It’s
better to have a cold war than a fully fledged hot war scattering trees, bones
and earth by the raucous blizzards of bombardment. So China and America are
full time busy in the cantankerous but innocuous cockfight. America is probing
many a Chinese company to delist them from its stock markets. China’s foreign
ministry releases aggressive statements on a daily basis in return. It releases
the pent up, extra energies and assuages the ego a bit because each side can
salvage brawny verbal points. Mind can invent as many victory points as
possible. So what is the harm in formulating more and more!
As
both the US and the Chinese try their level best to forge their truths, as all of
us do, the fate of international geo-strategy hangs suspended pretty weirdly. At
the grossest level of existence, 'Truth' is a little candy held tightly in the
fist of the hand that is 'Powerful'! Let’s see who turns out to be more
powerful to get the copyright over truth.
To
keep India busy in the sweet sour cute cold war, China has been throwing chili
now and then in the boiling pan of Sino-India relations by patrolling more
aggressively along the rugged LAC in the Himalayas. Stones are thrown, abuses
hurled in strange languages, and pushing and jostling takes place in Ladhak.
Nepal and Pakistan are ever so happy to appease the Red Master. China proclaims
Mt. Everest as its own. The democratically elected communist coalition—hatched by
the holy land of communism itself—of Nepal doesn’t mind this diplomatic misdemeanor;
rather they take it as an appeasing rap on the knuckles by the supreme aka. In
a lopsided relationship, with one side almost a cringing servant and the other
a bully master owner, a mild strike on the bum by the latter appears like an
encouraging pat, like egging the ox to pull the cart harder. Nepal knows that
China is a very hard taskmaster. So they pull the cart still harder and raise
objection against the Indian road to Lipulekh pass. It’s our territory they
say. To further rub salts on Indian wounds, the cringing communist head of
Nepal claims that the Corona mutant from the Indian territory is more lethal
and it has created immense damages in their territory. I hope he won’t demand
war damages from us! The Red Master must be very much happy and would throw
more Yuans in their famished pockets. A prominent Bollywood heroine of Nepalese
origin gets carried by the patriotic fervor—a nice opportunity to sow the seeds
of political career anywhere in the world—and supports her motherland. Many an
Indian baulk with irritation accusing her to insult the land that has given her
name, fame and life’s fun game.
Taiwan’s
nationalist leader Tsai takes oath for the second term as the island nation’s President.
The Red Bull is chagrined beyond limits across the 200 Km strait on the
continental mainland. More Chinese aircrafts are loitering like rampaging
locusts, ready to chuck out the ripe harvest, Taiwan being such a beautifully
managed developed nation. She but is a gutsy lady. It’s very scary to even
think about the little island’s precarious position as the mighty mainland
nation acts like a land mafia, always eying the territories of its neighbors. They
are even itching with communist chili to grab Hong Kong well before 2047 as per
their agreement with the Britishers.
Long
before the cobra raised its hood, Dostoevsky had predicted well about the great
eyewash that would set the stage for the grossest misuse of power in an
institutionalized manner. Looking at the seeds of communism, one of his
characters in the book Devils forecasts:
"...a
final solution of the question of the division of mankind into two unequal
parts. One tenth enjoys absolute liberty and unbounded power over the other
nine-tenths. The others have to give up all individuality and become, so to
speak, a herd, and, through boundless submission, will by a series of
regenerations attain Primeval Innocence, something like the Garden of Eden.
They will have to work, however. The measures proposed for depriving
nine-tenths of mankind of their freedom and transforming them into a herd
through the education of whole generations are very remarkable, founded on the
facts of nature and highly logical."
Well,
flawless forecast by the maestro! The experiment has been hatched in China
exactly like he predicted 150 years ago. The one-tenth communist cadre and
their cronies push the docile and disempowered nine-tenths like a herd of
sheep. Nine-tenths of Chinese are the gentlest and most docile citizens of
mother Earth. One-tenth are literally devil incarnation. God save us. And God
save my Chinese brethren! There the best and the worst are living side by side.
O
Almighty, let there be subtle strains of democratic vaccine against a diseased
ideology! Cure is on the way! Hong Kong erupts again after the Corona-enforced
curfew. I see a happy, healthy and restful China sometimes in future. My Guru
Dalai Lama may bless His birthplace once again, and I may get blessed by
bathing in Lake Mansarovar. Well, both postponed till democracy cures the
dragon!
We
have our very own nursery of communism right there in the heart of Delhi. JNU-type
intentional untidiness—which they foolishly take as a mark of intellect and wit—gives,
at the most, bespectacled morose look, guttery stench in armpits, rotten swab
of wool in the navel (and somewhere unmentionable also), lice in hazardous hair
and the communist bug in the soul. All that is required is disinfectant jet
sprays for the body and Ramayana, Mahabharata and Gita lessons for the soul!
The Pro-Hindutva Vice Chancellor appears to lie in wait for the same like a
leery, happy fox.
The
US, nursing its wounds and looking for ways and means to maintain its superpower
status that has been shaken a bit by idiotic Corona, is pumping up zeal into
its lethal most aircraft and humongous gladiatorial aircraft carriers in South
China Sea. Back home, the land of supreme individual freedom, is helping people
to step out and breathe easily in free air. Any kind of restrictions on its
citizens appears so unlike America. Americans love their individual freedom.
Even their government can’t keep them tamed for too long. There is a drive-in
theatre in a US stadium. The giant screen plays a movie. People drive onto the
sports turf in their cars and watch the movie from inside cars, face masks and
all, and nobody allowed to step onto the turf. It appears a new game. This life
itself is an ever-unfolding game. So always be prepared for new twists and take
it as a game only.
A
typhoon in the Bay of Bengal seeks attention by its furious winds and storms.
It ravages West Bengal and Orisa to push Corona from people’s psyche in that region.
The honorable PM comes out to take an aerial survey of the devastation in the
east. He has stepped out of Delhi after 87 days. He looks eager, enthusiastic
but drained out after almost sleepless fight against the deadly virus. An air crash
in Pakistan, killing more than 100 people, even breaks the ice between India
and Pakistan and the Indian PM offers his condolences over the Paki loss. PM
Modi has broken the ice. You can very well imagine the level of frigidity in
the relationship between the quarrelling boys of South Asia by the fact that
even a condolence message counts as breaking the ice.
Till
there is a branded separate cure for Corona, the medical fraternity is juggling
with alternatives. Some take Remdesivir as the wonder drug, others shout for
HCQ, including President Trump who takes the latter to keep his armor braced
for the Corona salvo that might be fired at him.
Afghanistan
appears to shake off the dust of hardcore, unrelenting religious zealotry as it
acts with common sense and turns practical to save life by cancelling state
celebrations on the occasion of Eid. In any case, the holy message of Eid be
better carried out in practice and celebrated in heart than in fulfilling mere
rituals while carrying hate and malice in heart. Pakistan, as can be expected
from the champion land of Islam, allows mass gatherings for namaaz to appease
military and mullahs. Of, Eid Mubarak to all Indians! I hope I am not breaking some patriotic vow in greeting!
People
and governments seem to have come to terms with the Corona reality. The rising
statistics hardly create scary ripples down the spine. Even misery has a saturation
point. Too much of it stops giving pain and suffering as its sharp fangs lose
their pinch. Even misery should know the rule of moderation; otherwise it melts
in the ubiquitous sands of the rutted path.
People
have surged out like a dam bursts suddenly. The cases in India are rising at
the rate of nearly 7000 every day. It would have given heart attacks to government,
administrators and people two months ago even to think of such a figure in a
day. So even though India stands as the 11th worst affected country
in the world, people and government don’t find it too scary. Most importantly,
business, life, office, desires, needs and cravings are more forceful than the
fear of Corona. So people, having drilled their minds about basic precautions,
are jumping over the fence during this transformative stage of Lockdown 4.0,
before fully melting into the freedom of normal time again. Good thing is that
the recovery rate is going up in India at around 40%, with people sneezing,
getting feverish, breathing with difficulty and coming out healthy again. Strange
are the ways of human anatomy, a thing that is fatal to someone causes just
mild dis-ease in the other.
One
more thing, the cases are hugely underreported in India and so must be the number
deaths, given the shape and size of our demography and the puzzling socio-economic
and cultural knots in between. It’s not possible to exactly document the Corona
ravages across the teeming millions in the cauldron of poverty. Poorest migrant
workers have scattered across the country, leaving hardly any trace of their pain,
losses and miseries. Who will trace their footsteps to exactly chronicle the
losses they have suffered, ranging from the loss of livelihood, hunger, fatigue
and death? So this portion of Corona damages stays outside the pale of Corona
management.
The
issue of migrant workers’ miseries has finally roused the dormant political
turtles, who were sulking for the last two months, their neck withdrawn into
the hard shell and the sulking face lost under the cover. So the political opposition
has finally something to croak about and the very same ear-busting debates have
started on the news channels. Little does anyone realize that there are scores
of poorest migrant workers—who waged the most lethal battle of their lives in
reaching their home states, jumping over the lockdown fences, falling, getting
wounded, walking hungry, sick and ill, injured and many perishing on the way—are
quarantined in tarpaulin sheet tents without any basic facilities and left to
fend off both Corona and hunger on their own. The fire is too far from the
political citadel. It doesn’t burn the august occupants of the castle. It warms
their spirit and lights their stage to go into politicking again to create
fabulous careers out of the rutting miseries on the ground.
All
of us have to fight for our own stories and be our best version. This little
girl takes firm steps, pedaling her way to stamp her signature on the fleeting
currents of existence. 15 Year old Jyoti Kumari etched her new identity on the
slate of miseries. Lockdown saw her stuck up in Gurugram with her injured
father. Their home was 1200 Km away. She pedals to glory in 7 days, carrying
her sick father on the carrier behind. The Cycling Federation of India Chairman
has said that if the gutsy girl, an eighth standard student, passes the trial,
she would be taken as a trainee at the state-of-the-art National Cycling
Academy. Adversities flow between the banks of opportunities. We just have to
force our way to the bank or perish downstream like a dead tree bough.
And
what do I do as a common Indian while all this is happening? I smile and take
lessons from a beautifully blossomed red hibiscus smiling with little red bulbs
of life against the background of cracks in the wall. Although there are cracks
in life, she but smiles softly and whispers an assurance: "Don't worry,
all is well!"
The
tiny rose bud would have surely perished, if not for our tiny moisture of love
that saw it being placed in the shade of a tree. The sun is firing on all
cylinders at last to take the belated summer to its peak. The temperatures are
over 40 degree Celsius. The bud blossoms to be a beautiful rosy lass and
sprinkles her smile in the hot eddies of the pining sandy swirls. A smile is
just one breath away, provided we give it a chance. Even in the fiery pits of
burning summer, a blossom awaits our cool, caring shade to smile for life and
living! I enjoy the smile of the sun-shaded rose! And when the afternoon
sunrays come to kiss the shy, shaded beauty for a brief flirtatious moment, she
opens her heart and gives a full smile. Guys don't miss to smile even at those
who mean to rob you of your smile. Our own frown eats our smile, not other's
intentions! After some time, the youthful full blossomed rose starts graying and
a little bud opens just under it, shaded still further by the mother rose under
the shade of a tree. Proud, protective Mama and her smiling angelica! Kindness
leaves a sweet trail! Invest a few emotions of kindness and wait for the
results!
Let
China and America continue in their fight to save humanity from their own
perspectives, I do my common man’s duty to sweeten my immediate mundane
surroundings. A bucket of water lies under the tree shade. Hundreds of honeybees
throng with a buzz to suck water and regurgitate it in their hive to save their
larvae from a painful boiling death in this heat. To undo bitterness, we don't
have to turn bitter and fight it. All it needs is to give sweetness more
chances. Each and Every Honeybee saved means a sweeter world.
Dostoevsky
states in Devils: "Forgive me for sins voluntary and involuntary. By
sinning, every man has sinned against all other men, and everyone is at least
in part to blame for the sin of others. There is no such thing as an individual
sin. However, I am a great sinner, and my sins may exceed your own!" I
take the onus for my individual sins as the contributors to others’ sins and do
penance by looking at the selfless service of these little insects. Many of
them perish to keep the hive buzzing. As parents, humans also do the same by
the way! Let’s hope, we enlarge this family feeling to include more humans
outside our families and then all of nature around!
A
buffalo brays loudly. It must be thirsty. We farmers are very much obliged to
them. They have been our lifeline. Moreover, a buffalo can take one to heaven
also. Yamraj, the God of death, roams on a buffalo, and so does an enlightened
sage like Paramguru Lao Tzu. Both take us to heaven in different ways. Yamraj does
the deed like a tough peasant, Paramguru accomplishes the deed like a caring
mother. I recall countless buffalo rides in childhood. Some were Mom type
sympathetic and carried with affection and care. Some were nuisant and jumped,
hopped and scattered their behind like the evil belle dancer to topple the rider
like a coconut falls from the tree. Well, with buffalo being almost a living
Goddess to my people, you can very well imagine our culture. Our culture is
agriculture basically. And we have such pointed rough edges to our persona that
nature appears to keep us to puncture bloated egos with our farming fangs.
Paramguru
Lao Tzu on His buffalo! It makes him a father figure to me, not simply by his philosophy
that I admire so much, but by his buffalo-riding look that instantly creates a
niche in my heart. To we farmers, a buffalo has defined our lives the way gold
has defined the lives of the trading community. A buffalo is almost a family
member to unleash brotherly affection when in good mood and lynch with a switch
when in bad temper. Well, but it is never one way show. Buffaloes too have had
their mood swings and the resultant bruised bums, broken bones and toppled
carts. Hail buffalo for He carries my Guru!
As
we are busy in the little kindergarten of life, a team of scientists has
observed that "a fountain of high-energy particles erupting from the
ice" in the biting cold of Antarctica may in fact be a solid evidence of a
'parallel universe'. The standard model of physics might be swashed away. It
resembles to a unique phenomenon known as "upside-down cosmic-ray
shower". On the surface it looked just a cosmic ray, like one sees in a
reflection off the ice sheet. However, it wasn't reflected. Keep your hold on
your logic; it seemed as if the cosmic ray was coming out of the ice sheet itself.
Another Googlie from Mother Nature!
Dear
physicists, stretch your imagination as much as possible. It's a never ending
spool of energy. It won't finish. You will always have the cord in hand and
still more to come. Keep pulling for fabricating more convenience of life that
you proudly name as ‘science’. Beyond that, kindly abandon the illusion of
hitting the last mystery! Keep pulling! Forever!
As
all of us set out again to claim our portion of freedom after the Corona
hiatus, a philosophical fart tarts my senses. Long before we release our kite
to fly for freedom, we tie it with the bondage of string. Before we set out to
liberate ourselves, we enslave ourselves to dogmas, faith and beliefs. Is there
any difference between what we take to be freedom from what we know as bondage?
Don't worry guys; I have mild symptoms of Dostoevskian mental diarrhea! Relax!
Don't catch it yourself! Haaa haaa!
You
can very well estimate my situation by reading the following excerpt in Notes
from Underground by Dostoevsky: "Oh, gentlemen, do you know, perhaps I
consider myself an intelligent man, only because all my life I have been able
neither to begin nor to finish anything. Granted I am a babbler, a harmless
vexatious babbler, like all of us. But what is to be done if the direct and
sole vocation of every intelligent man is babble, that is, the intentional
pouring of water through a sieve?" Hope you got the clue for my mental diarrhea.
And
finally, here is my recipe of a perfect human being: strong body, sharp mind
and soft heart. I mean Shiva! Be a Shiva!
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