide," says Dr. Veena Chanda (name changed to protect identity), consultant - obstetrician and gynecologist at Ravi Kirloskar Memorial Hospital, Bangalore. Having been confronted very often with cases where the patient herself or her family wish to know the sex of the child so that they can terminate the unwanted female fetus, Dr. Chanda says that she tries to reason out with such people that a girl is just as good as a boy in today's world. "I don't spare them the lecture," she says, making a faint attempt at humor. "Unfortunately," she continues, "there are people adamant on knowing the sex of their child . . . and worse, there are doctors willing to terminate an unwanted fetus."
*****

It has been three years since Nammo underwent an amniocentesis. Now, Harkirat and Nammo have decided to conceive again, this time on a plan. Harkirat has made sure that Chatwal has been driven out of the village, and good times are back again…

Really…?