The Power of a Poster

“Grandma is not well. Can you come visit her?” the voice on the other end said. I took the next available flight from NY to the sleepy little town of Sangli in India.

“There are rumours about a riot breaking up,” My dad who had come to pick me at the airport told me. Now, my grandma lived alone in a ramshackled building located on the west side of the town. It was a small house with a bed room, kitchen and living room with cow-dung flooring. I reached her house and spent some time talking to her. All my relatives who were there to see Grandma were glued to the TV in the living room.

“Riots broke out between two communities last night. The communal clashes erupted over a huge poster during Ganesha festivities yesterday. Curfew has been imposed indefinitely,” the impassive reporter read out. Images of burning vehicles, people hurling stones at cops & Gods, the cops dodging them with their shields and the huge poster of Shivaji stabbing Afzal Khan followed. The town which always moved in slow motion had come to a complete standstill. Indeed, great heroes inspire generations that follow. Which were the two communities was anyone’s guess.

While people looted shops, burnt vehicles and killed people, I sat beside my grandma massaging her legs. She was bed-ridden for months now and she complained about numbness in her legs.

The breaking news flashed on the TV screen. The curfew was extended for 4 days and only people who wanted to get shot were allowed to venture outside. I had just one week vacation and my return flight was 4 days later. I had started worrying if I would make it.

In the evenings people came out on the roads and created and spread more rumors.

“Do you know 4 people were killed today?”

“It’s all a game of the politicians. The elections are nearing.”

“The cops. They let them do it. They watched in silence while their jeeps burned.”

“What does curfew mean?” a child asked his father. “4 days holidays beta. You can play Pokemon all day,” came the reply.

I could sense a never before seen excitement in the people in my neighbourhood. The sleepy little town had suddenly come alive. Their town was in the national limelight, but for all the wrong reasons. They spoke of curfews and riots with such fervor as if they never wanted to end it.

The next day more shops were looted. Vehicles and people of all types were burnt and killed. I wanted an end to all this madness for all obvious reasons. Most importantly, I did not want to miss my flight.

Link to the poster : http://tiny.cc/ghjrr