Exactly a year ago, not everything ended well for Reeva Steenkamp, girlfriend of famous Paralympic Oscar Pistorius, the Posh and Becks couple of South Africa.
She was found dead in the arms of her love. Oscar looked shattered. Their place was a mess, his clothes blood-soaked, the bathroom door broken, her body riddled with bullets, cricket bats and guns lying around. The world was divided. Still is. Some say it was premeditated. Some say it was accidental.
I say it was sad. Sad for Reeva, Oscar, their families, friends. Sad for the ones who had to closely witness something so heart-wrenching on a day of love. Sad for the innumerable people who lost their inspiration in Oscar that day. Which man in his right frame of mind would premeditate the murder of his girlfriend in a manner he knew would point back right at him? And a man with Oscar’s courage and mental strength, which got him game ready to compete against able-bodied athletes at the Olympics, definitely has the right frame of mind.
But I am not defending him. He has lost a lot. And so has Reeva.
He his love. She her life.
Maybe love for Oscar will never be the same again. This day definitely won’t.
Maybe he will learn to live with what happened that day. With what he did. With the life he took away.
Maybe Reeva will forgive him for what happened. Maybe already has. Maybe he knows. Maybe he’ll come to terms with it.
A lot of maybe’s, a lot of hope, a lot of strength, a lot of empathy.
All through these years, I’ve never been in favour of belittling others or ridiculing others for their wobbly hold of the English language. Primary reason being, these people are aware of their weakness and are often trying to get past it.
However, in the past few days, I’ve come across mispronunciations and wrong usage of words, with such shameful confidence, I cannot help but put it down in the pages of social networking history!
I’ll cite the best of the lot:
— I heard a guy say on the microphone, while he was on stage, at the podium and in view of the entire audience, use the word important as an adjective for himself. Sadly, he silenced the letter ‘R’ in the word important. Rest, is up to you to understand!
— While explaining duties to volunteers at some event, one of the persons handling the event, said “Be benevolent to the guests.” Sounds good, doesn’t it? Not when you hear him say the same thing more than four times! Just using BIG words does not make you good at the language. Sometimes, words like respectful, helpful, cooperative also help.
— Then, he misses out the ‘damn’ from the phrase ‘any God-damn thing’. Although, I appreciate your willingness to not use the word ‘damn’ in front of women, the phrase ‘any God thing’, sounds a little more than incomplete.
— Saving the best for the last, where a guy used the word ‘eligible’ for (drum roll! Ta da ta da dum!) ‘liable’. So what he said was something like, “If anything goes wrong, remember you will be eligible for it!”
Need I say more, folks? Let’s keep silence for a minute, please. R.I.P English.
Yesterday evening, the God himself descended in Calcutta, armed with his instruments, the rains signaling his arrival and ceasing at his descent, darkness enveloping a crowd of thousands waiting for a mere glimpse, uproar at his first syllable, adrenalin rushing through the throbbing veins at the first hint of music. That was A.R. Rahman at Calcutta!
What happened on the stage in the next few hours was magic. Maybe see through at times, mesmerizing mostly. But what happened in the crowd around us was a different matter altogether. That too was just so out of the world!
Bang ahead of us was a couple who just couldn’t get enough of each other. She seemed to be eating all the time, attracting the bees-like-hawkers (who were allowed to roam freely in the entire stadium, selling everything from ‘cheeps’, lemon ‘peshaal’ signaling special lemon tea, cool water and badaam and were guilty of the criminal offence of interjecting the maestro’s music with their cries of product advertising!!). Her beau, oblivious to how much he was spending, couldn’t seem to get himself to concentrate on the stage, is all I can say.
One row ahead of us to our left, sat a trio of the most boring young guys I have ever come across. They didn’t clap for more than 3 seconds at a stretch, with gaps of at least half an hour between each such exercise. It almost felt like they had been punished and were made to sit through the entire event. Even if Rahman himself had come to them, they wouldn’t have uttered a cheer or enthusiastic hoot! I just hope they had free tickets to the show, because otherwise they’ve genuinely wasted their bucks!
And behind was a family with such levels of intelligence, I should have congratulated them. The boy was shouting to his dad for chewing gum in the middle of a sufi song when the whole crowd was swaying in the musical magic. Once, another one of them was completely unaware of the fact that it was their cell phone which was ringing loudly. And at one time when the sound fell really low due to some technical glitch for a few seconds, this man shouted from nearly the last row of the stadium “Raise the volume!”. Seriously, Sir? You really think the organizers can hear you from this far? His voice decibels barely managed to reach the next 15 rows of people, I think!
When Rahman played out his crowd-favourite Jai Ho!, this man next to me, stood in the attention stance. I wish he knew Jai Ho is NOT our National Anthem. He could have crooned it aloud and fist pumped the air a little. But alas!
It felt as if the people around me were saving all their enthusiasm for the Goddess Durga! ‘Cuz the other blocks in the stadium could definitely be heard on the stage!
That’s the other side of RahmanIshq!
Reporting directly from the stands, signing off for the day!