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Hi, this is somebody who has taken the quieter by-lane to be happy. The hustle and bustle of the big, booming main street was too intimidating. Passing through the quieter by-lane I intend to reach a solitary path, laid out just for me, to reach my destiny, to be happy primarily, and enjoy the fruits of being happy. (www.sandeepdahiya.com)

Monday, August 7, 2023

Slow ways of rapidly killing time

 

Those were the easy-going slow-paced days. Elegant and alluring with their nostalgic strains, still affable with their withering charm, those moments behold the enduring symbolism of goodness that shone always brighter in the past. Bathing on the well-curbs was a particularly socializing act during those times. Beyond the modern-day clanking and urging sounds, there was silence and power in those laidback moments. Time moved with a very slow, holistic elegance. It wasn’t slipping away. It was in fact so plentiful that one could kill it to one’s satiation. And if the bucket fell into the well, it would offer a still bigger opportunity to slaughter time en masse. A hook would be lowered at the end of a rope and many faces would calmly stare into the muddled water as the harpoon was dragged around the invisible muddy bottom. There would be just a few phrases of success in the incomprehensible paperwork of the entire set of probabilities. The rope would change many hands and it would continue for hours. A basket retrieved after dredging by many hands amounted to a very successful day in the life of all those involved including the onlookers.

The pandemic of hate

 If you breed hate and anger, among larger groups through narratives or build a cult of hate centred around a few leaders and ideological posturing, the result would be social conflicts. The Britishers groomed communal hate among Hindus and Muslims by pampering the vanity of their respective leaders. The partition-time mayhem followed. Two million people got killed and millions were uprooted from their birth soil. The deep state in Pakistan nurtured a cult of hate for India and see where Pakistan stands today, its society ruptured by violence, conflicts and poverty. There are so many other examples of hate that turned entire nations into rogue states. Entire nations have failed just because their societies buckled under the bug of hate. On the other hand, cities have acquired the status of big nations--Dubai and Singapore, for example. Do you believe Dubai and Singapore would be what they are if the rulers allow this type of virus of hate in their social innards? 

There are so many other examples such as Punjab and Srilanka where facilitating with dangerous elements proved so disastrous for the Congress leadership. And now Manipur and Gurgaon. And many episodes in between including Sikh riots of 1984 and then Gujarat. Spreading hate in the society is the hashish of politics. It gives instant high of political power. But it wrecks the system. The body realises a few years down the line how much cost it has to pay now for those momentary highs. The same with building social hate to kick-start social conflicts. It gives instant highs of power and perks. But the society feels the damage it has caused to the social anatomy with the passage of time. So as the agents of hate spin narratives to stroke the fires of division and conflicts in society, just like the Britishers did before independence, the brown rulers in the same seat do exactly the same by holding the nation-making wand of nationalism, beholding the pride of religion, racial excellence and what not. It's just the same. The only consolation is that we can try to convince ourselves that at least our very own people are doing it. In practice, freedom is the ability to do what others had been doing earlier. Right or wrong isn't part of the picture.

Friday, August 4, 2023

Anything for the country

 And finally I see a nationalist-brand rastrabhakt sacrificing for the cause of the nation. Communal violence has hit Gurgaon and the surrounding areas. Migrant workers from the minority community, poor people who work in households, restaurants, construction sites and factories, have run away to save their lives. The rastrabhakt was vocal in shouting and flying saffron flag to protect the country in a procession in the safety of police protection. But he loves mutton more than anything else on earth, be it wine, woman, country or the entire humanity. But now the mutton sellers are gone. He misses mutton. 'But anything for the nation's cause,' he helplessly says, with a faraway look as if trying to imagine a rotund Muslim skinning a fat bakra and rows of choicest raw mutton hanging from hooks. Well, who says, the paper patriots don't sacrifice for the country? They do, I bear witness to it.

GREATNESS IN PRACTICE

 


The honorable Chief Justice of India with his wife and adopted daughters.  These are the real heroes of India. The Honorable Chief Justice of India is like a lotus smiling in muddy waters. He is known for the honesty and integrity becoming of the beholder of the Supreme Seat of Justice in India. People like him are the true bullworks of democracy and humanity. As we pay salutes to him let's forget about the traders of hate who serve opium of darkness and illusions to blindfold the masses and then rule over them. 

Two daughters Mahi and Priyanka want to visit their father's place of work. To fulfill the wishes of his daughters, the loving father takes them to his place of work, the Supreme Court of India. The two daughters visit their father's workplace and are overwhelmed with joy. Their happiness is boundless today. One can see the glint of pride in their eyes for being the daughters of such a great couple, a combination of power and compassion. Father is the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court - Hon'ble D Y Chandrachur. Mother is Mrs. Kalpana Chandrachur. And two beautiful smiling angels under their parents' care and love. The picture is taken at the Supreme Court complex. 'GREATNESS IN PRACTICE, NOT IN THEORY'.


Thursday, August 3, 2023

The small world of a little boy

 

It’s a reality show showcasing the taut narration of skills and talents by Godly gifted kids. With enough melody to create any lyricist’s euphoria, a five-year-old girl is singing with unbelievable maturity. Every look at little Nevaan makes it plain to him that the onlooker wants him to do something in the field of ‘talent’. ‘It’s because of the mike she holds that her voice sounds nice. The mike is very talented,’ he gives his expert opinion on talent.

The talent show eggs him to do something of his own. He is all attention needed for executing something to flawless perfection. It’s his sketch-work with chalk on a pillar: two human figures drawn in straight lines with an arrowed heart in between. And the elders would always comment about the kid’s fancy with broken heart. By the way, the millennials are steely in nerves. They break hearts instead of being broken hearted.

He smells the prejudice, the notions of morality, etc., in my comment and changes the scenario. ‘Both of them are boys,’ he clarifies.

Well, two boys with a broken heart between them?

‘The girl was a bad one. Both of them are crying,’ he comes to the rescue of his gender.

Well, the elders might be busy in bigger struggles, leaving him as a newly born fawn struggling to its feet. But he is not a mere unsteady kitten. He has a crisp penchant for exploring newer things in his slowly growing world. Carrying a crisp vision, he has spotted a jewel on the ground. The elders, like grubby kids, are dealing with the spoilsports of the bigger world. The little researcher loiters around with inquisitive eyes. His find is something else also apart from being a jewel. It’s a bug also, a jewel bug to be precise. I make him feel that it’s his find, so he is very happy over the discovery. We take his find’s picture and he goes around the house, showing the new species he has just discovered.

The frigid cold leaves one in need of the warmth of love and companionship more than ever. The lone jewel bug, also called metallic sheet bug, is almost frozen. They feed on plant juices. They even have the option of producing offensive odor when disturbed. The oval-shaped little shiny creature looks like a beetle, but it’s a bug to be precise.

It’s a brilliantly colored bug with iridescent metallic hues. Its green metallic sheen with black and red dots is surely sufficient to make Nevaan feel proud of his discovery for the benefit of the world. Its pleasantly exotic colors inspire me to Google it for more information. It comes to my knowledge that they have huge, spiky, heavily sclerotized genitalia. That makes its mating practice almost ‘traumatic insemination’. It seems a marquee masculine mischief against the divinely feminine—a kind of evolutionary sexual conflict. The male bug tears through the female reproductive duct to deposit sperms, causing severe damage to the female in the process. I think all the lurid sadists out there must have a strong evolutionary memory of the jewel bugs coursing through their veins.

Maybe inspired by his discovery of a new bug species, Nevaan is adding to his clanship. His surname is Deswal. So the cats are Yellow Cat Deswal, Black Cat Deswal and the likes. So are the dogs christened along the same lines.