I am back after spending 4 days in Berlin for a conference.
"So, why are you here?"
For the umpteenth time. After all the paper eating visa gods, my DNA, hair specimen and what not rotting in their files, embalmed in their computers, the same question again.
"So why are you here?"
That computer screen in front of her should know it. That screen holds nice book marks of my body fluids, tuberculosis status, finger prints, places I have been, people I have met....
This is not my first entry. On that great day, the body went through many types of laser beams to make sure that my skin flakes which will fall on the holy land will never pose any threat to anybody.
Questions whose answers the computer screen screams out falls all over me. "Who funds you?", "Why did you go out?", "Why did you come back?", "Is your funding from India or here?" It is part of the new security measures. Break them down a bit, humiliate them by three spoonfuls. Them the possible criminals, those who pollute the milky streets with dirty spots of coffee, cocoa, yellow or black...break them down bit by bit in the most legal, disciplined, panoptic and bureaucratic way.
I am coming back from a city where you find the names of those who were send to the concentration camps on the sidewalks of the streets where they used to live. You have to look carefully on the pavement to find the name of some one whose hair ended up as woolen blanket, whose body fat made nice soaps. Now, just a name on the pavement, a bit difficult to see.
How many kinds of genocides do great nations carry within them? How many kinds of cleansing sprees? How many kinds of holocausts? Waiting for the right moment to break open.
And then, once it is all over, people sit up and wonder. How could this ever have happened? How could cruelty ever reach such institutional dimensions? There was never ever any sign of it