By Cafe Dissensus
I could see that Shyam was deeply moved. I could well understand what was passing through his mind. When we left, I said to him: ‘I am a Muslim. Don’t you want to kill me?’ ‘Not now,’ he replied gravely, ‘but while I was listening to them and learning of the atrocities committed by the Muslims, I could have killed you.’
By Achyut Dutt
I read on and on, my voice practiced and well-modulated. And as my words settled into a steady drone, I realized that her movements had gradually ceased and her little curly head was now resting on my arm, completely still.
By Mosarrap H. Khan
Dutt’s use of the word ‘compassionate’ is interesting. As Krishnan points out, it’s certainly offensive for Muslims. One doesn’t expect compassion from the man, who many Muslims hold responsible for the carnage in Gujarat. However, what intrigues one about the term, ‘compassionate’, is its underlying suggestions of theocracy.
The incumbent JNUSU has called upon the students to join a campaign against BJP’s Prime Ministerial candidate Narendra Modi in Varanasi, although it has not specified which candidate would it support. The Akhil Bhartiya Vidyarthi Parishad – student wing of the RSS – brought out a vicious pamphlet attacking the JNUSU’s call for campaign against Modi.
By Bhaswati Ghosh
According to a new research, the number of missing or murdered women is more than 800. The most recent case came to light with the murder of Loretta Saunders, an Inuk aboriginal young woman, who, ironically, was writing a thesis on the missing or murdered aboriginal women.
By Abu Saleh
The book points out that from the very beginning of the investigation process, the Gujarat Government didn’t follow the standard forensic procedures that are the basic requirements in any criminal case. Mr. Nag corroborates this when he says that the burnt train was kept open and accessible to the public for many days and the forensic experts investigated it only after two months. Also, improper and inadequate record-keeping show a systematic effort to divert the investigation process.
By Abu Saleh
Mr. Modi, may I humbly remind you that you have appeased Muslims in other ways, when you felt the need. Sometimes, quite overtly. Earlier, you have been seen hobnobbing with many maulanas. You have sought out the services of the Pathan Brothers (cricketers) to ‘impress’ Muslims. Most recently, you had Salman and Salim Khan endorse you.
By Lopa Banerjee
All these years I have worked to make Omaha my home with its long, tiring winter days of endless snowfall and mist, its sunlit days of solitude, its dark clouded summer evenings breaking out into violent storms and tornadoes. It is nowhere near the grandeur of experience of friends, who have been lured by the luxury and ambiance of big American cities and the dreams fostered there.
By Lopa Banerjee
The summer I turned ten, I knew my mother, too, craved to sing these songs and wanted to teach me, so I could sing in the choir. Her voice ached to traverse the vast terrain of sounds between the high and low notes of the harmonium. I could not see then the atoms of the dozens of glittering particles inside her neck that toiled to spell the musical notes.
By Safia Begum
Noorani delves into Patel’s daughter, Maniben Patel’s diary for a revealing observation. Maniben writes, “On 21st August, Patel threatened ‘to resign if army was not sent to Hyderabad’”. He also said, “I am very clear in my mind – if we have to fight – Nizam is finished. We cannot keep this ulcer in the heart of the unions.”
By Achyut Dutt
The years have flown fairly quickly after that. After moving to the west, Rani and you had one more child, a son, Arnav. He is going to Stanford since last August. Tina lives with her husband Dieter in Schwedt. They have a cottage by the Elbe. And Rani. It’s now a year since the very light of your life, your Rani, passed away, consumed by the cancer which had galloped unchecked through her thyroids.
By Prachi Priyanka
I felt a whirlpool of emotions. Thoughts wandered like shadowy strangers. My eyes were moist with tears as I slowly perched on the bed and sat beside my child. Ah! My heart ached to reach out to my baby. I bent down to kiss him.
Cafe Dissensus Everyday 