Rabbit can beat Cobra!

Rabbit can beat Cobra!
Yes, it is possible! Provided the rabbit gives only that much against
Cobra as it would in a deadly fight against a fellow rabbit for the
girl rabbit. The crux of the matter is: All routined results and
consequences are born of the meek acceptance of certain facts, i.e., a
rabbit has to die or run away while faced with a snake. Even the snake
attacks a rabbit under the instinctive presupposition that the rabbit
has to get scared and get defeated. The rabbit on its part is most of
the times driven to the extent of heart failure at the sight of a
snake.
 
I saw a documentary in which these roles were turned topsy-turvey by
the characters. A snake attacked a rabbit in a field. At the first
strike the rabbit jumped back. Conventionally the snake should have
been running after the scared creature, but the latter struck back. It
was sufficient to break the snake's surety about the weaker status of
rabbit. It went on backfoot. After this it was a sheer comedy. The big
snake was running for life, while the brave rabbit was jumping at its
tail all the way. Moral of the story is: If despite being bothered
about what lies in our face, we just give as much as in the face of
some equal opponent, we can turn the tables on mightily weightier
people, animals, situations and problems. The condition is just this:
We have to give our best shot irrespective of the status of what
confronts us.
 
Following the same principle a brave girl was seen heartfully slapping
a fierce looking rascal. Believe me I have never seen such plain, hard
slapping in real life! The rascal just did some mischief under the
presumption that this rosy creature will not be in a fighting position
against his rowdy appearance and he will go scot free even after
infringing on her modesty. Unfortunately, this is what normally
happens in real life. So the idiot was driven into misadventure by
this blind presupposition. But man what repercussions! The brave lady
just gave her best as she would have given against a fellow girl in a
catfight. Amazing! He just stood spellbound under the shower of her
slaps. It was just like watching a stony man being slapped
effortlessly. Man, he was not even raising his hands to save his
imperiled cheeks. Almost hypnotized! It was a great fun though!

We are the owner of whatever is left in the pocket

He is in his early eighties now. Robust old man! Definitely a sort of

achiever at the property front! More so against the fact that when he

and his family escaped from the blooded Pakistani soil at the

partition time, after losing loved ones and all property, they were

even poorer than beggars. He started earning for the family at the

tender age of 8 only. Then graduated onto become a truck driver and

ultimately a transporter. His struggles took him to all corners of the

country in all types of circumstances. I asked him about the guiding

philosophies in his life. There was a light in his old, dim eyes:

'This fellow trucker of ours was really poor. All his worth was

invested in this old truck. We were going in a convey in north east.

His vehicle was carrying jaggery. The thing got toppled into a hole.

It was damaged and jaggery all over the place. Fortunately he and his

helper boy came out with bruised on skin. But I knew he was carrying

bigger scars in his heart because that truck was all he had in the

name of property. We were just afraid how he will react to it. In fact

we were almost speechless so far as paying lip service is concerned.

He just sat at a stone and cast a sad look at the damaged truck. In a

very normal tone he called his helper, "Oye yaar jo hona tha ho gaya.

Ab rone ka kya fayada. Bhookh lagi hai puttar. Bring me some lumps of

jaggery and water. Bad ki bad me sochenge. Pahle bhojan to kar le."

Saying this he invited all of us into the feast as well.'

This is what is all about life buddy. It is no use crying over spilt

milk. We have to ensure the show continues. Whatever is left after a

storm is truly what belongs to us. We have to proceed with the journey

with the depleted resources. Well, a journey is after all a journey

fella! It is not justified that we expect all the pomp, show and

regalia to accompany us till the end. As Pan Singh Tomar said: 'One

has to complete the race! Winning and losing does not mater. All we

can do is just try to reach the finish line!'

Idea conceived now deliver healthy baby

Almost 90 per cent of the ideas entering the brains of normally sane

people are practical to a highly decent degree. But still millions of

practical ideas die in brains, being kicked in the womb by the forces

of indifference, negligence, lack of confidence, etc. Believe me a

sane idea in a normal brain is just like a ball kept at the table top

of a mountain. It just needs a beginning push, just enough to allow it

to cross the level and reach the margin. After that it is bound to

roll downhill under the gravitational forces born of your starting

effort, other constituents in your scheme, various correlated fates

and efforts, etc., etc. The ball of your system will just roll down

buddy. So prove only this much that you have decently workable legs

having at least that much strength as required to move a stationary

football. Kick the standstill ball on a small plain in your brain.

Just give it a deft touch and you will roll with your system.

Idea conceived now deliver healthy baby

Almost 90 per cent of the ideas entering the brains of normally sane

people are practical to a highly decent degree. But still millions of

practical ideas die in brains, being kicked in the womb by the forces

of indifference, negligence, lack of confidence, etc. Believe me a

sane idea in a normal brain is just like a ball kept at the table top

of a mountain. It just needs a beginning push, just enough to allow it

to cross the level and reach the margin. After that it is bound to

roll downhill under the gravitational forces born of your starting

effort, other constituents in your scheme, various correlated fates

and efforts, etc., etc. The ball of your system will just roll down

buddy. So prove only this much that you have decently workable legs

having at least that much strength as required to move a stationary

football. Kick the standstill ball on a small plain in your brain.

Just give it a deft touch and you will roll with your system.

Political Cauldron

Political Cauldron

Indian political scene is in disarray. It was bound to happen. Even after 66 annual democratic rituals, frankly speaking the meaning of freedom is as elusive like it was during the British period. Power is power, it corrupt almost by instinct. Its law is impersonal. Under it sway the colonial exploiter is as unsparing as the brown post-independence man. If with a pinch of salt, you can afford to rejoice at the idea that at least our own people are reaping the fruits at the cost of collective good, then it is appropriate to take part in 15^th August festivities. But the real freedom and real democracy lie beyond such blind hallucination. We have to come out of the ever-forgiving festivities going on for almost even decades and settle down to real business.

So where do we stand post Lalu-type political plunder? Issues like political corruption were never accepted by the society at large as the ones capable of turning the political tides against the wrong-doers. So it is a folly to expect the political class to go into elf-remedial mode and cleanse the system by itself. It is simple: we the common voters never questioned them so they thought if the ones who carry our destiny on their thumb impression are comfortable with it then where is the need for changing the ways and mean of political business.

So buddies we reached the UPA era. If coalition compulsions required the government to reach the pinnacle of compromises at all levels, against the background of teeming millions living like animals in their struggle and nonchalant educated middle class lost in the dream of reaching still higher rungs of an apolitical ladder, then what is wrong with that. But then river of corruption broke all check dams. It was only when the ever-rising costs of living stabbed deep into the so-called self-uprighteous, educated middle class that corruption became a major issue. It is simple mathematics. Laks of crores of rupees stashed in foreign account is not created in void. It is born of the pathetic conditions of the farmers who still continue to work harder, put more inputs in fields and left with lesser and lesser money at the end of the season. Millions of daily wage earners add to the weight in dubious accounts through their ever-piling miseries through more work and less and less savings. Millions of salaried middle class also contributes to it through mindless spending on costlier and costlier consumer items and taxes. Simple: We work, suffer, struggle unquestioningly and they gather the loot through direct and indirect means.

Thankfully the balloon of corruption burst finally. Everything has it limits man. Its blast shook the collective consciousness at many levels. Anna movement and Ramdev movement are nothing but collective sighs of dissent against the mindless plunder and compromises by the UPA government. If nothing more at least corruption is a political issue now. Anna and party have decided to enter politics now. How will they manage to fight elections in an arena where the victory so far has been defined by money, violence and all the rest gory deeds, is a big question. At least they represent those Indians who are educated, earn their bread and butter through hard work in corporate corridors. Their chances of success depend upon the rate of participation and growth in this section. If managed properly it can become a good counter force in Indian politics. As far as Ramdev is concerned, he appears driven more by a stubborn self-lorn charisma that always keeps him on tenterhooks even though he amasses thousands of crores through his corporate Yoga. The target of his fury is too narrow to leave a holistic effect on the overall fabric. He can hog limelight through fiery statements like petty politicians, but we all still remember the weeping woman-cloth-clad baba.

BJP is still not as strong as it should be against the background of anti-UPA breeze. It appears undecided about what kind of top-tier leadership to keep, unlike Congress which is at least true to its archaic aristocracy specific to a family. The latter is accepted and spelt out clearly thus leaving little space for infighting, leaving it with all the time, energy and resources to fight against all the slingshots aimed at it. Its simple: One dissenter or enemy inside house is far far more dangerous than hundred of outside foes baying for blood. BJP can learn a few lessons from the grand old party in this regard.

 
So what are our political prospects in the near future? It is very hard to tell. Just wait and watch. Its really dicey! 

The Common Story of a Common Man

Jaipal is around 45 but looks an old man of 60. Hair beaten by all types of winds; teeth gone in munching the stones that life has to offer; facial features roughed off like furious desert storms hitting against a lifeless rock face for years. Life has very little to offer to this daily wage earner from my neighbouring village. Still he gives best to the society around. Makes this darkening world a little brighter with his self-motivated commitment for the labour tasks at hand.

His friends call him 'Tihadi', i.e., the one who has been to the notorious jail in Delhi. But as you watch this bony figure heaving massive pulls at the conscience-lorn rope, you can find no justification for the title. Well, the famed Indian justice system mostly catches the smallest fish and allows the whales a safe passage. He was caught ticketless in a local passenger train to Delhi. Fine was to the tune of 500 rupees. 'But my whole being is not even worth that much!' he pleased. So he landed up in Tihar jail to earn the nickname. Babus made him do a hard labour to earn his roti and dal. There was no encashment for his fruitless work, of course. Unconcerned, he stretches out every sinew of his frail body to make my world better at the construction site.

For the marriage of his eldest daughter he had pooled almost his life-long earnings, and put them in his hovel. There was a fire and his 60,000 rupees turned to ashes. But then sometimes people get senty, so many came forward with a hand of charity. Money and gifts were collected by the villagers. This single good-countering-bad stroke of destiny has, may be, kept the thread of honesty tied to his being.

He has not even the bicycle. I ask him the reason. 'There is no space to put it at my place,' he says. I look for signs of a joke on his decimated face. But he is damn serious. His fellow labourers bear witness to this fact. His only possession is a tiny 10×15 depilated room. So where is the room for poor man's merc, i.e., bicycle? I think it does not need more emphasis to decide that he is amongst the poorest of the poor in the country. There is this scheme of BPL card in rural India. The card-holder enjoys many benefits like subsidized wheat, rice and kerosene from the public distribution system. If one can arrange some patronage and blessings from the mighty village strongmen and pradhan, one can get 25,000 rupees for house construction as well. But for such big benefits you must in a position to pay back many times more in many forms. He does not fit anywhere in this give–take equation. So despite many rounds for a BPL card he is found the least eligible for it.

The world may not care about him. The economic breeze blowing coolly in India may not kiss to vapourize the sweat beads on his hardened, bowing back. Swanky cars may glut the roads while he does not even get his bicycle. Scamesters may swindle public money to the tune of laks of crores and go scot free, while he spends 10 hardworking and insulting nights in Tihar jail. He may stay in a tiny hovel while he helps construct swanky apartments for others. He, but, has got his reward. The reward of goodness. Despite countless promptings to the contrary, his basics have not changed. He is true to himself. And this truth to the self is the fuel that is pulling the cart of this big, bad and still worsening world. It will collapse when the last of his type will say bye to this world.

Nehru Vs. Advani

Nearly all political parties in India bear the same foul-smelling
tricks and strategies in their secret books. However, in one
democratic aspect the BJP scores over the Congress. We can call it
intra-party democracy. Let us start with their respective fortune
turners in independent India—JL Nehru and LK Advani.

Nehru was a great statesman. Inevitably the legacy left behind by such
impressive personalities cannot be expected to say a quiet bye to this
world as soon as the holy flames kiss the body. It lingers over for a
long period of time. In third world countries where masses stay almost
in animal state due to poverty and illiteracy such memories are
carried over generations. Simply, because the masses have accepted to
be the good followers of the God-ordained authority at the higher
levels! There is paucity of charismatic and dynamic new leaders who
can help the masses forget the past and move on with the times. So
nothing wrong if the legacy escaping from the pyre of Nehru decides to
stay back to serve his progenies!

Consolidation of the Nehruvian grasp over the very meaning of Congress
(and the consequent credit for winning the freedom for the country)
was a natural corollary to the fact that much-obliged and jubilant
masses as well as second-tier leaders within the Congress clapped
inapprehensively while the lighthouse of Nehruvian legacy was slowly
built up in the excitingly languid waters of free India during the
initial decades. It overshadowed many a capable Congress leaders.

If we analyze Advani's efforts in taking a party having just two seats
in the Parliament to the apostle of power within two decades, we can
say that it somehow matched or even surpassed Nehruvian endeavor to
turn Congress literally a family institution. But within BJP the
patriarch has been struggling to maintain his position amongst a
fantastic crop of career-oriented politicians. The man who almost
single-handedly took it to power has not been allowed to set it up as
a sort of family institution. On this account BJP counts as a far more
democratic set up given the freedom of choice of leadership among its
ranks.

On the other hand, when highly capable and very senior Congressmen
line up to pay homage and kiss the Yuvraj's (the heir apparent) hands
it unfortunately smacks of typical Indian medieval mentality of
treating rulers as the symbols of divinity. If Congress is a
democratic party and believes in its rituals then it is high time that
we see its great leaders taking the center-stage irrespective of the
family they are born in. If Indians still accept Rahul Gandhi (the boy
whose caliber and skills can be matched by thousands of Congress
workers across India) as their natural leader, it just tells that we
are very God-abiding people and just would go behind anybody he
decides to send to the first political families in the country.

Sachin's Parliamentary Innings

One thing is clear. It is almost impossible to be a successful Indian

and still not be a politician at some level. Ironically the league of

achievers, apart from the clean shirts, includes shadowy characters

like big-time criminals, swindlers, tricky scamesters and all those

spooky characters who cock snook at law and still be in influential

positions. Now, coming back to the clean-shirted successful Indians.

Sachin Tendulkar is in the front league of those whose cuts and pulls

can help the masses forget their individual miseries. He gives me/us

far too occasions to celebrate and be happy than I/we can manage with

my/our limited capabilities. There might be a really bad day with

me/us but then the news of Sachin hitting century finds me/us taken in

by the pleasant and welcoming pools of the sea of Indian humanity lost

in the whirlpools of his classy hits. He is the pain-killer and

joy-giver. God bless him! Long live Sachin!

Looking at his apolitical strides on the path of inspiring and

influencing millions of destinies, it appeared there are politics-free

domains in this country where you can strive for perfection. But then

how long an Indian after reaching the highest echelons and still not

kiss the political maiden with its tempting pout. It is just a matter

of time. The inevitable countdown! So our Sachin finally surrenders to

the temptation. Nothing wrong with that! But eating the political pie

while still with gloves on is a bit disappointing. It would have been

better with his willow in his restroom. Maybe he would have been in a

better position to understand a bit of Parliamentary thuggery and

hypothetical talk over public issues in Rajya Sabha. Sachin, but, is

Sachin—ever-lorn for new figures and targets. We agree that he does it

for Indians. Just wonder he will use the same single-minded

determination in adding some voice of sanity to some debate over some

bill. At least he can think of it when there is no Indian cricketing

itinerary and the Parliament session begins.

Indians love him as the son of India. However, in a country where

political opinions have the razor-sharp pernicity to cut down

relationships for ever, it will be interesting to see whether he will

lose some of his diehard fans because now he represents a particular

party as well. By the natural law of it, all those who oppose this

particular party may find Sachin less affable now. It is one of the

toughest challenges in India to maintain a good relationship with a

supporter of different political stream. Wonder there won't be a

section of Indians who will jump with joy when the great man adds to

the number of 0s in his kitty.

We can even surmise that the great man was just fed up with his status

of the King of cricketing Gods feasting upon the mass accolades of

hallucinated masses fed on rich cricket-opium diet. So just to realize

his human avatar he like any of us wants to have some bad neighbors so

that by hitting massive fours and sixes he can rub salt on their

wounds and thus enjoy the sweet-sour taste of it. Excuse him please!

It is just to be human.

The dragon may burn itself out!

There is every possibility that China may go old Soviet way. Its impressive strides at the economic, scientific and military levels are being relentlessly fuelled by a collective national hoopla about mythical-level enemies in the outside world. It thrives on the mass hysteria of the nationhood and prevails over the shadowy undercurrent of well-managed antagonism to the prevalent system of powers in the world. Education is used to legitimize the collective insecurities against the backdrop of colonial facts of exploitation. Under such environment people get ready to sacrifice individual freedoms and profits to bask in the glory of more sophisticated weapons, more medals at international sports meets, more upswing in the graph of economy and trade, etc. But sorry to say, it cannot be sustained for a decent amount of decades. 

The power of such dazzling rocket may impressively blind the eyes of supposed antagonistic outsiders, but the fuel in such a policy is not sufficient to land you in the stable geosynchronous orbit where the nation and its people will just effortlessly swim in peace and contentment. Hyper-specified distinctions as a race, as a nation cannot thrive unchallenged for too long in the ultramodern society. It somehow comes into conflict with the natural process of globalization and integration. America is comfortably enjoying the superpower status for a long time. The reason is that the stormy drive towards massive achievements in different domains was not at the cost of individual freedom. Unlike China here the river of basic human freedoms was not tamed through check-dams of politburo to harness human energy. Here it has always been allowed to flow decently free. The collective paranoia required to boost the rocket of superpower status was provided by the Soviet rivalry. 

The Soviet rocket, on the other hand, fell a bit short of the desired orbit of stability and crashed. In technology they matched each other shoulder to shoulder, step in step. The extra fuel in the American rocket was provided by the deep murmurs of individual freedom in the common hearts of common Americans. It somehow provides stability; creates a sort of pedestal on which the results of super-rivalry can be enjoyed for a relatively longer period of time. China's fastly rising balloon may also crashland. How can we ignore that behind each firm statistics in its achievement book, there are many statutes that strictly curtail basic human freedom. People will digest this as long as they are overfed with the diet of hate against a common, much vilified enemy. As the participants in this slowly smouldering cold war they think that they play a part by sacrificing a bit more due to some more rules. But after basking in the collective glory for decades, they will turn their heads back and analyse the sacrifices across generations. 

It turns counterproductive. The sea of collective victory cannot sustain unless it is fed through the sinewy rivulets of small-small basic freedoms and enjoyments that create outlets for common individuals to shine and feel victorious at the individual level as well. So this rising disparity between the verticals of its national glories at the international level on the one hand and the stagnant graph of political reforms may turn the table upside down, like it did informer Russia.

Douse First the Agni in Hungry Abdomens

Missiles are good. They might never be used. But their deterrence factor is acceptable. So all the best for the launch of Agni-V! But before we think of confidently hitting targets beyond 5000 kms, it is better if we spot the targets tugging at our shirts from all directions. This is the country where millions go hungry every day. Tragically, the FCI godowns are yearlong overfed with millions of surplus wheat. This wheat rots in rain under open skies. The governmental machinery finds it impossible even to distribute it. Damn it, what type of economy is this! Or the government finds even the weather elements and invisible bacteria as equal citizens of this country and keeps so much of wheat to be destroyed by them. It is fine to shoot majestic rockets to make your presence felt across globe, but it is also human to be true to your citizens by at least ensuring two meals a day. Moving ahead on the next stage of ICBM technology will require billions of dollars and technical expertise. But simply distributing the rottening grains in FCI shelters does not require the inputs of that order. It is a simple act driven by genuine concern for your fellow human beings. This extra farm produce can be made a productive part of our campaign against hunger and poverty. If the government cannot do even that, it is better to throw it to stray cows and pigs. It will serve some purpose of dousing the fire in some abdomen. Animal or human does not matter, because millions of humans in this great country enjoy the same status as stray cattle. They lie, walk, feed, defecate, procreate and die on roadsides.

Broken Dreams

It is the time to rethink. Rethink at the collective level. The time is ripe. Any educated Indian will accept that the Republic has been mismanaged terribly. Overflowing wealth in Swiss accounts bears testimony to this. If we compare the wealth amassed in dubious foreign accounts in independent India with the wealth drain during the colonial regime, I am afraid there might not be much difference between the two figures. The only consolation we can draw is that instead of the White man it is the Brown man who is doing the same chores of plunder.

The question arises: Whom to blame? Even with a pinch of salt, majority of us will agree that the kind of political ruling class and culture that emerged after Independence is more or less sired by Congress. As the juggernaut that fetched us freedom, it occupied a holy, absolute and unquestionable status. Dreamy-eyed Indians don’t question the illogical circumstances developing in their lives. They still worship their deities. Congress was a deity. Unfortunately public service rarely comes out of the bum feeling the warmth of divinity perpetually carpeting the throne. So for terms after terms people paid homage to Devi Congress by voting in its favor. But the religious trusts are rarely managed well by the priests.

The lesser genies are just the offshoots of the same colonial hangover traces like absolute power, milking the public resources for enlarging self-interests, using public authority to cut down any wind for change, family raj, etc. When non-Congress politicians amass wealth to lay a solid footing for dynasty-raj in their territories, they are just taking a logical and justified clue from the rulebook of the first political family in the country. It is tragic for the democracy. When as a legislator you lose sight of the constitutional objectives and responsibilities of public service for the masses and instead focus on establishing your lineage on the throne, then all the golden lines that were framed with dreamy eyes in the lengthy sessions of the Constituent Assembly take a backseat and become strings to a farcical puppet show of money, power and vagabondage.

Indian democracy is supposedly evolving healthily. But in reality it has been a malnutritioned and unhealthy baby. Where is the political choice at the national level? Literally every Indian is using bad words for the UPA government. There are not too many praisers of the BJP either. What will people do? A fractured mandate is a real possibility. The regional dynasty-rule-lorn satraps will enjoy the hotch-potch poultice brimming up in Delhi. Over-eaten Congressites will happily welcome a break after this blatant gluttony of public resources for a decade during its latest innings at amassing wealth. The Yuvraj will go sight-seeing tours relaxed and visit Dalit homes and try to find out the taste in the famed dal-roti of India. Maharani will give more focus to her Hindi accent. BJP is trying to see beyond Lal Krishna Advani. Its house in disarray, how much it can cash on popular disgruntledness is still in doubt. Maulana Mulayam plays his cards well and always sees the throne in Delhi a distinctly achievable target. Mayavati is happy to rally all the historically mistreated dalits behind her and make them believe that merely voting for a dalit and showing the index finger to upper-caste candidates means the Buddha-sent justice for them.

The question is: How long the educated middle class in India will continue with its famed apathy and allow the present kind of ruling establishment to thrive at the cost of common good. The popularity of Civil Society Movement provided some glimmer of hope. But how long can a movement survive and sustain while harping from the clean pedestal of morally clean apolitical carpet? How can you fight evil politicians without jumping into the political cauldron? It is like hunting a lion with sling-shots. For an effective fight it has to be inside the political cage only: a hand to hand real fight. But the moment they try to do it, even their supporters point fingers in admonishments that they appear just lesser dirty politicians in this avatar.

The main problem lies with the kind of political machinery that has taken the driving seat in the wagon of Indian constitutionality. So the main fight is there only. As far as Civil Society Movement is concerned, we can do them a favour--clap when they take mud-shots at the so-called starched khadi wears by fighting with as much political force as possible. In the looming directionless scenario, I think this is the need of the time. Who knows this extra hand will come with a pleasant surprise. So Ramdev, Anna Saheb & Company, the soon-to-retire General and many others should be encouraged to take to as much politics in their movement as possible. At least politics played by educated middle class will be better than the one played by people like the buffoon from Bihar.

Jats

Yours truly comes from the Jat stock. Arms working quicker than brain, culture being the agriculture, government services generally meaning police and military—well these are some of the fundamental traits of Jats. Oh just forgot the Haryanvi dialect that literally sums up the Jat attitude of being on top of this world in wisdom, knowledge, strength, stamina, guts, looks, sacrifice, etc., etc. There is one more historical element that qualifies as the defining element in the proud definition of being a Jat: our love for water buffaloes. Even a historian during the time of Alexander the Great notified that ‘these (Jats) people have a special affection for water buffaloes. I do not feel the pinch when some bruised city vallahas call we guys as ‘buffalo minds’ from the ‘buffalo land’. That’s true at least literally. Now coming to the time-tested fact of our love for water buffaloes! Sometimes back my mother sold her buffalo to a tough farmer. Now this one had been brought up by my mom like her daughter. Pampered to the hilt I tell you. But then taking care of this pampered one, whose requirements were seriously reaching human levels, was proving to be too tiresome for her. Now this rough and rowdy farmer was famous as the number one wife-beater in the village. While handing over the rope to this work brute, my teary-eyed mom said, ‘Son, hope you won’t mistreat this gudiya of mine!' 'I never beat buffaloes.....', prompt came the reply, 'I just.....', he stopped a bit embarrassed. He just stopped himself from saying that he beat his wife only. Well that shows our respect for the animal. You can say it is more or less equal to our womenfolk. The menfolk are male buffaloes anyway!

Acidified Roses

Flower buds are soft and lovely. Children are still softer. We call them the future of a country. This expectation derives from family, social and institutional support that is to be given to these human buds to enable them blossom fully. A kid's palms are very soft. They are not allowed to become coarse. Elders use their leathery knuckles and stony palms to allow fine maps on kid's palms so that they grow up as successful, happy individuals. But there are kids who are yoked into the merciless grind of survival game right from the beginning. They earn for themselves. These human buds do not get the time to blossom fully before becoming the fully functional part of the productive society. Their palms are never at ease to allow fine lines to evolve for a happy future. The lines get cut by the razor sharp edges of harsh reality they tread upon on a daily basis. On an impersonally honking and noisy crossing in Delhi, two kids pulled their heavily laden rickshaw out of the traffic mess. Horns blared. Getting-late-to-office elders threw curses. Traffic policeman even gave stares as if they had broken all the rules in his rulebook. Unconcerned they just expertly managed the odds heavily stacked against them by this uncaring world. There was no kiddish strain on their faces. These two boy-men cared a damn about the situation getting worse around them. They tended for themselves. I do not think we have any right to nurture any expectation from them as adults. Society and institutions have not given them anything. These have just robbed them of their childhood. Equipped with stony experiences and needle sharp instances, these kids have the right to draw any damn line on their palms. They reserve every right to cock-a-snook at the so called civilized and rule-based society. By killing a childhood, the society loses its right to lay claim on the desired, suitable adulthood.

Indian Army Shows Concerns

So the spineless UPA government is  trying its best to play down the issue of Indian military units suddenly moving to Delhi on 16-17 January this year. As we all remember it was the day when General V.K. Singh filed a petition in the Supreme Court regarding his age controversy. Anything could have happened. A lesser soldier, like most of his predecessors (semi-politician men of arms), would have been easily cowed down by the Defense Ministry. But the corrupt horde was against a real soldier this time. It has been an irony in this country that Indian defense forces have sacrificed so much across the volatile borders, meanwhile the larger enemies got ingrained almost legally within the constitutional machinery of the state and raped public confidence.

The way things were allowed to go astray during the UPA misrule, it was no surprise that Civil Society took the battle march against the enemies of the state. How long can you expect that army-men will continue to shed blood for the enemy outside while leaving a free ground for the goons in khadi to plunder mother India. Whatever that has happened during General V.K. Singh's term as the Indian military chief cannot be confined within strictly the date of birth controversy. It is a symbol of larger meanings. We can logically surmise that Indian army has started to understand the extent of harm done by the civilian government. For too long Indian army was pampered exclusively in an abstract zone: a zone where corruption, nepotism and the all the corrupt versions of civilian political scoundrel-ship were freely allowed to thrive by the Defense Ministry. Meanwhile it was stage-managed that the posts above Colonel were made more or less political in nature. These above-Colonel semi-politician-semi-military men acquiesced all the mucking game going inside and outside the army's domain. Then came General V.K. Singh! He understood the definition of state enemy in its appropriate dimensions. i.e., both outside and inside the state. So all the problems started with this understanding only. I think its a healthy precedent that one of the mighty constituents of  Indian State is asserting its place as a counterpoise to other wings of the state. The theoretical fools of democracy may give more task to their tongues by forecasting PAKISTAN LIKE army takeover in future, but it at least should send a clear signal to the corrupt civilian government that it can no longer take the support of army for granted like before. As far as the General in concerned, he has a lot to offer as a true Indian in his Civilian innings after May 31, 2012. God Bless Him!        

Rebels are in the Chambal Ravines; Dacoits are in the Parliament!

Arvind Kejriwal is sued for insulting Parliament. This is the tragedy of Indian jurisprudence. It allows the big fishes to escape the net and get elected to Parliament. Then they rape the system but pay lip service to Indian constitutionality by praising its loftiness. Their actions are, however, never interpreted to mean the insult of Parliament. Words ... mere words are sufficient to prove their credentials of clean citizens of India who keep up the honour of Indian Parliament. On the other hand is our Kejriwal whose each and every action pays homage to the rule of law, justice and honesty in the country. But his true words make him a culprit under the Indian law. Nonetheless, Civil Society is a force to reckon with now. All the thugs, scoundrels and rich ruffians who always look forward to a rich political innings have to rethink their plans now. Already the buffoon of Bihar, the rascal swindler who amassed 28,500 Crore in Swiss accounts over two decades, has been left to digest the fodder he has eaten so long. The idiot be fooled the hard-working Biharis by playacting the common man and plundered the mineral rich state for two decades. Many villages in Bihar, meanwhile, just knew that light meant Sun and lalten. There was no electricity in villages. 'It’s a city thing,' they accepted the hard reality in Lalu-accent. Now Nitish Kumar shows that there can be other angles to governance as well and I have seen the shades of pride and confidence on the faces of many talented Biharwallas. The system which allows such thuggery will accept you as long as you pay lip service and will condemn you the moment you open your mouth. But actions of Mr. Arvind Kejriwal are pure enough to give him a clean chit in the Lok Adalat. Why care about the Parliamentary fools! One more thing: the Parliament and Constitution are for the people of India not the other way around. We gave the right to certain individuals to frame them as per our aspirations. Now if we the common masses are making noises for a change then why these plundering rascals are finding it unlawful? Just incorporate the common man's wishes. That’s all! Our Civil Society representatives hold the right to call a 'shit' a 'shit'. How long they will force us to call it 'sweetmeat'!

The Outer Core

All of us carry an aura around us. It comprises an electro-magnetic field born of the flow of the life energy through and around our bodies. The quality of this aura is a function of our mental, physical and emotional states. Anger, regret, fear, jealousy, desperation, sorrow, rejection and hopelessness create a sort of negative energy and consequently a negative aura. It means we carry bad aura. It pollutes the surrounding environment like a heal of garbage. Now isn’t it our bounden duty to keep the environment clean by remaining positive, happy, smiling, poised, relaxed, sympathetic and compassionate? Its our duty fella! Its as good for others health as it is for our own. All the steps to the cleaning of all types of pollutants start from the self. Stay happy. Just by doing this we do a social service.

Congressite Smokescreen

I draw a certain constitutional right—A logical and self-derived right of an educated Indian to reinterpret Indian history within logical limits. I just do the same and do not mean anything derogatory to the characters who as per conventional interpretations managed to fetch the center-stage in the Indian freedom movement. Definitely, the Britishers had far more control over Congress affairs than average Indian believes because for him it symbolizes the very epitome of human urge for freedom. But could it be possible that the Congress leadership in pre-independent India was well controlled by the Britishers with an acceptance that since ultimately they have to go out of this country, it is best to have a buffer zone of leadership drawn from English-educated, foreign-returned gentry who will both save them from a revolutionary outpour as well as provide a controlled leadership to the ignorant Indian masses. Beginning with the first decade of 20th century, revolutionary terrorism was becoming a force to reckon with. Lok Manya Tilak was proudly claiming, 'Swarajya is my birth right!' Then the First World War came. Britishers were just not in a position to afford non-cooperation at the Indian front. See Mahatma Gandhi arrived swiftly on the scene and very soon all questions of Indian cooperation in British war efforts were settled. In a short span of time Indian soldiers were fighting at North African front. The Britishers had scores of reasons for pampering Gandhi-Nehru as they had for brutally suppressing and exterminating heroes like Bhagat Singh and sidelining Subhash Chander Bose. The prevailing philosophy of non-violence during the freedom movement was more helpful for the Britishers in every sense of the term. The ideal just minimized the chances of a popular upsurge (of 1857kind) against the White regime. This ideology however failed in stopping the bloodshed among Indians. See the farce: 1 million Indians died among themselves and the casualties to the outgoing regime were negligent (almost non-existent)!It was a smart move. Analyse the sprouts of those seeds of Western facilitation sown during those times and you will see the Colonial strains still blossoming in the skewed political stream of so called ‘Free India’.

Princilpeless Politics

You know why the UPA government has managed to survive the grisly tantrums of coalition politics? Simple: It has no democratic principle, ethos, morality and specific guidelines of political righteousness. The only principle it follows is just sticking to power at whatever cost. Be it allowing ministers from the coalition partners to plunder the country through scams like 2G Spectrum and Common Wealth Games or disgracing its own railway minister by rolling back the budgetary provisions just after the railway budget, the UPA just sticks to power like a dirty fly in bazaar hallucinated by the saccharine aura of cheap sweetmeats. And now they eat their cake and have it as well. It is no secret to what extent the top-boss in India helped the Sri Lankan army to wipe out the culprit Prabhakaran. It was a sweet revenge--and may be justifiably so given the sanctimony of human relationships and cause of justice for the victim. But now that very action is condemned at the UNHRC meeting to again appease the viruses of coalition politics, i.e., India has condemned the military action and violation of human rights in the events leading to the decimation of Prabhakaran who was eagerly following the polling scenario in India while bombs (many of them sent as avenging gifts from the bigger neighbour) burst around him. The gorilla leader was hoping for a government change in India and hence the possible lessening of heat from the Indian side. But fate had decided otherwise. While the LTTE leader awaited the declaration of Indian parliamentary results and the war zone came to be dangerously confined to bullet shot range around him, the UPA again came to power unexpectedly thus closing all his hopes. It was a typical Hindi movie end. Well, you guys can just imagine why and how all this happened.

Brown Jugaris

As Indians we need to learn that sometimes sticking to some more feasible (and more Indian sounding) means and mechanisms does not essentially indicate the signs of a poor, third world country. We just need to come out of this age-old British Raj habit that anything said, done,contrived or any product, service or technology do not necessarily become the reference scale for excellence to provide our own stuff with relatively poor marks. 

Western toilet seats are great! They serve a great purpose in countries where the people to loos ratio is pleasantly equal to 1:1. You use your utility and any unbecoming fallouts are still digestible because its more or less personal like your underwear. But in India,a single loo bears the burnt of so many gastronomical furies as would not be suffered by the combined total of a whole Western settlement. Still the Indian way served its purpose as well. Now coming to the grafting of Western loo concept in India. Big families, big offices, big crowds at public toilets in malls, cinemas and elsewhere make it nightmarish even for No.1 type, forget about putting your ass down for No. 2. And if the urgency forces you, its just like perching upon somebody's great work just seconds ago. But putting our asses to so many eager bacteria and viruses we draw solace in the fact that we are doing it in the Western way. 

Another example is the poorly creaking state of new Greenline buses in Delhi. It is modeled on the Western kind of public transport: smart, sleek, used by just as many passengers as wont even fill up all the seats even during the rush hours; and last but not the least meant for malai jaisa roads for best jerkless rides. Now here is the concept dumped in India: the poor thing travels sluggishly with thrice or fourth of its carrying capacity; its low floorboards hitting the road while it jumps painfully over potholes; technically inefficient DTC staff not having any clue whenever the poor thing runs into troubles. During the old days, the drivers were half-mechanics and sorted out most of the problems themselves. We have to accept that we Indians are jugaris (contrivers): the jugglers and contrivers who muggle up various unrelated elements to meet and resolve uncountable, ever-opening problems and issues. And this trait has seen the Indian elephant slugger ahead slowly but steadily on the path of growth. If we just graft the Western concepts outlandishly and slavishly we will just put our asses to risks. 

Materialism is Cool

Web of bondage! It has been a great topic of discussion between the materialists and spiritualists. Much as the spiritual guys will crib and advise against mankind's fruitless run after the so called 'physical fruits of bondage', the materialists on their part do have apparently justified arguments of this being the logical conclusion of the very story of our evolution and growth. With my limited perceptions, I look at the physical world as a sort of cozy room sheltering you from bad weather elements--your den that closes your being and gives it a physical identity. If the spiritualists call it a web of bondage which stops my soul shooting off into the hitherto undefined cosmos, then I am pretty much comfortable with this. Deprived of all the physical confines around me, I will just feel like a tiny speck open to the infinite risks looming around in only God knows what directions. My room, my set of comforts gives me a direction. I am pretty comfortable with that. I am its maker. It gives me a sense of pride for creating something out of nothing. Yes I do see through its windows that there is a larger meaning beyond the self-derived confines of the walls of my room. The feeble, but steady, light of faith tells and ensures me at least this much. But I am a human being. And pretty much in love with my identity and roof. If the spiritualists take pot-shots at me, I can just give them one humble and practical promise--I will try to raise the ceilings of my room to allow more of space of which they are so possessive. But I will retain the cozy confines of my room, my material bondage. Because that is being human! Its good to be materialistic as long as my soul can take comfortable slumber in my room; as long as I do not steal from others’ rooms; as long as I do not throw mudslings at others' rooms. One more logic, how can I walk the tightrope to infinity in the cosmic womb, unless I steady myself at a point with the bamboo of the physical fruits of my labour? It’s just like traveling in your car. The journey might be into the unchartered corridors of space, but you need a shelter, a roof. I am happy with the materialistic room around me. It defines this phase of my evolution. Without it I will be lost.