15 August 2008

WHAT CAN I DO FOR INDIA?

I was going to let Indian Independence Day pass without comment this year; I have been quite ill and didn't really feel I had anything new to say this year. Then, in good ol' IHRO (International Human Rights Organisation), I read this challenge:



Respected Friends,
On this wonderful occassion of 15 August, let us all contemplate
on one question.

"What can I do for India?"

And, then let us start action on those steps.

Continous contemplation on this question, and action, is perhaps
the only way to pay real respect to the soldiers who sacrificed their
families and lives, for us.


Best Wishes
and signed by the author, whose name I am not using, as he probably wouldn't be pleased to see his name here.

I am not one to let a challenge pass unanswered, so here is the answer I posted today on IHRO. (BTW, the last time I posted a letter expressing similar ideas and opinions, it was suggested that I be kidnapped, transported to Mata Bharata and put on trial for treason against the Republic of India, the idea being that I should be awarded capital punishment. Only problem with that is that I have never been a citizen of India, nor have I ever pledged any support for that country. But if that's what it takes...)

Here is my answer:



WHAT CAN I DO FOR INDIA?

I am afraid that Mai is about to jump up on her soapbox and tell the
truth as she sees it.

First, I must make it clear that I speak only for myself. I do not
speak for any group or organisation. These are my own ideas and
opinions. Second, I currently reside in the United States of
America. The ideas I express are perfectly legal, protected speech
here. I am advocating nothing illegal.

I am not an Indian. My family is not Indian. My father was a
Punjabi; never once in his 97 years on this planet did he call
himself or think of himself as an India. To him - and to me - India
is an artificial construct invented by the British for their own
convenience.

I am a Sikh - partially of Punjabi extraction. This country India
has been less than kind to me and my sisters and brothers. As a
group, we agreed to support the Nehru-MK Gandhi Axis in return for an
autonomous or at least semi-autonomous region in Punjab, only to find
that when independence came, we were told that 'the situation has
changed.' We were betrayed both by the Indian government and by our
own 'leadership.' Not only did we not get freedom, our home - our
Punjab - was divided between two warring countries amid
inconceivable bloodshed. Later, of course, our Punjab was further
divided in a futile attempt to weaken and silence our self-
determination movement. This tactic didn't work.

For all the years since then, we have lived under the harsh thumb of
the majority group of this country. When we made a move to regain
what is rightfully ours, circa 1984, the full force of the Nehru-
Gandhi family (different Gandhi, though) was thrust upon us. Each of
us has our own story to tell about this period, mine involves a short
detention and torture during the Bluestar Massacre and then the
murder of my entire immediate family in the Delhi Pogrom following
the execution of Mrs. Gandhi.

Since that time, I have become a bit radicalised - stumbling over the
dead bodies of husband, son, brothers, can have that effect. I have
not returned to 'India.' I will return for only one of two reasons:
to watch the executions of Jagdish Tytler, Sajjan Kumar and their
cohorts - or to see the flag of Khalistan raised over our beloved
Punjab.

India is not and has never been one country. It is a ragtag
conglomeration of different states, different cultures, different
languages, different values. Like the Soviet Union and the Balkans
before it, it must and it will fall apart by its own weight.

So what can I do for India? I can sit here, half a world away,
unafraid, freely expressing my views, waiting. Waiting...

Chardi kala!

Mai Harinder Kaur

Is Singh Kinngh?

I have three posts to write here today. They might not all get in today, though. This is the easiest and shortest, so it gets to be first.


What is it with this movie? I haven't seen it and don't intend to. I rarely see movies anyway and although sometimes I enjoy the music, most movies out of Bollywood seem to me to be just silly and a waste of time. I have nothing against silliness, mind you, but it needs to be enjoyable silliness, not just silly, stupid, dumb.


All I have seen of this movie is a video someone sent me on my facebook scrapbook. It has a catchy tune, a bunch of sexy gyrating females and a fake Sikh in a fluourescent green turban my Dad would have loved ogling anf gyrating with the aforementioned females.


What's with this movie? I ask again. Maybe these Sikhtoons hint at the answer.



Ah, well. Anyway, I found this parody poster of Sonia and her tame Sikh lapdog amusing. Perhaps you will, too. Or not.

08 August 2008

Whither The Khaliblog?

We have been thinking a lot about which direction this blog is heading.

When we started this blog, the three of us, Vini, Suni and Mai, we were very clear in our own minds what this blog was about. We had scoured the Internet and found a lot of information about the Indian atrocities of 1984, but very few personal stories. The main purpose of this blog was to help rectify this situation. We also hoped to be a platform where others could tell their personal stories.

The first purpose, we think, has been accomplished. Our stories are here; we've put a link to them a the top of the right hand column. Looking at Site Meter, we are pleased that those links are being used and our stories are being read.

We have been much less successful with our second objective. Only a very few have responded with their own stories. There might be several reasons for this. A big one is that many survivors don't have access to the 'Net, and many of those who do are either uncomfortable with English or unable to write in English. Another is that these stories are very difficult - painful - to tell, much less write. We hope that more will come forward. We do hope, as well, that our stories may have provoked discussions across generational lines about survivors' experiences. From e-mails we have received, we know that this is the case.

We would now like to issue an invitation to those who were not there, maybe not even born yet, to tell their own personal stories. Where were you when you first heard the news stories of these events? What was your reaction? Have you spoken to your elders about these things? What were their reactions? We would love to hear any such stories you would care to tell. Just send them to Mai at simayanan@gmail.com. We'll be happy to publish them, with or without your name, that's up to you. (Yes, anywhere on the 'Net you see 'Simayanan' no doubt that's Mai.)

Which brings us to this: For a long time now, Mai has been writing this on her own, with very little input from the rest of us. After some discussion, we feel we should officially turn The Road To Khalistan over to our Mai alone. Her health has improved and she seems able to handle it. We will always be here for backup and we both have her passwords (hehehehe), so we'll still be here in spirit. And if she gets too hot-headed, we'll try to rein her in a little - but only a little - her passion is one of the things we treasure about her.
So we two bow out and turn this over to Mai.



Go to it, Lady Khalsa!

Gurfateh and Chardi Kala to all!

Vini Kaur

Suni Kaur

*******************************************************

I admit that I'm a bit sad at dissolving our corporate person; at the same time, I am now more free to say what I want without clearing any controversial statements I may wish to make. Now I have complete editorial control, although, of course, my co-authors are always very welcome to contribute. When we started this blog, we were all inexperienced and very naive about the Internet. We didn't understand much about search engines and key words. We all thought that our little blog would be lost among the millions out there in the blogosphere. Little did we realise that putting 'Khalistan' in our title would get us noticed. I think that if we had realised, we would have found another name, something less conspicuous.. None of us wished to draw attention to ourselves and our very personal stories. I am pleased, though, that our stories are out there and being read, not because they are our stories, but because these stories need to be told.

Now it seems that I have a few decisions to make.


First, is there any point in continuing this blog? Yes, I think there is. We have a readership of about 45 each day, mostly from India, Canada, The USA and The UK - in that order. We also have a regular readership in Australia, Singapore and Malaysia. There are a few readers from other countries, too, some intrepid person in Oslo, Norway visits often, plus a smattering of readers in the Arabian Peninsula and Pakistan. We have occasional visitors from throughout Europe, Asia and Africa. Once in a great while, someone from South America stops in for a visit. There are a couple of maps in the right-hand column that you can check out, if interested.
As long as you keep reading, I'll keep writing. Is that a deal?

Second, what about content? I have pretty much been putting into this blog whatever comes up of a nature that I feel involved in as a Sikh. You'll keep hearing about the continuing saga of Brother Laibar Singh Ji, a person I am strongly committed to. An exception to this policy of covering all interesting things Sikh is that I have avoided involving this blog in the shenanigans of the High Muckety-Mucks in Amritsar. I find their manipulating Machiavellian machinations in Maya to be disgusting. Sikhi is my religion, my way of life, who and what I am. It is the core of my being, my great passion, my way of maneuvering through this life. It causes me great pain to see those who are supposed to be leading us acting like snot-nosed little brats who should be sitting on the 'naughty stool, not holding positions of power affecting all Sikh worldwide. I hate seeing one family set itself up as the Royal Family of Sikhdom - and it hurts me to see others accept their domination. That said, I do not see how my delving into this cesspool of dirty politics and ruthless, filthy ambition will in any way help my dear sisters and brothers, my fellow Sikhs. So I intend to continue to avoid these political issues. But my mind might be changed if it gets too outrageous.

I intend to change my profile picture each month to reflect some current Sikh issue. I might or might not write about it, but it will be there. Last month, I showed the damage caused to a brother's back by a lathi in Mumbai. How deeply we are loved and appreciated by these Indian people whom we have saved numerous times! I guess seeing Sikh blood gives them a feeling of power. Or something.

This month, I am using a portrait by the very talented and equally modest brother simmal tree. Our former header picture, We Are Going To Battle, is also from him..He allows me to freely use his pictures, asking only that I acknowledge Vahe guru. Since anything good we do is really Vaheguru, I love doing that. To see the discussion on this month's painting, go here. I would also suggest that you click on his photostream there and look at some of his own pictures. This portrait, Daughter(s) Of The Khalsa, has several meanings to me. First is the way we Kaurs seem to have no voice. I think we need to find our voice ourselves. This Singhni is not bound or tied. What is stopping her from taking the tape off her own mouth? I also see this as a metaphor for the way the government of India keeps trying to subdue and silence us Sikhs. I have no idea what it will take for them to realise the futility of their tactics.

Another note. According to a poll I took some time ago, the majority of readers of this blog are young men in their twenties, mostly from India. I am aware only a small percentage of readers answer polls, and I think that is probably accurate, although quite a few female readers have comminicated to me privately and I also know of several older people, hurray! I want to assure all of you that I will never let The Khaliblog - my personal name for The Road To Khalistan - degenerate into a feminist rag. There is one very good reason for this. I am not a feminist. I do believe in the equality - or rather the equivalency - of the sexes, as Sikhi clearly teaches. I do not believe one gender ought to dominate. And I do not believe in one of the feminists' key beliefs, abortion on demand, for both moral and practical reasons. And I do have an outrageous sense of humour that has been very unappreciated by the feminists I have known. So, while I will continue to write on women's issues as they arise, I will continue to write on whatever concerns me.

The remaining author, Kamal Kaur, is my dear friend and younger sister. The Internet being what it is, and given the volitile nature of our world, we have thought it prudent to preserve this blog outside of blogger. She is helping with this and needs administrative powers to help me. She has never written here, but I heartily hope she'll one day write about how she first learned about the events of 1984, events that occurred before she was even born. Come on, Kamal, please? I'll even proof read it for you, if you like.

(BTW, I am aware that many of my readers do not have English as their primary language. I promise to try to avoid using expressions like 'manipulating Machiavellian machinations' too often, but I love the English language and can't promise I'll be entirely successful. I have put a dictionary widget in the right hand column. If anyone knows of a widget that will translate English into Punjabi, please let me know. I've installed the one that translates into Spanish, French, Japanese, Chinese, etc., but I haven't found one for Punjabi.)

So where is this blog headed? The answer is I'm not sure, except that it is running headlong into the Sikh experience in the Twenty-First Century of the Common Era.

There is a saying, if you don't know where you're going, you'll probably end up somewhere else. So let us gather up our chardi kala and stride into that 'somewhere else,' 'the road less traveled by', with our integrity intact, our heads held high, and courage and joy in our hearts.


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

by Robert Frost
Mai Harinder Kaur

WHY TRY TO FIT IN?
YOU WERE BORN TO STAND OUT!

06 August 2008

"Now The Sun Has Come To Earth... - The Legacy Of Hiroshima And Nagasaki

Crossposted from sometimes - 2

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS A VERY DISTURBING PHOTOGRAPH OF DEAD BODIES FROM THE HIROSHIMA BLAST. IF YOU CAN'T TAKE IT, PLEASE GO READ SOMETHING ELSE. BUT I SINCERELY HOPE THAT YOU LOOK AND SEE AND THINK AND FEEL AND UNDERSTAND. AND WAKE UP.

***************************************


Sixty-three years ago today, the United States of America committed what is arguably the most serious war crime in history:


The sun is burning in the sky
Strands of clouds go slowly drifting by
In the park the lazy breeze
Are joining in the flowers, among the trees
And the sun burns in the sky


Now the sun is in the West
Little kids go home to take their rest
And the couples in the park
Are holdin' hands and waitin' for the dark
And the sun is in the West


Now the sun is sinking low
Children playin' know it's time to go
High above a spot appears
A little blossom blooms and then draws near
And the sun is sinking low

Now the sun has come to Earth
Shrouded in a mushroom cloud of death
Death comes in a blinding flash
Of hellish heat and leaves a smear of ash
And the sun has come to Earth


Now the sun has disappeared
All is darkness, anger, pain and fear
Twisted, sightless wrecks of men
Go groping on their knees and cry in pain
And the sun has disappeared








Recorded by Simon and Garfunkel

Please check out this website: Hiroshima And Nagasaki Remembered

The top picture was taken by my little sister Lindsey Bush before a tornado in Ohio.

The mushroom cloud picture is the actual photograph of the atomic cloud over Nagasaki 9 August 1945.

The final picture is from the Robert L. Capp collection of ten photographs of the immediate aftermath of Hiroshima. For more information go to Atomic Tragedy.


This article from 'tv news lies'








Written by Reggie
Monday, 04 August 2008 14:36
On August 6 and 9, 1945. After six months of intense firebombing of 67 other Japanese cities, the nuclear weapon "Little Boy" was dropped on the city of Hiroshima on Monday, August 6, 1945, followed on August 9 by the detonation of the "Fat Man" nuclear bomb over Nagasaki. These are to date the only attacks with nuclear weapons in the history of warfare.

In Remembrance of Hiroshima and Nagasaki

When the bombs were dropped I was very happy. The war would be over now, they said, and I was very happy. The boys would be coming home very soon they said, and I was very happy. We showed ‘em, they said, and I was very happy. They told us that the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki had been destroyed, and I was very happy. But in August of 1945 I was only ten years old, and I was very, very happy.

The crew of the B-29 was so young and heroic, and in the photo they also looked very happy. For some reason, I clearly remember the name of the pilot, Paul Tibbets. Of course I remember the name of the plane, the Enola Gay. And oh yes, I remember the name of the bomb. It was called Little Boy. That made me smile.

I was so proud to be an American that day because we had done something so remarkable. They said we were the first. We were Americans. We were powerful. But they didn’t say that Little Boy had killed 66,000 people with its huge fireball that fateful day in August. They didn’t say that Hiroshima was not a military target, but a city filled with men and women and children and animals who had no idea they were about to die so horribly. When you’re ten, they don’t always tell you everything.

I don’t think anyone made as big a fuss over the second plane, or its crew. Are they even in the Smithsonian? Second best doesn’t count, I suppose, but I remember wondering why they had done it again. Wouldn’t the war be over anyway, like they said? Weren’t the boys coming home very soon? Hadn’t they already showed ‘em how strong we were in Hiroshima? So they told me that the second bomb was called Fat Man, and that made me smile.

So I was even prouder to be an American that second day. They said this would be the end for sure, and after all, these people were the enemy and you kill the enemy when you can. But they didn’t tell me that Fat Boy had killed 39,000 human beings with another fireball on another day in August. They didn’t tell me that Nagasaki was not a military target, but a city filled with…well, you know. They didn’t even tell me that there were horses trapped in the flames of Nagasaki, because I loved horses and that would have made me sad. But when you’re ten, they don’t tell you everything.

Today I’m no longer ten, and I am no longer happy when bombs fall. And the names Fat Man and Little Boy no longer make me smile because I now know the devastation and horror of burned bodies and twisted metal that result from the mushroom clouds. And I am ashamed that on this day Americans don’t stop to remember what was done. And I am horrified that my government has just killed thousands of defenseless men and women and children and animals who were not the enemy, and that the silence of America is deafening.

Today, I am so very sad that many young people don’t even know about the Enola Gay and the mission of its crew. And I am so terribly ashamed that the war we have just waged has been so devoid of the reality of death and pain. They haven’t told us about the thousands of civilians they have killed. They haven’t shown us the devastation they have caused. They withhold the true numbers of our own military who die each day. They never mention the hundreds who have been terribly wounded. War is surgical and sanitized, they tell us, and a very effective way to liberate people. They speak to us as if we all were ten.

George W. Bush is not ten. He has announced to the world that he, as the leader of this great nation, has the right to use nuclear weapons once again. This time, he says, he has the right to char men and women and children and animals if he “suspects" their leaders of being a threat to us. He is not ten. He really isn’t. Then why is he so very happy? And why, please tell me, is he still smiling?

SIKH WOMEN AT BRISTOL GURDWARA FIND THEIR VOICE

These women's cry of "We're not going anywhere!" reminds me of an old Bob Dylan song:




Genghis Khan
He could not keep
All his kings
Supplied with sleep
We'll climb that hill no matter how steep
We still ain't goin' no where
Whoo-ee! Ride me high
Tomorrow's the day
My bride's gonna come
Oh, oh, are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair!



The Langar Hall, a really great website dedicated to the open discussion of all things Sikh, alerted me to this situation. Here are some Sikh sisters who seem to have found their voice! I do have a question, however. Why were the women late in registering to vote? Were they not allowed to register, did they not realise they needed to register, did they just not bother to register, or was something else going on? I do notice that Jagbir Singh says

"This is the first year we have ever had women voting at the temple ..."

How incredibly shameful for a religion that is proud of its teaching of gender equality.

And what is it with all those mona Sikhs in that picture? I really want to see some turbans.

Clearly the factionalism that is so prevalent in our gurdwaras is at play in this situation. Do we really need to have shouting matches in public? (At least, it's better than those sword fights, a la Punjab.)How does this make us look to the public at large? When will we grow up?

From Mail Online:







Wednesday, August 06 2008
Riot vans sent to Sikh temple after women denied vote
By Daily Mail Reporter
Last updated at 2:18 PM on 04th August 2008


Dozens of police in riot vans were called to a disturbance at a Sikh temple - after women were denied the right to vote.

Trouble flared when 79 women were refused entry to vote in management elections at Bristol Sikh Temple on Sunday morning.

Worshippers began jostling each other and a pack of women surrounded a man's car and attempted to roll it over.


Police in riot vans were called to a disturbance at Bristol Sikh temple - after women were denied the right to vote

Six riot vans were dispatched to close the road in Fishponds, Bristol, and one man was arrested and cautioned for a public order offence during the seven-hour stand-off.


Voting finally finished at 4pm and resulted in three women being voted onto the management committee for the first time in the temple's history.


Shopkeeper Paul Mathew , 52, who runs J and V Fine Foods 50 yards from the temple said: "It was terrifying. There were skirmishes and people pushing each other.


"A man caused trouble inside the temple then it spilled out onto the street.


"Women were blocking his car and trying to push it over while he was still inside clinging to the steering wheel.


"It was very frightening. People were jostling and using threatening words to each other.


"Women were shouting abuse at men and they were retaliating but I couldn't understand it because it was in their own language." The dispute centres on two warring factions in the temple's 650-strong membership over whether women should take part in elections.


The situation came to a head when 79 women turned up to vote on Sunday morning.


Their opponents said they were not entitled to vote because they had not registered in advance.


Voting was due to start at 10am but it was delayed until midday when Chief Inspector Rob Dean of Avon and Somerset police arrived to mediate between the two sides.


One frightened elderly neighbour who watched the drama from her living room window said: "I saw a crowd of mainly women and children stood on one side of the road and men on the other.


"They were fronting each other up and shouting abuse across the road. The women were screaming 'we're not going anywhere'.


"It was really quite heated and there was a big scuffle of people that looked like it was going to turn nasty.


"There have been rows before that have spilled out onto the streets form the temple but never as big as this one."


The fracas ended at around 5.30pm and when votes were counted three female candidates Anita Kaur, Sheila Kaur and Narinder Kaur, were elected to the management committee for the first time.


Temple spokesperson Satjeevan Kaur said the election was an historical moment for Sikh women in Bristol.


She added: "We are going to be equal to men and to make decisions equal to the men.


Jagbir Singh, 51 from Horfield, is a committee member at the temple and has been involved with it since 1977.


He said: "This is the first year we have ever had women voting at the temple but now a lot of extra women have come down at the last moment, after the end of the agreed time period for registration.


"A lot of time and effort has gone into this and it's been done very fairly." Chief Inspector Dean said: "The elections were delayed for a variety of reasons and we have been involved in trying to help both parties through the negotiations.


"There are allegations of malpractice on both sides and our issue is to ensure that it doesn't come to violence.


"There are 650 registered members at the temple and, while this isn't an issue of the community against the police, there are two factions of the community here who can't reconcile their differences."

© 2008 Associated Newspapers Ltd

05 August 2008

Mool Mantar

This is Harshdeep's rendering of the Mool Mantar from Rang De Basanti. Only the video on this one doesn't have the professional actors from the movie. Much nicer to watch.
And always perfect to listen to. I think this is the most beautiful version I have heard.


Except, of course, the one with my Dad, my husband and our son.






http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNb1efvF9J0&feature=related