The Punching Bag Diversion

Sometimes, to explain certain things that happen around us, we need to dive into our pool of experiences to get some context. Once we have gotten that context, if we still find ourselves without a workable solution, then it’s important to understand that the circumstances are either not in our control, or have run out of our control. 

It was not many years ago that I was walking at a railway station with my friends, when we spotted a commotion. We witnessed a young boy, probably our age or maybe even junior to us, getting thrashed by the public. Curious to know more, we went closer. We heard people shouting “Chor! Chor!” (Chor = thief) and hurling all kinds of abuses at him. At a distance, we saw the RPF (Railway Protection Force) running towards the scene. The racket had attracted a huge crowd, but I managed to get a glimpse of the boy. He was bleeding profusely, unable to speak or get up. 

Upon arrival, the RPF inquired about the happenings. An old uncle complained that the boy had stolen his wallet. That’s we could hear muffled cries of the young boy who was gesturing that he hadn’t done anything. The crowd still insisted on him being investigated. 

“Jhooth bol raha hai ye!” shouted someone. 

“Uski talashi lelo na aap!” suggested someone else. 

The police officer leaned down and warned the boy. He asked him to surrender the wallet if he had it, or if it was found while searching, there would be consequences. The boy, still crying, shook his head. 

Upon searching, it was discovered that he indeed didn’t have the wallet. It was only his misfortune that he happened to be behind the old man while getting off the train. His looks, his appearance and his get up was enough for the old man to conclude that he was a thief, while the actual thief had already stolen his wallet and disappeared. 

Saddened by this, I wondered - what was the point of beating him up? He could have been straight taken to the RPF and the problem could be solved without violence. My friend then reminded me of a scene from Munnabhai MBBS, where Sunil Dutt’s character explains to a thief (played by Nawazuddin Siddiqui) at a railway station that if he hands him over to the crowd, then he will be bashed up badly. Someone has had a fight with his wife, someone is annoyed with his boss, someone’s having money problems etc. etc. In a way, what he was trying to say is that all the frustration, all the anger will find its catharsis on the thief. And I had seen a live manifestation of this that day. The outpour of public outrage on a young boy, probably our age or maybe even junior to us. 

I realised that the boy was merely a punching bag. A means to vent and flush out all the anger. No one exactly felt guilty when he was finally let go, because well, the anger was out. It had to come out on someone, and that someone happened to be this boy. Some people were kind enough to help him go back home, but that was that. The feeling could be aptly summarized by an expression in Hindi -- “Haath saaf hogaye”.

Cut to: Today. 

We are frustrated. 

We are angry. 

We are upset. 

And mostly, we are just fed up. 

Work from home was fancy initially, now it’s just too much. 

Work-life balance has gone for a toss because work-from-home somehow means being available 24x7. 

We may love our families, but patience gets tested at times when all of you are working from home, for that very home. 

It doesn’t matter whether you are a bachelor, a spinster or a family, living on rent or permanent, housing societies are still bugging everyone in the name of precautions. 

Collectively, we are somewhere facing some sort of existential crisis as the cases mount, and the pandemic shows no signs of relief. 

Let’s face it, we are vulnerable. Probably more vulnerable than ever. 

Our anger is about this pandemic not getting over.  

A pandemic, which could probably have been controlled in a better way. 

Not to mention, the falling GDP. 

Combine both these things, and the result will be job losses, uncertain future, economic recession and chaos. 

And probably this has directly affected you. 

Maybe you lost a job, maybe you have one but don’t know the future. 

Worst yet, maybe you or your dear ones got COVID. Maybe you lost someone dear to you due to COVID. 

Somewhere, all of this is a reason why you are angry, frustrated or upset. 

We also lost some gems from the film fraternity. 

The most upsetting one though was Sushant Singh Rajput’s suicide on June 14. He was comparatively young, just climbing the stairs to success. It was just saddening that his life had to end so abruptly, that too by suicide. 

And it’s perfectly natural to be sad. The collective grief and prayers were completely understandable. 

But wait. 

You didn’t really care about Sushant Singh Rajput, did you? 

For that matter, you didn’t care about any other actor either. 

Your relationship with them was merely to see them on a screen, appreciate or dislike their work. 

Even if you were a fan, in an ideal world, you would be watching and rewatching his movies to relive his memories. That’s what we did right? News channels would have shown tributes, movie channels would have run their movies on repeat. An OTT platform did release his last piece of work as well. 

But, no. Something was missing.

Why did he commit suicide? 

What could be the reason behind his suicide? 

You were curious.

You wanted answers. 

You demanded answers. 

But somewhere along the way, did you notice how your grief was systematically turned into anger? Or rather, your existing anger was tapped into using grief? 

In a bid to unravel the ‘mystery’ behind his death, did you notice how mysteriously everyone’s names - including a leading producer to a member of the ruling party - got drawn into this conversation? 

Oh, and how could you miss that anchor and that actress, who turned justice for Sushant into a sustained campaign for close to 3 months now? 

That’s more than the shelf life of a movie or any journalistic feat in unearthing a scam. 

You see, you were served with a punching bag in the form of Rhea Chakroborty. 

And you were happy to vent. Happy to unleash your patriarchy and happy to draw conclusions from conspiracy theories. You needed an outlet, and it was decided (not by you, but nonetheless, willingly accepted by you) that Rhea Chakroborty was that outlet. 

Now that she has been arrested for possessing lesser quantities of marijuana than you could find in your child’s closet, try and think. 

Who served you that punching bag? 

Who benefited from it? 

Who was the thief who actually ran away with the wallet while you were busy punching someone else? 

Note: The author has never interacted with Sushant Singh Rajput or Rhea Chakroborty in any manner. The author doesn’t make any claims about the innocence of the accused, but chooses to let the courts decide on such legal matters. The author has no political affiliations or ambitions.