While I was on my vacation, I got a temporary cell phone. I got a call asking for Sam (my cousin in high-school). I told the kid on the line that Sam's phone was with me and he could contact him on his home phone. He did not seem to like the idea of calling him on the home phone. He asked again if he could talk to Sam. I found something fishy. So I asked him his name. He said - Oomar Abdullah (note the double 'o' in Oomar :P). I told him yet again that Sam can be contacted on the home phone and if there was something urgent I could pass on the message to him.
Cut-to
Village in Maharashtra. Farmers are committing suicide. Completely helpless. All the produce from the farms has to be given to the zamindaar. The zamindaar's family is taking away almost everything from the farmers. They are squeezed for the last drop of their blood. I plan a scheme with the farmers and tell them how they should revolt. They should not give all their produce to the zamindaar. Instead they should load it in a truck and take it to the cities. I have a good network, so I could help them with the distribution in cities. But the zamindaar is very strong. They wont be able to hide the produce in the truck. There was something that struck me. It is election time! And the home minister is arriving in the village. The zamindaar would be busy preparing for the visit. I tell them that we can use this as an opportunity.So as per the plan, on the day of the visit, we start loading the truck. The zamindaar and his folks are busy at the function. The truck is loaded and we are about to leave. Just then someone calls me - "Reshma...". I see that a villager is calling out. He tells me that the home minister wants to see me. I'm perplexed. Why would the home minister want to see me? He doesn't know me. I don't even belong to the village. The worst part is that, the truck wont leave without me as the poor farmers have no idea what to do with it in the city. I have to be with them. However, I will have to see the home minister.
I go to the function. Now this home minister, is a very smart man. He looks very well educated in his white starched kurta and his speech in eloquent Hindi is making the villagers applaud every 5 minutes. I wondered if the villagers got any bit of what he said. They were probably just clapping on the cue they got from zamindaar.
After the speech, the home minister meets a chosen few. As he talks to us about his plans if he wins the elections, I realize that we have been split into 3 different groups by the home minister. The first group of people is the village intelligence service. The 2nd group, which I'm a part of, is a group of spies. Yes, I'm a spy from an Is---ic country. It felt as if we are playing mafia. All the mafias know each other but the poor villagers are clueless. The Home Minister....He was the coordinator! HE KNEW EXACTLY WHO WE ARE. He came there to tell us that, I reckon. Sitting in the group, I start thinking how it all began....
Flashback -
Once when I was a kid, I remember my sister came back from school, crying. She was teased by some guy on her way back home. I was furious.
The alarm went off....it was 7:30 AM on a Saturday morning....Weekend began!!!
Cut-to
Village in Maharashtra. Farmers are committing suicide. Completely helpless. All the produce from the farms has to be given to the zamindaar. The zamindaar's family is taking away almost everything from the farmers. They are squeezed for the last drop of their blood. I plan a scheme with the farmers and tell them how they should revolt. They should not give all their produce to the zamindaar. Instead they should load it in a truck and take it to the cities. I have a good network, so I could help them with the distribution in cities. But the zamindaar is very strong. They wont be able to hide the produce in the truck. There was something that struck me. It is election time! And the home minister is arriving in the village. The zamindaar would be busy preparing for the visit. I tell them that we can use this as an opportunity.So as per the plan, on the day of the visit, we start loading the truck. The zamindaar and his folks are busy at the function. The truck is loaded and we are about to leave. Just then someone calls me - "Reshma...". I see that a villager is calling out. He tells me that the home minister wants to see me. I'm perplexed. Why would the home minister want to see me? He doesn't know me. I don't even belong to the village. The worst part is that, the truck wont leave without me as the poor farmers have no idea what to do with it in the city. I have to be with them. However, I will have to see the home minister.
I go to the function. Now this home minister, is a very smart man. He looks very well educated in his white starched kurta and his speech in eloquent Hindi is making the villagers applaud every 5 minutes. I wondered if the villagers got any bit of what he said. They were probably just clapping on the cue they got from zamindaar.
After the speech, the home minister meets a chosen few. As he talks to us about his plans if he wins the elections, I realize that we have been split into 3 different groups by the home minister. The first group of people is the village intelligence service. The 2nd group, which I'm a part of, is a group of spies. Yes, I'm a spy from an Is---ic country. It felt as if we are playing mafia. All the mafias know each other but the poor villagers are clueless. The Home Minister....He was the coordinator! HE KNEW EXACTLY WHO WE ARE. He came there to tell us that, I reckon. Sitting in the group, I start thinking how it all began....
Flashback -
Once when I was a kid, I remember my sister came back from school, crying. She was teased by some guy on her way back home. I was furious.
The alarm went off....it was 7:30 AM on a Saturday morning....Weekend began!!!
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