The murder case in itself is shocking and the way the investigation was conducted is appalling to start with. Tragic in itself the way the police conducted itself just adds to the misery.
To add to it the father being arrested for the murder of his daughter is something one cannot dream of. I in particular have been disappointed with the coverage of the news by a section of the news channels.
I for one don't have a clue as to who committed the murders and am as sure that neither does the media.Yes the police have arrested her father and maybe he might have indeed committed the crime but he has not been proved guilty. I do not support her father nor have anything against him.
I am just horrified at the way the case has been sensationalised by a section of media with going as far calling the father " dongi papa" and shedding crocodile tears over his daughters death. The least u can expect of the media is responsible journalism with painting a fair picture give both sides of the story.
To be fair there are many loopholes to the version the police has given out. This also is the same police force that failed to discover servants body lying on the terrace and somebody from outside had to do it for them. The whole version is littered with fallacies and i for my life cant seem to comprehend the motive behind the murder.
I am just disappointed that a few news channels for the sake of trp's took the police version, painted a story around it and proclaimed the father guilty party even b4 he was afforded a trial.
And on top of it aarushi would have been 14 in an hour from now.. sad end to a future that was never to be...
How happy is he born and taught
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
Whose passions not his masters are;
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
Untied unto the world by care
Of public fame or private breath;
Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Nor vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are giv'n by praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good;
Who hath his life from rumours freed;
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make oppressors great.
Who God doth late and early pray
More of His grace than gifts to lend;
And entertains the harmless day
With a religious book or friend.
This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.
by: Sir Henry Wotton(1568 - 1639)
Posted by vinu at 9:21 AM
The proposal to introduce pictorial warnings on tobacco products finally seems to be underway albeit in a modified way. The health ministry has decided to let go of their earlier concept of showing gory pictures and instead settle in for milder picture that would be more acceptable to the wider public. I wonder how much the pressure from the tobacco lobby had to do with the change in the proposal.
The ministry has approached the court to implement the proposal as early as possible. The effectivity of the pictorial warnings is something that I doubt. Most of consumers I believe indeed are aware of the harmful effects and consume tobacco inspite of it. Maybe the warnings might have some effect, where awareness might be a bit low, I still would be doubtful about the effectiveness of this measure.
The pictorial warnings are to occupy 40% of the packaging area is to be occupied by the warnings. The manufacturers would find some other way to lure the consumers to their products. I am of the opinion that the warnings wont have the amount of effect of the magnitude necessary to bring about a change.
Posted by vinu at 9:16 PM
The Fool Errant sat by the highway of life
And his gaze wandered up and his gaze wandered down,
A vigorous youth, but with no wish to walk,
Yet his longing was great for the distant town.
He whistled a little frivolous tune
Which he felt to be pulsing with ecstasy,
For he thought that success always followed desire,
Such a very superlative fool was he
Then they clattered away in the dust and the wind,
And the fool slunk back to his lonely stone;
He began to see that the man who asks
Must likewise give and not ask alone.
Purple tree-shadows crept over the road,
The level sun flung an orange light,
And the fool laid his head on the hard, gray stone
And wept as he realized advancing night.
A great, round moon rose over a hill
And the steady wind blew yet more cool;
And crouched on a stone a wayfarer sobbed,
For at last he knew he was only a fool.
- Amy Lowell
Posted by vinu at 9:21 PM