I am morally responsible- In fact, a little more than you

An ordinance was passed in Mumbai a couple of months back, that banned dance bars. It promises to end the exploitation women in the dance bars are subjected to, and the abuse women at home have to endure. In the name of morality. In the name of ending exploitation and prostitution. Commendable right? Wrong. What happened to those seventy thousand bar girls after the ban? A fate worse than death, a mockery of life. Some became full time prostitutes, some went to other cities to become bar girls and prostitutes there, some went back home to be ostracised and some luckier ones committed suicide. And what happened to the pot bellied moral policeman of the morning? He went to the "dance-less" bar in the night, got his share of whisky from some waitress he made a dirty pass at and went back home and beat his wife. In the name of morality. And now are we on our path to heaven? Have we become pure- insusceptible to lust and temptation?
It all started this way. Mr.S commented on my blog a few days ago. I went to his blog as a return-of-courtesy (I apologise for not finding a better word Mr.Jargon guru). I noticed a post which was quite cynical about Deepavali, because a lot of kids are subjected to torture and we enjoy what they can't.To quote him "Those who rolled in gunpowder, to give someone else a strange kind of light. A light that does not represent hope. Instead, the anguish and oppression of the human soul.Loud explosions for the memory of a nameless young one whose childhood was stolen for the sake of celebration. Lights in the sky for the ones the stars never shone on". So come lets not enjoy Deepavali. I could't but help comment saying what seems cruelty to you is FOOD for these kids. I went back there sometime later to find the comment gone. He said "juscant stand having stupid people with no sense of moral responsibility around.he didnt seem important enuff for me to try an explain to him".Which is why I decided to use my bit of the blogosphere to answer him.

"If any civilization is to survive, it is the morality of altruism that men have to reject". Ayn Rand.

So. I just returned after a horrible dinner in the mess. Something children in Sivakasi can only dream of. Even the food I have in the mess is heavenly for them and probably they'd feast on it if I ever give some of it to them. Now I'm in front of my laptop lying comfortably on my bed with a nice blanket to cover me. What do I know what it is to go hungry. What do I know what it is to be the sole meal provider for my family. My father doesn't come home drunk and abuse my mum, take away all her cash and blow up his own. I can take my time off, blog, study get a decent seven point eight and get placed in some software company. I can be a "morally responsible person" and use my sense of morality to boycott the ONLY source of income these children and their hungry families have.
Say. Just assume. Get into the world of a sivakasi child labourer. Your typial media "patheticised" sad faced dreamy eyed child labourer who has nowhere to go. Hey presto! A NGO hops in raises a large hue and cry, gets the factory he/she works in shut down and leaves. Morally responsible enough Mr.S? What happens to that boy or girl? Are they given proper food and education? Are they and the families they support looked after? Are they REHABILITATED?.Imagine.Just close your eyes be the child and imagine.Education.Or food?Or seeing your family die hungry.Why think of them during Deepavali Mr.S? Why not when you are having your dinner? When someone gives you deepavali sweets do you think of the child who's made the whole country celebrate? Or are you bothered about your "moral responsibility" of not offending the relative who passed on those divine cashewnuts? . Now. Lets start off with a merry go round where nobody gets the brass ring. Boy out of factory and into school. Parents don't earn enough. Family goes hungry. Boy drops out of school, and lo and behold! We're back at square one.
Ending child labour is not as easy and rosy as Mr.S and Mr.Jayanth sitting in front of their laptops can brag away in the blogosphere. It is REHABILITATION of the ENTIRE family. And it is there that we fail. It is there that the big economists and big lawyers and big media people fail. Now if these industries bloom, with proper public attention, it can be ensured that these factories have HUMANE working conditions. These children DON'T need your "text book" education. They need to be made literate and trained for some vocation. Whats the point in making their families starve to know when Chandragupta Maurya took over some godforsaken kingdom some hundred years before some epitome of morality was born? Better schools and agricultural development that raises incomes could reduce the exploitation of children by parents. But even if this induces parents toput all their boys in school, many will put little girls to work as long as these are viewed as debit entries in a financial ledger.
According to the International Confederation of Trade Unions, about 90 per cent of India's production of fireworks is at Sivakasi, in both licensed and unlicensed factories. Most of the output is used on one day - Diwali, the festival of lights. In the industry, they say, "We produce for 300 days a year, we sell for 30 days, and the whole thing goes up in flames in three hours." This guarantees employment throughout the year Mr.S, something your morals haven't been able to provide an alternative for.There are millions of unmployed people in India. Such is the scenario. So many of them could be diverted to these factories where children work. And then? What about the children? What about the families? Did you ever think? Or are you too morally responsible for that?
Ending child labour in the match industry could create a local labour shortage, which might tend to drive up the piece rates.But match factories are easily relocated at little cost, and would only migrate to poorer districts which would gratefully grab jobs at the rates currently paid by Sivakasi (which, incidentally, boasts today that it has no unemployment or beggars thanks to the match industry).Then? Does the exploitation you so vehemently talk of stop? Are women and children still not abused? And does it stop only at Diwali? Tell me Mr.S. Now I assume you own a bike or a car. Ever got it serviced? Noticed a child doing odd jobs there? Or are you too morally responsible for that? I assume you have leather shoes. I assume your house has a carpet. C'mon! Throw them out now. Morally responsible are'nt you!In 1992, the American Embassy in New Delhi noted that estimates of children in the carpet industry range from 300,000 to 400,000. There are 77 million child workers in India accoding to government reports. The actual could be higher (trustable sources)
Oh! And do you know the kind of conditions children ar subjected to in remand homes? Ill treated, abused, harassed and very often sodomised. Immoral enough for you?
It is our moral responsibility to ensure enforcement of proper ethics in the cracker/match industry which pays Rs.20 per day, to make sure the working condotions are better, that the children are given proper protective gear, and are given an opportunity to earn while they LEARN, rather than boycott and end the firecracker/match/carpet/leather industry.
(1) The struggle for rights is firmly located in the overwhelming struggle to survive and to change, transform, even revolutionise society.
(2) The rights of children and child labour are not isolated but part of the thrust against all injustice. Which means that adults and children alike we have to ensure humane conditions for all labourers.
That is where all your pseudo morality gets nullified.
"The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live".Ayn Rand.

A blindingly bright Deepavali

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I got out of bed at all
the morning rain clouds up my window and I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be grey, but your picture on my wall
it reminds me that it's not so bad
it's not so bad.

Before I start off...Deepavalida shubhasheyagalu (Happy Deepavali!) to everyone!

Deepavali ( Yes. Deepavali) Was awesome. In the true sense. It started this way. After my midsems I had this burnout kind of a thing. So I decided that I needed a breath of fresh air. So I decided to take the long trip home...

28th october: I get up in the morning. I'm leaving for Bangalore tonight, so I'm all elated. Check my ticket status. RAC 42. I'm pissed. Go to college. 2nd internal marks are out. I get the lowest in the class(I'm the once upon a time class topper you know). The enthusiasm seeps out quite quickly. Electronics viva to gulp it all down. Get confused with diodes sodomising me. Get back pack all my clothes and set off to the railway station REALLY late. Train departure time's 9 PM. I'm there at the station gate at 8 55. Don't know which platform either. Walk on to platform 1 and see that the train's late by 45 minutes. Get on board the train later when the train gets more than an hour late. Need to board Udyan exp at eight. This train's scheduled to reach Mumbai at 4. Call it a day. Hope the train's not late further and sleep off.

29th October: My eyes open at 4. Its Borivali. Train's caught up. I get enough time to brush my teeth and alight at Dadar and move to VT (Yes. VT). Anirudh's there. Waiting for me. We go out and have breakfast. (The early morning breakfast scenario in Mumbai is pretty bad...six O'Clock and no restaurants open!).
Come back to find my ticket's confirmed. Side upper. My favourite. Good company. Get to study a little bit of Induction motor on train. Lotsa chikkis and food. Train on time.

30th october: Warm welcome at home. The usual enquiries. Lots of calls, invitations. Whole day at home. Meet two friends I'd lost contact with!

31st october: Day at home. Lotsa food and fuss. Heaven! Lekha comes home. Ruin her love life by suggesting the guy she ha a crush on crush is gay. Get my head all guilty, and go to celebrate diwali at my uncle's place in Indiranagar, with a group of a dozen people above fifty and half a dozen below three. We burst 'sursurbattis' (sparklers). Awesome fun....really!

1st November: Happy Rajyotsava dear Karnataka. With Mr. Deve Gowda around, you don't have too much to celebrate around.
Meet Shamitha after a long time. Missed her SO much! Along with the rest of the Kumarans CBSE 12th group. Aditi Chatterjee was a pleasant surprise there. Never thought I'd be seeing her again...Satya and Ashwin were there too. No one has changed. Thats what love about home. Nothing changes.

2nd November: (O.K...I know its boring!) Go over to Shamitha's place and meet a couple of her friends. Then to Lekha's and there the old trio- Jayanth, Shamitha and Lekha get back to gossip and cribbing about our directionless lives. Come back home to find Nivedita and her boyfriend waiting to see my neighbours burst their superb rockets. It rains heavily so the fireworks show is displaced by dinner. Life!

3rd November: Hey I don't have tickets to go home. Scream at mum for screwing things up! Go in the evening book mom's new Scooty Pep Plus. She still thinks its better than an Activa. Mums really...

4th november: Day starts at five AM. Get up and rush to the ticket counter at five thirty. First in line to book a tatkal ticket to get to Surat on saturday night. Come back and drop dead asleep. Go out. Meet Pavan and Janaki. Eat Gobi Manchuri (something I forgot to deify in my food post).

5th November: Time to get back to damned Surat. Get all packing done in the morning. Evening go get mum's new mixer set for the kitchen. I try to convince her to get me a Worldspace set...in vain. Eight PM. Set out for the station after the usual rona dhona shona... Train leaves at 9 25 PM. Get to sleep with a headache.

6th November: On a train with a zillion gujjus. Major studying for the series of tests I've got to appear for the next week. Stay awake the whole night for Surat which comes at two AM.

7th November: Arrive at 3 AM and reach the NIT and end up in an altercation with the Rickshaw driver. Come back to the room to find a crowd and a lot of mess. Roomie's pissed because I dint get enough food. Wake up way beyond what my alarm clock should have woken me up at.

Oooh, life goes on, and it’s only gonna make me strong
Its a fact, once you get on board say goodbye cuz you can’t go back
Oooh, it’s a fight, and I really wanna get it right
Where I’m at, is my life before me, got this feeling that I can’t go back!