So, here I am after another disappearance. I am guessing there's no need for long explanations-- most of you know that i had an eye surgery about ten days ago, so i was out of action for a while. Back again, little by little now.

After surgery, i slept straight for 4-5 days, really, i have no track of time, of when i awoke, when someone called, nothing... those 5 days are a complete blur. Just as well, because i wasn't awake long enough to be in too much pain! The next five days were more interesting (OK, that depends on what you consider interesting!) because i was awake but unable to do much except lie around in a dark room, periodically popping pain meds. No, that's not my idea of fun either before you ask, but it was interesting because it became a sort of forced reflection time... time to think about so many things that i would never otherwise bother with. As a result, this is likely to be a very disjointed blog entry, with random little bits of thoughts from the last few days.

First, I felt like Rip Van Winkle when I awoke... the world changed so much while I was sleeping! The Mumbai attacks were still underway when i went into surgery... it had already been a nightmarish couple of days in front of the television, with scenes that looked more like war than terrorist attacks (a bomb blast is one thing; 50 hours of sustained gunfire and grenade attacks is another). Anyway, that's how things were when I went to bed after my surgery. When I awoke, i could only hear war-mongering. So-called solidarity marches one week after the attack descended into little more than cries to go to war against Pakistan. I lay around in bed, feeling helpless but amazed at the sheer stupidity of even thinking about another war between two openly nuclear states... over and above the madness of thinking that such a war would end terrorism anyway. Then I heard people hailing Guantonomo Bay and the Iraq War as models of how to fight terrorism, pointing out that the USA had never suffered another attack post 9-11. Gosh, i don't even know where to begin answering that question... having lived in a college campus in the USA for a few years, i had naively begun to believe that everyone acknowledged the erros of Iraq... clearl, i was wrong. And the two situations-- America's and India's-- are so different in so many ways that any comparison, either in terms of situation or possible responses-- feels totally futile. Really, what is common between the way 9/11 happened and the way the Bombay attacks took place, except for the fact that we have placed both under an arbitrary category of terrorist acts?

Speaking of which, I had an interesting conversation with some of my students about what constitutes terrorism anyway. Significantly, none of them talked about the actual loss of life as much as they talked about violence specifically aimed at creating a sense of fear and hatred, creating panis and insecurity, in the minds of people far beyond those directly affected by the violence. When asked why, then, we call these acts "terrorism" but don't use that word for Hindus raping and murdering Christians in Orissa, they shrugged, then finally said "I guess it's because we are hypocrites." Yes, I guess so.

Except, where does that leave us? Now we have not one but mulitple perpetrators of terrorist activity in the country. How do we respond, and where do we turn? The answers are unlikely to be easy and will definitely not be immediate, so let's leave the questions open for now. Perhaps the quest to answer them will itself prove to be the answer.

And, while all these events were disturbing the wrold and the country, i lay in bed, almost unaffected... that felt strange, felt WRONG, but there it was. Ot affected me all emotionally, yes, but still it felt wrong to be able to go on with life as usual in the midst of all that. Besides, life was not usual... i was recovering from surgery and had other stuff to worry about, stuff that seemed petty in comparison and yet stuff that was hugely important.

One of which was love. Amidst all the hatred and cynicisim that, I think, was eating at all our hearts, i was receiving message after message of love an friendship from all over the world. Expressions of solidarity with people in India. Expressions of concern from classmates who weren't sure which part of India I live in. And then of course, expressions of live and support in light of the health crisis in my personal little corner of the world. When I finally did get to my email and facebook after a week's post-op break, I found beautiful messages from some 25-30 friends, all in different parts of the world, literally messages from all 6 inhabited continents. It was one of those moments when you see so much hatred amongst peoples and cultures, thn see so much love amongst other peoples and cultures, and choose which you will believe in. I choose to believe in love, perhaps it is a desperate hope rather than a belief, but i must believe in it.

I'll close this entry here now, but in truth it hasnt even begun to detail all of this week's reflections. More soon, I hope.