A Heartless Joy C.J.

V All of us have heard the story of the stereotypical poverty stricken family; a working mother, an asshole father and the unfortunate offspring. However, what no story records is the readers attitude towards the suffering of the unfortunate. For a change, we have an incident that reflects the heart and soul of my fellow Kolkatans. A fifty year old woman hangs herself from a lamp post in the heart of the city at four p.m. outside a metro station and her body dangles for almost half an hour before anyone even bats an eye. Such callousness towards the human condition hasnt been seen since Hitlers reign. A city is represented by its people; Kolkata stands for the Bengali music, cuisine, warmth and culture. None of these qualities live in the inhabitants of Kolkata. This incident has shattered what little faith I had in the Bengali. Incidents like these are commonplace; an old man shivers for a couple of hours in front of hundreds of people before dying; a man faints outside the Howrah station and dies of heat stroke while a few score people surround him and offer nothing but a curious stare; a couple of teens bleed to death on the Hoogly bridge and not one vehicle aids them; such stories are commonplace and we are fighting for human rights, for freedom of expression, peace and prosperity. Screw this list of problems with our nation, this nation is not worth

improving while the people remain blind to the humanity of other people. So dont go out there and march for a dead political victim, a raped girl, a bombing or sacrificed soldiers; go out there and stroll around your locality, find a beggar and give him a loaf of bread; go to your nearest slum and play ball with the children and treat them to tea and biscuits; find a hurt pup and nurse him back to health; hell! Just go and sit with your parents and chat for an hour, before you start demanding things to make your life more comfortable, make sure that your life is worth making more comfortable. For this city of heartless joy needs hearts who can hold up its former glory. For there is no joy left in the city of joy.