When the Aggressors ask you, Why so Aggressive?

There's a restaurant named Kwality in the city of Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh. Bhopal. It's the city where my dad grew up. Not where he was born, nor raised but where he grew up. Where he went to college, started his first job, organised his first action as an activist, built his first business, a network, a community, friendships. Bhopal is to him what LA is to me. These cities, they are our 'coming of age' stories. I was a little kid when we first visited the city but very aware of what the city meant to my dad. Very excited too, to be able to see it for my own self. Kwality, it was one of his places back in the day. We discussed the menu and placed the order. For the first time, I was about to try something called a spring roll and might I add, as the lover of spring my excitement raised even more. 

The little blue tea cup - a former resident of Bhopal.

The memory of that first visit. 

Here I was, a young girl, enjoying a family vacation, having a delicious little spring role (the memory of it's taste has yet to be bested, mind you) sitting in a table by the large window on the aisle seat when I saw a man who'd come in for lunch drop a stack of 100 Rupee bills as he got up to leave and not notice it. I was trying to get over my shyness about approaching a stranger to tell him he'd drop something valuable when I saw a waiter who'd come to clean the table scoop the money onto his tray and turn to leave in the same direction. I was not even ten. I had every hope, every faith, every kindness nature bestows on us all in my heart. So, I thought - good. This man will return the money to it's owner. 

In the carefreeness awarded only to children, I went back to enjoying my meal with the family. I didn't have the concept of time back then but sometime later while we were still enjoying ourselves but the meal was done, I saw the same man come back in a flurry and look everywhere with the restaurant's manager. I didn't hear what their heated conversation was but I deduced what might have happened. If you have met me in the past decade, you may be unable to fathom how shy of a human I truly am. But I wanted to help so I did what as a kid I could. I told my dad everything I had witnessed. He called the manger, told him everything. The manager asked if I might be able to point the waiter out if they where all lined up. I took a minute to think. To try and recall what the waiter looked like. In my memory, the facial features were very blurry but his hair was very light. Oddity when you grow up in a society where most people had dark hair. Enough of an oddity to have registered so I said yes. 

He lined them all up by the door that connected dinning hall to the kitchen. I was observing and fretting because what if I couldn't help? What if I couldn't identify the fellow? What if I pointed at the wrong person? But the universe did me a favour. I guess having been witnessed scared the waiter enough to confess. The guy got his money back and the manager got to salvage the restaurant's reputation. The manger came and told us about it and I felt relived. Relived that I didn't have to identify the person so no chance of getting it wrong. Relived that the man got his money back. And a little happy and proud and very embarrassed that I could help. My dad told me that if anything like this happens I ought to tell him and maybe we could correct it sooner. I simply nodded my head in affirmative. 

But you see, I thought the waiter would do the right thing. Why would you keep something that's not yours? When the man came back, I thought may be the waiter couldn't find him so couldn't return his money and would do so now. I thought people were like nature. Honest and pure. There for each other. 

A girl who knew at the age of three that she could never call the cops and had to rely on herself and her elder sister to keep each other safe until the parents got home because cops were less trustworthy than a robber when you were the child of a political activist, had that much hope. I never wore rose tinted glasses. But I gave humanity every chance. EVERY chance. I was a kid who observed a lot. Spoke very little. Didn't make so many stands. Didn't step up and just do it herself. Because, I gave 'adults' every chance. Those who always said the 'right thing' to actually do the 'right thing'. Much like the one mentioned above, these weren't complicated situation where one was in a paradox over what was 'right'. 

I am outspoken. I make a stand and won't budge. I am loud. I step up when perhaps I could've waited a little longer to give someone else a chance to step up. I apologize for none of it. Yes, it's not always a good thing. Yes, sometime my loudness can intimidate others into silence when they really did have something to say. Yes, maybe because I always stepped up other didn't. As I went through my late teens and early twenties, I had to recognize and learn from that. I learnt and am still learning, to help others have a voice without speaking for them when they don't want to speak up for themselves. Learning to create a space they feel safe enough in to step up, speak, and feel free. Learning to wait a little longer before I stand up for someone of something and hope they themselves might. That someone else might. 

Yes, when it comes to humanity and society, I am learning to hope again. Something I would never have to learn if you - as collective society - didn't shatter into smithereens in the first place. We all have our own wounds, and so have I. We shall all learn to heal ourselves, and so shall I. In doing so, I sincerely hope - there are children in the world 'we' will not destroy the trust and hope of, as 'we' become the speakers of our current society.