Tuesday, May 22, 2012

My Innocence Wronged


My innocence wronged

“Beauty is felt by heart, experienced by senses, trampled by corrupt and saved by love!!”

Note: The following story is loosely based upon some of my personal experiences. Other than the incident that happened at the “Indira Gandhi International Airport, New Delhi,” no person or event mentioned in the story bear any resemblance to any person or event, dead or alive, beyond the limits of fiction. It is a story which is not true even when it is! I guess, it is about a “Writer’s liberty” but a “Reader’s discretion”! Read it for entertainment.

It was a chilly January evening, the seventh day of the eighth new year of the twenty first century (2007). As the Toyota Qualis made its’ way from a sleepy but lovely town of Patiala to the national capital of India, sitting by the window side watching the dark scenery zoom past and way behind, I had big dreams in my eyes, innocence in my heart, hope in my mind and an enthusiasm and excitement that just about overpowered the strong pain of parting the loved ones. I was migrating to Australia, and come ninth of January I would be in Adelaide. It was pleasure mixed with pain, but all well worth the honest and best intentions I’ve always had in my heart for everyone. We reached New Delhi, and after an emotional farewell to my parents, brother and my favourite cousin, I entered the airport beyond the line any of my blood or friends could have followed me that day. The heart was heavy, but the zing in my feet unmatched.

Little incidents can sometimes have far reaching consequences, but nothing could be worse than an honest man punished for being firm on his principles. But for an ordinary man in a corrupt society, honesty is a curse to avoid with a ten feet pole. But then if everybody was to follow this principle, the world will no more be a place worth living in, will it be?

As I went through the baggage scan and checked my luggage in, I finally made it through to the immigration clearance counter. The queue was expectedly long, not because India is a huge population and because it attracts huge number of tourists and visitors, but simply because the “Indira Gandhi International Airport” is one of the busiest places in the world. You could be there to see off your friends and relatives, but just might end up getting pushed into a waiting plane by the massive crowd.

Anyway, I waited in the queue patiently for the officer to call me for paper clearance. I had my India passport ready with a valid visa for Australia, and a plane ticket. All this guy was needed to do was, screen my passport and cross check my background details to make sure I am not a wanted man absconding from the country. And surely enough, he did that. But India has been brought more shame on its’ face by the rampant corruption than by the traitors in the history.

“How did you get an Australian immigration?” he asked.

“I applied as a School teacher and I had the merit to clear their conditions for immigration approval,” I replied.

“Oh!” he quipped, “How long have you been a teacher for?”

“Five years now,” I replied.

“Government School or private?” he asked.

“Government school,” I replied.

“Have you resigned from your job or have you taken leave?” he asked.

“I have taken without pay leave as I don’t know how well I will be able to adjust,” I replied, “If things don’t work out, I will return.”

“Have you got a permission to leave the country?” he asked.

“I have informed my department and I am on without pay leave,” I replied.

“Show me a letter which says you are allowed to leave the country,” he stated.

I had a copy of my confirmed without pay leave for my records, bearing the details “Allowed to leave”, which was all that I needed for the records of Education department. I showed it to him but he had something else in his mind.

“I want to see a permission letter from your state’s Education Minister or Directorate Public Instructions,” he asked for something which is not even the least of the norms, his intentions clear, he wanted to create trouble. The only reason when a Government employee does such a thing is when he is interested in a bribe.

For an upright honest man who has never till date cheated or underperformed or been corrupt in his work, for a “Jatt-Sikh” who prefers fist-solution than a brain-teaser, I was incensed. But I still kept my composure and replied, “I’ve shown you all the record or permission I will ever get from my department.” For someone based in the heart of the district under whose jurisdiction my village school fell in, I had been doing all the official letters exchange between the school and the education office. I was a prominent force behind converting a sleepy village school into an almost modern school that competed neck to neck, not only with the private schools around the village, but whose students dared to challenge the might of students from model schools based in the district itself (my records and work I did in the school during my tenure there speak for themselves). And above all my mother had always been a teacher (retired as a senior lecturer, and was due for a promotion to Principle/headmistress when she retired this year) and I had learned everything about the way Education department works in my home itself. I knew everything about the “State Education Department”, how it worked and what sort of permissions you get, and above all, where and when you need to get permission. The officer was talking crap because all he wanted was a bribe, and we both knew it very well. It was not a part of his job to know if I had permission from my department in the first place.

When the corrupt officer insisted, I finally put him in his place, “I have a valid passport, the Australian Government has issued me a valid immigration; who the hell are you to question me?” I finally lost my temper, for that is the only way to sort out corrupt officials in India.

“I am the officer from home ministry and I can stop you,” he said something on these lines, I don’t remember exact words.

“If I miss my plane today dude,” I retorted emphatically, “You will not be left capable of working for any department in India. And I am well aware of what you are capable of and what your duty is. Don’t teach me!”

By this time the people in the queue behind had become impatient, and the officer working in the cabin next to him had also come over to his counter to have a look at the matter. The two murmured something to each other, I was handed back my passport and papers by the second officer, and was cleared to leave. Had I been in the wrong in any way and that officer had any real authority to stop me on the grounds he was talking about, after what happened there and what I had said, and the way I said it, there is no way in the world he would have let me go beyond that check point. This is all the proof needed to prove his corrupt intentions.

I moved on, trying best to calm myself down, but little did I realize what harm corruption can do to an honest man. My life changed after that one incident. That corrupt official, and perhaps his friend alongside, issued a false alert against my name to the Australian authorities, perhaps stating they had concerning information about my intentions and activities. The Aussie intelligence agencies had no reason not to be suspicious, for they had no previous information about me to trust me.

I arrived in Australia, an experienced teacher, an upright man, self-righteous and enthusiastic. An ordinary man, my dreams were small; a good job, then a good wife, then a couple of naughty kids. But alas, world is cruel only towards those who don’t harm it!

A spy was duly assigned to infiltrate my life, get all the information about me, and report anything suspicious, or else clear me. But then who says Government agencies only hire Einstein and Newton? If Governments can be run my morons and corrupt, what makes you think intelligent agencies are not made up of retards and differently-abled?

The individual I was assigned to had two things to check on about me; what were my real intentions, and what kind of a person I am so as to be allowed to undertake teaching work in schools where young girls study. The jerk failed miserably on both accounts. For someone who shares his heart and truth out with each and every friend of his, the mole couldn’t gauge the kind of person I was, even from close quarters. Perhaps these people have never known an honest and straightforward man like me (which is a statement in itself about the state of affairs and the kind of people who work in such an organization), so much so that my honesty must have felt fake and other worldly to them.

For a man who believes pre-marital sex to be a sin, who didn’t do it with the only girl he had a relationship with, who has never asked a girl again once she has refused him, do I like hot and sexy sixteen year old school girls in their miniskirts? Let me just put it this way, “I am not a paedophile!”

But for someone who had realized what was happening, I played a trick, a trick that will subsequently expose their game when the time comes.

But alas! My testing never ended. Thanks to the incapacity of their hired gun, it was decided that my teaching qualification had to be rendered redundant just in case, and also to make sure I am not free to fly to US and other nations once I get an Australian passport. For this they needed a chic to trap me and embroil me in some kind of a kinky scandal; a honey trap.

However unfortunately for them, I had already fallen in love with a girl. So the first job they had on their hands was to create a barrier between that girl and me. Luckily for them it didn’t cause them much of a headache as the girl, the nice human being that she is, turned down my overtures as graciously as she could have. That was the end of the story. However, not after an attempt had been made to malign the girl’s reputation in my eyes, details of which I cannot share, and perhaps never will.

As the time trudged along, I got over my feelings for the previous girl. A true optimistic, I was head over heels in love again, this time with a girl who changed not only my entire life, personality and beliefs, but who is going to be remembered as the idiot who made a choice that changed the future of the world. I kept my love for her secret from everyone until the time came when I had to see her the first time in person. The cat was finally out of the bag!

This time the spies had an advantage, and they abused it to the fullest. Not only they were intent on destroying my reputation but I was in love with a girl who was desperately looking for cheap publicity to promote herself all the time. While I was ready to die for her, she only saw me as a means to an end. I am sure it mustn’t have taken much of an effort on the part of my detractors, convincing her to connive! She was going to get the publicity, they were going to malign my name; my teaching career was going to be shredded on one side, and my wings were going to be clipped on the other. With an Australian passport I was free to enter and leave US at any time, any number of times in a year, which they didn’t want, due to their self created fears out of the false alarm on one hand, and an incompetent moron of an intelligence agent on the other. Wolves were scared of the vegetarian Lion!

Her instructions were clear and simple. She had to convince me she had feelings for me and make me follow her around and finally visit her place, all this without leaving a trace of an evidence against her name. It was made amply clear to her not to turn me down ever, for now they knew if she did so, I would never contact her again. They were hoping that my frustration at her misleading but enticing behaviour followed by a shock revelation that she doesn’t even know me would upset me enough to make me lose my calm and react violently. Cameras had been installed to capture the moment of my downfall, witnesses and help were ready inside the house, only the party never happened.

For a man who abhors violence, who believes tolerance is a gift to be shared and spread for it to grow, who respects girls, their wishes and freedom, who was brought up strictly by his mother and teachers to respect women and elders, to respect girls; they failed to figure out a simple truth in their calculations, “I was never going to resort to violence, least of all for a girl, and against a girl!”

Their sick attempt failed and fell flat, so left with no choice they misused every possible statutory authority they could have enjoyed in their legal capacities, and tried to create evidence against me. Unfortunately for them, a qualified Forensic expert, that too one of the best in the business, I slapped evidence after evidence on their filthy faces, and everyone who was a part of their shenanigans ended up getting entangled.

Left with no choice, they stooped to their lowest levels and tried their best to harass me, to shut me up, to stop me from fighting for justice. Unfortunately for them, they have started what is beyond their powers to stop now.

Today as I sit here writing my story to share it with everyone, I have no dreams in my eyes, a heart made of stone, a ruthlessness in my mind, and an anger and determination that are way more overpowering than any softness I ever had in my heart! My innocence is long dead!


Fatal Urge Carefree Kissing “Amanpreet Singh Rai”