Dheeraj Kalgutkar

Photo by Nick Karvounis on Unsplash   The perennial excuse of our maid after taking an unannounced holiday which has become ever so often now is that she did come in the morning and rang our doorbell but we did not open the door for her. For long both of us who stay in the house have believed this excuse. Not because she did and we did not. Simply because we thought of letting it pass, giving her the benefit of doubt. There have been days like today when my friend was up since 5 AM due to some exam of his and know for sure that there was no doorbell ringing, but over the months he too has learnt the art of letting it go. “Aunty plays with us” is our constant topic of conversation. And in this game of her, she has been winning all this while. She didn’t come today morning too. And naturally, we had our usual “Arey yaar, ye aunty aaj bhi nahi aayi (Oh man, this maid didn’t even come today)” conversation and went out to have breakfast. On our way back in the dark parking lo

The long-awaited, more than twenty years, Ayodhya Judgement is here. Before we dwell on the same, ever wondered why people go to the courts? Why they spend on lawyers, on their travels to court? After all, all they do is present arguments from each side which they could do before a sarpanch in a village or that old man in Khaap panchayat or a mutual friend — just anyone but the judge in a court. Why walk to a court? What is it that you expect from a court that you do not expect from other avenues. Why do we say we have to respect the decisions of the court? After all, the people giving verdicts are people like us too. They go through similar lives as we do. They breathe the same air, drink the same water, eat the same food. Why then do we expect them to deliver judgements on our problems and also respect their pronouncements? Is it because we believe that they are impartial, that they rely on facts and facts alone and not on emotions and beliefs and pressures of the society?