The gallant dance of a warrior princess

There has been another Covid-19 release, Lockdown 4.0. It is a far milder version of the previous lockdowns. The regional satraps, the state CMs, will get the primary power to set-up the norms in their territories.

How long people will stay indoors, so even though cases are increasing at the rate of 5000/day to take India precariously close to 100,000 mark, people have started venturing out. They come out like half-excited, half-afraid toddlers. And totter gingerly like they are learning to walk. The precautions against Corona have been crammed to the gill in our scared brains, so they take these measures and leave the rest to destiny. We are the most hygiene conscious generation ever in our history. Let’s hope our clean hands get used to doing cleaner deeds. That will be the real take away from the adversity.

Passenger trains, metro rails and air travel still remain out of bounds, leaving people skipping and hopping within little zones to gather the scattered sinews after the storm. In fact, the storm is still blowing around as much earlier, but then we have to start believing at some point that the worst is over.

The stranded migrant workers literally revolted and pushed against the check-dam. Miserably herded sheep leapt over the fence and go bleating out their unnoticed miseries at full blast. You have to sing out your song of misery, otherwise nobody cares. They have blasted out a loud chorus of their collective miseries. To them life with or without Corona hardly makes any difference. They have hardly anything to lose. Their fistful of identity has been blown away to nameless specks I the dust of poverty being trampled against the running boots. So the sheep panicked and broke the ranks as a clueless central and state governments watched helplessly.

One can stay indoors is he has something to give a sense of belonging. They hadn’t anything. Their only identity was their native soil which they had abandoned in crisis to earn a living. Now they remembered the kind, old mother and run helter skelter.  Instead of staying hungry and jobless inside their shanties, they set out. All governmental measures failed as they revolted in hundreds of thousands. Many are perishing in accidents, fatigue, exhaustion and psychological trauma. We are calculating Corona losses in infections and casualties and monetary losses. Who will measure the indivisible un-chronicled tales of the agony of these destitute people? They just took a leap of faith and set out on foot to somehow reach there little hamlets and villages hundreds and even thousands of kilometers away. Untold and unmeasured miseries!

China is as usual behaving like the rascal bully in the class, although cornered for being caught red-handed, threatening those who raise voice against it with tariff strikes and flexing its military muscles at littoral little nations around South China Sea. No need to stoop to their level in combating their menace. There is a very simple technique of irritating the hell out of China. The communist regime has 70 years of grisly skeletons of secrecy in its ideological cupboard. Demand facts, ask clearance of all the enigmas that they have built up. Train them in the art of being accountable. That will be the preliminaries to democracy. Start a worldwide movement ‘Democracy in China’. Ask them where is Panchen Lama? Ask what happened at the Tiananmen Square. Give a voice to millions of Chinese whose forefathers perished in concentration camps with the stigma of the enemies of the state. There is no need to bay for human blood anymore. Corona is sufficient for that as of now. Luckily, China and America are busy in the cute war of firing salvos through filing law-suits. In the US, Chinese linked researchers are being picked up for interrogation.

The US is formulating Plan 18 to beat China over Covid 19. To gain numerical superiority, it should have been Plan 20. It involves a host of military and economic measures in alliance with China’s neighbors to tame the rampant bully. In and around the South China Sea, an embittered and aggrieved USA is encouraging Japan, Taiwan, South Korea, Vietnam and India to create a stranglehold against the mighty red bully by supplying these intimidated neighbors with most sophisticated weapons in its kitty. Also, about 120 countries at the WHO have demanded an impartial probe into the Corona issue in China. And how many allies China have? A few rogue states like North Korea and Pakistan. Doesn’t it speak volumes about their international standing?

Even India is in a position to fire innocuous salvos at China as it gets ready to head the WHO executive board for the next three years. Many countries are now vying for an observer status for Taiwan at WHO meets. Ironically, those who have failed to manage the virus, and even the one that is possibly deliberately responsible for unleashing the pandemic, are the who’s who of the world health body, while a small island nation that has beaten the virus fair and square through expert management has to fight even to sit on the sidelines in the observer chair.    

We Indians have huge faith in God. Billions of rupees of holy money are lying unquestioned, untouched and untaxed in religious trusts and organizations. Why not ask God for help? He won’t mind blessing some liquidity to the cash-starved market!

Corona has shaken the social fabric in remote coastal hamlets. A fishing boat is heaving lugubriously near the coast. The fishermen are stranded as their fellow hamlet dwellers won’t allow them to return, lest they bring Corona along with the fish. Government has allowed strict local watch guards to take control of the affairs at the street and locality level. In the huge maze that India is, it’s unthinkable to manage the invisible enemy without their stern eye against any outsider in their locality.

In a hospital, a soldier has won a battle in an unfamiliar territory. He has beaten Corona. He is triumphant and rightly so. He is dancing to Bhangra tunes in the hospital corridor on getting discharged. A nurse in PPE also dances as the triumphant battle marshal to have won it for the soldier who turned civilian in the current war. The PPE is the august coat of armor in this war.

To give you a clue to how things have toppled down in slope. The world’s second largest cigarette maker, British American Tobacco claims to have made Covid 19 vaccine. Tobacco is the leading cause of lung cancer. Does it mean people need to be saved from Corona to die sometime from cancer? The only competition as of now is the race to develop the first vaccine against the virus to turn gold out of the gloomy coal mine of Corona. This is the only competitive game going on at the moment.

Corona is really helping our security forces in managing the clamp down in Kashmir in the aftermaths of the state’s changed status. At least here, Corona seems in league with the state to help impose and further legitimize the curfew.

Media is now fed up with the cumbersome ‘always righteous’ kind of reporting that we saw for the last two three months. To be frank, media is best when there are real news and problems; but they carry over their momentum quite funnily even when there is hardly any real news and they create silly news with their ever-boiling reporting temperament.

The cute weather war between India and China

The world definitely has to look beyond Corona. After all, it cannot just be a Corona-centric world forever. Lockdown 4.0 beginning from May 18 will definitely have easing of restrictions. As more and more countries have come to terms with the existence of the Wuhan virus, the easing of lockdown measures has begun. The real test of individual precaution and immunity will happen when we come out of the trenches and face the enemy in the eye. Let’s hope we have the vaccine when we decide to fight in the open.

If at all there has to be a war among we humans, let it be a cute war. Mind you, a cute war avoids bloodshed and gratifies our egos almost in the same way a bloody war does. Winning in a street pebbles game and at Olympics has the same parameters qualitatively. There is just quantitative difference. So why take animosity to the level of blood-bathing when we can have our innocuous brawls. Sanity has sunk in Indian and Pakistani minds. We have decided to engage in a cute war, the Weather War. Instead of going for surgical strikes in the POK, we have issued weather bulletins on the Pakistan occupied territory of Kashmir, thus implying that it belongs to us. Pakistan also hits back by broadcasting weather report of Ladhak. They but misfire even here. The hilarious goof-up: they say maximum temperature is  ̶ 4 ͦ C and the minimum is  ̶ 1 ͦ C. What a lovely and cute weather soldier they have at radio Pakistan. He is right as far as digits are concerned. But there is a thing called minus sign also. Pakistani government, kindly train them well for the weather war!

To prepare us for a much transformed Lockdown 4.0, the honorable PM addresses the nation for the fifth time during the tough phase. His address isn’t Corona centric this time. He exhorts Indians to move ahead and become self-reliant. I think it’s the best way to cut China to its size by robbing them of such a huge market that we have offered them on a platter. The trade deficit is too much: we export worth 60000 crore; and import 425,000 crores. Do you still need to know where we should aim to hit. Again a cute war! Make their exports to India redundant.

The PM has laid down the foundation of a self-reliant India by announcing an economic package worth 20 lac crores in 2020. ‘Be vocal for the local!’ he gives the clarion call. He exhorts we Indians to look beyond Corona by coming out with basic precautions and see through the transitory Lockdown 4.0 to move ahead with reasonable protection to full scale progress and development.

We have the potential to become the manufacturing hub of the world. With 20% share, the Indian generic pharmaceutical industry is literally the pharmacy of the world. Let there be a vaccine developed anywhere in the world, they have to depend on the Indian generic pharmaceutical industry for mass production and supply.

In a globalized world, wars will be primarily economic in cold phase and biological during the hot phase. The heat of the hot phase we are all bearing currently. The cold phase in economic terms will follow. Australia has been vocal about international investigation to look into the virus issue in China. An angry China hits back by cancelling a beef order worth 2 billion dollars from Australia. Again cute salvos in a cuddly war. Let’s continue doing that. It’s funny and interesting at the same time.    

The one-party system in China has all that it takes to misuse power. There is hardly any balance of power. At the grossest level of existence, 'Truth' is a little candy held tightly in the fist of the hand that is 'Powerful'! A dictatorial regime twists ‘Truth’ to scatter it to dust around. It blinds the masses with the rising dust of ideology. Let’s—through cute wars only—ask them to have at least one opposition party, however weak it might be to begin with. It will help us to forget our injured democracies, if even the fake opposition in the Red bastion takes comic salvos now and then at the real power center. One cuter salvo in the cute war against China! Put Taiwan on the forefront at WHO meets to discuss the effective measures to stop and handle the pandemic. It’s better to throw chili in the enemy’s eye instead of throwing grenades.

Now another theory has surfaced. It says Wuhan had Corona cases as far back as September last. A team of doctors in masks and PPEs had thronged the Wuhan airport after getting the reports that an airplane passenger had collpased suddenly. They made it pass as a military drill to manage emergency medical situations. In October, Wuhan hosted the world military games in which 10,000 military personnel participated. Many participants now tell that they felt sick with influenza type symptoms. In fact, France has tracked its zero patient to be a woman who visited the store operated by the wife of one of the military personnel who visited Wuhan for the games. It was way down the line on December 31 that China announced the outbreak. If that is the case, it makes it equally serious to the theory of deliberate or accidental leak from the lab.

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! Enjoy the smile of a sun-shaded rose! I have put the rose in a shade too give it a chance against the merciless heat. It dazzles the hot air in the shade. A winsome smile! This is what I do to stay meaningful to life and living within my premises. Creation is creation. I facilitate the creation of these little smiles. 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! When you come out of the trenches, be your better version! I suggest a recipe as well. The recipe of a perfect human being: strong body, sharp mind and soft heart. I mean Shiva! Try to be Shiva!

At the personal level, it has been the worst time in my life. Here are the most meaningful words spoken to me during the last few months---as I tried to steady my feet after the most irremediable loss of my life---by a Tibetan Buddhist Friend. Truth seems to have showered her with the ultimate grace during her months-long meditations in the snow-clad caves in Ladhak. Thanks O seeker of truth for balming my bruised soul through such simple and succinct words:

"We have been born to learn about the love and impermanence of life, and we will have to learn this lesson again and again until we have eternal peace before every injury!"

The cute fight between a porcupine and an ant eater

With his humanistic Covid-wartime measures, PM Modi has earned much appreciation internationally. And rightly so! He has the potential to emerge as the most influential world leader. He has so much to offer not just to India but to the entire world. The Indian PM’s voice is keenly anticipated at the NAM virtual summit. The group of 120 non-aligned countries has the potential to emerge as an effective block in the coming times as geopolitics will be churned vigorously to produce various permutations and combinations.

Humanity takes an evasive stance as the hordes of migrant workers offloaded by Shramik trains at their native railways stations get welcomed with jet sprays of disinfectants like you spray a lifeless chair. They get the cleansing spray holistically, their bundles, sacks and all possessions and their bodies. Little do they realize the virus may be safely cocooned inside the system, this beating both the temperature guns and disinfectant cannon fires. The human body is too sturdy a battle gear for the errant Corona.  

Out of job barbers are making up for their loss of business. There are many who don’t have a trimmer of their own. So barbers help them in harvesting their crop for an all-clean ground at 100 rupees. Profits! People have to make money despite all that is happening around. Illegal and illicit liquor is warming many a pocket. The ubiquitous beedis are in shortage. One little packet of beedis is selling at 10 times its normal price. It is the mere grassroots level manifestation to make profits out of the pandemic. The rat race to make profits will cascade upwards at higher levels to include corporations, countries and organizations, who will come forward to earn quick bucks in the name of alleviating humanity’s pains.

A guy in the neighborhood created a mini storm in the locality. He and one other guy had gone to repair the tractor of a farmer. The farmer turned out to be Corona positive. Surprisingly, he turns out to be an aware farmer also. A rare combination indeed! He informs the tractor agency about his status and asks them to get their mechanics tested as well. One of the guys immediately ran to the city for testing along with five other guys with whom he was smoking hukka when the news reached him. The other guy but thought of dodging the issue and was heard saying, ‘I will infect all people in the locality!’ Scared people called the village head and the police to get him tamed. His house now bears the Covid 19 quarantine status poster. He is seen sitting by his house like a chained sullen monkey.

Those who can’t help the urge to punish China for the Corona curse, there is a non-violent way to hit the dragon where it hurts the most. The war threat in future will be biological in nature mostly and retaliations will be in the form of economic skirmishes. Much as we suffer with our social distancing, China can be made to pay with economic distancing. Intending countries should systematically cut down their trade deficits with China. Now, funniest of the funny thing in this tragedy! China is open to international investigation into the issue of Corona origin in its territory. Massive surprise, how can they be so open! Wait, the air of surprise will pass out with their condition. They want the international probe to be undertaken by the WHO! It’s like a thief asking the judge to allow the investigation to be done by his friend thief.

Long before China, it was Taiwan that informed WHO about the mysterious influenza and its human to human transmission. Ironically, the WHO doesn’t even recognize Taiwan. So they didn’t even listen to what the tiny island nation was pointing to. China still wields an immense economic clout. As long as it has the economics to shield its sins, it’s safe. If not for this, the EU—the worst sufferer block in the pandemic—won’t still be willing to accommodate China despite their terrible losses. Their helplessness is understandable, but give Taiwan the status they deserve. They are a democracy. Nurture them and shield them directly now, don’t feel shy.

Small countries around the South China Sea are holding with courage against the fire-spitting dragon as the bully grabs disputed islands in the sea. The communist hunger for land is insatiable. The world is almost dying with the pandemic, they but are still blood-shot sure about their hegemony. To give another clue to the Chinese hunger for land, a Chinese expert has published an article on a reputed Chinese website. He has dug a bit deeper into the history to say that Kazakhstan and Kirgizstan belonged to Changez Khan Empire, so now they should be included in the Chinese territory. Nothing wrong with the logic! But by the same logic, Somalia has the right to the entire globe because the first band of Homo-sapiens started from East Africa to colonize the earth. So Somalia has a better right in strictly legal terms.

The superpower’s woes are not bowing down in the least. It seems like bugs from the East have taken a liking for the land of the opportunities. Asian Giant Hornet (Murder Hornet) has been found on the American soil. It kills honeybees and destroys agriculture. To make it worse, a group can kill a human with multiple bites. Let’s hope they don’t take a fancy for the luch gree White House premises. If that happens, the radars will be busy in picking out bees instead of Chinese and Russian missiles.  

ZARA is manufacturing medical supplies. Who cares for luxury fashion, when locked inside the house one pair of funny boxers and crumpled T-shirt can give the Kingly feeling. Inside the house, there is no image to maintain. There is hardly anyone to pass judgments. If at all, one’s sniggering spouse will say something, which still would be the same even if one gets attired in the world’s best wares. So who cares for high end luxury fashion!? So ZARA makes face masks. Hasn’t the world come upside down? Our skulls had gone reverse earlier, so now dangling like bats may be we will read the message straight.

Russia is now rapidly evolving to the level of Europe and America. Great progress! By Corona I mean. There are 240,000 cases. Surprisingly, only 2000 people have fell to the virus, while with the same number of infections, other countries have lost 30 to 40,000 people. Either the Russians have the best immunity—in that case their platelets can save many lives outside Russia—or the errant kid China has given them some vaccine. In the latter case, the errant kid ought to hand over the vaccine to the outside world. But who trusts the quality of Chinese products these days.

Far away in the Naxalite infested forests of Chhatisgardh, thousands of migrant workers are walking on foot from Telangana to Jharkhand. They carry their Covid quarantine status stamps on the back of their hands. Status is quarantine strictly but they are free to roam the dangerous forests to find their path to survival. I hope the forest animals and tribal people won’t object to their entry there as possible Corona carriers. As they move ahead, hungry, beaten and thoroughly bruised, the Indians outside splurge 1000 crore on liquor purchase on the first day of opening of the wine outlets. Huge celebrations at least in one section of society! Of course, our king boozers have set the economic wheels spinning again. God keep their drinking appetite for they are the saviors of our economy at the moment.   

The Corona knot gets strangled further. A top Corona scientist of the Chinese origin has been murdered in America. The US has accused China of stealing Covid-19 vaccine research. There is much-much more to this Corona affair than it meets the eyes of a commoner like you or me. Let’s wait till things become public. Or do they ever become public? I mean the version that reaches us is filtered selectively to the extent of being a gossip-worthy puny thing over tea. The facts are kept under the carpet. What we believe to be reality is simply a convenient assemblage of doctored facts to churn out expected opinions and rumors. Well, the art and craft of leaders to rule over the meek horde of sheep.

Along the India-China border, across the rugged terrain, the volatile relationship between the two Asian giants takes serpent curves. The actual lines of control are sprawled across immense stretches of inhospitable land. The patrol parties from both ends push against each other through cute skirmishes usually. They shout foul words, throw lewd gestures, throw stones and in the worst case scenario they scuffle and push each other like wrestlers. I think massive bodied Sikh troops can heave around many a small Chinese troop. So another cute front gets opened in Sikkim. India China troops throw stones at each other leaving 7 Chinese and 4 Indians injured. We Indians take solace in defeating them in the numbers of injured. A victory at long last! Why make missiles when we can cutely fight with stones?! Chinese choppers are seen near the LAC in Akshai Chin. The bored Indian Air Force pilots get some adventure and they rush to shake our own skies with the latest warplanes. Very cute warfare these are, I tell you. How I wish all our wars ended at this level only. Like a porcupine stretching up its needles and staring at an ant eater and both of them going their own ways after gratifying their egos a bit.  

          

A poor pregnant mother gets kicked in her belly

The worldwide Corona infection cases stand at 4.5 million with 300,000 fatalities. Stealthily the number is creeping up in India also, like water oozes out of the cracks in a dam. Let’s hope the dam doesn’t give away altogether! India is almost like a raw fodder for the fiery virus. If it goes out of control, the loss in other countries will lose its meaning. They will consider themselves lucky, if god forbid the virus actualizes its full evil potential in India.

As of now, we have 75000 cases with 2300 casualties. On a positive note, a third of these have recovered completely, making the recovery rate at 33%, which creates many hopes. May be, the exposure to bugs, bacteria and virus in the filth and squalor of routine struggle on the mundane stage of life has bestowed herd immunity to we Indians. The virus appears to have a sadistic pleasure in tormenting the sanitized, cleaner cultures. Well, the poor have their own diseases, so have the rich. But that doesn’t mean we should go all dirty. The importance of hygiene and cleanliness has been understood well, even by those who barely understood the difference between latrine box and altar.  

Pop Diva Madonna is reported to be very happy after months of sulking and suffocating the interiors of her house. Tests have given the good news. She has the antibodies for the ill-famed virus. It means the bastard may not be fatal to her. She is thus ecstatic to go on a long drive in the scary Covid-19 air. She can now afford to roll down the windows and feel the kiss of air on her youthful cheeks. She has the protective gear inbuilt in her system against the enemy, which will fail to ambush her. Happy for her that she is going to have a sip of freedom at last! Haven’t we turned freedom too costly? The freebies of nature—the air, the water, open skies, pristine forests—have been chucked out in greed. Now is the time to pay for the loot. The rationing has started. Take care!

In India, the swashbuckling Lockdown 3.0 is a hugely costly affair. There is a categorization of red, green and orange zone. Life is supposed to take to cautious steps first in the green zones without any known Corona cases, followed by Orange where there are just few cases to be followed by the lugubrious steps in the scary red ones. But it’s very dicey. Let there be the slightest mistake and the lights may change colors. Well, we have been used to the play of lights at traffic signals. The green gives such a sense of relief. Let there be a green signal for all to move again. The red light has been too long and tortuous. Well, traffic rules sometime help in running the country also, apart from managing the road traffic. It means all this is a mammoth journey only.

During the lockdown, every life saved comes at the cost of crores of rupees. Life has been undeservedly too much monetized. Let’s now learn to define life and living in non-monetary terms also. It will help us, believe me.

Those at the lowest rung in the socio-economic ladder are suffering miserably. Their painfully set up homes and hearth are gone in a jiffy in the cities. People are walking back to their roots. A horrible reverse migration has started. How long we can expect them to stay stranded in ghettos without job and other basic minimum facilities of common life. Poverty has been pushed further into a darker corner. Even the miserable life of earlier appears rich in contrast. Only after losing what we possess, we come to realize the importance of the tiny blessing we earlier had!

Government has started special trains to take them home. They are the fatigued, defeated and lacerated soldiers who fought for our development in cities. Millions and millions want to escape from the imperiled urban fronts in the war. A train can adjust only 1200 passengers, where will the rest go? Getting a ticket appears like the biggest lottery. There is a provision for online booking. Even among the poorest of the poor, the luck will favor the better ones. I mean those selected few who have a smartphone and know how to make an online booking. So the moment the booking opens, the seats are taken by the more privileged among the poorest of the poor. It leaves millions who don’t have a phone. They have to choose other options by default. The best option by default is to start walking to one’s home that is more than a thousand kilometer away. A leap of faith! An escape from the ignominy of being stranded meaninglessly! At least you walk. You do something at least!

People get driven by rumors and stand in front of railway stations. They wait for the train that isn’t even scheduled. They but have to keep their hopes alive. Corona cannot rob them of their hope of a train. They stand in miles long queues for days. Social distancing loses its meaning. Poor migrant workers are paying lump-sum from their miserly savings to hitch clandestine rides in goods trucks. Sometime police topples the cart. Stranded in the middle, they hardly have any clue to what and why of future. We can measure loss in monetary terms, but who will calculate the silent, unchronicled miseries of millions who suffer in the dark, unknown chambers of this battlefield.

Destiny plays cruel jokes. You pay for an illegal travel in a goods truck, brave all legal risks and pay like you are paying airfare. You are lucky to cross almost a 1000 Km and just 350 Km away from the sweet native soil. You are ready to forget the miseries for that safe and secure feeling of reaching your place. Corona-infected destiny but still plays the spoilsport. It derails the journey indirectly. The vehicle meets an accident. Many get injured and those able to walk continue with their journey on foot. Can you believe, autos have been hired to travel 1200 Km. A family had just started counting the countdown Kms to home and the tiny three-wheeler meets an accident. A woman and a small girl die and others grievously injured lie in a hospital. We definitely reach home, but which ‘home’ it is always decided by some mischief mongers that stay invisible to us.

A small group of workers spends their entire savings earned through the soot, grease and grime of an urban toil to purchase cycles. People would still not lose a chance to earn money. Profit and loss is the only way we can think these days. Under distressed purchase, the rickety cycles are sold at an exorbitant rate. They don’t have any option. The poor workers buy and start on the arduous journey, going hungry, and being harassed by police at borders. The most they can ask from God at this juncture is that the tyres bear till they reach their villages. Humm, some migrant workers are caught hiding in the concrete mixer. I pray they don’t start the mixer by accident and mix human flesh with concrete. Well, it always has been mixed to set up the shiny edifices. But all that is done in subtle manners, indirectly. Doing it in letter will turn out to be too gory a sight. Let it stay in spirit only.

The house owners throw away the laborers for not paying rents. A house owner thinks in a typically legal way that he is entitled to the rent at any cost, under any circumstances. Well, law is on his side. The law is helpless beyond the strictly theoretical boundary on the paper. Is it Law only that we need to manage our society? Well, machines have an all-Law society, not humans. As the mechanics of Law take over our functioning, our mechanization will surely take us to the threshold of a dehumanized, artificial intelligence driven society. It would then be better to do archaeological search for the real man like we search for dinosaur skeletons now.

People walk on foot. The soles blistered. The already misshapen, abused feet getting lacerated to take crooked animal shapes! A hard crust of misery and helplessness stuck to their faces. Will they be able to smile at ease in future? It will take a long time if ever they will. They have few provisions, so few that a house will look empty with them. But whatever they have is the unavoidable essentials without which one can’t survive possibly for more than a day. So they cannot afford to abandon even these. They stack up their provisions in gunny sacks and begin on foot. The provisions are too little for a little house, but these are too heavy for a human head. They look like famished beasts of burden. They lumber ahead impassively, like jombies. Smallest feet learn to walk. Toddlers held in their arms. The bitter lessons for the youngest generation. Pregnant women walk with the extra load of maternity. A woman gives birth on the way and still has the courage to walk another 150 Km after the delivery. Salutes O Mother!

There are still luckier ones among this unlucky horde. Some have bikes. They load their entire family and provisions on the bike, yank a jibe at a small car, and move out on thousand plus kilometer journey. They have to dodge Corona. They have to dodge police also. Some have carrier rickshaw loaded with their sacks and take turns to ride and the rest run by the side. We have been condemned to move. We are shifty and restless. We have the curse to move at any cost.  

Those were the happy days when the Caravan had stopped by the busy outskirts of Sonipat. The caravan of wandering nomadic ironsmith is bigger than you expect these days. They are the stateless subjects of India. They still survive on the fringes without most of the rights that we take for granted. They still have sturdy wooden ox carts. The trace of modernity, however, is visible through their well-hammered bike carrier contrivances. The torso of a bike is welded to a tiny carrier behind. The carrier frame has their typical nail-headed gypsy pattern. Well, we give it all to retain our identity. How do they survive now with their movement, their life literally, stopped? It’s like a fish without water. I hardly have any clue. Their only right is the right to move. Corona has taken away even that. Right opposite the road, the district administration allows vegetable stalls during the early morning for 2-3 hours. That is the time when the gypsies smell the scent of humanity. People hurry across the city till 7 in the morning to muster up enough to see through the day. And the caravan lies on the fringes, bearing the slap on its face for a sin that it isn’t even involved in. The curse is born of the sedentary culture. What do they have to do in all this?  

All health establishments from a quack to a Harvard returnee doctor are usually crammed to the gills with patients, throughout the year, all ways, almost all hours and even minutes. It would make one wonder how come literally everyone is sick. Under the lockdown, my only query is: where are all those perpetual patients? All these neighborhood clinics and nursing homes and quack shops are empty and out of business. And surprisingly, the mortality rates haven’t gone up due to the shortage of these services. Haven’t we got habituated to fall sick and run to get medicines? I mean, you have the markets crammed with consumer items and most of the times we just buy even when we don’t need the things urgently. With health services scattered all around, possibly we itch like a consumer to avail their services somehow in a consumerist mode.

Well, silver lining at last. The big, fat, cumbersome and earthshaking Indian weddings are postponed. Less population growth rate at long last. Hail Corona at least on this! But then you have gallants still out there to hit the bed of matrimony. There are virtual marriages through Whatsapp video calls. The groom then takes his princess on a bike. Some take pheras in masks. Well, in a typical arranged marriage in India, the bride and groom hardly know anything about each other. With masks on, it must be like two aliens getting married, I mean a Maritan and an Earthling! And where is social distancing on the conjugal night!?

WHO that has turned into CHO is again and again parroting about the natural cause of the virus. It’s a well fed parrot that has been crammed to the guts with monetary chilies by its patron China. The WHO is praising China’s efforts in managing the pandemic—can you believe it, the world’s premiere health body is praising a country whose secrecy and mismanagement has brought humanity to such a disaster. Their economic clouts will help them more than their nukes. Why then waste so much of economy over redundant whales that are buried in bunkers. Use the same money to strengthen the economic clout.

They but won’t even mention Taiwan, the country who has set up the best example how to manage the virus: Just 400 plus cases and only 8 deaths. Can you believe it? The WHO but, under Chinese influence, doesn’t even invite them at meetings to share their expertise. All those who are eager to bring China to the dock should recognize Taiwan as a sovereign nation. The redgurads aren’t as much afraid of a nuke strike as they are of a sovereign Taiwan. There are always better means to bring the evil to book because the evil leaves many chinks in its armor through its own nature, inevitably.

People hardly have the guts to visit the friendly neighborhood barber. His effacing smile is hijacked by the Corona sinister grin. With his hands twisting your chin, cheeks, nose and head, he appears like a Corona-hobnobbing yamdoot. Hair styling is gone down the winds. People are no longer dancing on the excited stage of life, so glitz and glamour has frizzled out. Bald is the most popular hairstyle. And people manage it with their own trustable trimmer. And believe me, going bald hasn’t shaken the universe as one apprehended earlier. Doesn’t it mean that most of our sophistication is born of our mind’s construct? Convenience fetches simplicity and more peace. Saloon keepers beware; you may be required to take up other professions.

Well, the communal spinoff of Corona keeps doing the rounds now and then. Media launched a well-managed witch-hunt for finding the Corona and Islamic links. There were a few mischief mongers, but their over-enthusiasm resulted in the entire community being maligned. Who suffers? The common Muslim by birth who has to come out for a living and who has no role in the greater games of religion. In Lucknow, hotspots have been named after mosques. It’s an effort to throw chilies into the smoldering fire. Far away in the UAE, two expatriate Indians are sacked from their jobs for posting Islamophobic social media content. The OIC also puts up a notice against India for the current Islamophobic environment in India. They may have sensed something to arrive at the conclusion. But how can they stay blind to what China is doing to Uighur Muslims? Business is the only belief and faith of mankind. All other kinds of religion and Gods are merely the conceptions to sustain the business god.

Federalism is at its best as of now. The central cabinet is gone into a huddle and virtual instructions are almost symbolic. The states manage their fiefdoms and so do the district administrations. With politicians gone into a pondering huddle, the bureaucracy is functioning at its best. We have seen a little glimpse of a non-politicized bureaucratic functioning for some time. It isn’t disappointing I tell you. With the political mind just focused on Corona, the honest officers get a lucky lease to operate as per their talent. Karnataka state government must be feeling very relaxed and unchained as they issue an instruction for the online application to enter or exit the state. Aren’t all these boundaries our mind constructs? Now Karnataka border is as good as an international border, at least in effect.

Kim Jong has been seen. Or was it is his double? There is speculation. Well, whether it’s fake or real, the medal he receives is surely genuine. President Putin has awarded the North Korean dictator a World War 2 commemorative medal. Is it an honor from one pseudo dictator to another real one? In effect both are the same. But just imagine, wearing one’s heart on sleeve gets one into? Pseudo has benefits of a world leader; real face gets bricks of tyranny.

At long last, the African countries are realizing the parasitic relationship with China. Trapped in debt and attacked with racial slur, there are voices of dissent. Hope better sense will prevail and the rulers there will think of subjects instead of just getting Swiss accounts hitting the vaults in hobnobbing with China.

Well, misfortune of millions usually results in the fortune of the few. Same will happen post-pandemic. The stampede tramples the weakest. The fortunate ones usually stay afloat to mint more money out of the miseries. The international drugs and pharmaceutical cartels will of course make huge money. The poor will just think of gathering their scattered sinews after the storm. The wealthy ones find new opportunities as life and living will take onto course again.

And finally the booze gets unleashed. How long it could have been contained? A liquorless India is almost unrecognizable. It’s no India at all! The masses lynched by the agonies of survival hit the bottle to forget past, present and future after the back breaking toil and the state mints money. No wonder all drunkards contribute so massively to the cause of nation building. The revenue from the liquor is too massive for the government to even think of people going without the potion of forgetfulness. With all industries closed during the lockdown, and the sources of revenue drying up, the government fell back upon the kind, old booze. Now all social distancing norms fell flat. Where is the Muslim-hunting media? All of these are Hindus? Is a crowd of Hindus less risky for Corona than a Muslim crowd? Think of it. And please save yourself from the sins of sowing the seeds of another partition of the country down the line.

So the happiest news of the past few weeks hits the screen. Wine shops open. The boozers hit the ceilings in ecstasy. Worried wives and children meanwhile curse the government. Many women even protested against the opening of the wine outlets. But modern society means business only. No one can stop the wine industry. The customary rounds of domestic violence start again. The peace is broken. A man may think for ten days about spending money on his children’s books, but instinctively runs with all his savings to purchase wine. Empty pockets suddenly get money from somewhere. There are miles long queues. The business has started. India is back on the track. The economy has taken up. The wine has the power of drawing money out of the most miserly pockets.

A man is showering flowers at our nation-builders as they wait in hot summers with money in their pockets and the will to make India great again. ‘You are the economy of our country!’ he says. They stand with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. The government is also eager to help them contribute more for nation building. There is an extra cess to the tune of 70%. They are happy to pay. Let there be a 10 paisa increase in petrol prices, many voices cry foul. The wine pandemic has the capability to beat the poor Corona Pandemic.

Geeta and Ramayan are to be shown on JNU campus. Mythology pill served to cure the ancient scourge of communism on the campus. As the world frantically searches for a cure to Corona, the government is helplessly trying to find a cure for the indomitable campus bug at the JNU. It’s very obstinate and is stuck up at the political khadi like an angry nettle thorn.

                

           

The Kind Old Major

Sad times for a jailed writer! A Covid 19 quarantine poster on the neighbouring house. And a curfew-imposing bully threatening me to stay inside. Will our world, I mean the world of humans, see better days?

This bully who fully understands that we are on the back foot—and hence tries to claim more space in the human settlement, intimidating people and setting himself like a curfew guard—draws my memory a decade back. How I wish we had our kind old Major with us. The memory acquires even sharper notes as I see this ruffian sleeping in the open along with his clan —on the ground itself—unconcerned and unmindful of any transgression by we humans. To put it plainly, the criminal, goon bully cares a damn about us anymore. He is free. Corona is helping him copiously. How I wish we had our kind, old Major to teach this misbehaving tramp a nice lesson. Well, Major would certainly have dispensed justice for us, without delay, right there on the scene of crime.

The village was taking convulsive, irritated and helpless turns under the simian onslaught. The red-faced, red-bottomed and red-balled Rhesus tramps had bred profusely. All the females had babies stuck up to their tummies. To cock a snook at us, they mated shamelessly on rooftops, grimacing hideously at the onlookers. Then they would muster up more courage to molest women and girls, harass them, get after them, and snatch things from their hands. I specifically say that they took more liberty with women than men. I wonder was it simply their instinctive realization that they are softer sex and hence less threatening, or was it blatant sexism involving some raw sadistic pleasure in putting human females at discomfort. If it was the latter, the crime then turns unpardonable. 

So instead of stooping low to their rascally level and fight on their terms, someone had a more elevated idea. Get a Langoor man! If the offended Homo-sapien in you can’t get over the feeling of taking revenge against the errant ancestors of ours, wait! Before you think of any drastic measure—thus degrading you to the level of lawless goons themselves and thus go into regression to be what we were sometime back in the chronological book of evolution—think like a human. Get a Langoor!

An enemy’s enemy is my best buddy. I just love this majestic silver-furred black-faced angel. It’s far bigger, more on the stoic side, doesn’t waste its energies in unnecessary shit like the recklessly red-faced, shamefully red-bottomed and funnily red-balled smaller Rhesus does. Its tail can hold multiple pink balls of the shameless Rhesus macaque and throw them to winds. The forever law-breaking Rhesus is terribly scared of the stoic grandpa of the simian world. He usually holds them by their tails, tosses them around and gives hard slaps by holding their ears. Vow, ahha, what a sight! Mere visualization gives me multi-orgasmic pleasure. I would abandon most of the luxuries of life to re-experience the scene. A cowardly Rhesus isn’t as afraid of a AK-47-wielding funny human as it is of the saber-rattling grimace of a Langoor.

So our kind, old Major arrived on the scene. Well, he didn’t arrive as Major. He arrived on the scene as a nameless Langoor as the sturdy fun-loving farmer got it more out of fun and less to alleviate the women’s woes in the village. Had it been about the alleviation of female miseries in the patriarchal society, most of the men would have been summarily executed long before the red-balled rascals.

So the stoic grandpa on the scene, and LO there was a panicked stampede among the cowardly Rhesus horde. They ran helter skelter. The little battles were no match for the majestic Langoor. He won the battle. One enthusiastic uncle, who had the glory of winning the war for India against Pakistan in Kargil found real camaderie with the Langoor. Uncle had fired one solitary shot in the famed war. Well, it was shot in the air in celebration, far down inside the Indian territory as the advanced platoons pushed back Pakis at a great cost to their own lives. But then Uncle’s shot in the air must have scared a few Devatas of ours hovering midair to congratulate on our victory. Uncle was proudly rewarded with the honorary title of a Major on his retirement. Now the proud soldier thought it suitable to put up the strips of valor on our Langoor friend also. So the Langoor became Major. People just loved to call him Major.

Victory brings laurels and rewards also. The farmer’s sun passed his evening in the spacious barn. Now, something about the Jat boys, the majestically proud farming clan who keep their ego always on Mount Everest. As they get heaved by the hormonal storms of youth, they do wrestling, drink pitchers of milk, eat mounds of butter, loaf around with all the air stuck up in the chest, eve-tease girls, think of sex 24x7, drink liqueur, play cards, smoke hukka and spend the still left out surplus energy in lewd funniest talk.

So the young peasant and his cronies were no different. They created ruckus late into the night in the barn as a sullen Major, tethered by a rope to the charpoy, would watch sullenly, his sleep disturbed, the proud medallions of his bravery not sufficient to tame the rampantly straying energies of the farmer youths. On one occasion, in the diluted spirits of mischief and forgetfulness, one rascal found sympathy on the face of a sleepy Major. ‘Major also wants to drink!’ he proclaimed. They cackled with consent. The best thought of their lives possibly!

A peg was made for the brave Major. Like a soldier has a right to drink anywhere in the world, our brave Major also availed the facility. One of them took a heavy Patiala peg in a glass. Major simply took it as matter of factly. Was it in irritation, or had he been waiting all along for this, I don’t know. He simply gulped it down in one terrible swig, shook his head vigorously, gave a few rounds of sneeze and threw the glass onto the ground breaking it. They didn’t mind the glass at all because they had an addition to the drinking party. They just hugged him like they hadn’t hugged anyone in their lives.

Next day, a solution was hatched as even in their free spirits they couldn’t afford to lose a glass every day. A steel glass was reserved for our retired Major. He would of course gulp the nectar in one big swig, shake his head profusely, sneeze and throw the glass on impulse. The metal glass would just give a musical background to their hideous rounds of laughter. So our Major, having won the battle for us, wining the medal of bravery and rationed with whisky spent his evenings in the barn. What a retirement! Peace be on his soul!

How I wish we had our kind old Major even now! This intimidating rascal would have turned a sissy monkey and gone running out with its funny shack of a tail stuck to its red balls!

PS: The curfew man has already misused his powers by throwing around the bricks. Well, he has a right. We are on the backfoot, eh!