Monthly Archives: April 2016
Chaos means total confusion or lack of order. A lot of people believe that chaos is a negative state and why not? Orderly work is something organisations will always strive for. But I refuse to believe that chaos is as bad. You cannot be chaotic unless you have more than a thing to work on, or say, much more to take care of. You can either be good or bad when you have a unit work to complete. You can be better or worse as you continue doing it. But you cannot be the best without knowing all its facets. The gap between ‘good’ and ‘better’ is lesser than the gap between ‘better’ and ‘best’. What makes that gap bigger is chaos. Strangely, it is the same thing which bridges that gap. You cannot be the best, without knowing the wrongs. Best comes to those who strive to bring order and not to the ones who seek to inherit it.
Take the joker out from the pack and give him a ball to juggle. Aced it. Give him another. Nailed it. But only when he will try to outperform himself by juggling another two, will the audience be entertained. He’ll miss his rhythm at times. One ball falls and all the others fall off. There is where the chaos is. He’ll never know what chaos is, if he does not try to outperform himself. He’ll never know if he ever had a chance of juggling four balls at once, if he does not venture into the chaos. People will remember the elephants with hoopla more than him but that is taking the analogy too far. This makes chaos so important, but why is it special? Because when this joker will be chaotic and will not be able to juggle properly, audience will laugh a little harder that day. That is why they had come to the circus. Sanity will need to remind insanity that it is his efforts, and not his failure, that has made people laugh.
Can greatness be found without chaos? In my knowledge, Indian Premier League can be credited to be the greatest global event India has ever hosted and tell me if it has ever been free of chaos? It has showed an undying spirit to provide a two-month long entertainment since nine years now. If that spirit got shut down in one of the folders of the Mudgal Committee Report or would have got dry alongside the crisis in Maharashtra, there would have been no chaos at all.
I am not a rebel. Rebels like chaos in continuum. I see chaos as an impetus. You will never try to fix it, until it is broken. Chaos is what drives you to fix things before they break. Once they break, it is called a mistake. I am not committing to mistakes, though they make you learn so much. I am committing to risk of making them and then somehow managing to bail yourself out. Much like Bollywood? Yes! A thriller.
At this juncture, I only see gullible people agreeing with me about chaos. The wise will still be trying to make sense out of all this saying, “Why do we need to break the order, when everything is going perfect?” If you’re one of those wise people, you are someone who likes to believe in saturation before it actually happens. Another argument could be that I am not as wise to believe that one’s potential has any bounds. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities, i.e, if you believe the cons of chaos to be infinite. Our limitless potential to progress will always outdo the unending arguments against chaos.
It was chaos which gave us the single greatest thing we know of: The Universe. It is just another game. You see it as a maze which one cannot get out of. I see it as a jigsaw; too many to place but trials will make you turn the right pieces at the right ends. Chaos will take you to the right end. Play it to believe it. Sanity will need to remind insanity though.
Tailors, juice-makers and a few other hawkers, who had always been at the Ganesh Talkies crossing for all eternity, were found missing the next day of the collapse. I do not have their contact numbers and why would I need one if I always knew where would they be found. The flyover collapsed right where they used to sit, but I cannot be sure if they are dead without contacting them. They weren’t on the list of dead people, like many others. I say, “like many others” without any evidence because living at a stone’s throw distance from the accident site, I really do not believe that only 24 people would have died. I severely hoped and wished if there were less of dead people, but tons of metal and concrete falling over one of the busiest crossings in North Kolkata would have definitely fell the curtains for many. All is being said without evidence; like laymen have access to evidence, otherwise.
I wonder, how many dead bodies were sidelined overnight. Bags and bags of chemical were sprayed the next day at the accident site to subside the smell of dead bodies. Vultures circled overhead suggestive of the fact that the debris has more to it than just metal and concrete.
It has just been a matter of one accident, otherwise, the flyover had left no stone unturned in creating problems for us, localites. My maternal grandfather, a heart patient, had to spend sleepless nights while the workers tried to drill in piers into the ground with unbounded decibels. It has been 6 years that Ganesh Talkies has not been free of dust, mud and dirt. Barricades in blue with the text, “We regret your inconvenience” clearly appeared to be more and more ironic as construction progressed. How can you undertake such a project in a residential area? The more I dwell deep in the history of this flyover, the more I feel for the deceased. Death under the flyover was obvious, it was always a question of who would die.
“We moved out in January 2013. Living next to the flyover became claustrophobic. The road got so congested. Our privacy was gone. We just could not take it any more,” the former resident of 10 Kali Krishna Tagore Street said.
Read full article here.
“This flyover has long blocked out the wind and sun from our lives. And if they decide to demolish it now, the structure will certainly crash into our home. Who will take responsibility if the section right above crumbles and falls on our home?” homemaker Sutapa Das, 41, demanded to know.
Read full article here.
The news of accident shook one and all at home. Calls went out to every kin, near and far. Calls came from friends, close and distant. It was scary to see the wreckage on television on the road used so frequently by all family members. A variance of half an hour in the timing of the collapse…
In November 2015, Mamata Banerjee had committed herself to opening by February a flyover which was already running 62 months behind schedule and barely 76 per cent was complete by then.Local residents have been complaining about the faulty construction to their MLA since years now and yet Mamata Banerjee had openly set targets for the project, thus supporting it. In stark contrast to the ambitious deadline, The Telegraph even pointed out the flaws in CM’s target here:
Land and locations, which I have learned to be the pre-requisite to any construction, still have not got a green signal. Why did she not breakdown on the corrupt construction company, then? Why is she distancing herself from the project now? Madam Chief Minister, who are you trying to fool by blaming the Left for tender allotments? Your brethren has sucked on similar sums of money from the blacklisted company.
The illogical deadline by our Chief Minister triggered by nonchalance of CDMA coupled with faulty engineering and workmanship has resulted in such adversities.
Madam Chief Minister,
I have always been scared of flyovers: the height, the landings scare me enough.
I had a conversation with a dear friend today,
And we wondered what would cause more dismay:
Being on a flyover when it falls, or under it.
I am not sure yet which I’d prefer
Surely either would make me suffer.
People are stuck under the wreckage of the fallen bridge
And yet you carry on with your voters’ pitch.
You sling mud at the Left, the builders and all the rest
But you know full well it is your skills which have been put to test.
When you blame the Left,
Know that I am aware of what is right.
With you around, my future here is not very bright.
Most friends my age have left the city long ago,
I somehow couldn’t let go.
I couldn’t let go My city of Joy,
But now when I see the sorry state, I cry.
You announce some six figures in the name of relief,
Not once do you bow your head in grief.
Not once do you look at us in the eye,
You just continue to blatantly lie.
I watch English TV series a lot
Calamities, crime shows and murder plots.
Their level of critical management is my idea of copying the West,
A clock tower and LED lights are surely not their best.
You dig into your archives to deflect the blame,
The builders too have got no shame.
‘An act of God’, they say,
“Dear God, I hope you’re listening”, I pray.
Madam Chief Minister, it is time for you to step down,
If you can’t take responsibility for what goes wrong.
I’ve been sighing all day as I hear you talk
Governing a state is not cake-walk
My sympathy and support are both long gone,
I hope we find a replacement for you this time: someone really strong.
Source: Scribbling Sheet
The flyover fell. Ganesh Talkies was red. And I was ever so blue as they lifted the dead covered in white. Whatever be the colour, it was never under construction but just under corruption.