Sunday, February 1, 2009

We Are Not Terrorist Baba!

As we the common man approach a multiplex we become a common subject to terror. Terrorism has permanently purchased our mind space and settling down very well. As we slowing glide our middle class friendly car towards the entrance of a well known multiplex, four well muscled security men in blue dress jump at us as if we are a part of Taliban. Asking us to open our car, bags and purses. Feeling so insulted for just pure entertainment is not in our books. My five year old daughter smiles and all she gets is a very tough stern suspected look by the security men.

Feeling a subject to suspect and rolling down to the basement, finding a parking space to avoid getting robbed. We walked up to the entrance getting scanned and x rayed by the machine as they get way down to our bones . Just a foot further a private check by an uneducated security guard who eventually as the right to our DNA systems. Walking upstairs feeling completely naked and stolen of our common human dignity we pushed ourselves from screen one to screen five. Feeling excited and lucky to have reached so far to watch luck by chance an uneasy scanned atmosphere prevailed all over. We all looked at each other and our minds turning round and round in circles of threat.

Two very prominent colors dominated the surroundings in red and blue which depicted the endless violence and conflict. As the pop corns popped up our brains overflowed with artificial waters for pleasure. The lucky doors opened for us to get seated. Getting a visual command to stand up for the national anthem. Singing a national anthem is always a pleasure but singing a national anthem for act against terrorism and there unknown presence is complete contradiction. As we watched luck by chance we were unaware that we are been watched continuously too....

As the show ended we felt lucky to be alive on two counts firstly not getting shot by a terrorist and secondly and not getting shot to be a terrorist! I Guess we got lucky by chance.....

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