Why I Am Angry, Why I Am Protesting

I am angry because a woman got raped in a bus in the national capital.

I am angry because I am not a member of the privileged classes.

I am angry because I don’t matter.

I have no security cover.
I have no access to mining or transportation contracts from the government.
I don’t make enough money to buy a farm-house.

And you know what, I can live with all of the above.

I can’t live with police who think they are above the law.
I can’t live with a class of badly-behaved goons who think they are above the law because of political patronage.
I can’t live in a city where a large group of people think they can get away with murder or rape because they are related to politicians, bureaucrats or industrialists.

I’m fed up with a political class who don’t care about me because I’m not an important voter.

I’m fed up with politicians who hide in large bungalows, hob-nob with industrialists and insist on policemen following them around with guns to protect them from the people who elected them.

I’m fed up with news media and columnists who ask me for a coherent alternative, for a list of demands, for constructive dialogue. They expect me to trust politicians, to trust the police to do what’s right, to trust them.

I can’t think of a single instance where politicians have lived up to my trust, or the police have done what’s right and treated me with dignity. And why would I trust the media — their business model doesn’t allow them to take on powerful corporate or political interests easily.

What recourse do I have?

Elections don’t work because across vast swathes of the country votes are bought. Fat, corrupt politicians return to power because they use jeeps, goons and money to take voters to polling booths. I know, I’ve seen it happen.

I am angry because I know I don’t matter in this country — that it’s run by the privileged few for the privileged few.

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it.

I don’t matter.

I don’t matter because I’m not a vote bank — I live in a city. I don’t matter because I’m not rich. I can’t even pretend that I matter because I’m not a journalist any more — just another corporate drone.

I don’t matter because NOBODY represents me.

The cops aren’t there for my security, they are there to protect the powerful. The laws work when those in power have something to gain. When they lose, the law loses steam.

But, I want simple things:

To be allowed to live my life without restriction if I am not breaking the law.
To feel secure in the city I live in.
To see that my vote counts, that the taxes I pay count.
To know that the government I elect is there to serve me, and not themselves.

Is that too much to ask for?

1 thought on “Why I Am Angry, Why I Am Protesting”

  1. The educated youth and women have to become a new vote bank. A vote bank which drives new reforms from bottom up. NOBODY represents us because we have let that happen. Every time we don’t support a right cause, don’t raise our voices however small the wrong is and don’t treat our fellow countrymen equally irrespective of their religion, caste or status we will continue to sink deeper. This youth movement has to result in something positive.

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