Friday, October 23, 2015




There are different types writers that I have come across in my life. We used to have  a writer in our High school. He was designated as writer, as he was always seen writing. He was an old man, with a huge family to support. He was shaving once a week and might be washing his clothes every week. He could not afford a blade in the razor or a soap to wash clothes. Everyone in the school was intolerant with him as he was poor and was tasked to collect fee from students. He was also tasked with so many tasks that he was seen writing even after school hours and it was rumored  that he was reaching home late in the night to sleep drinking a glass of water without his children observing him sleeping without food and becoming intolerant. Headmaster was intolerant, teachers were, students were, their parents were. Poor guy, he could not tolerate his children too becoming intolerant. He did not return his writer post, as he would have been on the streets. So, he tolerated the public intolerance silently and retired. (This is a true story and the childhood impressions are still imprinted on my tolerant mind).

So too, we had a writer in our college too. He too was an old man with a big family to support. I do not know whether anyone has been intolerant with him. He was the most intolerant guy, I ever saw. Students were discussing that his poverty was behind his intolerance. 

I too was a prolific writer. Letter writing was my specialty. When I was Manager, I had the distinction of forcing the Regional Office to buy a dictionary, as the Regional Manager was unable to decipher what I meant by a sentence, whether I was abusing him or praising him. He grew intolerant, so too many of my executives and one fine day they threw me out of the Bank . Intolerance usually takes immediate revenge.

Like that we have many who write beautifully, who write without rest, who write to fill stomachs or who write to pull strings. 

About thirty five of them and counting, announced to returning the awards they pulled out of the magic man's hat as they grew too intolerant at the growing intolerance in the society. Do not ask me what is the difference between the writers' intolerance that they stop all kinds of tolerant discussion on the issues troubling their minds and return awards in an intolerant fit of anger and a man who stops all kinds of civilized, tolerant discussion on a subject of dispute and pulls his gun in a fit of intolerant anger. Gun has bullets, pen has ink. And this ink is used by politicians, authors and diplomats who love Pakistan more than India etc., to blacken their own faces to prove the growing intolerance in the society only now and never before. Till now, none thought of self-bulleting (A new word). This would have given Media more ammunition to bash all "righters" (New word).

Sahitya Academy, that has many intolerant moments in its 61 year old history, is new to this kind of intolerance on the part of the writers that were awarded awards and prize money. I have a gut feeling that none in the Academy ever read what they wrote. So they were confused and conducted a meeting and condemned all kinds of intolerance, may be, the intolerance of the writers too. We have to see what happens. 

But I have one premonition. There is a background for the premonition. I have read somewhere that every February, the Academy conducts a literary meet where all the award winners are invited. Suppose there are one thousand invitees. At present count thirty five of them will abstain. Their chairs at the meeting will be empty. The other nine hundred and sixty five invitees will pay due respects to the empty chairs in reverence to those absent this year. This goes on until the President arrives and states, "No! No! You are mistaken. They are only intolerant award returnees and do not read too much." At which, the nine hundred sixty five award returnees roll over floor laughing, at the faux paus. 

Now read this and enjoy.

One guy went to the bar and ordered three beers. The supplier supplied the beers. He gulped the beers one after the other fast. The supplier warned him that it would be fatal if he takes beers so fast. Then the guy told. "We are three brothers. One is in USA, the other in Australia and I am stuck in Ireland. While parting, we decided that we would take beers in the same fashion daily." This continued for months. Suddenly, one day he ordered only two beers. The supplier supplied the beers, he gulped them and while handing over the bill the supplier expressed condolences to the departed. 

At which the guy gave a shocking look, recouped his aplomb and laughed heartily. "No,", he said, "You are mistaken. All are safe. The only thing is I stopped drinking from today. The two beers are for my brothers".

Draw your own inferences. But do not grow intolerant and return my blog to me. I will not accept it back.