Pissable Parliament

This is the longest night! Our conscience frozen into an inhuman hibernation! In the frigid gloom, the devils shed bloods on the white snowy sheet of our social fabric. A painful cry echoes through the land of lifeless corpses! It pulls the dead bodies out of their quilted, warm graves and they swarm around the tombstone of the higher mortals’ graves, crying and shouting to awake them out of their perennial, impotent sleep!

Cold-smitten dates of the third week of December raise some hopes! Anna Movement, Kejriwal Movement, Ramdev Movement, all had a leader fighting for a common cause. The people gathered on Rajpath to march towards Rashtrapati Bhavan and Parliament House to shout at their indifferent red stone walls are not doing it for glory. They are driven by a mammoth shame; a collective feeling of guilt; they need an outlet to shed their share in the tragedy. These young boys and girls are no followers of some social-cause-conscious individual. Each and every individual braving cold water and police batons is a leader to himself/herself! It is not for media; it is not for a long plan of action for a dream future; it is no systematized stage show! It is simple; it is from heart; it is fought with a faceless, selfless bravery! These are bleeding hearts; carrying over the plight and pain of the girl fighting for life in hospital.Thousands shout her plight; thousands cry for justice. Caught in the jaws of death; her life torn apart by the very hands that could well have been solacing and brotherly, if the devil inside the perpetrators would have been aware of the word ‘sister’—she now has a reason to get a forgiving smile for these thousands of brothers and sisters crying for justice from her side.  

Thousands of young people throng the area around the citadel of power. Each and every member is a pioneer, a leader! It is a movement started by the leaders. Busy in petty house-hold chores, and guiltily watching it on TV, even in my most Hind-movie-driven heroic fancy, I could not visualize myself more than pissing on Parliament after somehow managing to sneak through the barricade. The beholder of such impotent law that allows such criminal acts against women, and that too one after another, in just its near vicinity does not deserve better treatment.

Forget about law, justice and government. People are foremost. A cause has to first jolt the courts in their hearts. We are responsible for this nasty assault on humanity. We have allowed things to culminate in such an inhuman tragedy. Thousands of cases of molestation in varying degrees pass on a daily basis as routine things. People allow them to occur; criminal apathy! This pandering of the smaller evils by the court of conscience in the thousands of spectators on the footbaths, crowded buses and metros and bazaars just leads to criminal loopholes at the administrative levels. First thing: If you are a good human being and theoretically shout ‘Capital Punishment to the rapists!’, you have to get eligibility to shout this slogan by at least taking a vow to interfere when some petty male molests a girl or women in any form or degree before your eyes. If the courts of humanity inside us will not allow thousands of such indecent things on a daily basis, the higher courts and administration will also not spare the evil-doers at bigger chronic stages.

We are the law! We hold the court inside our civilized hearts. Leave the bigger crime acts to judiciary. We, as the carriers of that tiny court of humanity inside us, can well afford to dispense justice from our own ends in street-side regular cases of violations of norms against women, by promptly condemning the criminal for the deed, to be followed by a few hard slaps to serve the cause of justice. The case has to be closed then and there and spare the over-burdened judiciary to continue settling thousands of self-evident ghastly crime acts that are pending for decades.

The latest incidence is not in abstract. It has come to hit the last nail in the coffin of women plight in Delhi to seal its fate to suffer and survive in fear and insecurity even in broad day light. Hundreds of such cases and incidences have been tonking at the courts of our conscience and the thick walls of governance for decades. It has been caused by a bigger criminal act by all: individuals, society, government, police and judiciary. Delhi is being run by an experienced old lady for a decade and half. If the intensity of crime against women is getting sharper teeth to tear the moral fabric to pieces, then shame should be painted on Her face if ever her inner voice gives her some credit for being a successful administrator! India is being handled in proxy by another lady for a decade. It is high time that she feels finally like a woman and not like a mechanically principled Nehru family princess thinking 365x24x7 just about retaining the political clout of the family to ultimately install Yuvraj as the King of India.

This country is not short of those bookish theologians who will drag you into the psychology of crime to prove the ineffectivity of capital punishment. To be hell with such idiots and put their analytical brains in boiling oil and feed to the rapists in jails who fatten themselves on our public money. Capital punishment serves its purpose. Hang these six bastards and then see the crime graph in Delhi.

There are undercurrents of good and bad in almost all human beings. We came out of the caves to civilize ourselves by taming the beast by putting up chains of deterrence in various forms: social conventions, ethics, family relationships, beliefs and lawful punishment. When they started wagging tongues against capital punishment, it was under the blind belief that we have become civilized sufficiently to self-contain the bad in us to a degree that would not allow us to get into heinous manifestations of crime. But dears, these fundas fail miserably in the devils still lurking around in stinking corridors of sub-human existence interspersed with the cleaner faces of our society. Socio-economic development in these grey areas is a generational shift and the theoreticians can dump their capital and jobs and work in these slums to change their surroundings and material possessions and then later on clean the shit of their brains. We but in the cleaner by lanes of society want safety for our law-abiding generation by having this feeling that there is capital punishment against the crime that is tormenting the body and souls of almost all the women and girls in Delhi.

Hang them please!

The Dragon will eat dust in WWIII

In a hostel I stayed in Delhi for my civil services preparations, I came to be called as a bada bhai by many IIT and engineering aspirants preparing for their entrance exams. All of them were normal boys having pleasant mix of vulnerabilities and directionless strengths as conditioned by their teen years. But one chap stood out as Godzilla. It was not just on account of his size, for there were definitely some others who may also have been christened similarly is only size could have been the only criteria. What made him the common enemy was his arrogance and his effort to portray himself as the exceptionally powerful for the ordinary bunch of schoolboys around. Their was a strange swagger in his walk that cried, ‘Its between you and me!’ So guys it became an issue between one versus many. Confrontation was inevitable. One night many smaller ones pounced upon the hated Godzilla. War cry was: ‘Maro saale Godzilla ko!’ It resulted in—as it always happens in a conflict between one versus many (or few versus many) — a terrible defeat and consequent loss of face for the giant.

Guys, moral of the story is clear: Thousands of nice acts of civility and good behavior may not fetch you even a single genuine friend, but an act of arrogance and aggression is definitely bound to fetch you many enemies. There have been WWI and WWII. The trigger point was the power going astray in some aggressive form of nationalism that puffed out belligerent winds in four directions. Aggression wins you very selected friends. So in both world wars, the so called axis powers had lesser parties to their boasting kitty and the so called allied powers were able to muster up the support of many nations across the world. Whatever may be the amount of bloodbath, the result inevitably has to be in favor of the allied powers, like it happened in both world wars. The fireball escaping its burning guts is ultimately bound to douse the genie. Moreover, the leadership of the allied powers earns the right to take world leadership.

China is going much on the pattern of axis powers presently. Its inflated sense of chronic nationalism has made it blind to the bitter facts of the previous world wars. The way dragon is hissing fire around it has all the potential to trigger a third world war. But believe me, Chinese missiles and bullets might taste enemy blood in all the nooks and corners of this world, but its defeat is inevitable and ordained by the laws that governed the first two world wars. What Hitler let out through his individual manic personality, the Chinese leadership is doing it collectively. Result: They have all enemies in its neighborhood and across the world. In South Asian context, only a failed state can be counted as its real ally. If by dumping cheap exports in poor African countries, Chinese leadership has come to believe that it has dozens of allies, then it’s a gross miscalculation of strategic facts. By crossing all the limits of diplomatic niceties vis-à-vis India through claiming vast Indian territories as its own, it has taken its art of statecraft 70 year back to the Nazi era. By stepping on the toes of smaller nations around South China Sea, it has created a sort of one versus many situation. If there is a WWIII, believe me Chinese fate cannot under any circumstances be better than the belligerent axis powers.

In cooperation with America, India can play a great role in this coalition of forces against the arrogant and blinded-by-power Godzilla and beat it like those smaller boys beat the bully who ran down the stairs utterly terrified and may be even pissed in its pants. Every Chinese act of belligerence driven by madly chronic, expansive nationalism is going to earn it more and more enemies. USA beat Russia in Cold War because there was NATO. It never trumpeted its status as the sole decider of world’s destiny, even though it could have done so. It always kept many allies to its side, even though they played a marginal part in its campaigns. So China carry on with your enemy-making juggernaut, we Indians will meanwhile cooperate with Americans and your ever-longer list of enemies to beat the Micky out of you in the possible WWIII.

Was Indo-China 1962 Confrontation In Fact a War?

We lost the war to China in 1962. Was it worthy of being analyzed as a war? And put up such Himalayan psychological, defeatist dab on our young and exultant sense of nationalism? ‘War’ is unjustifiably too big an expression for these basically poorly planned skirmishes in the barren Himalayan terrain, where hardcore war strategies and ironclad nationalism melted into the anonymous mists of those far-fetched undefined territories. We had no plan at all, except the vague idea about our boundary lines. They had a stronger idea about what they thought belonged to them. It was merely a school-boyish mad rush into uninhabited wilderness to find some larger meanings which no side had a definite idea about. So the anecdotes are full of chance skirmishes, futile bravados and disproportionate hoopla about the proportions of battle engagements.

As a newly independent country, we accepted the word 'war' to qualify on the scale of capability to defend the new-found sovereignty and territories. This mere acceptance of the expression 'war' for those rudimentary childish pursuits in the wild snowy trails has done us more psychological and historical harm than the real casualties on the battle field. The stage was too hazy and distant. In the wide nook and corners of India, we grew up with this massive war defeat scar that was in fact in terrible disproportion to the scale of real operations. Admitted, China rushed in to grab a considerable proportion of the territories in Aksai Chin where our claim of ownership was just stamped by symbolic patrols and traditional belief. But losing a chunk of land over which we never had the time and capability to fully stamp our ownership, does no justice to the fact of accepting some free runs in barren lands as a humiliating defeat in a full-scale war. We just lost a few not so pitched battles, that’s all! We ourselves get hyper about the word 'war' to somehow exaggerate the scale of military operations (we as the defendants of our territories and Chinese as the greedy grabbers) to legalize our victimhood and their crime act. And for this we just accept the insulting defeat in a bloody war.

Fifty years on, what is the ground position in the actually held territories? We have all the reasons to smile and give ourselves a pat on the back and bury that scar, even if it means with a cosmetic sense of belated belief. The strength of any military unit is directly proportional to its real-life practice in the field. In mountain warfare we far outdo China. Thanks to Messers Pakistan and Co. we have been busy in mountain warfare for more than six decades. When you are fighting against the invisible enemy and try to keep your humanitarian records clean as well, it really gives you the bloodiest war drills. It has been going on against insurgencies at both the Eastern and Western fronts in the toughest Himalayan terrains. It has been at tremendous costs at the man and material fronts. But believe me it has put our forces through such fiery experiences that it can be really counted as one of the most battle-worthy in mountainous regions. Chinese military bragging meanwhile has been limited to nationalist gung-ho, hoopla and technological innovations. But there is a great difference between getting starry eyed over a new warfare gadget and getting into the real mess of a bloody situation where you have to kill the hidden enemy, spare you people and keep the thing of law in your mind in the snowy heights. We are a far superior military force, on account of our constant real-life drills, in the terrain that are in dispute with China.

Indian Navy still scores over China. It is not about having the biggest dagger in the world. What matters is that your dagger should be just long enough to reach the enemy’s heart and you should have, first, the intention, and second, the strength to push it that deep. I mean the nukes! Equipped with this deterrence, we are logically capable of engaging Chinese in--both limited and not-so-limited--conventional mountain warfare. We have invested so much of money into air warfare equipments, at the cost of depriving millions of people of basic amenities of life. However, it at the minimum gives us all the reasons to practically maintain our supply chains in the toughest terrain. So Indians forget about a few skirmishes lost to China in 1962 and be optimistic about future.  

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!'