I always thought that there were two kinds of Dalits – the first ones who thanked the noble soul of Dr. B. R. Ambedkar on 14th day of April for bestowing them a holiday filled with processions, liquor and street dances. Whereas, the second category has always been pondering at their pitiful social statuses and wondering what under the sun made this man so famous and great. Even after more than sixty years of Independence, the plight of a common Dalit living in the slums of the nation seems to be the same.

Caste-ism has always been deeply rooted into the veins of the Indian culture which is something that I hate to be proud of. In a society where last names are only meant to identify the sect, sub-castes and creed of a person, how can we really expect a change to happen in terms of social and economical upliftment of the poor? Slums have always been looked upon as the vote banks by the modern political leaders. It is sad but true that it is easy to lure them by enacting a pretentious savior or throwing away unforeseen promises. It hurts to see a significant number of followers to the leaders and political parties that are trying to categorize the citizens based on the language they speak. Their malicious and undemocratic division of the nation will only ruin the ethics and the cultural heritage of our country. In this course, the simple yet powerful teachings of Bharatratna Dr. Ambedkar often go unheard.

He was a born ‘dalit’ – that is how he was tagged when he made his entrance to this wicked world. Things were never as they look like today. It was hard to breathe a life of an untouchable – to affix a broom behind your waist and wipe off your footprints on the village streets, to not have the right to fill or drink water from the common well and to feel ashamed of oneself when a non-Dalit abused you after your accidental touch. The rights to education and to choose a profession of your choice were the options that a Dalit of that time wouldn’t dare to dream of. Ambedkar never wanted to be a leader in the true sense but yes he was a struggler. During his lifetime, he was humiliated every single day and I reckon, that must be his source of inspiration to fight against the society and get educated to such a great level. He was a thinker who strongly believed that man is the creator of his own destiny. All his life he tried hard to inculcate this ideology into the minds of the downtrodden sections of the society. Society is a no person and neither is the government. Every person has to fight his own battle to survive and excel. He was a man with exceptional abilities, immense confidence and a strong willpower. But to the deprived society, he was a messenger in the true sense.

A majority of the young non-Dalit population of modern India thinks that Dr. Ambedkar was all about creating unjust reservations in the constitution of India and that he is up to a certain extent, responsible for stretching the unjust practice of Caste-ism. I must recite that such thoughts are a result of shallow thinking and a narrow outlook towards our much broader society. A society with equal opportunities is never built in a day. When one feels that he lost his hard earned seat of an Engineering or Medical college to a less deserved Dalit candidate, he is just not covering the entire picture. It is just that he never owned a stake in the seat secured by the Dalit candidate. Colleges are mere representatives of our society. And when they are representatives, they represent the population. It is a hard fact that several Dalits are not even aware of something called as reservation. Many a times, reserved seats are helplessly allotted to a general candidate due to lack of eligible candidate from the reserved category. This shows nothing but the grim level of awareness among the masses.

In the world of today, to regard that every Dalit is poor would not be wise. There are handfuls that have progressed to a considerable level. But the progress is just not enough with regards to the huge Dalit population. Given that zillions of them are battling for their daily bread and butter, it is very hard to imagine them actually coming up and availing the benefits of reservation. Things were never easy and would never be; struggling and working towards self appraisal is the only way out. Ambedkar had a very clear motive towards generating reservations. These are no tools but mere means for the social upliftment of the long deprived Dalit population.

Today, the nation is celebrating 119th birth anniversary of one of the greatest gems of our country, Dr. Bhimrao Ambedkar. No matter, his teachings will keep on inspiring many generations to come. I feel sad to see huge hoardings of Dr. Ambedkar conjoined with the local political leaders all around the city streets. In his pretext, they will continue to dance with joy and bliss. Ambedkar Jayanti celebrations will gain a true meaning only if a common Dalit really understands what this great soul really had to say.

A Scenic View Captured while travelling towards Mahabaleshwar from Panchgani (20 kms. from Mahabaleshwar)

The April heat has started soaring to a new peak - all credits to the global warming and our ever-negligent attitude towards the issues pertaining to the climate change. The people of Mumbai have already started to soak themselves into the streams of their own sweat and the people of Pune are steadily blaming the climate Gods for being so harsh on them. Given such ruthless climatic conditions here in summer, there is nothing else than Mahabaleshwar that I could think of. Our trip in April, last year to this glorious and world-renowned hill station is still vividly green in my mind.

It was our first visit to Mahabaleshwar. It was a long weekend and we had a perfect plan for an early morning travel from Pune to the hill station. Mahabaleshwar is merely 120 kms. from Pune and approximately 290 kms. from Mumbai. Commutation is not a major problem if you are a resident of either of these two cities. Nevertheless, Mahabaleshwar is strongly connected by road to various parts of Maharashtra. The MSRTC, state transport buses ply between Pune and Mahabaleshwar almost as frequent as forty five minutes. The private luxury and volvo buses are always ready to serve you in case you happen to miss any of your scheduled vehicle. We chose to take the state transport bus from Pune.

Our journey began at 8:00 AM from the Shivajinagar bus station, Pune. A couple of hours later, we reached a place called Vaai. It is one of the most famous rural destinations of Maharashtra. The fresh smell of the recently cut crops was steadily oozing through the window and enchanting my mind. I had a look all around the road that we were continuously leaving behind. The serenity of the green farms on either side of the road was dragging me close to the nature's bust. The elevations of the roads was making me feel that we were actually climbing a mountain. We continued to struggle towards gravity leaving behind the breath-taking views of the valleys on our right. Just then, I was completely amazed to see a couple of parachute gliders flying just beside our bus.

Our journey continued to progress as our bus halted at Paachgani. Paachgani is well-known for a varied reasons - boarding schools, it's scenic beauty, para-gliding clubs etc. But it is the ever cool climate of this place that drags most of the tourists to Paachgani. Mahabaleshwar is roughly 20-25 kms. from Paachgani. We decided to spend some time here during our return from Mahabaleshwar.

After a three hour drive, we reached Mahabaleshwar. Being a place of tourist attraction, it wasn't so hard to find a hotel. Mahabaleshwar has accommodation options to suit every budget. However, tariffs and rentals tend to rise during peak seasons and long weekends. After lunch, we decided to reserve a tourist vehicle for the local sight seeing. It is not very difficult to locate the cab reservation counters for tourists. Most of the cabs follow the fixed-price package policy and would give you a clear demonstration of the places that would be covered under a specific package. I kinda like such practices wherein the chances of the tourist getting cheated are ruled out. We hired a cab and here we started our trip. The hill station has several breath-taking views each of them are known as a 'point'. Every point has it's own significance and scenic beauty. Since, it was summer time, the greenery had started to fade away but the view remained unaltered. The needle-hole point was something that intrigued me. The spot had acquired it's name due to a small cavity between two huge rocky mountains. Similarly, the Arthur point has it's very own significance and history. It is being said that King Arthur used to sit on this rock and stared at the river bed for hours in the memories of his beloved who had died at that location.

The Venna Lake is one of the most beautiful lakes I have ever seen in my life. If you decide to spend a relaxed afternoon time at this lake, you may like to opt for a boat ride for yourself and your loved ones. Just beside the lake, you may like to try out some adventures with a horse ride. We decided to spend our evening at the Sunset point which was one of the best sunset spots I have ever been in my life. At times, the crowd that had gathered to watch the sunset in large numbers turned me down, but I promise that the majestic view of the setting sun from this place will definitely force you to forget the world around you.

Places gaining their names from the famous temples is a very striking feature of most of the places all over India. On similar tracks, this place has adopted the name Mahabaleshwar from the old Ateebaleshwar or Mahabaleshwar temple. In the local language Marathi, the word 'Mahabaleshwar' literally means - the God with immense strength. Interestingly, the glorious history of this beautiful place can be tracked as back as year 1200.

On the second day of our stay at Mahabaleshwar, we decided to do some shopping. Sometimes I spontaneously think of Mahabaleshwar whenever I see strawberries. In other words, Mahabaleshwar is the land of strawberries. On very single step ahead in the market, you'd come across a strawberry seller flaunting bunches of freshest strawberry. As a matter of fact, these sellers are most of the times, actual strawberry farmers. I had never had such juicy and sweet strawberries ever in my life. Neither had I seen such a huge strawberry market ever before in my life. I nearly gulped 50-60 strawberries in a single day and I believe that it is still not my best.

Pleasant climatic condition has boosted fruit production in this area. The production of strawberries, raspberries and gooseberries has given rise to several fruit crush and pulp manufacturing industries. The Bagicha restaurant just on the outskirts of the main market is worth trying. You may also opt to buy a few bottles of fresh squash and crush here. Besides the restaurant also treats you a variety of falooda and other fruit drinks. I am sure that you would not forget to clean the glass off the last drop.

Hill stations such as Mahabaleshwar have always been great hangouts and a short-lived rescue from the soaring heat in our cities. It is a hard fact that every place on earth is under the threat of Global warming. Places like Mahabaleshwar are definitely refreshing and soothing but to safeguard their sanctity and serenity is what I feel is the need of the day.

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 9; the ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

April 1st might be a fool’s day, but it wasn’t really this case with this twenty-three year old. It was the most crucial day of her life. Although it wasn’t the first interview of her life, there was something that kept her feeling nervous. She had spent an almost sleepless night lost in her thoughts about a dream job she had always been longing for. The tiring early-morning bus travel to the new city failed to curb her enthusiasm and anxiety.

She took a small mirror out of her purse and had a good look at her sparkling face. She smiled as she looked at her disturbed hairstyle. I need a reset, she thought as she gently picked out a comb to brush her hair. Minutes later it was time to get down and cease the long journey.

She looked around the street as she got down from the bus. It was a new place and new aspirations were filled in her mind. She interrogated a few pedestrians on her way. The venue was not afar, she learnt from one of them.

“Excuse me, How do I reach Hinjewadi from here?” she asked as she stopped at a stationary car.

“Where do you wanna go?” the man on the driver’s seat questioned as he spat the gutkha he had been holding in his mouth.

“Telemax Solutions!”, she said.

“Oh Madam, that is too far from here... Why don’t you come along? I can drop you – it’s just on the way to the place where we are heading… ”, the man said as he wiped his mouth with his left hand.

“But someone just told me it is just 15 minutes from here”, she said as she raised her concern.

“Well, someone must have fooled you Mam’; you know it is the fool’s day today! Given the traffic conditions within the city, it cannot be less than forty-five minutes for sure”, the man explained as he burst out in laughter.

“Oh is it? I cannot afford to reach there after an hour. I have an important interview to attend”, she said as she realized her stupidity and decided to join them.

She noticed that the rear seat of the car was occupied by another man. It was an air-conditioned car maintained in a good condition, she realized as she joined them. She occupied an empty seat in the rear.

She left a sigh of relief as she made herself comfortable on the cushion of the seat.

It was 10:00 AM when she had a peek at her wrist watch. Nervousness was gradually getting transformed into confidence when she decided to read the book that she had in her bag. Jeffery Archer was her favorite author and she almost always got lost in the story when she resumed the paragraphs of the current novel she was reading.

A sudden bump on the road distracted her from the book. She read the hands of her wrist watch again that told her it was 11:10 AM. She seemed worried as she looked outside the window.

“What place is this?”, she asked the cab driver desperately?

“It’s Deccan Madam - we are here to pick up one of our buddies. Please don’t mind”, he said as he looked back and rolled his eyes at her chest and then down towards her knees.

“Stop the car”, she screamed.

“Please don’t shout sweetie. We’ll have your interview in the car. So stop bothering and shut the fuck up!”, the man beside her seat yelled as he took off a small knife.

All her cries almost faded away within the loud stereos and her calls for help were never visible outside the amber window glass. She wept helplessly as she saw herself driven over a deserted road.

She wished to have herself dead every single moment of the awful hours when each one of them used her to quench their lust.

She recollected the face of her anxious husband who was too eager to call her to hear the result of her interview. She wished if she could ever explain him the foolery she had committed. She wished if she could ever find the words to explain how she felt when she was ruthlessly thrown away out of the car.

She was shattered, torn and broke. How hard she felt if she had never lived that day – if she had never been so fool!


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