Cauvery! the name resonates as "riots/bundh/violence" in every one's mind, more so to the fact that in early 1990's Cauvery issue was a larger than life controversy. Today times are different though politics has its own hold on the issue from past 30 years.
Being born and brought up in the twin cities of Bangalore & Mysore, Cauvery for me was just not a river but a symbolic representation of struggle, back in 1990's when we used to live in Rajajinagar, a area which housed large number of Kannada and tamil population,Cauvery riots were part of our lives! I have seen glasses shattering, bikes being doused, people being threatened and more so people being thrown from their own houses. Back then bunds were more serious, people invariably were part of it even though they dint want to, Situation demanded, with no cable television or any form of sustaining entertainment, people vented out to show their frustration, their anger, their belief sometimes not even knowing the cause for which they are fighting out.
I was part of one such incident invariably, probably I could say one of the very dark days of my life, the year was 1995 when the neighboring state's demand for more Cauvery water raised, it was then the Central Government of India had formed the formal "Cauvery water distribution panel" before the verdict was out there were protest and then there were riots.
Being grown up in a local neighborhood my love for Kannada was indefensible, I loved every aspect of the language, while I was nourishing my brain to gain more maturity on my craziness, there was a call out for volunteers one fine afternoon in the neighboring cricket field "We want youngsters, youth blood to fight for our cause...we need people to join us in the protest march, we will get our water..." the call outs were impressive so were the people who organised themselves to influence all the youngsters, instantly we friends decided to join the protest march, after all it is our water and we want it, the slogan was fresh in our minds, the date was set and a very powerful leader of those days was set to flag the march. The march was simple walk from Rajajinagar to Rajbhavan (Which was then a deserted place, for me) and then there was a rally right in front of the rajbhavan, ofcourse traffic was just another word in dictionary then! things were cooler and calmer!
I promised myself to shout till my last decibel could be heard, the day was set and the perfect lie at home was hatched out! things did not look complicated!
A simple T shirt, chappals with few books and pens and a torn bag plus few other friends who believed the cause set out for the common meeting point. There were people and more people, there were hundreds, hundreds turned into thousands and thousands into many thousands, considering the fact that "Infy" was still a start up then, the population of bangalore was not something we could boast of. Of course we were lost in the crowd but then the sense of fear started creeping up, right at the entrance we were asked to collect the magnificent "Yellow, Red striped cloths" we had to use our creativity to wear, some made it as a flag, while some of them tied it as a head band, other's creativity was not something worth of expressing in words. Time started to tick as the thousands awaited the grand entry of the man, the political leader who was supposed to flag the march. Scorching sun reached its new peak as the sweat glands started to work more, the first sight of the man was seen, waving his hands out of a newly bought "Contessa Car" the scene was pictorially good and the march was finally flagged.
Slogans started, voices were raised, young people were asked to dance (of course we were included in the so called request). With only one aim of "getting back water" people put their lives into the march, with no concept of "bottled water" then, people in the march were served water by the residents who then considered to be as seva, of course I am talking of days when "ethics" was spelt correctly to some extent.
Everything was perfect only till 2 kilometers and then started the most glorious act of "Stone pelting", suddenly there was a new adrenalin rush among the thousands to throw anything they get in their hand, no one had an idea, their motive was to destroy. Glasses were shattered, shops were attacked anti-language slogans were shouted. Suddenly the orders came from no where to burn anything that comes to hand and there went fumes high! That was the day I learnt that tyres could be used for other purposes. Lost in the direction of belief and riots, the young minds in us started developing a sense of fear. It was ugly and so was the situation but the real belief was burnt along with those tyres. No one knew the reason nor the reason for the march, suddenly things started to seem so artificial and manipulated, along with those glasses our hearts too were shattered, people were hurt and there was blood every where, not knowing what to do and quite far from our houses we were strangled between fear and belief. Just then a tall dark looking gentlemen pulled us aside, "shh! stay here..." he pushed us into a what looked like a half open tailor shop, "Why the hell did you join these guys?" he screamed at us..we sat there confused, battling for the lost confidence in the system. Things weren't just about water, things now had gone beyond water.
The dark man gave us some bread pieces and asked us to leave once the mob passes through the whole road. Tired and afraid we started to run looking for a new meaning of belief without even turning once back!
As we reached home, with our sense knowledge shattered we promised not to venture out to anything similar.
It was next day when the fear in us took a new turn when we learnt that the small tailoring shop was burnt to ashes in riots. Things were not just about the water!
-Abhishek Iyengar
Categories:
ThoughtsUnparalled