Terror Sells Better Than Sex (Or, President Carter: Have You Seen “Kahaani”?)

The Goddess Durga Imagery…Vanquishing the Demon (only this time…extra-judicially)

I shall now try to prove that terror and terrorism sells better than sex. It does it both in the real world and make-believe world of “entertainment.”

In fact, I would argue that in post-9/11 copy America and clone India, sex is condom’ed up and commonplace, and therefore boring (like, it’s so predictable!). On the other hand, terror is like unsafe sex and thus unpredictable and more “fun.” Terror and terrorism is dangerous, scary and highly ticklish. In fact, it’s a hair-raising, high ‘rousing experience.

That is, if you are a president, or into media and film making. That is, if you know how to get political profit or plain, oldfashioned money profit out of terror.

I shall write briefly here about a new Indian movie named “Kahaani.” But before that, I want to talk about President Jimmy Carter, the 39th president of the United States.

Carter wrote a scathing op-ed in the New York Times today, June 26, 2012. He wrote:

“The United States is abandoning its role as the global champion of human rights.”

He went on:

“Revelations that top officials are targeting people to be assassinated abroad, including American citizens, are only the most recent, disturbing proof of how far our nation’s violation of human rights has extended. This development began after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, and has been sanctioned and escalated by bipartisan executive and legislative actions, without dissent from the general public. As a result, our country can no longer speak with moral authority on these critical issues.”

He is Definitely One of a Kind…Unlike Some Other Nobel Peace Prize Winners (you know who they are)

One final segment I want to quote from the Carter column:

“While the country has made mistakes in the past, the widespread abuse of human rights over the last decade has been a dramatic change from the past. With leadership from the United States, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was adopted in 1948 as “the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.” This was a bold and clear commitment that power would no longer serve as a cover to oppress or injure people, and it established equal rights of all people to life, liberty, security of person, equal protection of the law and freedom from torture, arbitrary detention or forced exile.

The declaration has been invoked by human rights activists and the international community to replace most of the world’s dictatorships with democracies and to promote the rule of law in domestic and global affairs. It is disturbing that, instead of strengthening these principles, our government’s counterterrorism policies are now clearly violating at least 10 of the declaration’s 30 articles, including the prohibition against “cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.” “

You can read the entire Carter op-ed here: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/25/opinion/americas-shameful-human-rights-record.html?src=me&ref=general .

“Get’em!”

So, President Jimmy Carter is talking about America’s so-called War on Terror, and blasting the U.S. administration — the current Obama administration — for its extra-judicial killings and tortures worldwide. He is drawing particular attention to the numerous, lethal U.S. drone attacks in Pakistan and the indefinite detentions and physical and mental tortures at the Guantanamo Bay prison camp.

Now, what does it have to do with the Indian flick “Kahaani?”

Here’s a gist for the movie. Kahaani — in Hindi it means a story — talks about a terror attack in my birthplace Calcutta (Kolkata) where an evil terrorist has used a toxic gas on the subway train to kill hundreds of innocent people (Heavens forbid!), and disappeared. Indian secret service has failed to hunt him down. A young, pregnant woman lost her husband in that attack, and in a fascinating, clandestine, personal jihad (forgive my word choice here), comes to the city from London, befriends, uses and exploits India’s hostile police force and cruel secret service, and finally finds and captures the primary terrorist and kills him in broad daylight. Then she disappears too.

Turns out a number of high-level secret service officers were involved in the terrorist attack who also hired a contract killer later to silence anybody investigating the case. The contract killer indiscriminately kills any help to this poor woman; the woman on the other hand finds her own way to kill or have killed all the terrorists and their accomplices.

Kahaani is a new sensation in India — a super hit!

My question is this: if the U.S. government can justify its extra-judicial killings of perceived terrorists, with no regard for the 1948 international human rights laws President Carter talks about, and in particular, if it can use its self-styled, post-9/11 War on Terror as the justification for the killings, then why would India and the people at the seat of power not use the same justification to kill its perceived terrorists indiscriminately, without any regard for the laws and any due judicial process?

Sure, one is real life and the other is just “fun and entertainment,” but what about the enormous influence this hugely popular entertainment has had on young Indian minds? Or, am I talking rubbish? Okay, ask Center for Constitutional Rights lawyers. (Or, Amnesty, ACLU, HRW, etc.).

In Kahaani, the woman (who pulled the biggest surprise at the end of the movie — which I would not divulge just to give some credit for the director, actors and the cinematography and of course, my city of Calcutta) absolutely vanquished the main terrorist, took his gun away and had him in a position of total surrender; yet, she pumped five extra bullets in to kill him when she could easily have handed him over to the police force chasing after them and were just ’round the corner.

Personal jihad — didn’t I use the term before? Like, go for it, girl! (I have a feeling she — Vidya Balan — would get the best actress award this year for the role she played.)

In the movie poster, she is actually likened with the Hindu Goddess Durga who in a holy armed battle, vanquishes the demon. Some critics have likened the woman in the movie as a new symbol of Indian feminism. Why not? Anything goes! Anything sells!

Soft-hearted Indian Cop…and…Ruthless “Feminist” Killer (and it all sells!)

See, I could’ve talked about the graphic nature of violence, and the new fab kid of Indian movie the gun (NRA would be ecstatic only if they believed in globalization!), in a typical movie review. In fact, someone must talk about the horrific justification of broad daylight killings and validation of semi-automatic guns — and that too — in a progressive city of Calcutta where even today, the average person resists violence and extrajudicial killings: they’ve seen enough!). I could’ve talked about the disturbing, terrifying imitation of Dirty Harry and Taxi Driver type blood-splattering violence used in the movie. In fact, someone should do it.

But I’m really emphasizing on the extra-judicial killing aspect that was used so abundantly in the film, mainly because to my knowledge, nobody has challenged it from that point of view. Indian movie industry has recently made a number of such films where judicial due process has been actively and purposefully ignored and excluded from people’s minds. And all these movies used terror and terrorism as the premise and justification for the extra-judicial killings. See A Wednesday. It’s just one example.

All of these movies and their directors and stars became overnight sensation. All these movies made huge box-office hits. The producers made millions.

The U.S. self-styled War on Terror is now copied and followed with every sincerity in a country like India. Indians have now accepted McDonald’s, KFC and Pizza Hut with religious devotion. They’ve accepted Monsanto and Union Carbide. They’ve accepted Wal-Mart and GE. They’ve surrendered to IMF with complete unquestioning — the Indian way.

They’ve now also accepted the principles and practices of U.S. War on Terror, where the state and its contract officers are instructed and allowed to torture and kill any perceived terrorists — no questions asked. You believe he is a terrorist? Okay, go finish him, now!

President Carter perhaps doesn’t know much about “Kahaani.” I’d strongly recommend that he watch it.

If he did, he’d know that in today’s India, terror sells better than sex. Just like in today’s U.S., terror sells better than anything else — especially in an election year.

That’s the ultimate writhing, moaning, panting-pleasure climax.

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York

Contract Killer Throws Pregnant Woman Under Subway Train (It’s just fun entertainment, man! Don’t break a sweat!)

“Those Lazy American Workers! Parasites!”

For those who need more clarification about this blog below (especially after some questions I got about my purpose to write it — with the “dirty” words and everything): the point of this article is that, this is how many otherwise decent people (because of stereotype in the media and their own prejudice without first-hand knowledge) paint poor workers, even though these workers keep the economic machine running day and night, and the privileged (such as me) take advantage of their hard work, sweat and blood, and often behind-the-scene, 24/7 efforts. Very few of us appreciate what they do for us, and how they do it. This slant, ridicule and denigration now turned out to be a global phenomenon: work and workers are generally looked down upon. Media especially here in the U.S. rarely paint a positive picture about our workers and their enormous contribution. They are almost always taken for granted. Their hardship, pain and struggle are rarely mentioned.

This post is a response to the name calling and stereotyping — written with a sarcastic flavor. I do not ever want to hurt the feelings of these workers, their families, or anybody else. I apologize if somebody gets hurt: it could be my wrong word choice. But I wrote it this way on purpose — to drive a point home.

I have worked with American workers for many years now. All I wrote here is from real-life experiences I gathered in bits and pieces at various places and opportunities to meet, teach and work with these unsung heroes.

______________________

Can You Believe that? Geez…!

-One-

I met a bunch of American workers. Lazy, illiterate, fat, foul-mouth, stinky American workers.

Those parasites! No work and big pay. Lifelong life support by our no-good big government.

I didn’t spare no words. I gave them a mouthful.

I said, “Hey! Come! Look at this photo (worker in hard hat taking a nap on his tractor). This guy is sleeping on the job. And that too, on his CAT.” I said, “I mean, how stupid this jerk is! Would you believe! He could be squashed and killed between those big wheels.”

I said, “this guy is what you are all about, you know? Lazy. Idiot. Illiterate. Don’t get it between good and bad. Don’t you see?”

They didn’t protest for once. Good, I said. How could they protest? What could they say? They didn’t say a word. Ha! What can they say, I said. They were busy eating their lunch. One guy even finished his bologna sandwich and coke, climbed up his pickup truck, and lied down by a bunch of garbage-filled plastic bags — on a piece of plastic — with his stupid, dirty jeans on. Another guy got into his parked Ford Taurus, and started takin’ a nap in the back seat. He started snoring after just half a minute, right in front of my eyes!

So uncivilized, I said. Not only they’re lazy and stupid, but they got no manners too! They’re snoring in public!

Lazy! Fat! Overeaten! Overdrunk! Can’t do no job without taking a big break.

And do you know how much money they earn? A big, fat bundle. I didn’t ask, but I know they make big bucks.

I know they’re all overpaid.

I also heard that they wake up everyday at 4 A.M., get out to work at 5, and in the evening they even go to school. Some labor college, they said. And their union pays for their college. See, that’s the other problem. Why do you waste so much time going to some no-name college? I know many of us didn’t go to college. We’re doing okay. Why can’t you?

Wake up at 4? Why? Like, is there a special reason you need to get up so early? You don’t show up to work until 9. And then you take a break at 12…and take a nap too!

And think about these rich, fat unions? Think how much money they have! No wonder they have so much power. Money and muscle. Isn’t that what American labor unions stand for? All fat liars and crooks.

Makes me sick!

___

No Wonder People Make Such Cartoons! There’s a Reason.

-Two-

Those stupid plumbers. Man, they smell so bad! And they tell such filthy stories.

I saw them once. And I saw them all. Man, these people are really dirty! And oh yes, they’re really stupid.

I knew it all along.

So, I met a bunch of plumbers in Long Island City, Queens, and in ten minutes into meeting them, I know why people do such cartoons about’em. I mean, look, there’s a reason for it. They tell such filthy stories and say such filthy jokes!

And they smell so bad! Now, why in the world do those plumbers smell so bad especially when they’re on the job?

Like, just ten minutes into our meeting, one guy started telling his buddies how they were forced to work on some Goddamn thirty seventh floor of some Goddamn Manhattan building with no bathroom anywhere, and they were on an emergency twelve-hour shift, and they had to pee in a bucket. And then the other guy said he saw a coworker shitting in a plastic bag and stuff! I mean, WTFH, don’t they have no shame? He said there was no bathroom, the water was turned off for their big plumbing work, and the elevator was shut off, so they had no other choice.

I said, oh, man! I said, no man!

I said, yeah right! So, why don’t you stop overstuffing yourself with so much food and drink so much Heineken on the job? I mean, if you knew there would be no proper place to pee, why do you have to keep drinking your booze all the time?

They said they didn’t drink beer on the job. But I knew they were lying in a straight face. They drink, they smoke, and they do stuff you can’t even imagine!

These people were not just foulmouthed, smelly plumbers, they were big liars too.

No wonder people have such bad impression about American workers. Just look at the cartoon. You’ll know.

I saw a handful. And I saw them all.

And, why would people go into that stinky plumbing job in the first place?

___

-Three-

Are They Going on a Mars Trip or Something? Huh!

Asbestos Removal: What Bullshit!

I then met a bunch of asbestos guys. Man, what bullshit they give you 24/7. As if your life depends on their stupid asbestos abatement! I just laughed and laughed hearing their crap.

So, they dress up like astronauts…you know…the guys landing on the moon and stuff! I mean, just look at them…don’t they look funny!

They said they were removing asbestos flying in the air in some old, dilapidated building in East Brooklyn. Now, why in the world do you have to wear those stupid clothes? And what are those on your face…are you ghostbusters or something? Gosh, don’t get me started!

They said asbestos was so dangerous that unless removed properly, it could cause lung cancer and all…in your lungs. You can cough blood doing asbestos work. And you can like…die. Yeah, right! So, wear a white filter paper cap on your face and cover up your nose. Worried about your hair? Cover it up! Use a pair of rubber gloves. Don’t talk while your work, right? Nothing can get in unless you breathe it in! Take a shower when you get back home.

Simple!

See, this is how they really jack up the price tab on the employer and then force them to buy those fancy suits and masks and stuff. Respirator, negative pressure pump, HEPA filter, three-layered plastic, loads of duct tape, helmet, amended water and all those expensive items. Then, the special landfill. I mean, gimme a break. I know what you’re doing: you’re blasting your employer and your contractor with a huge bill. And then you’ll charge us big bucks too. Don’t think for a moment we don’t get that.

I know how you do it, make big money, and then get those pols to pass laws to save your little white, black or brown asses. I mean, who cares about what the employer sacrifices for you? Nobody!

How many people actually died of asbestos black lung…just tell me?

Many? Thousands? Since when? Where?

Here in the U.S.? Cananda? China? India?

Not here in the USA, no siree. Not here. We always took good care of our workers.

And they never complained too. And never showed us those OSHA, EPA and HEPA stuff.

Enough is enough!

Parasites. No work. Lazy. Big breaks. Stupid jokes. Still get lifelong support by our no-good, big government.

And the illegal aliens? They’re the worst.

I’ll tell you more stories later.

###

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York

The Worst Parasite, Ever! Killing Our America!

This is Laughing Matter 2. Or is it?

-Laugh 2-

Or, you don’t. It’s your choice.

My Insignificant Personal Stories

I’m going to tell you three of my own, honest-to-God, real-life, personal, New York City stories of live-together with racism and stereotype. Or, you can call it something else. It’s your choice.

I simply titled it Laugh 2 because I called the most recent story I told you Laugh 1. These three stories are so dry, down ‘n dirty, straightforward and unfunny that you might start suspecting my basic literary prowess. Heck, I seriously doubted it myself when I went through those little experiences; in fact, when they happened — one event at a time with a gap of a couple of years in between — the only thought that came to my mind was how to save my little brown Indian butt, and go home with a non-disfigured face (or in one instance, go home at all).

And I didn’t laugh.

I just thank God I did not become a post-9/11 FBI or NYPD statistic of hate-crime victims (or in one instance, a permanently disappeared U.S. citizen). I just hope and pray to God that, however insignificant my scare was compared to the grotesque, horrific, nightmarish and bone-chilling experiences so many people I know have gone through, none encounter experiences even as small as mine. I don’t know about you the rough, tough and diehard, man, I nearly peed in my pants. And a grassroots, 9/11 community organizer turned immigrant and labor advocate, I am not particularly known as a wimp.

How do I rank these stories? There is no way I could do that. So, like they write experiences on the resumé with the most recent cited first, I’m going to tell you my stories with the most recent one first. Is it the most stand-out one? Not sure. I leave it up to you to decide on the poignancy indicator of it.

Let’s just cut to the chase. I’ll be brief.

Scare 1

NYC subway on police watch

So, about this time last year, on one late morning on a slow, sunny, early fall day, I was waiting on a downtown NYC subway platform for the E train. I was going to college to teach an afternoon class. I had my trademark brown backpack on my brown back, I had a light jacket on, and I also had my hands in my coat pockets.

A woman — she was likely watching over me for some time — walked up to me, just before the train arrived. She smiled strangely at me, and said, “You’re not carrying a gun on you, are you?” Then she gestured at my hands in my pockets, and smiled again, as if she actually had doubts if I was carrying a hidden gun.

I was so surprised by the suddenness of it that I didn’t know what to say. First I thought she was just joking, however bad and stupid the joke was. But then I realized she was serious. The train came and she and I boarded the train; I now felt quite annoyed that she kept looking at me and my brown skin and my “Islamic-terrorist-looking” face and beard (she didn’t know I was an American Hindu, involved with the American peace movement, and preached global non-violence all my life). I realized she was quite nervous by the possibility that either my backpack or my jacket could indeed carry a gun. And then she walked up to me and repeated her question: “You don’t have a gun on you, do you?”

I had a little interaction with her after that — a non-violent one — and it was lucky I only had one station to ride on the E train. But that one-station, three-minute ride was more than enough. It was pretty long.

I am not CNN or Fox or some tabloid paper, and I don’t mean to make too much of a big deal out of it. But I’ve actually thought about the incident quite a bit afterwards, and in hindsight, I believe it could’ve been much worse under a slightly different set of circumstances.

Think about the incident happening on a Greyhound bus or maybe, a commuter train (I’m excluding airplanes because they’d have body scans and all). I very likely “look like an Islamic terrorist” with my brown skin and pronounced beard based on the profiling and flagging they’d had on countless innocent Muslims, South Asians and Arabs since 9/11. What if this crazy woman walked up to me there, challenged me if I had a gun in my backpack (remember my NYPD-NYCLU bag search lawsuit story?), and then perhaps called the “see-something-say-something” police? I know people who were picked up by the police and FBI and other law enforcement on such charges by “responsible American citizens.” I also know of at least one real-life story a young Sikh friend from New Jersey told me where a busload of Americans started heckling him on his way back home from Philadelphia, called him Osama, and followed him off the bus to the public bathroom, and threatened to beat him up black and blue.

Any of the above could’ve happened to me. That was really the scary part.

Glad in this case, it was “small and significant.” And I came back home in one piece to report it on Facebook the same night.

Funny? Not funny?

___

Scare 2

(to be continued)

The Non-Lessons of Nine-Eleven

What Lessons Did We Learn?

-One-

The Premise

It’s a simple thought. In fact, it’s a very simple thought. I’ll tell you what it is. Just give me twenty…thirty seconds.

The thing is, when I launched this blog some two weeks ago, I promised to my readers and friends, and also to myself, that I shall write about heartfelt, honest feelings; I said I’d write about life and love — in a soft, toned-down way. I did it as best as I could; honestly, I didn’t worry how many people read my posts, or whether or not my simple messages reached the five senses of the people higher up: those who could make a difference. Out of their five senses, I knew I could never pierce their remarkably thick skin; so I didn’t even try it.

But the pleasant surprise was that more than twelve hundred people read my blog in just over two weeks — something that never happened to me in my relatively new life of an activist writer. I was gratified to know that a large number of people still did care: very likely, they cared about the transparency and real-life, raw emotions I’m trying to pass on to them.

They agreed that it was indeed a matter of the heart.

I’d like to take a moment to thank you all for your interest in what I have to say. With your support, I hope to continue saying it.

So, now, what is that simple thought? What does it have to do with the present topic?

I posted a question on my Facebook page two days ago. It was this: “Are we more educated, informed and mature — can we now save more lives and human dignity?”

It was not a rhetorical question. It was not an academic question. It was not a question about any particular country either — U.S. or India, the two countries I know. I asked that question taking into account the evolution of human race, if we can measure it in such a short time, since the terrorist attacks and their aftermath global un-democracy, violence and war.

I have actually thought about it quite a bit. But I wanted to know from my friends who I thought would want to address it too. Some of the responses I got were as follows:

(1) “If “we” means Americans, the answer is a flat and emphatic NO..”

(2) “How come we need to be ‘more educated, informed and mature’ to save more life?”

(3) “”More”… relative adj. “More” than what/who/when??? As to whether we can now save more lives and dignity? I believe we can. Whether we do or not is another question entirely.”

Okay. Fair enough. People have different ways to express themselves, and sometimes without knowing it, people take a superficially different point of view when they’re actually in agreement with each other (believe me!). Sometimes I feel that through my writing, I’m raising debates on one hand (and making people uneasy and uncomfortable that way…sorry about that); and on the other hand, I’m playing the role of a moderator of the debate so as not to let it out of our hands. After all, if we can’t agree on things we so deeply care about, even within our own circle of friends, then how in the world are we going to impress them upon the others who do not know us and have every right to pay no attention?

_________

-Two-

Cliches and Cacophony

The terrorist attacks of September 11 killed 3,000 people, and changed our lives forever — yes, that’s a cliche. Don’t tell me I’m not being respectful to the innocent lives lost on that day; if you do, adios amigos, I’ll see you next time. (By the way, I just found out that the labor unions I work with lost 17 of their members: half of them doing construction and electrical work that morning on the 105th floor of the North Tower).

The terrorist attacks of 9/11 gave global war mongerers great ammunition to pursue their global fascist agenda — yes Das Capital’ists, Kritik der politischen Ökonomie, we’ve heard you.

There are many real-life stories that media did not tell us — stories of how thousands of ordinary, innocent people fell victims of a repressive regime, and either perished in jail or got deported. — See, this is somewhat less known, but not that completely unknown now, thanks to the 24/7 hard work of hundreds of progressive organizations, lawyers and grassroots activists. And small, alternative media deserve credit too.

Muslims, Arabs and South Asians (including Sikhs) as well as other poor immigrants were target of heinous hate crimes, and some of them were brutally assaulted; a few of them actually died. — In case those big-name diversity, rights and justice groups did not tell you about it before, yours truly did it already, a number of times over. Reading his blog for the first time today? Welcome. Just flip through some recent posts.

So, what is new? What is NOT news yet?

_________

-Three-

Talk to Your Heart

Again, because I promised my blog this time around would be simple, soft and succint, I don’t mean to make it a long-winded, complex, lawyer’s argument, even though I put it out for my jury to release their verdict on it (FYI, as of today, only my Facebook itself has 2800+ friends, and that number doesn’t even include my six cousins and three brothers in-law).

So, simply put one more time, “Are we more educated, informed and mature — can we now save more lives and human dignity?”

What do you think?

Q. Who provided the necessary education since 9/11 that taught us how to be tolerant and respectful to all men, women, transgenders, religions, atheists, agnostics, Sikhs, Muslims, Africans, Jews and Latino immigrants (especially those who still “look like a terrorist” even after they were forced by their “American” employer to shave off their beard)?

A. Like…nobody?

Q. Who provided the necessary information after-the-fact that if you built very tall, arrogant towers at the end of an island, and that too, without any common-sense safeguards to prevent them from airborne terrorist attacks, it’s likely that terrorists would take advantage of that illiteracy and egotism of the people in power, and try their best to destroy them? (After all, just like pickpockets and muggers, terrorists are constantly watching out for easy preys while the easy preys are not watching out for them?)

A. Like…nobody?

Q. Who gave us and our children the maturity lessons that would help us and our children to be a little more mature than believe that what is norm and acceptable in a high-school brawl situation does not really apply to global civilization, and that it’s neither norm nor acceptable to use phony stories and hearsays (like, Judith Miller’s WMD stories published in mighty New York Times) to attack a foreign country, kill thousands of innocent men, women and children, and destroy a five-thousand-year-old civilization?

A. Like…nobody?

Q. Human dignity…now that’s a complex question. Some of my Facebook friends might ask: “How come we need to be ‘more educated, informed and mature’ to preserve human dignity?”

Follow-up Q. In fact, what is human dignity?

We’ll save that question for the next post. Please consider the other simple clauses of this rather simple non-lawyer’s argument, and deliver your valued judgement. I wouldn’t mind a severe sentence…punishment…like…long-term imprisonment…in your thoughts. All my life, I’m looking for those flung-open, skylark-sung prison camps.

Didn’t I say it was a matter of the heart?

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York

###

Yours Truly

Turning Grief into Action for Peace!

9/11 Families for Peace!

In the wake of 9/11, media found frenzy interviewing families who lost their loved ones in the terrorist attacks. Media printed stories and aired interviews with 9/11 mothers, wives, sisters, fathers and brothers. They described heartbreaking accounts of a newly wed wife, or a soon-to-be wed fiancé, or an expectant mother. All were necessary stories: people in America and people all over the world came to know the harrowing details of the impacts of this grotesque barbarism.

Then, media moved on and began telling stories of some 9/11 family members who took up on a mass-manufactured political angle of the tragedies: they were vociferous for their support for revenge and the so-called war on terror. They expressed strong support for domestic repression and round-up of hundreds of thousands of innocent people who had absolutely nothing to do with violence or terror. Ashcroft’s USA PATRIOT Act came in handy; the phony Weapons of Mass Destruction story mass-cloned by Judith Miller and colonized media gave Bush, Cheney and Rumsfeld much-needed ammunition to justify mass murder thousands of miles away.

In the middle of this melee, a small, new organization started their work that nobody noticed. They named their new, under-resourced group September Eleventh Families for Peaceful Tomorrows. Through our activist work with New York Civil Liberties Union, I came to know some of these mothers, sisters and wives. I was blown away to see the unknown side of America.

I met Adele Welty, I met Valerie Lucznikowska, and I met Talat Hamdani. I came to know a whole new world. I came to know an America — one that nobody talks about, and nobody knows about.

Adele Welty

Watch YouTube here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-z10FNKnQ4

Adele Welty’s son Timothy was one of the firefighters who responded to the SOS from the burning World Trade Center on that fateful day. He and his colleagues went up Tower Two to save lives. City officials misdirected them, as they’d misdirected many others, and told them it would be okay to walk up the stairs of the burning building. Tim and hundreds of New York’s brave firefighters went in to pull the panic-stricken people out. In a few minutes, Tower Two crumbled to the ground like a pack of cards. I heard that Tim’s body was never recovered.

I met Adele the first time when I was speaking across New York City against post-9/11 hate crimes. At one such mid-Winter meeting at Columbia University compound, New York Civil Liberties Union’s Udi Ofer and South Asian American Leaders of Tomorrow’s Deepa Iyer — both activist lawyers — introduced me to a frail woman, still in mourning, perhaps in her sixties. Adele came to speak at that meeting, to show her support for peace and opposition against hate. I was overwhelmed to see her strength, courage and resilience. She spoke about her beloved son who gave his life to save others. She did not seek revenge. She didn’t believe in arrogant America’s “tooth for a tooth, eye for an eye” doctrine. Instead, with a few other 9/11 parents and widows, she joined the grassroots, progressive group.

For nearly ten years, Adele and her group became an important and active part of America’s humanity, working tirelessly to promote peace and oppose violence and war of any kind. Adele traveled to Afghanistan and Iraq many times when the war was in full swing, and spoke to government officials and peace organizations. Then she spent years crisscrossing the USA and, along with colleagues from Peaceful Tomorrows and other groups, met with senior politicians in Washington, D.C. Her group worked with us on the issue of human rights for immigrant workers and their children. On one trip to Washington (as the executive director of New Jersey Immigration Policy Network), I went with her to lobby U.S. congress members to support the DREAM Act, a pending law that would provide tuition benefits to children of undocumented immigrants – children who came to the USA with their parents at a young age, went through the American school system, passed high school, but now couldn’t attend college because of their immigration status. They didn’t know any other country; most of them didn’t speak any language other than English; they had been in America their entire life. Now their dreams and aspirations to go to college were dashed, and they didn’t have a clue about it beforehand; nobody had warned them. At that round of meetings in Washington’s Capitol Hill, I had a precious opportunity to interact with Senator Edward Kennedy briefly. We had a long meeting with his immigration staff. Senator Kennedy was one of the prime sponsors of the DREAM Act. His sudden death seriously pushed back the nationwide effort to pass the law.

I live in America not because of leaders like Clinton, Obama or Bush. I live here because of leaders like Adele Welty.

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

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Small 9/11 Stories

Small People, Small Tribute

-One-

Today, about two weeks before the tenth anniversary, I decided to start writing a few small things about 9/11, before the big, famous, not-so-big and not-so-famous took over the entire stratosphere. I thought my small, rather “insignificant” blips could be blipped now, before big media began their ga-ga tear-jerkers 24/7, in all likelihood from the Friday before the solemn Sunday observance.

After all, compared to what they have to say and for how long they have to say it, my blurbs would be quick, straight, and…did I say small? Only difference is, my otherwise non-noteworthy notes might be a lot simple.

You would have no problems getting them.

I do not ever want to trouble you with the details of that harrowing, fateful day; plus, the big guys and gals will give you so much gas that you would need half a box of Pepcid AC to digest it. And honestly, I’m glad they’ll give you the bloated details; because I have a lot of overlaps too: like, I truly believe, swear to God, that it was a barbaric and heinous criminal terrorist attack, it was a ghastly-cowardly act, it showed how people came together in New York and all across America to protect peace, and how it created global solidarity against hate, violence and terror.

I’m glad I don’t need to repeat the routine. In fact, I have no doubt the big and famous can do a better job on that front than I can.

I’d rather tell you a few personal stories — stories that some of you may have heard, seen or witnessed first hand. Some of you may have worked with me shoulder-to-shoulder in the aftermath of that terror, and these stories are perhaps all too known to you. Yet, in the vastness of the tribute to the 9/11 halo, so many small stories of small men and women have not been told well, or told at all, that I feel this tenth anniversary would perhaps be a good time to bring them back to life.

I also feel personally obligated, because a small chronicler that I am, these men and women have entrusted me one way or the other to tell their stories to the world, and I did my best to do it over the past ten years in bits and pieces, but never managed to do it in an organized, coherent way.

I hope that this new little blog would serve as a reservoir of these personal, small stories — for an eager and compassionate audience. Some friends have always insisted that I did it.

Please come back and visit us. I’ll ready the real-life stories for you — one personal story at a time.

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

August 29, 2011