Why ?

Why ? Why the fuck do these questions , which have so many different answers come to my mind ? What the hell should I strive for ? Peace of mind ? A fatter wallet ? Should I do what my parent's want me to do ? Or should I do what I want to do ? Live peacefully in a picturesque village ? Struggle in a bustling city ? Drink hard water , eat semi poisoned food and breath toxic fumes ? Savour the city life at the cost of my dwindling health ? Or pass my life in perpetual tranquility in some remote corner of the world , while enjoying the pristine Nature ? Should I marry ? Should I not , for the fear of incompatibility ? Should it be out of obeisance or my own will ? Should I try to change this fucked up world ? Or should I just try my damndest to get the best deal out of it ? Should I pray for a female offspring , cause the way women are treated sends shivers down my spine (that bastard DGP, for one) ? Or should I devote to the "worthy cause" of obtaining a son , when the time comes ? Should I measure my success in rupees or in terms of people who care for me ? What will make me happy ? Do I want to be happy , the way this world defines it , or for that matter , even sane ?

It seems as if the only thing I can do , is handle what is on my plate right now , to the best of my abilities . Will everything else fall in place ?

Where is Indyeah ?

Where is she ? She has been AWOL for long . And I say this without a doubt , each and every one of us , members of our blog samaaj , must be missing her presence .

Where is this fellow gang member of mine ?

Where is that bubbly,cheerful,strong and sensible poetess ?

Where is that artist who paints pictures of different hues and shades with words ?

Where is Indyeah ?

If any one of you knows about her whereabouts , please share with us .

Death to Pakistan

Death to Pakistan !

Death to Pakistan !!

Death to Pakistan !!!

Death to Pakistan , for all the innocent blood they have shed , and tried to pawn it of as an act of faith . I can not possibly believe , that a rather large bunch of Grade A idiots could manage to shadow such a widespread faith . I cannot possibly fathom , that even though they are in huge numbers all over the world , those idiots still feel threatened , and end in up in making significant contributions towards the general "well being" of people like them and people not like them , all around .

Death to Pakistan .

I desire the death of Pakistan , the idea , the ideology , the Frankenstein it is , not the death of all its citizens . I desire the the end to the failed experiment , and seek the destruction of all its evil creations . I desire the death of Pakistan for the sake of our freedom , and the freedom of its own people , from the pathetic state it is in .

Death to Pakistan .

Death to Fundamentalism .

Only a misguided fool will hope for living under the shadow of "one" great faith , nestled by "one" great culture , and speaking "one" great language , rather than bask in the warmth emanating from a number of great faiths , cultures , languages and nations.

For the faith is great only when the faithful are great as well . And I truly believe that there are great people all over the world .

Death to fundamentalism .

Death to any damn thing , that forces the human spirit to be molded by a set of rigid , inflexible , illogical rules , rather than allowing the liberty , to breathe and realize life , in diversity .

Death to all Fundamentalism .

Son of the Soil

Howdy everyone ! Its been long . Nearly one and a half months since I lasted bored you all with my rants :) . I hope some of you still remember me though .

I bet you all must have seen the Abu Asim Azmi Vs Raj Thackeray , aka Sainiks Vs Samkavadis BS being aired all over . Leave alone the debates , where Ivy League educated politicians talk as if they were schooled and force fed all the words a night before . All theory , all technical terms , full of "We shoulds and we should nots" kind of crap , cliched and over cliched . The issue itself is so damn idiotic . Who asked you to force one language on another ? And more importantly , who the hell asked you puff your chest and proclaim your solidarity with the "national language" . I wonder how familiar is that person , truly , with Hindi . And boy oh boy , do check his wikipedia bio . If the parties involved were so sorely seeking participation in contact sports , they could have easily done it in a better and more dignified manner . But NO . This is INDIA ! A gyrating democracy . Not vibrating , but gyrating , to different tunes . So this had to happen .

But this issue is just an off shot of the real issue , the Son of the Soil theory . I wonder why the name stuck , the only soil I know is the Indian one , the idea of Tamil , Gujerati , Manipuri or Kashmiri soil sounds unreal and nonsensical to me . Anyways, we all have heard about it , since it all started in 08 . What happened then bothered me a lot , and it still does . But what bothers me even more , is the undivided attention , the Hindi and English language media showered on MNS and Mr. Thackeray alone . Sure , he is wrong on many fronts . Undeniable . But how many of the news channels and journalists ever turned the limelight on the politicians and the pace of the development of the states from where all the "undesirables of Mumbai" come from ? Why aren't they portrayed as darkly as Raj Thackeray , who is nothing but one side of the coin ? Why ? Is it deliberate , a part of some sort of a super conspiracy theory , to bring him out in the open , and as no publicity is bad publicity , fuel his growth ? Or is it that English and Hindi media took it personally , and decided to just focus on the side of the story they don't like ? I want to know why . Honestly . For will I not accept this argument forever , that any Indian can settle anywhere he wants , no matter what . Some things matter . Like the fact , that two of the most populous states cannot be underdeveloped for long without having its repurcussions . The fact , that a country as huge as ours cannot do with a handful of good cities . And migration must have its optimum levels ,everything in and around us operates on that logic. And who do we blame ? The people of those states ? The people of the states that has the migrant population ? The respective leaders ? The Central Government ? Who , the fuck , is responsible , and answerable ? And more importantly , even if only theoretically speaking , how do you redesign the system , to ensure uniformity , and to restore balance and order ?

But I guess Raj Thackeray alone is enough to push the TRP up . Why bother , huh . Some of us will be happy watching the English/Hindi reporting on him . Some of us , will get a reason to pent up some anger , and might vote for him the next time . Many of us , would process it as reality tv/modern age entertainment , and live with it , till it directly crosses our path .

Please , share with me , if you have any answers .

Show them no fear

A violent method constitutes the act of inflicting or the threat to inflict physical harm to a person, a larger group or some inanimate object of use or importance to those people. There are times, when committing such an act, becomes unavoidable, given the circumstances. The need for peace in a longer term sometimes warrants that we have a war, now. This is not a bad method. In fact, in the human history , this has been used many a times, and good results have come of it. But, there has been a man, whose approach was as courageous as the violent and life endangering one, yet it differs so much that it is the other end of the spectrum . I need not mention his name; we all know who he was. What struck me now is that even his non-violent method had the intent to attack, destroy or break the enemy. But the object of destruction here is not the body but the mind. It is the spirit of the enemy that needs to be crushed, and if you crush that, you crush the enmity in him, not the enemy. It is very simple, yet profound. It is very human, and at the same time very divine.

Go back a few decades. Imagine a situation where a gora is threatening you with a big fat stick. He is visibly belligerent, itching to use his baton on your brown behind. But you still don’t budge. The gora sniggers, “Wait, till I land a juicy one on the spot”, says he. And his hand comes down. Wham! You are hit, and hurt. You are bleeding. It knocked the living daylights out of you. You almost peed. But deep down, you know that you cannot let go. The enemy must go down. You muster all the strength you can, and you get up. And when you stand on your feet again, look at the gora, defiant, rebellious , proud and indefatigable, not at all vanquish able , what do you think will happen? The gora might strike again. In fact, he might descend on you with untold savagery, a few more times. And if you come back up, like a hit-me-doll, resilient as the phoenix, every time, his spirit will be crushed. He will give up.

“What is going on? What the bloody hell is going on? I hit, and I give it to him hard, and he still doesn’t run away, like he is supposed to do. He should either run away with his tail between his legs, or he should fight back. He doesn’t run, but he doesn’t retaliate as well. What kind of bravery is this? I am so bloody confused. Bloody hell! This guy has got some bollocks. “ I think some similar thoughts will run through his mind . :)

That is true victory. He might still wave the baton at you, threateningly, every now and then. He will curse and spit at you, for that is all he can do. But he dare not hit you again. He is mentally weak, exhausted. His mind is panting. He is afraid, and confused. You are almost invincible to him. That is what a non-violent struggle is all about , the way I see it .

That is the brilliance of a great man. The first one of his kind. And a kind nobody has ever come close to. That is why the World knows him. And if a few, or rather quite a few of Indians swear at him or his methods, it is not because it didn’t or won’t work. It is more because they do not understand it. The same can be said for those, who utter his name at the drop of a hat, and pretend to follow his ways. They do not understand his methods as well. And I cannot start on how his name is being cashed these days.

No matter what happens, you have to fight back, injustice, inequality, persecution, aggression, whatever may it be. But you have to fight it. Neither do you wear the badge of belligerence, and be bellicose all the time, nor do you cloak it under cowardice, and label it as peaceful and non-violent . You fight back, the way you can. The natural urge, being the animals we are, is to resort to brute force. But if your spirit and intelligence is human, you will know what to do. As any method, it has its pros and cons. The pro is that it is the best, in terms of human suffering. The person, suffering the violence will get stronger if he survives. The person inflicting the suffering, will resist or completely stop it. And look at how, even here, there is an act of violence involved. The con here is that, it is slow, it involves patience on your part, and the strength to bear the pain you experience.

Imagine a virtual world , where two warriors are battling against each other, using mental and not physical force . Picture that their light sabers are powered and maneuvered not by the muscles but by their spirits .

It is that simple. The both have certain flaws, they both work, but one, is better than the other, given how humane it is.

I must add, that had I been born in 1914, I would have hitched myself to Bose or Bhagat Singh & Azad. That is what I want. It doesn’t imply that I do understand what “Satyagraha” is all about. And Bhagat Singh and his gang of brave men, did practice the non-violent method, before and after Saunder’s death and the assembly blast incidents, when they were protesting with Lalajee and when they went on a 114 day hunger strike. Do not curse Him, because you love Bhagat Singh, and his kind of revolutionaries. Do not look down upon these young men or dismiss their struggle as a lesser one, just because you worship Him. It saddens me so much, when people compare them with the intent of labeling one as a better or greater one. It breaks my heart that Bhagat Singh jee’s birthday went unnoticed.

We must fight, whenever life puts in such a situation. We must engage the enemy, whenever or however he strikes at us. But we must do it the way we deem fit.

To the Great Man . It took me a while to understand his method.





My lecture on “Violence and Non-violence is over”. If you still can not figure out who is He, please , for the love of Mother India and Humanity, end your life, as non-violently as possible.

Love, Marriage, Philosophy and Physics

You won't believe it that I wrote this. Me, who worships the Gods of Bachelorhod every day . The guy who cannot bear to be addressed by honeyed words of the “honey,sweetie,cutie,babe” kind. Yes . I did write this . Stuff about love and marriage. At the cost of being banned for life from ze Cool Boys Club, I did write this.

A nocturnal conversation between the man who is my father, my teacher and my best friend, and yours truly , imbibed me with the following facts, mythological facts if you want it that way. And I digested them, and came up with this .

Ram is known as Marayada Purushottam Ram, the ideal man . Ideal man , he WAS , but the ideal husband he wasn't . He failed to perform his “patni-dharma” , and their marriage was tested and failed . It is as simple as that . There is nothing blasphemous about it . No Sir . No religious sentiments can be hurt by this one . This is the way it happened . And the conclusion is , that ideal man he was, he could not be the ideal husband. He loved her, but the affairs of his kingdom caught with him, and ruined his marriage.

The day , and I don't what day is it or what is it called , on which Ram and Sita were married is considered to be the unholiest day for marriage . Now don't go on shredding this logic by asking for scientific facts supporting this argument . Just look at it, as abstractly as possible , by believing in what happened rather than how did it happen , and you will see .

And the day the Destroyer married the Source of All Energy, the day Shiva married Parvati , is considered to be the holiest and the most auspicious day to marry. Mondays, as a day to fast, are very popular young single women seekking a kickass husband, because it is the day of the King of the Dancers, Mahesh . And why, because he WAS the ideal husband. He did not fail his wife, unlike Ram . Bhole Baba is a true Rockstar .

And don't look at this story as one from Hinduism. Abstraction again, look at what happened, and not where it happened. It just makes a lot of sense to me, in a very different way. They explain to me, the notion of marriage and the concept of love.

An ideal man can never be the ideal husband, and the ideal husband can never be the ideal man . It is like the concept of duality , they both co-exist and mutually .

Sometimes, and I don't know why, Hindu Mythology seems like Physics to me, told like a story or as a poem. I see Creation, Destruction, Preservation, Energy, Mater, Antimatter, Quantum Mechanics and what not. I can't really find out all the physics in it, but I can get the hang of some of it , some of the times .


p.s. Thou shall not blame the author if you were quietly scratching your head , or hurling abuses at me , after reading this . :)

My sentiments have been hurt

Christians in Ferozepur violently protest against the use of napkins with a Cross on it .

Hindu priests are mad at Vishal Bhardwaj , for in his latest movie Kaminey , there is scene in which "Apna haath jaganaath" is written on a door, with a picture of a scantily clad girl next to it . It hurt their religious sentiment .


My sentiments have been hurt as well

I would like a ban on Khuswant Singh and all his books, specially The Company of Women . Why ? How dare you ask me ? Is it not enough that he was written a story about a man who just doing it, left, right and center ? I mean, what about my culture ? Promoting promiscuity, is what it is. But if that is not good enough for you, I will give you one concrete reason. The name of the character, the guy who has sex with so many woman and ultimately dies of AIDS, is Mohan Kumar. You still don't get it ? . Mohan is one of the names of our Lord and Saviour, Shree Krishna. Khushwant Singh , has taken a shot at an avtaar of the Vishnu, the Preserver, and this is not acceptable under any circumstances. I want a ban ! My sentiments have been hurt! So what if I read the book 3 years ago ? It took me some time to realize that his book actually intended to hurt Hindu sentiments. But better late than never. So give me my ban, or else you know what happens.



And this was a teaser . What follows , is the movie .


I have decided to protest against all of humanity for desecrating two of my Gods , namely Vayu , the Lord of Winds and Varuna , the God of Oceans . Humanity , on a daily basis uses air and water , the way they want , and more often than not, they end up polluting it . We ingest air and water , we release it out of our system through the process of excretion , we spit , gargle and break wind . Our cars and our factories pollute. We pollute it when we smoke. We pollute when we are done with our morning ablutions. It is all so insulting and derogatory . It is desecration. It is absolute blasphemy . Therefore, I want a ban on the use of air and water , by humans . Every time, when I see some one wash his dirty hands with water, or hear some one burp loudly after a heavy meal, it makes my blood boil. My religious sentiments have been hurt, and I want this ban to be imposed asap..I am a citizen of secular and democratic republic, and justice can not be denied unto me. I rest my case . And mind you, I chose just two. If I had done my research properly, I am pretty sure the list would have been much longer.


By the way , my sentiments were NOT at all hurt when a 10 year old girl was beaten black and blue, and burned by a TV actress . I mean, who cares. Why the fuck should any one care ? Does it say anywhere in any holy book, explicitly , that “Soap opera stars can not hire 10 year old girls as maids and not hit them or burn them if they are caught eating” ? Does it ? Nope, I don't think so .



I know, I know. Another satire. But what can I do, when life around me appears as a big joke? I promise the next post will definitely not be a satire, unless, Behenji decides to have a swayamvar of her own.

p.s. Is there a God of Trees and WildLife in Hinduism ? Cause my religious sentiments have been hurt that way as well !

Miss Universe

And the new Miss Universe is, hold you breath, and wait for it, Miss India . Hell yeah, sadi chori , Ekta Chaudhary , from India . And a nation of 1.2 Billion erupts with joy . News channel go crazy . Sarkha, Turedesai and their ilk go berserk . PFBS(People full of BS , i.e. Bhartiya Sanskriti) are ecstatic , as they will be invited to dozens of debates hosted by pompous TV anchors , where the topic would be  - "The intricate relationship between Beauty Pageants and Indian Culture and their effects ( ill and otherwise) on the Socio Economic factors contributing to the stability of Modern Indian Society" . Indra Dev is pleased . He is wondering how to woo this apsara to convince her to join his entourage . And it starts raining , ending the drought in parts of our country . Swine Flu patients bounce back to health , as the sudden patriotic surge gave their immunity a much needed boost . A visibly humiliated China, whose contestant could not even make it to the semi final round , drops its plans to surround India with naval bases , and instead , sends a request to the Indian Embassy requesting assistance in increasing the per capita Beauty Quotient . The top brass of the country's most popular brand of fairness cream, The Fair and The Idiot , are gleefully rubbing their hands, their sales sky rocketed , in just one night . "Super Blogger" Kislay, with tissues in his left hand, tears of joy in his both eyes,furiously starts typing with his right hand, composing a 7628 word long post, on how this inspiring moment is going down in the annals of History, and how will it the change the course India takes. Annu Bhai is listening to Iron Maiden , for the movie that will be soon coming out starring the new Miss Universe , needs to have a heavy metal inspired background score , so said KJo  to him . Himesh Bhau gets the encouragement and inspiration he was looking for, to contest in Mr. Universe. The grandiose members of the grand old party of India, congratulate each other , Sonia jee and Rahul jee, and stake a claim , in this awe inspiring achievement by a fellow Indian . The media is a little stumped, as to how can they can they label this victory , as one of Secularism over Saffron Fascism , and taunt the BJP . But wait , they are in a mess of their own right now, so let them stew in it for a while. And little and not-so-little girls all over the country , start using cosmetics , think about designer dresses , and practice their "look of utter bewilderment when they are crowned" , as they dream of becoming Miss Muzzaffarnagar Municipality -> Miss Tiruvanathapuram ->Miss Chhattisgarh -> Miss Rupa(Briefs&Vests) India -> Miss Universe(Only for Planet Earth) ! So that , one day , when the country is struggling , and battling as usual , for its existence , they will solve all its problems , by winning a beauty pageant. At least for a while .

So you can imagine how devastated and heart broken I was , when a bored friend casually mentioned that Miss Venezuela ( or did I see it in the daily rag I subscribe to ? ) won the contest . Never mind . We will win it the next year , when our beloved brothers from across the border will be back in action , after a reinvigorating vacation ( courtesy , the GoI ) , and start bombing the shit out of us . Yep . I think so . What do you think ?





p.s. A possible outcome of the Miss Universe/World/Earth/India/Nukkad/Mauhalla/Khet/Khalihan/Municipality contests – I assume that all of these bright and beautiful ladies do wish for “World Peace” . Well, the Gods in the heavens above , might grant them their wish , if they asked for it just after the swim suit round . I would , if I was God . No kidding ! And I bet the soul of Alfred Nobel must be wondering “ Did I miss out on something ? I mean , Math was not practical enough for a prize , but Beauty ? Hmmm . I hope the dudes in charge of my moolah think of this soon enough and introduce a Nobel Beauty Prize . It would shoot the TRP of the ceremony as well , if its aired ” .




p.p.s. No disrespect intended towards the lady who represented India . The satire is directed at everything but her .

Freedom

Well, I am not going to rant and rave about how hard our freedom fighters fought for it , and how most of the young do not get what it means to be free from oppression and slavery , as they take our freedom for granted . My only wish is that people understand the significance of having an Independence Day . Having said that , I would like to share two great songs, that Freedom, Independence and Brutality of the British remind me of .

The first song is by Iron Maiden , called The Clansman . If revolutionaries like Shaheed Bhagat Singh and Shaheed Chandrashekhar Azad had been into Rock , and if you replace clan with India , then this could have been there rock anthem . To them .

Wake alone in the hills
With the wind in your face
It feels good to be proud
And be free and a race
That is part of a clan
And to live on highlands
And the air that you breathe
So pure and so clean

When alone on the hills
With the wind in your hair
With a longing to feel
Just to be free

Is it right to believe
In the need to be free
It's a time when you die
And without asking why
Can't you see what they do
They are grinding things down
They are taking our land
That belongs to the clans

Not alone with a dream
Just a want to be free
With a need to belong
I am a clansman
Freedom !

It's a time wrought with fear
It's a land wrought with change

Ancestors could hear
What is happening now
They would turn in their graves
They would all be ashamed
That the land of the free
Has been written in chains

And I know what I want
When the timing is right
Then I'll take what is mine
I am the clansman

And I swear to defend
And we'll fight to the end
And I swear that I'll never be taken alive
And I know that we'll stand
And we'll fight for our land
And I swear that my bairns
Will be born free

And I know what I want
When the timing is right
Then I'll take what I want
I am the clansman
Freedom !

No, no we can't let them take anymore
No we can't let them take anymore
We've the land of the free
Freedom !

Is it right to believe
In the need to be free
It's a time when you die
And without asking why
Can't you see what they do
They are grinding things down
They are taking our land
That belongs to the clans

Not alone with a dream
Just a want to be free
With a need to belong
I am a clansman

And I know what I want
When the timing is right
Then I'll take what is mine
I am the clansman
Freedom !

And I know what I want
When the timing is right
Then I'll take what is mine
I am the clansman.

The Clansman on YouTube with scenes from the movie Braveheart , as the backdrop


And this one , again by Iron Maiden , makes some sense as well . The song talks about the forced expulsion of Native Americans to the western United States, presumably during the presidency of Andrew Jackson when the moves were enforced by the U.S. Army ("soldier blue in the barren wastes"). (Wikipdia) . But doesn't it fit ?

Run to the hills

White man came across the sea
He brought us pain and misery
He killed our tribes, he killed our creed
He took our game for his own need

We fought him hard we fought him well
Out on the plains we gave him hell
But many came too much for cree
Oh will we ever be set free?

Riding through dustclouds and barren wastes
Galloping hard on the plains
Chasing the redskins back to their holes
Fighting them at their own game
Murder for freedom a stab in the back
Women and children and cowards attack

Run to the hills run for your lives
Run to the hills run for your lives

Soldier blue on the barren wastes
Hunting and killing their game
Raping the women and wasting the men
The only good Indians are tame
Selling them whisky and taking their gold
Enslaving the young and destroying the old

Run to the hills run for your lives

Run to the hills on YouTube

Image source - www.santabanta.com

The Death of My Childhood

Friends,
Bloggers ,
Countrymen ,
Countrywomen ,
in short , members of my blogging family

Of late , I have been busy working . No , I did not pick up my toilet and kitchen brush to clean the muck around us . That would require a lot more effort , and I will take a shot at it at a later stage in my life , God willing . To cut a long story , short , I was really working , and that is why , I have hardly replied to your comments . I have missed out on reading some of your posts . I have missed out on exchanging thoughts with you on some of your posts . The few that I have published , were written , long back , when I was not so busy . Thank God for that , at least my blog is not that stale . I almost didn't see the incredibly funny and imaginative posts Vimmu,OG , Solilo and the others came up with (Cross Border Terrorism and Sachai ka Saamna ) ! What I am trying to say is that , I get a little time to peek into the Blogosphere , but I will be back in full swing , soon . That is the hope . My apologies for not contributing to the blogging buzz . And this partial absence has taken a toll on me as well , for , All work and no blogging makes Kislay a dull jackass . I know I am a jackass , my friends and colleagues will surely agree with this one. :) But a tired and a dull one now , and my braying is minus the zest it usually has . I am learning to live life , and how to be an adult , who has to balance work , and life apart from work . And as a member of the IT Industry , I know it won't be easy . But I am trying .

A few weeks ago , I , Kislay Chandra , all of 25 years and a few months old , suddenly realized that my childhood is over . Yes . I know . It took me 25 , instead of your normal 15 to 20 . But then, that is how I am . For me , it was still going on , till I was struck by the thunderbolt of realization, that I cried a little bit , in private. Of course , the child in me is not dead yet. I still hog chocolates , fight for ice cream , jump and shout like a kid , hop around in my home in a vest and old shorts, air guitar like a loon when I listen to rock and try to sing as well, do bakar(a derogatory term for fooling around , doing nothing , but talking,laughing and pulling your friend's legs as hard as you can )as if my friends and I were still in College. Inside , I am still a kid . As they say , the difference between a boy and a man , is the price of his toy . The carefree child in me comes out , plays with his new toys, bikes, cell phones and videogames, the latest being a blender , which I use to make different kinds of shakes and stuff :) ,but not that often. I guess that is how it works . This is what growing up must be all about . Trying to make more money , and discovering new ways to save taxes , rather than coming up with new ways to spend it . I guess that is why childhood is such an innocent and pure stage, you get joy out of things so trivial, insignificant and ordinary, that it cannot but baffle most adults. For me, the death of a person is not the day when he or she breathes the last, it is the day when the child in you , the last bit of pristine is gone.

When I was a kid , my grandfather explained to me the concept of pooja or aradhana . There is the ritualistic version , the meditative way and the one where you try to connect with the Almighty by serving others selflessly. And then , there is your work . He said , and very explicitly , that "if you do your work , with the utmost sincerity and devotion, you need not visit a temple , or offer flowers and burn incense sticks in front of the many forms of God that we bow to" . I knew that all along, but never really did it . I am trying to do it now. And every prayer I offer , ends with a request for subuddhi and shakti to do my work as it should be done .

That was my short story , about me . I am a little down , cause I am still not used to a lot of work , but I will be up soon , as it becomes a habit . And I may be down, but I am never out. Mean while , you keep blogging .


“In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play” - Friedrich Nietzsche

“There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million.” - Walt Streightiff

“When you finally go back to your old hometown, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood” - Sam Ewing

“When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults and they enter society, one of the politer names of hell. That is why we dread children, even if we love them, they show us the state of our decay.” - Brian W. Aldiss

p.s. It was 2 AM . I had just come out of my office building . The cool breeze was reinvigorating . And that gave me an idea for - Elixir . :)

Mad World

A tall dark and handsome man entered the room. He was musing over his dark complexion, regretting that he never ever applied the skin whitening cream in his youth. His eyes went up to the bent figure sitting , or rather slumped over the chair. The prisoner looked up, cringed, and cursed himself. “Why the hell did I not take my daily dose of Parle G. I would have been out these shackles by now. But I, like a total moron, had to fall for the coke-ke-saath-dost free crap. And that blunder made me forget about my super-power biscuit.”,he thought. His eyes caught his would be tormentor’s glare. He shivered in fright, those cold eyes froze your soul. He had been trained well, even to bear the harshest of the tortures. He even had his macro-man vest on. But he wondered whether he would be able to fend off this fiend’s attempts. The tormentor switched on the TV. “May be , they are going to give me a test of some sorts”. The colors came on. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness of TV, he started feeling an increasing sensation of numbness. And then it hit him, like a blitzkrieg, and he was fading away. The last word he heard was “Jai Shree Krishna Baa………”.

He was in a semi-comatose state. He had this weird nightmare, in flashes of, pasty faced over made up woman, dressed in expensive sarees. There were a lot of families involved. And almost all of them looked the same age , he couldn’t make out mother form daughter. He passed out again.

He came to his senses. His head felt heavy. He tried grapple with the situation. It took him a while to recall the events before the black out. It seemed that he had a memory loss of some sorts. He retched. His vision was blurry . It took him some effort to open his eyes. The TV was still on . Some young people were arguing with each other on this show. He couldn't make out half of what he said, the other half was beeped. As he watched more and more of it, the dull throbbing which had started in his head, turned into a splitting head-ache. He tried to figure out what was going on . Even in his own mentally disheveled state, he could figure out that a bunch of demented but stylish young men and women were involved in some extremely imbecilic and asinine acts , which obviously did not involve the use of one's brain. 10 minutes into the show, the prisoner just collapsed . His captor grinned, his teeth shining out . He was a Colgate man, and never missed to brush his teeth with the best Oral care had to offer, certified by dentists all over. He was wondering whether to bunk this interrogation session or not, as he nursed a bottle of Fanta in his hand. His techniques were not working, so far the prisoner had just drifted in and out, and showed no signs of surrender . “Eh”, he said,” Let's wait a while, and while I am waiting, I can help some poor villager get some power”. With these words, he turned on his new Voltas AC. As the AC started regurgitating power, he fell into a reverie . He wondered whether to buy some vaseline body lotion for his teenaged daughter. He wanted her to be a better tennis player, and so far , actually working on playing better tennis had not helped her. His son was still hopeless. Even the liberal doses of Mentos didn't help him pass a single subject. He wondered why every product he had ever used never worked as the advertisement promised it would . Perplexed, and tired, he fell asleep.

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To be continued , whenever I can garner some patience, better words and enough exasperation as a result of watching incredibly dumb advertisements, news anchors, and glimpses of TV shows . Par aap dekhna mat bhoolna , “Rakhee Sawant ka Swayamvar” . And if I were the producer of that show, I would introduce two new rounds to this kickass(so bad , that you want to kick your own butt) modern day “real life” drama .

1.So dumb that you should die round – This will be offered to the contestants . I would approach them personally , and offer them a desert eagle with enough bullets to end their existence , as they chose to be on of the suitors. It is not Rakhee , it is more so because this nautanki will be aired on TV , and they have no qualms about it .

2.Everyone-should-get-a-second-chance-and-die-now-or-die-painfully-later-round – This will be offered to the winner . The lucky man , will be asked to end it right here, right now, before he actually gets married . Since this man refused the first offer, this time, I will offer him a sword or a long dagger , as he deserves to die a slightly painful death, for humiliating himself.


I must add, that though I am not a fan of Ms. Sawant , I think she has guts. And the satire was directed more at the audience willing to gobble up Grade A Horse Shit like this, and then asking for more.I am not calling for a ban on shows like these . I hate them , it is my personal view , and obviously I don't watch it . But what is more infuriating , and dumber , is the debates on whether shows like these should be aired in India or not . There was one going on the yesterday, on some we-are-the-only-credible-source-and-we-are-so-full-of-ourselves English news channel . Pooja Bedi was one of the debaters . Mahajan Junior another . And the most important and the most intelligent one, according to yours truly was a guy , who was , I guess the representative of the PFBS , i.e People Full of BS , i.e Bhartiya Sanskriti . I don't want to write down everything he said or why I disagree with it . Just one would be enough . He said "Humare yahan , jab koi aurat pregnant hoti hai , to hum yeh nahi kehte ki woh pet se hai , hum yeh kehte hain ki uska paanv bhari hai . Yeh hai Bhartiya Sanskirit " . I was stumped after hearing this . I mean , how is it the term used to describe a woman who is carrying a new life related to Bhartiya Sanskriti ? I mean , WTF . Am I an idiot that I don't get it ? Do you get it ? What was he trying to say ? I still don't get it . Please , for the love of BS , tell me . And Pooja Bedi was in hysterics .

One last thought . The way things are , please do not feel surprised if one fine day , the ignoranuses(ignorant assholes) who debate on such stupid topics , make an issue out of Western style toilets . They might come up with something like - "As a western toilet is too comfortable for ablutions , it makes the Common Indian Man/Woman forget , that he/she has to struggle everyday for existence , and so is against the ethos of Bhartiya Sanskriti " , or words to that effect . Or , if not this , then something worse than this , which would be - "Woman should not be allowed to use Western toilets , as the seat is on a higher level compared to the desi one . And , as men are inherently superior to woman , only they should be allowed to relieve themselves comfortable , and from a higher plane " , or some more BS to that effect . You think I am crazy , huh ? Wait for the day .

After all, it is a Mad World .

Mercurial

Ever wondered when did the phrase “India-Pak match” became synonymous with a “fierce battle between two groups perceived as radically different from each other, where defeat is unacceptable, and even if the victory is Pyrrhic” ? When did it become a symbol of the clash of the arch-rivals, mortal enemies, of friends and foes ? Since when did it symbolize aggressive conflict, violent and red ?

It is most interesting , that when an actual India-Pak match does take place, even the most apathetic person to this game turns into a cricket-is-my-religion type super patriotic fan who swears by the game. In all likelihood, they have never played, they don't know much about it , they don't give a rat's ass usually, and yet, you find them at the edge of their sweats, jeering the other team more than cheering their own. For this brand new fan of this sport, it is no longer a war of the bat,ball and human spirit; but of pride and religion. Winning is of the utmost importance because it wounds the pride of the other. It is no longer a game but it is War between the very Gods they worship. If you have heard the crass jokes on it , you would know what I am talking about. For them, their religion comes before the nation. For they cannot conceive the notion that both were a part of a larger nation. They shed blood through halaals and jhatkas for a victory .

I guess, it was their kind, who could not see beyond their “own”, and in their short sightedness , upset the equilibrium established by time and fate. All they ended up with was a deep rift , ever widening . And just imagine how much more colorful life would have been , if there were more pieces in this picture, more characters in this play, more nations carved of the old one, a multi-national tournament of blood and feud .

Leave them aside, the actual fans of the sport, living for the next match, practicing their yells. Those who think of themselves as patriot-cum-jingo's, where in fact , all they are capable of is shout harder,swear sharper and burn more fat and blood. They are the ones whose “patriotic feelings” disappear like some cheap,fast vaporizing deodorant, drowning gradually, in the stench of sweating over the contest. When the match gets over, it fades out of existence. From “Go India Go” to “Who cares , as long as it doesn't affect me directly” . You might say, why the pretense to be so overly patriotic , when they actually aren't ? Because deep down , they know the truth , but to drown the voice of their conscience with their pretentious over enthusiastic screams , which gives some gratification . The heat of their passionate cries warms them up somewhat, for sometime.

When the match gets over, they go back then to their lives, back to their squabbles. They look for a common enemy to unite them , rather than accepting differences among their own. They go back to surviving and profiteering, the real fans and the fake ones . Living as they do , till the next Indo-Pak match , or whatever pumps them with their periodic dose of Patriotism .

Elixir

At last, he found a place. It was dark,dingy and shabby, but it would do. He locked the door. The cubicle was air tight. Although he was sweating profusely and slightly out of breath, he couldn't care less. The release would come soon. He had been looking forward to it, all day long. His excitement was visible, like the child who enters an ice cream shop. He was palpitating .

With unhurried hands, he took it out gingerly, and put it into the conical chamber. It would be ready in a while. He let out a slightly impatient sigh, as he went over his day. It had been very long , and very hard. Grueling to the gills. The fact that he needed his fix every now and then didn't help at all. And to add to his woes, he was an asthmatic . But what is a man supposed to do ? How can you handle the dreariness of daily life , when you are so accustomed to it ? His brain craved for it. It almost shut down every now and then . His skin showed the signs as well .

The light had turned green. The vapour was ready to be inhaled. He decided to save some in his flask, for a later dose. And then, he dove in.

A few seconds later, he was on cloud nine, with a rainbow around his shoulders. Euphoric . Ecstatic . Elated. Pleased . Content . Relaxed . He could feel it in his head and heart . And his lungs too. So pure and pristine was the pleasure he experienced, that he almost passed out.

It was, an elixir. He stayed there for an hour. And then left, a relatively happier man. He knew he couldn't live without it , and looked forward to the next rendezvous.







It was 2049 , A.D. He came out of the roadside artificial oxygen booth.



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p.s. How many of you thought that my character was a drug addict ? :) And pardon the scientific inaccuracies , if any . And I guess , the moral of my story is clear enough . To those who didn't get it , what drug are you on ? ;)

The Cook and The Janitor

Thanks to Smitha and Indyeah :)

Religion is like a kitchen . The food for your soul is cooked . It should be the food for your soul , cooked by people who should be well versed in that art . The different religions/faiths/schools of thought could be the different cuisines . It caters to different kinds of people with different needs . A good cook would be the one focusing on cooking a nutritious meal , without making a song and dance about the ingredients , the utensils or the people who eat it . He wouldn't force the food he likes down anyone's throat . He wouldn't decide whom to feed or not. He would also check his own recipe if people have an upset stomach or food poisoning .

Politics is like a toilet . It has devolved into this state . A dirty , filthy , stinking toilet . One that needs to be clean for the general well being for our society . One that is responsible for the many diseases that our society suffers from . A toilet , that is should be cleaned and maintained by custodians, chosen by us , but they usually end up doing something else , many a times in cahoots with , or under the influence of some really crooked cooks . That is why a person , who enters politics with very pure intentions , would be nothing short of a great social worker , willing to manage and clean the society's sewage .

Now what happens when you don't separate the kitchen and the toilet ? What happens if the janitor and the cook start messing with each others work ? First , you get some really bad food . Let's say , you some how digest it . When the time for your ablutions come , all you have is a dirty toilet ? And heaven forbid , if you are sick , then you are screwed . Picture the janitor promising good food, or the cook directing you to choose a particular janitor , or the janitor favouring a particular kitchen . How bloody disturbing and messy does it all sound ! I can picture the cook and the janitor running to and fro , from the kitchen and the toilet . And what happens when the cook starts cleaning or the janitor starts cooking ?

Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh !!!!!




Secularism is a must , in its pure and unadulterated form .

Param Veer

Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express could not cool his frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to air travel. It was not the prestige he sought; he had tried to reason with the admin person, it was the savings in time. As PM, he had so many things to do!! He opened his case and took out the laptop, determined to put the time to some good use."Are you from the software industry sir," the man beside him was staring appreciatively at the laptop.Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive car. "You people have brought so much advancement to the country, Sir. Today everything is getting computerized.""Thanks," smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look. He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young and well built like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of place in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep school.He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his free traveling pass.

"You people always amaze me," the man continued, "You sit in an office and write something on a computer and it does so many big things outside." Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naivety demanded reasoning not anger. "It is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of writing a few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it." For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software Development Lifecycle but restrained himself to a single statement. "It is complex, very complex." "It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid," came the reply.

This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence crept into his so far affable, persuasive tone. " Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we have to put in. Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work. Just because we sit in an air-conditioned office, does not mean our brows do not sweat. You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe me that is no less taxing." He could see, he had the man where he wanted, and it was time to drive home the point."Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket between any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized booking centres across the country.Thousands of transactions accessing a single database, at a time concurrently; data integrity, locking, data security. Do you understand the complexity in designing and coding such a system?"The man was awestruck; quite like a child at a planetarium.This was something big and beyond his imagination. "You design and code such things.""I used to," Vivek paused for effect, "but now I am the Project Manager." "Oh!" sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over, "so your life is easy now." This was like the last straw for Vivek. He retorted, "Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder. Responsibility only brings more work.Design and coding! That is the easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done in time and with the highest quality. To tell you about the pressures, there is the customer at one end, always changing his requirements, the user at the other, wanting something else, and your boss, always expecting you to have finished it yesterday."Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with self-realization.What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while defending the truth. "My friend," he concluded triumphantly, "you don't know what it is to be in the Line of Fire".

The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization. When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that surprised Vivek.

"I know sir, I know what it is to be in the Line of Fire." He was staring blankly, as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast expanse of time."There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the cover of the night. The enemy was firing from the top. There was no knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom. In the morning when we finally hoisted the Tricolour at the top only 4 of us were alive."

"You are a...?"

"I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 J&K Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in Kargil.They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a soft assignment.But, tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it makes life easier. On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues lay injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding behind a bunker. It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to safety. But my captain sahib (Captain Batra) refused me permission and went ahead himself. He said that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put the safety and welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety and welfare of the men he commanded,his own personal safety came last, always and every time."




"He was killed as he shielded and brought that injured soldier into the bunker. Every morning thereafter, as we stood guard, I could see him taking all those bullets, which were actually meant for me. I know sir....I know,what it is to be in the Line of Fire."

Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of how to respond. Abruptly, he switched off the laptop. It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a Word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a daily part of life; valour and sense of duty which he had so far attributed only to epical heroes.

The train slowed down as it pulled into the station, and Subedar Sushant picked up his bags to alight. "It was nice meeting you sir."

Vivek fumbled with the handshake. This hand... had climbed mountains,pressed the trigger, and hoisted the Tricolour. Suddenly, as if by impulse, he stood up at attention and his right hand went up in an impromptu salute.It was the least he felt he could do for the country.

Source - A forwarded email
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Captain Vikram Batra was awarded the Param Vir Chakra, India's highest military honor on 15 August 1999, the 52nd anniversary of India's independence. His father Mr. G.L. Batra received the honor for his deceased son from the President of India, the late K.R. Narayanan. Captain Vikram Batra, 13 JAK Rifles, and his Delta Company was given the task of recapturing Point 5140. Nicknamed Sher Shah ('Lion King' in Hindi) for his unstinting courage, he decided to lead the rear, as an element of surprise would help stupefy the enemy. He and his men ascended the sheer rock-cliff, but as the group neared the top, the enemy pinned them on the face of the bare cliff with machine gun fire. Captain Batra, along with five of his men, climbed up regardless and after reaching the top, hurled two grenades at the machine gun post. He single-handedly killed three enemy soldiers in close combat. He was seriously injured during this, but insisted on regrouping his men to continue with the mission. Inspired by the courage displayed by Captain Batra, the soldiers of 13 JAK Rifles charged the enemy position and captured Point 5140 at 3:30 a.m. on 20 June 1999. His company is credited with killing at least eight Pakistani soldiers and recovering a heavy machine gun.The capture of Point 5140 set in motion a string of successes, such as Point 5100, Point 4700, Junction Peak and Three Pimples. Along with fellow Captain Anuj Nayyar, Batra led his men to victory with the recapture of Point 4750 and Point 4875. He was killed when he tried to rescue an injured officer during an enemy counterattack against Point 4875 in the early morning hours of 7 July 1999. His last words were, "Jai Mata Di." ('Hail the Divine Mother'). For his sustained display of the most conspicuous personal bravery and leadership of the highest order in the face of the enemy, Captain Vikram Batra was awarded the Param Vir Chakra.


Batra's Yeh Dil Maange More! (My heart asks for more!), erstwhile a popular slogan for a Pepsi commercial, became an iconic battle cry that swept across the country and remains popular with millions of Indians, invoked at patriotic public events, in memory of the war and the soldiers, and as a symbol of the indomitable spirit of Indian patriotism and valor in face of future attacks.

Upon reaching Point 5140, he got into a cheeky radio exchange with an enemy commander, who challenged him by saying, "Why have you come Sher Shah (Vikram’s nick name given by his commanding officer)? You will not go back." Captain Vikram Batra is said to have replied, "We shall see within one hour, who remains on the top."

While dragging Lt. Naveen back under cover, Naveen pleaded to Captain Batra to let him continue the fight in spite the injuries to which Captain Batra replied "Tu baal bachedaar hai!! Hatt jaa peeche," ("You have kids and wife to look after! Get back!").

Batra's last words were the battle-cry "Jai Mata Di!" ("Victory to Mother Durga!")

"Ya toh Tiranga lehrake awunga, ya fir Tirange mein lipta huwa awunga, lekin awunga" (Either I will come back after hoisting the Indian flag, or I will come back wrapped in it, but i will be back for sure).


Source - Wikipedia
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He was 25 when he sacrificed his life , 10 years ago . I am 25 now . I cannot but only dream of making such a sacrifice and dying such an honourable death .




Image Source - Google Image Search

Jilted Lovers II

Ladies and Gentle Bloggers , Jilted Lovers is back , courtesy some of my female friends . I must say , had I been at the receiving end of these incredible messages , I would have considered castration or a sex change operation .

Lower your IQ , loosen you belt , and laugh out loud ! My comments in italics . :)

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hiiii...can be frndzzz do cre to rply...!!!

This guy appears as: I WaNt 2 C MiNe DeATh CerTiFiCaTe:) . I think he needs to see a certificate assuring us of his sound mental health .


Hiii... i i m also a b.tech student in gzb. may v frenzzz...

If only all single and desperate to mingle B.Tech students from the IIT's and the NIT's could use this , life would would be a lot rosier for them .

Hi may i frndshp with u

First you mental-checkup-with-loony-doctor .


hi im .. jst cmpltd Msc, wrking fr a s/w cmpny jst saw ur profile yar its interesting... wanna hav friendship with u.. if willing pl reply...

Screw you , I no longer "do friendship" with Software Engineers . Your market value has crashed . Contact me after 2014 , when the Recession is over .

Hi.i cant ask u to b my frend as u know nothing about me.but wud like to talk to u if u dnt mind as i m also frm aligarh n now working in bangalore

I can be a fiend to you , and to all the other losers from Loony-garh working in Bangalore .

well about me i m n i m from Lucknow and and and i have done my Mass Comm from Aligarh Muslim University and i stay at Bangalore and i like mind
ice-cream with cery and i love my cat, and bla bla bla and n urs like n dislike...! n u r college

He likes “mind ice-cream with cery” ! Very scary . Any relation to Dr. Hannibal Lecter ? And how did he end up at AMU ? He did not learn to communicate with a single person , leave alone the masses . He sounds like a total jackass to me . I wish he gets hired by NDTV or CNN-IBN .


This is Chandan ..Working in Air Force...Looking 4 a Sweet friend...So if u wana interested to fly on the wings of friendship Wid me.....get ready den...I am
ready to take off now......

If you friendship is anything like the MiG's , fly solo .

Very soon, i will at bangalore............

You will what , crash land ?

plz do reply ..Waiting for ur positive response...bye...take care

Here is my response > + respone ! :P


This the gem , the master piece , the best and the brightest of the lot -

AND 1 THING FOR GALS PLZZ...
never think dat i m d type of guy(like oders)who likes 2 talk 2 every gal only bcoz of d reason dat she is a gal....i realy respect gud gals a lot..but today
most of d gals do not understand d diference b/w becoming a modern gal n a vulgar gal.....so if u r a gud gal den u r most welcome..if not, den stay away 4m
me as i just cant tolerate such shameless gals..(so such gals... dnt send me a frend request..it wil never b accepted).....so only dose gals(strangers) wil b
geting frend request from my side who seems 2 b gud....dont take me in wrong way....i know how 2 behave wid gals..but 1st become such dat i feel proud 2 say
dat i have a frend who deserves 2 b call a GIRL. now ur wish.......sorry if i hurt anyone....(i know most of d gals wnt like al dis n wil not talk 2 me bcoz
of al dat stuff writen dere....but i also know wat type of gals dose wud b...so it dnst effect me..as i realy luv being hated by such gals..)

Boy oh Boy ! I am stumped . His audacity ! The stink of MCP-ness coming from him . He loves to be hated by "vulgar gals" . He wants "good gals" in his good books, so that he can be proud of them . Is he a member of the SRS ? I think the PCC should be re-launched just to smother him with pink panties .

hiiiiii can u add me ass frdf????????????

How honest of him ! He accepts that he is an ass . "me - ass" !

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

""friendly 4u"" (_sexy4u@yahoo.com)

He is friendly . He is sexy . And the extra i's in his Hi account for the number of incompetent idiots he is worth . The number of exclamation marks are the
number of times he was hit on the head with a big fat stick , by some well wisher of his , to knock some sense into him . Did it help ?

"can't we be frnds kya yaar plzz do let me know abut this plzzz

hi hw r u doing?hey can't we be frnds yaar plzz do reply me........will wait for ur reply.

hi hw r u doing?????????can we be frnds????????"

He had been poisoned . The anti-dote to the poison is a chemical called stupidomorphin , which is released when he sends friend requests to random girls . The more loserish he sounds , the more chemicals his body secretes , the longer he lives . Inspired from Crank .


hi dear..new n orkut.......welcum buddy...........!!!!!!!!!!!!

His handle was PJ . He has been appointed as the HR/PR/Liaison officer for Orkut , to welcome new members and make them feel welcome . It would be shame of
somebody was friendless even after joining a social networking website , wouldn't it ?

serial kisser - photography is my passion

Yes , his handle is serial kisser ! Need I say more ?

hi friend how r u aur batao kaisi ho aur kya kar rahi ho

Your friend is cursing the day she decided to join this particular social networking website .


hiiiiiiiiii can we be friends

This message was sent by “i am alone... want to be alone”. He is alone , no surprises there . And he wants to be alone, then why does he need friends ?


The Hot chocolate boy

He thinks his handle makes him hot and a boy with chocolatey looks . I think it can also mean a hot chocolate – boy , bole to , one who serves or sells hot chocolate . I bet he didn't think of that .

can v b afrnd?

No comments here

When you are feeling all alone Down-hearted, sad and blue,And you think that there's just no one

Actually , I thought there are no more fools like you , the Universe must have run out of your kind . But I was wrong . And that is why I am blue, sad and down hearted . Alone , waiting for intelligent life on Orkut .

The Necessary Evil

Neo would not have appeared as awe inspiring, had Agent Smith been a weaker character, a lesser sentient being (The Matrix). Had there been no Joker , Gotham City would have never realized the huge sacrifice Batman made (The Dark Knight). The greatness of the Dark Knight would not have been revealed; and it is in proportion to how great a character the Joker himself was. Frodo, Aragorn and Gandalf needed Sauron to sustain their goodness (The Lord of the Rings), just as Ergaon needs Galbatorix . And where would my dear Sherlock Holmes be without Professor Moriarity ?


The analogies I have employed are borrowed mostly from books and movies, but they would make sense to you, if you are familiar with them.


What would have been the stature of Gandhi in the absence of an evil British Empire? Would we ever know what sweet is without tasting bitter? Would good be perceived as good, if there was no evil? I think not.


We need Evil, to realize what good is all about. It is not there to punish us or make us worship or pray to the tall man in flowing robes with a white beard and a booming voice holding a staff of gold out of fear or reverence , but rather to complete the picture , and balance the system . Good and evil are the two sides of the same coin. Evil is like the force of friction , which slows down a wheel; but will the wheel ever turn and move forward if there was no friction ? It is as much an integral part of the vicious Cycle as Good is. I can never imagine a state of where humanity is either all evil or all good. That is why World Peace is nothing but a Utopian dream.


The wholeness of any entity in this world is dependent upon an entity opposite to it, one which either complements or negates it, be it the nature, physical attributes or quality. Man and Woman, Yin and Yang, a proton and an electron, they all come in pairs, as does Good and Evil. While on one hand , it is disappointing the existence of good is dependent upon evil , that even when everything appears to be as sunny as it could ever be, there is darkness lurking by ; on the other hand, even the darkest of clouds have a silver king , the most evil of men will be conquered by the forces of Good, happiness will follow sadness . Once again, they complement each other in philosophical reasoning as well.


Good needs Evil. How can one bask in the warmth emanated by goodness, if one has never felt the soul freezing chill of Evil? Dostoevsky's words come to my mind. "It is easier to denounce evil, than to understand it". A villainous character will be swore at , but if you step out of the system , then you realize that the bad man , actually is a major player in the chain of events that unfolded, due to which the World is the way it is . If he is removed a little too early or a little too late, the consequences would be disastrous for sure. Remove Adolf Hitler out of the historical picture , and the EU and the UN would disappear as well. In fact, so would the technological revolution which was ushered during and after the WW II. Imagine, if mankind was oblivious of the abstract notions of good and evil, try and contemplate as to what would have happened. I see inertness. I see no life. For can the process of creation be actually initiated in the absence of destruction?


This balance between good and evil also attempts to explain God, as to something which is not dependent on an opposite, to be in its natural form or a state ; something neither good or evil or encompassing both good and evil . If I confused you , please ponder over it. From this definition of God, consciousness, the life force within living beings, can be explained as an entity which is just there, neither created nor destroyed, purest form of energy ; and it just changes its host environment. From the body a house-fly to body a mighty human. Imagine, a super consciousness, which is made up of such innumerable consciousnesses. Imagine, if you could, a being, which is made up these minuscule life-forces, the way our bodies are made up of cells. And think about what you really are, an organism who struts around the Earth with a puffed chest, when the spark inside you and a humble ant, is the same. If mankind, and all the living species were perishable toys , then the consciousness is like the battery powering it .


All of a sudden, the existence of Aghories make sense.


A mosquito irritates and bites us, and sometimes infects us with a virus that may even cause death. Doesn’t that make it an evil creature, one befitting death and elimination? Hail All-Out, eh? But what is it doing, if nothing but merely what it was designed to do? Suck blood. And what are we designed to do? Suck the planet dry, for one. But also, we are here to survive, and we do so in a multitude of ways. So while we are doing our duty as a species, so is the mosquito. And that is why we need to break free of the system, which has us trapped in, moving in circles, on many different levels. Cycles of life and death, of sickness and health, of happiness and sadness, of rags and riches, of the different states of existence, as a mosquito or a man, an ant or an elephant. A system which presents us with a picture so bright and beautiful, that we often fail to ask the right question “who painted it and why”? A fruit so tempting and delicious to look at, touch,feel and eat, that we forget about the tree. A design which creates an ingenious Virtual Reality. Evil is just doing its job; to be a bad ass, and kick the Good guys whenever and wherever they can. Denouncing it is just not enough, an effort to understand it is important as well, for the truer and clearer picture to emerge. This might give a clue to the meaning of existence, the purpose of life. And that is why I think, that Evil is a manifestation of that very Supreme consciousness .


"Evil is not simply the contradiction of good that can be avoided by goodness; instead it is an aspect of good itself that we have separated from good so that the other side may continue to exist as good" - Source Unknown


“There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it.” - Buddha


p.s. What I have written is based on my own negligible understanding of why things are the way are . This is neither the first word , nor the final one .

The Traveler,The Peasant and The Brahmin

A traveler, Muslim by faith, passing through a predominantly Hindu village, pleaded for shelter to a peasant of moderate affluence. The peasant was aware of the difference in their faiths, he knew that stranger standing before him was a beef-eater, one who called him a kaafir and prayed to his Allah. But he also saw a hungry man; he could relate to his tiredness as someone who has plowed his own fields, the traveler’s weariness was no stranger to him as one who was at the mercy of agents beyond his influence, factors beyond his control. The drooping beard, the disheveled hair and the pangs of hunger on his sweaty face appealed to the human in him. In his heart of hearts, he wanted to help this man. But he was hesitant. So, he decided to consult the priest of the village, a shrewd and learned Brahmin. The Brahmin scoffed at the idea of him helping a musalman and threatened him with dire consequences if he did so. He used his learning and eloquence to explain what a grave sin he was going to commit. He reasoned with the peasant, whether he actually wanted to give shelter to a cow-killer? The Brahmin smiled, inwardly, when the peasant left with a squarer jaw and a flinty look in his eyes. The Mohammedan was given the boot, no surprises there. The Hindu was saved from desecrating his dharma. He was happy, even proud, of his actions, considering it a step closer to Heaven.

Now, why did the Brahmin inspire the peasant in such a way? It was not because he actually believed in what he preached. Oh No! He was well versed in his shastras, he was aware of his first and foremost duty as a human, as a member of the family this World is. Vasudeva kutumbam was what his sacred texts had taught him. Had he been in a similar pickle, he would have actually cooked for the poor traveler, as he knew that, Atithi Devo Bhava. He had no objection to his being a Muslim, for he truly believed in Sarva Dharma Sambhava. But his knowledge did not deter him from doing what he did. Because it did not help him. The good will that the peasant would have earned was of no use to him. The control he had over the peasant, and his kind, was more important and beneficial to him. If the peasant somehow came to know, that his natural instincts and his common sense kept him on the morally and ethically right path, that he did not need the Brahmin’s wisdom, for what Life taught him was through its myriad ways was enough for him to live with his head held high, that he could reject the Brahmin’s wisdom if it did not appear wise to him; the Brahmin would lose the power he wielded over him, and subsequently the others. In an indirect fashion, the priest also influenced the Muslim’s lives, by ensuring that he was not sheltered. His one word could have been the difference between life and death for the traveler. Power was the most sinful delicacy the Brahmin had ever tasted.

But he forgot, that the power he acquired through gaining the good will of such Hindu peasants and Muslim travelers was purer, whiter and not easy to vanquish, as compared to what he wielded through control, deception and obfuscation. The surrender of the peasant and traveler to his will may or may not be a natural result, unwilling and half-hearted, but the good will of a fellow man cannot be forced out of him.

We all condemn Divide-and-Rule, but we all indulge in it, I think, if not consciously, then sub or un consciously. We all have been the Brahmin, the Peasant or the Muslim once.

The Brahmin could have been a Mullah,a Padri and the traveler a Hindu or a Sikh. It would all be the same. Humanity is so hell bent bickering , waging wars against each other , fellow species and Mother Nature , that it forgets why we are humans in the first place . An intelligent life form must have a higher purpose other than mere existence , at least not the way we exist now . Is it too much to expect this from Gaya's most intelligent child , to live with all the possible imperfections , but in a way which ensures that life itself is not threatened ?

Creative Disclaimer - No disrespect or mal intent intended towards Muslims , Non Brahmin Hindu peasants or Brahmins , in general . It is just a story , please treat it like one .

Black Box of Secularism

I mentioned something called a BBS in this post, The Case for our next PM . So here it goes , the BS about a BBS !

Black box is a technical term for a device, system or object when it is viewed in terms of its input, output and transfer characteristics without any knowledge required of its internal workings. Almost anything might occasionally be referred to as a black box: a transistor, an algorithm, humans, the Internet, the way political parties in India function and interpret Secularism (I added the last one). The opposite of a black box is a system where the inner components or logic are available for inspection (such as a free software/open source program), which is sometimes known as a white box, a glass box, or a clear box.

Secularism is the assertion that governmental practices or institutions should exist separately from religion and/or religious beliefs. In one sense, secularism may assert the right to be free from religious rule and teachings, and freedom from the government imposition of religion upon the people, within a state that is neutral on matters of belief, and gives no state privileges or subsidies to religions. In another sense, it refers to the view that human activities and decisions, especially political ones, should be based on evidence and fact unbiased by religious influence.

So why is the BBS, a black box? Well, it says it is secular, but you don't know what the hell is going on inside. You expect it to be secular in all contexts and in all the four dimensions, but it chooses its environment selectively. You expect it to be secular, the way secularism is defined, but it follows its own pattern, as if a very highly evolved AI controls it. Unlike the communal forces of India, who are openly communal, it is mystery as to how those who claim to be secular are so? As I said, you don’t know what goes inside the bloody black box. You are not supposed to know. The result is computed on the basis of the input. You have to kill your curiosity about how was it actually computed, and be content with the result.

Being black, it absorbs all the negative communal energy and radiates positive secular energy. The BBS is incredibly effective in blocking out saffron rays. Say, you are getting irritated by the pakhandi baba who is preaching about the benefits of sanyas, perched on a plush cushion in an air-conditioned room, just take out the mini black box. First it will drain the colour out of his robes, and subsequently, his energy. But we must tell you, the designers of this black box were targeting a specific kind of communal crowd. This device absorbs the harmful communal energy emanated by the Saffron brigade only. So if any you thought that air dropping thousands of these over Pakistan or Afghanistan would be the perfect solution, BOO HOO, it is NOT. And neither will it work on the Khalistanis or the aggressively proselytizing Missionaries.

As some we buffoons in the software industry say, “In God we trust, everything else we test”. Even this ingenious device was tested exhaustively, after the development of the first prototype. It was tested on one of the popular leaders of Uttar Pradesh who is, or rather was a key conspirator in the Babri Masjid demolition. To assess its actual effectiveness, it was done without his active knowledge, and lo-and-behold, he turned secular. He switched from a clearly communal party to an absolutely secular party. It was the single-most greatest moment for the Scientists who worked on this project. There have been numerous other success stories as well. One recent incident involved the questioning the circumstances of the death of a super cop, and giving it a Hindutva angle. In this case, certain political leaders, political activists and sections of the media were under the influence. A famous author, who writes about God, small things and how India asks for attacks like 26/11, has had one of her kidneys replaced with a BBS. It is not well known, that a noted film maker who recently came out with a movie on one of the most infamous riots in India, attached a mini-BBS as an appendage to the cameras that were used to shoot the movie. Many political leaders, who rant about what happened in this 02, and forget about what happened in 84, are wearing lockets which have a micro-BBS’s in its chamber. It is quite possible that this could be the reason why the cause of the Kashmiri Pundits goes unnoticed. A key ally of the NDA, which switched sides in the recent elections, did so because a multi-million MW BBS was installed in their party HQ. The terrorist-cum-politician, one of the key suspects in the Coimbatore bomb blasts, was under the influence of the BBS when he apologized for his “misdemeanor”. This is an anomaly, for we did not expect the BBS to work on this kind of communalism .Our other similar attempts have failed, as the design dictates they should (Saffron only). And this is a wild shot, and though it has never been questioned, my gut says the BBS had a role here. Remember the day one of the prominent communal leaders and PM-aspirant in the 09 Elections showered praised on the man who divided India? It could have been the result of the telescopic BBS gun, which is still in its infancy. I have my doubts, but I am willing to bet on it.

While I am not sure, but I think that the communal forces have developed a prototype to reverse the secular and induce the communal effect. This project is still in its experimental stages, and given the rate at which indigenous technology is developed in India, it will take a while for it to be fully successful. Of all the test subjects I am aware of, the only one it worked on was the brother of a politician from Kashmir, who is going to be inducted as Minister in this Government. He, and I heard on this TV, did not disapprove of the Babri Masjid demolition. Yes. Believe it or not. Apparently, places of prayer should not be built upon disputed sites; hence the demolition was actually a favour to the minority community. I concur that the fundamental principle of the device may be right, but the implementation needs a lot more R&D.

Coming back to BS, err, I mean BBS . The key element used in the BBS is Secularium. It has a variable half life, and depends on the object it is acting on. (The half-life of a quantity whose value decreases with time is the interval required for the quantity to decay to half of its initial value). For instance, a strong willed person might wipe out all trace of this element from his system, if he had to gain something under the guise of being communal. Say, you are not happy with the Secular party for not getting a ticket, you can suddenly start screaming “Hindutva!” , buy a trident , start wearing t shirts with Om on it, beat up a few women, rant and rave about Bhartiya or Hindu sanskriti , and then join the Communal party . But as I said, you need to be strong willed. Spineless, yet strong willed.

1 sJ (Secular-Joule) is the amount of energy radiated by the BBS, to bring about a tiny change in an individual, comparable to secularizing one cell, subject to the condition that the person has not been exposed to communal energies for more than an year. The amount of energy needed to bring about the desired change, is directly proportional to the period and degree of exposure. I think Varun Gandhi can be brought back into the secular fold. Praveen Togadia is a lost case, unless we explode the thermonuclear BBS device.

It has been found, that similar to nuclear radiation, over exposure to the BBS may induce cancerous growth in your body, which will reject everything saffron or some close shade of it. So say bye bye to Fanta, Mirinda, Mangoes, Orange Rasgullas and Halwa-with-Kesar in it. One of the test subjects, who was given a more liberal dose, reacted very violently when a triangular shaped saffron flag was waved in front of him. It was worse than when a bull sees red. (*Brainwave* A new phrase, instead of a “bull sees red”, a “secular sees saffron”). Another test subject with a similar high level of Secularium in his blood stream, who had just helped himself to six large helpings of Spanish paella valenciana, suffered from diarrhea and vomiting, and the team had to struggle hard to save him.

Under the influence of BSS, one might just perceive the world, especially India, into shades of communal and secular. So, one is either of the two, and the rest of the factors be damned. For instance, the junta of Delhi is secular because they voted for Sheila Deikshit, but those of Chhattisgarh or MP are communal as they voted back BJP. Also, the current victory of the UPA is a victory of secularism over communalism, no other variables involved.

The full scope of the BBS is yet to be discovered. One of our scientists, while on a break, put a mini-BBS prototype on a TV. What he observed was that only a certain number of news channels could be viewed, the ones which seem to favour a particular political party of India. What was even more interesting was that the voice and arguments of their famous journalists became louder, stronger and shriller. For the communal one, that might cause an ear bleed, or a brain hemorrhage. The BBS could be a potential weapon, an insidious and deadly one.

The BBS has, as its key components, certain sensors, of a very special kind, the element Secularium, intricate circuitry, and a flawless software. My apologies for not divulging more information. How the hell will it be a black box if you know everything about it? More importantly, the understanding of such a device is beyond your plebian intelligence. By the way, the software was not written by TCS, we will have you know. TCS->Tata->Ratan Tata->Nano->Gujarat, get the drift. Back to the BBS, it is a devious machine. Say, a person is standing near it. This machine sends electrical signals, similar to the ones that are generated in your brain when you think, which produces a thought in his mind. A Sample – Should Afzal Guru be hanged? The BBS then gauges the response from the person, by reading the output, the resulting electrical signals generated. If the answer indicates that the person is communal in nature, the Secularium swings into action. Simple, yet very effective.

The BBS comes in many shapes, sizes and strengths . We might come up with a USB compatible BBS drive , for curing communal bloggers , the author of Orange, for instance.

That's all folks. So far, this product has been a classified one. Soon, we plan to mass produce it, launch a massive media campaign and popularize it. Obviously, the English Media would help us, because they themselves are patrons of Indian Secularism. We hope to accomplish this before the communal forces develop a fully functional GCB (Glass Box of Communalism) prototype. We have come with the name of the company which will be selling this engineering marvel, INC. And please, I know what some of you communal idiots must have thought; INC stands for Indian-Neutralizer-of-Communalism. We are looking for a kickass slogan. If you have an idea, please mail it to secular_till_India_dies@INC.co.in . The winner gets a trip to Italy.

The following is the script of the advertisement we plan to air sometime in the future. All characters in the following idea-of-an-Ad are fictitious. Any resemblance to a person living or dead, is purely co-incidental

Rahul and Varun are two estranged brothers. Due to communal company, and over-saffronization, Varun is dying in a hospital, battling for his life, when in a moment of excruciation, he forgets all his differences, and shouts out a loud and resonant, “Bhaiyyaaaaaaaaaa”. Mean while, our hero, the super secular brother Rahul, is sipping green tea about 37 miles away, when his windows shatter, and he hears his younger brother's wail. He knows what he has to do. With a grim determination, he straps on a duffle bag with a BBS, and kick-starts his Ducati Monster. As he revs the hell out of the bike, he screams out a loud “Main as raha hoon chote”. The crows start cawing, and windows and glass objects, shatter, again. In a flash, he is off. It is a race against time. He rode as never before. He drives through orange orchards, draining the fruits of their juice, and nukkad-jalebi shops, draining the sweet of its syrup. Sanyasis sitting under trees are struck by a sudden de-saffronization of their apparel, reminding one of the many Tide ads. Like a juggernaut, our Ducati-driving-Dude reaches the hospital, and rushes to the ward where his sick cousin (pun intended) lies. He takes of the BBS, and places it on the heaving chest of Varun. And then, they all hold their breath. Varun screams, and then becomes lifeless, the monitor shows no pulse, the sickening sound of death in the air. But, this is India, the land of Hindi Cinema. As Rahul starts staring at the ceiling, and was about to deliver a heavy dialogue for God's benefit, Varun springs back to life. The BBS had done its magic. In a calm and secular voice, with a beatific smile on his face, he says, “Bhaiyya, aap aa gaye”. “Haan chote, tu bulaye aur main na aaon”, says Rahul. And then, Varun avows to sever all ties with anything Saffron and its close shades. They hug tightly, as the clouds make way for the shining sun.

A BBS, to save your dying brother – Expensive (as your brother was very very communal)
A Ducati Monster, made in Italy, to get you to your dying brother – Very Expensive
Bringing back your long lost brother into the secular fold – Priceless

That is the power, of a Black Box of Secularism.

The End

p.s. Do I have to say that this is a satire ? This is my way of protesting against the twisted,perverted version of Secularism that the Political Parties practice . Some make no pretense about not being secular , some claim to be secular and are not and some follow their own brand of it . WTF !

Great Indian Leader

This a short story, inspired by Wag the Dog and the brouhaha over Obama's victory , followed by the quest for and debates over an Indian Obama. This is a figment of my twisted imagination , the seed was sown years ago, but it bore fruit now .

About the movie – It is based on 'American Hero', a 1993 satirical conspiracy theory novel written by Larry Beinhart . It speculated that Operation DESERT STORM had been scripted and choreographed as a ploy to get George H.W. Bush reelected to a second term (taking their cues from Margaret Thatcher's similar invasion of the Falkland Islands), while at the same time analyzing exactly why that conflict had been so popular. Starring Robert De Niro and Dustin Hoffman, the movie is about a Washington spin doctor who distracts the electorate from a U.S. presidential sex scandal by hiring a Hollywood producer, played by Dustin Hoffman, to construct a fake war with Albania. The scheme enlists the musician Willie Nelson (who creates a theme song for the 'war').
( Source – Wikipedia)

Wag the dog - To cause a desired result by means other than the obvious or rational method. Imagine you want a dog to wag it's tail. You should make the dog happy, and the tail will wag. If you can't or won't make the dog happy, you can get the tail to wag by "wagging the dog".

“When the college saw that black students were failing Calculus at a disproportionately high rate to their enrollment, they decided to wag the dog by making the tests less difficult.”

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Great Indian Leader

With the aid of a media , how a man of moderate charisma and mediocre talents, as selfish and self-absorbed as the average person, was turned into a magnanimous and magnificent human , a Great Indian Leader . It started of as a bold and imaginative experiment , how a chosen candidate , who had all the right credentials and appearances , was decided upon by the Council to be projected as the next Great Indian Leader . They had nothing to lose if this venture failed , for they would go back to their old barbaric ways, fighting like dogs for votes. This Council comprised not only politicians of the same party , but rather included all the major ones , those who could sway the masses and effectively divide and rule. This may sound strange, but up there, it did not matter who ruled or who did not , they all wielded power and were beyond the rules of a democratic system. They had enough of infighting and fighting amongst each other . It was unanimously decided that the autocracy, anarchy, monarchy and dynasticism that had crept into their system must go . A common goal was agreed upon, a unified vision projected; to introduce an internal democracy. A new constitution which treated each politician equally , which bestowed upon them the right , to share the fruits of the exploit of the masses in proportion of political experience, seniority and the size of the vote bank they controlled . A democracy which would ensure the safety,longevity and security of their lives and political careers, and of their children as well, so that they could go on sucking the blood and life of the populace. The time had come for them to coalesce as a single political unit, driven by their mutual lust for power, they had to evolve for their survival. And the first stage of this process, was this elaborate scheme, a political and sociological experiment . Thus began 'Operation Bharat' . The irony of the name does not do unnoticed.

After an intensive and exhaustive research , after rejecting saffron , green and white candidates , they decided upon one who had none of these, no colour of his own, no personal ideology . They decided to camouflage him so , that to one it would appear saffron , to another green . And some also might see in him , a shade of red . His character was given a design , a diabolical and a genius one . His words and actions were so brilliantly crafted . They had a team of self-styled analysts and 'omniscient' experts to defend his every aspect , who, though professed and preached very differently , yet were on the payroll of the council . They argued and counter argued over whether he was secular or communal , liberal or authoritarian , but in the end they all concurred on his national character , as an agreed upon concession . They created a beautiful multi-hued haze through deception,obfuscation and inveigling, which kept the masses fooled and misled ; while the truth lay hidden comfortably behind the smoke screen . The objective was not at all simple , it was intricate and involved many variables ; to keep the public fooled enough so that they never see him for what he really was , a good-looking and fluent-speaking non-entity , with no flair or flamboyance , no charisma , in fact , nothing extraordinary, and a willing puppet . Through clever campaigning and media management , they made that dog wag* , rather than the tail . His meticulously planned moves ensured that he was in the right place and among right people, at the right time . His popularity was surging , he was headed the right way . He appeared as a messiah for all of them. Suddenly , after a very long time, the people of this land were united , and backed one man , their new Great Indian Leader . It was not as if a few did not see through this mother of all lies, this gigantic farce , but then what can a David do to a hundred Goliaths . The few that rose against them were crushed , their names and reputations destroyed , and they did not hesitate from resorting to brute force, if and when their other methods failed. By hook and by crook , they eliminated their enemies and the rebels. Gradually, they built this seemingly benign Frankenstein, with larger-than-life pieces.

Their Experiment had passed all the tests , now was the time for the acid one , and the strategy employed was unique . Although the GIL was the brainchild of the Council, they decided to launch a political offensive against him , as they would have done against a genuine political opponent .The parties of the council other than the one which fielded this candidate, declared war against him. There was a rhyme and reason behind it. For their efforts to bear fruition, even this impostor had to survive the harshest , had to temper himself in the hell-fire that is the Indian Election , learn how to dance, and make others as well, to the tune of this vibrating democracy. They had never hoped that this would go on forever , but they wanted it to last long enough , to enjoy undisputed , unchallenged power till they possibly could. They were pragmatic realists , and knew greater truths and wisdom than the lies they usually preached and the venom they occasionally spewed . This was the ultimate challenge ,the final hurdle the GIL had to jump , the crux of the entire masquerade . Political Alliances can barely make 5 years , charismatic leaders have made 10 ; if they managed to guarantee even a 15 or 20 year rule , they would be on cloud nine with a rainbow around their shoulders , for a while.

And as it has always happened for this nation , it went the other way . He won . It was a juggernaut. Calling it a landslide would not suffice at all. A single party government , with an overwhelming majority of 400 plus . He was in , and had immortalized himself in the annals of History. The greatest heist of all times had been pulled off, with such suaveness and sophistication, that it would not be even known as one, for a very long time. And considering an average depreciation of a loss of 10% of the seats every year , he had a theoretical shelf life of 25 years . Power breeds power, and the council was confident of stretching this when the time came. After all , they knew all the tricks of this trade. Short of a direct divine intervention, life would be a bed of roses for them, with the occasional thorn .


Politicians - 1 . One fifth of the Humanity - 0 . May be this what the Kali yuga is all about .

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Please feel free to criticize my attempt . And to get back in a lighter mood , read this absolutely KICKASS comical post , News at Nine , by mere azeez dost , Child_of_Adam .It is an awesome read .