Calculate your equation of farting and planting trees

Every time you offend the modesty of the air around your ass, stealthily (as majority of us do) or unabashedly (like some of us do), both deriving sadistic pleasure in their silent and violent ways respectively, run to the nearest tree and hug it for it is a mute, uncomplaining spectator, a sort of sufferer but still diligently doing its duty of a purifier of our misdeeds. Right from our apparently innocuous farts to the Himalayan gas emissions by the airplane darts, we leave a trail of exhausts that leaves Mother Nature stunned. So don’t expect that It won’t grimace with irritation. Farting should remind you of your well esteemed primary status of being a pollutant. So hug the tree and say sorry. It may still be scared of you as you hug it, fearing a still more grotesque version of your blast, the blast of your ego and greed that manifests so often in mass slaying of trees. CHOP CHOP CHOP! So my dear little pollutant, plant more trees. One tree per fart will be asking for too much because you have to accomplish planet-taming endeavors also and still have to tame other planets in the solar system. But I think, one tree for 100 farts will absolve you of your crimes. You will carry better conscience also, I tell you. So fart more, dart more, but take the message of planting tree to every door!

A note of thanks to PM Modi

When you put money, and the rest of its resultant materialistic derivatives, above everything and anything else, and make it the axis of human existence, like Western countries have done since centuries, you get big economic statistics to give you a false sense of security. But does it bring joy, peace and harmony in its wake? It hardly does as you can surmise from the exponential growth of human sufferings alongside the economic growth. The irony is, monetary figures are mind creations, and are hardly effective in fighting against the consequences of the overblown money-making process. They create a smoke-screen of development and progress, turning us blind to the real plights. The causes stand hidden in the natural, biological cauldron. To succeed against the same, you have to prioritize human life over economy because humans make money not vice versa. So while Trump finds economic depression worse than the prospects of mass deaths due to Corona and hence is still spending much of his energies in creating economic solutions, PM Modi has humanistically abandoned all talks of moneymaking at this juncture. The unprecedented lockdown of the country is a proof of the eastern humanist values of putting human lives above money. This pause will make India a world leader, a shining example of being a progressive, kind and considerate society. We are a massive society. The challenge is unprecedented. But when your leader abandons all secondary priorities and spends sleepless nights to save lives, in plain and simple terms without any political and economic compulsions, the success is inevitable. Salutes PM Modi! This economically unthinkable—at least in Western terms—step of putting up a pause will reinvigorate India and make it healthy to an extent that the rest of the world will look towards it for inspiration in future. Thank you PM so much! It's an honor to have voted for you! It feels like my vote carries a value worth millions of dollars!

Holy Fire

I am the moth

and I love my flame!

My fire!

But I feel the burning core of

the glow around which

I helplessly circle around!

I know that I cannot stop

the fire from burning,

So I throw myself in a fiery pit

to forget my dear flame's burning plight!

I throw myself in a bigger fire

so that I forget myself

and my flame's cries!

Listen O Thou Majestic Homosapiens

    

So the nanometer master Corona brings the Hercules to knees. Don't panic. We have performed miserably. So Mother Nature is just holding us by the ears. Oh, we the errant kids! All we need is a civilizational pause, a collective hiatus. And think and reshape our priorities. Align them along the fundamental laws of nature. Apart from a few thousand unfortunate deaths of humans, Mother Nature is a bit mollified as carbon emissions have come down a bit due to the forced suspension of our mad rush. Now let's go a bit slowly and make pause a choice.

Corona virus isn't just a disease; it's a message from Mother Nature, a bit stern though because we have turned deaf to her warnings. Holy Mother has been giving messages: Amazon forest fires, Australian bushfires, floods, polar ice melts, etc, etc. But modern society hardly cares about such message, which don't seem to affect it directly. So here SHE goes now and shoots down a poignant, straightforward message that hits us directly. No if and but about it. 'Listen little fools listen!' she whispers like an offended mother. HER invisible soldiers can puncture our egos. 'Now mend your ways little kids!' SHE says. 'Or be prepared for the WORST in future. All your so called inventions, discoveries, researches will turn out to be futile efforts at finding solutions to your self-created problems. And solutions to self-created problems will create further problems only! And this little drama on the stage called human civilization may come to an end FAR-FAR SOONER than anyone of you may ever think or imagine!'

Ye karo, vo karo, karo, karo, karo na, karo, karo na, karonaaa, Corona....itna kiya ki ab maro na, maro na! Chacha Corona should be rechristened Na Coro, mat karo, ye na koro, vo na koro, Naaaa Coro....NaCoro...bongs seem to have something to do with it. I think some Bengali researcher will crack the solution. 'O babu moshai, koro na, ya na koro, maachh khabo, dwai Lebo!'

Let us spare a few moments for the Chinese. I like their entrepreneurial practicality. However, it turns counter-productive after a point. Good that you take it as a weakness to have faith and be a believer. But doesn’t it dehumanize society collectively? The check-dams to our human rascality break and we get a flesh and blood robot who never listens to the soft voice of conscience, where everything is acceptable in the name of material progression, power, profits and global superpower status.

Animals are hellishly tortured, burnt and boiled alive in Chinese live animal food markets. If someone wants to have a glimpse of what hell may look like, I would recommend Chinese animal food markets. There are thousands there. It’s a mammoth pooling of negative karma operated like enormous factory where the raw material is slaughter, boiling alive, suffering and pain of a vast number of animal species. Of course, there will be negative off shoots as we witness it presently.    

There are costs to be paid as an omnivorous carnivore society like the Chinese. Not judgmental about them. They have every right to eat anything, including themselves. But then one can't rule out scenarios like Corona virus. There are a huge number of human-hazardous viruses hosted by animal and bird species. In this case, bats are the hosts for this virus. The poor bat was gobbled by the snake who in turn found himself on the enthusiastic dining table of a Chinese and lo, the world gets an epidemic. At Wuhan market, you have truckloads of dogs, live foxes, crocodiles, wolf puppies, giant salamanders, snakes, rats, peacocks, porcupines, camel meat and you name anything possible under the sun to douse human gluttony. Eat man eat, I know you love boiling live beings and take burps of world supremacy! But why spread the evil effects of your gluttony world over! As an epidemic-scared globalist, I am as scared of the hunger rumblings in a Chinese stomach as a dog is while being ferried to the dog market. Because God, or maybe even dog, knows, what new species may end up on the table of the Chinese culinary experiment, unleashing some new virus in the food chain. Given their overblown aspirations to rule the world by cramming Chinese nationals all over the globe, the strain travels faster than their supernukes. As a poor vegetarian Indian, I am more scared of the viral-nukes launched from their dinner tables than the globe-destroying weaponry. God, errr dogs, save us! I am getting more and more scared. I think, the human race will be destroyed, not by nukes and supernukes as you may suppose, but by some hitherto unheard of culinary experiment in some Chinese kitchen where some animal, reptile or bird might be boiled and cooked for the first time in their entire millions of years of history, introducing a viral strain that will eat the entire globe-load of Homo-sapiens. Oh God, see, o dogs rather! To make it still worse, if I fall in the Chinese hands, the kindest of them would still be happy to roast me alive and bring about another culinary experiment!

Like they do to conscious beings, rest of us in the non-Chinese part of the world, aren’t less culpable. We do the same to natural resources. We slaughter acres after acres of pristine forests. We destroy river ecosystems through dams. We rape mother earth through unsustainable mining and quarrying. We spoil coastlines, pillage hill slopes, pollute air and water bodies. Trees at their prime lay butchered. Their corpses tell their murder stories: “I stood for decades by the path giving shade, shelter and pure air. Then the path changed colors. Its sands turned into tar. And I became a roadblock and done away with smoothly. Best of luck Homo sapiens!’

So who will have the last laugh? The climate shocks have been unprecedented. Horrific! Cold has slaughtered soot and saplings with its unsparing frosty sword. Heat almost boils. An angry Mother is forced to cry with pain. It turns out to be wrath poured out with tears in eyes and a bloodied heart. Mother ignored and abused like garden cactus still has a few flowers to help us smile again. Irrespective of the severe damage, it decides to retain its smile. Its smile overcomes the frosty burns. With tears in eyes, aching heart and a forgiving smile on lips it says: ‘Happiness is a choice. A conscious effort, independent of so many external factors that you presume to be finally decisive for our happiness! Stop the mad rush. The joy comes from within.’

Beyond the storm in the cup of we Homosapiens, from astronomical distances, Father Sun dies to reborn again. ‘Death is the beginning of birth. Birth is the beginning of death. In fact, there is no death or birth. All we have is simply an ever-evolving transformation, simply a process! Live and let live sons and daughters, learn to live in harmony. To me a grain of sand, a tree, an insect, an animal, bird or you, all are the same. Never forget this brotherliness. Otherwise you perish and turn to sands. Everything!’ Got some sense out of His message? If not, kindly read it a few time more!

As you suffer and suffocate in the jail like homes due to the lock downs, please don’t curse Mother Nature for the fall outs! Mother Nature’s razor sharp talons, piercing beak, and predatory eyes are just an illusion. At the core lies the baby soft, melodious hymn of love. Salutes O Mother! Once the storms are over, the motherly ray will come down to kiss and heal! But for that you have to show repentance, accept your faults and promise to mend your ways. Don’t forget, one tear in your eyes gives her thousands in her heart. To make you laugh again, she has her own mollycoddling ways. A superb full-moon night waits around the corner for a milky delight! So just see through the self-created smoggy night, where the sun has been hidden and airs have been suffocated to death in gas chambers. The rainstorm may appear unsparing and unrelenting. Still lots of smiles left! We have to believe.

Go and touch a nearby tree with the faith of a true friend and close your eyes, standing under His majestic, protective canopy. He responds! Feels your pain! He transfers His energy to heal your wounded soul. He will be helping you in getting back your faith in life and living. He is your sincerest friend. The tree somewhere! Go and embrace Him! Reconcile. He will definitely reciprocate. Probably He looks forward to your visit to His house. Say thanks to buddy! You never know at what level of reality He is existing. A saintly King I tell you. Listen as you put your ears to His so called wooden heart: “I am basking in my sovereignty! I am the King of the world not visible to the human eyes! I am crowned with celestial lights!” You will hear it clearly. Just open up your soul. The miseries will melt away.

A mother is a mother is a mother. It's her selfless love that is driving the force through the rescuer's hands! You are bound to survive because a mother has to be forgiving. She is simply reprimanding you for the evils you have spread around. With lovely, kissable traces of sadness, the day which appears to close its eyes here will surely open them with a child's verve and happiness somewhere else! It’s not all over yet. All that we need is that we have to realign our priorotoes.

There is always hope,

As long as nature holds the rope

through its smile pure,

Survive we will for sure!

Pause is the remedy. Otherwise, be ready for a bit more stern messages. She has to shriek a bit louder to make our deaf ears hear Her plight. God forbid it may turn out to be a catastrophe as bad as WW 3! The choice is entirely ours. We get what we sow.

On a tiny molehill of hope, I see the faintest tinkling of hope. Now when most of the human population over the planet is exactly following the kind of lifestyle which has been my routine life for years, I feel that I belong to this planet only, not some disgraced extraterrestrial species!

Home stay is a torture and imprisonment for those who have existed on the surface, identifying with the externalities; whose life has been just a mad rush after the mirages that pop up in the sandy desert of illusions. Cool down fellas, Mother Nature has given you guys an assignment to look within. It's a chance to rebrand yourself and become a better version. That's how this civilization will change. At least you get time to think. So don't yawn with killing boredom and look within O thou development champions!

Of course there will be a remedy for Errant Chacha Corona! No doubt. But it will be a bandage for symptoms only. The roots of the tree of our sustenance and survival have been shaken. So all isolated efforts to find an antidote for Corona Chacha will be simply like disinfecting the pale leaves of a tree whose roots are being eaten by termites. So as your own house turns into a jail, kindly study the roots! It's an open book. Read it!

As mankind suffers in these Corona crazy times, Mother Nature appears to regain Her footing. Simple math: our interests and Her interests---because of our collective misdemeanor---stand antagonist, in terrible disproportion, to each other. A scary mathematics! Simply because we are a tiny subset of Her overall set. Possibly Mother Nature finds us like pathogens, just as we find Corona for our system. Solution: Ours and nature's existence should be proportional and in harmony!

Gone into self isolation! Well, take it as an apprenticeship into the art of prisoners. There is a huge backlog of our collective sins. So we have to serve prison terms in various ways. So hone the art of a diligent, obedient prisoner. All situations have positive outcomes also. Take away yours during these moments of being alone and isolated. Read your life and reflect over the path. You will realize your little part in the evil drama Homosapiens have been playing for a few thousand years. Rectify your part and you stand absolved from your side.

Corona ka Karnama is written in scary script. The most dreaded criminals, tucked in the highest security and the most isolated cells, are the safest among the Homosapiens as of now. Meanwhile, birds are singing more chirpily. Animals roam more freely. Trees smell fresher air as pollution plummets down. When the rest of all are feeling better, how come we are suffering most miserably!? Mathematically, it means we are the source of miseries to each and everything falling in the category of non-Homosapiens.

If mother nature had a language like ours, or we had the ears and mind to hear and understand what she has to convey, we would come to know that we have turned out to be nothing sort of Corona virus to Her. And what do we do to fight Corona? We launch a full scale war to counter the bug's onslaught through isolation, sanitization, debugging, antibiotics, etc, etc. Isn't She also doing the same against someone who is Corona-type lethal to Her? Mind you, Her tools to save Herself are floods, earthquakes, Tsunamis, epidemics, drought, forest fires, etc. It's high time we raise a white flag of peace and call ceasefire and get onto the negotiating table, for endless are Her resources in this fight. We hardly stand any chance.

When humans kill their fellow human beings---we need not repeat the multi million murders in the name of religion, caste, creed, nationality, ethnicity and rest of all our mind-contrived ways and means to slaughter each other---there is hardly anything scary about it. It passes off as passable act of routine violence. But when humans die at the hands of other agents, they panic too much. When millions get slaughtered in the name of religion, there is hardly any world scale scare. But when a little one wants to propagate its species, we get scared to the guts.

Get some sense O thou majestic owner of this tiny planet, Homosapiens. Mother Nature has given you this heavenly blissful planet. Accept your role in the things going awry! Rectify your errors. Still there is a chance! Grab it before it’s too late!

From Cobra to Corona: The scale of Homosapien fears

As scared to the guts Homosapiens scamper and slither into holes for safety, the still remaining species come out of their hiding places and take a view of the empty stage. The skies are relieved in the absence of the massive metallic birds, who no longer shout in to its face and puff out million tons of horrible farts in its nostrils. No wonder, the skies are bluer. Mother Nature appears to have regained its smile.

The Bigger pathogens are busy in fighting a smaller pathogen as of now. On the empty stage, on the premises of a gated colony in a city, a Cobra comes out to take a stock of the abnormality, the eerie silence. ‘What fresh mischief the two-legged ones are cooking up from their houses now?’ it must be mulling in its little brain inside the attractive hood.

The stage is less crowded. So its revulsion of Homosapiens is diluted a bit. In front of an unoccupied ground floor flat, it flashes its majestic black body as a veteran soldier from Mother Nature’s army who has occupied an abandoned post and claimed independence from subjugation and slavery. Its hood is raised with peaceful alertness. In routine times, a Cobra in the open in a human colony gets swiftly condemned as the worst possible enemy and you straightaway hear shouts of ‘Maro Maro Saanp aaya, kill, kill, kill the snake’. But now Corona is the biggest enemy. So there are no such impromptu shouts. Cobra is a lesser evil in comparison to Corona, the Mahishashur out there to wipe out the entire humanity. I think many eyes must have even fetched tears of devotion for Lord Shiva’s fabulous necklace. Some extra devotional type may even offer a logic: ‘Corona dies the death of a stray dog where a Cobra breathes!”

Not too many have the courage and even the will power to come out and attack with their routine childish vengeance to kill a snake. Possibly we try to kill our own fears by attacking a snake. But now the fear is far bigger than symbolized by an almost innocuous Cobra. The shapeless reptile Corona, stretching its obnoxious slithery invisible body across the planet stands for our fear for life as of now. So no Maro Maro war chorus. A bit more than average responsible fellow calls the snake catchers. ‘Sorry boss, we can’t come! Lockdown! Policewalla’s stick is more dangerous than the Cobra’s hood’. So they back out.

Someone believing the police to be the ultimate remedy calls the them. Two Corona-scared policemen, their faces hidden under the mask, arrive with their sticks. Guns have become irrelevant by the way against Corona, the rascally criminal. Even a stick stands better chance in the fight. Its tip may squash a few Corona idiots waiting to feast upon someone’s lung cells. The policemen strike their sticks on the ground from a distance. With an irritated hiss, the Cobra gets back into the unoccupied flat. People prompt the policemen to be the saviors as they are expected. ‘We aren’t snake catchers!’ they reprimand. ‘But you are supposed to protest us!’ the believer in policing powers offers his point very politely. ‘Presently we have to protect you from Corona by forcing you guys to stay holed up inside your houses,’ they recall the pressing issue. Everyone looks expectantly at the heroes to salvage the day from the side of Homosapiens. ‘Take out chilies from your houses and throw inside this flat from the windows!’ they tell the solution and scamper off to fight the bigger Corona battle.

Left to devise their own solutions, the people shout their snake manuals from their windows and balconies. A spiritual type says, ‘Mix some milk in water and throw inside!’ The idea is immediately taken up. Nobody seems to argue and opine unnecessary. All appear to conserve their energy to fight the bigger enemy. So the solution is carried out. By chance, mischance or for any other reason, the Cobra comes out again to take a stock of the empty stage. And they applaud at the victory from their locked down houses. It scares the Cobra and angrily it slithers into drain pipes linking the sewer to cozy pots where Homosapiens vent out their exhausts after their planet-conquering efforts.

‘It’s even worse!’ a panic-monger immediately hoots out his apocalypse scenario. ‘It has the power to slither across the pipes and bite you on the chuttar, bum, as you are busy disburdening yourself on the pot!’ The horror of Corona appears to take a backseat. All appear to envision the injection pinch on their bums offered as a sort of punishment for all the negative karmas of life. Well, we need to be pinched definitely on our ass for our errant ways. But then in that case even the Cobra can’t escape the effects of someone’s dirty morning deed of the day. To kiss the ass, it has to first cross the final hurdle set up by the Homosapiens in the form of pot’s contents floating like a safety layer to save its ex-master!