Being (in)human

 Funny: For a (Sal)man who is ever ‘ready’ to bare his ‘body’ to drop his ‘guard’ for a tongue-loose remark that lets all hell break loose, shouldn’t we remind him it is ‘time-now’ for him to not just carry the slogan ‘Being Human’ but be actually that
Punny: For a (...)man who is spending every ‘buck’ to erase the ‘black-spot’, he badly needs a ‘kick’ to bring him back to some sens...e of sanity
F: People are tired of his ‘tired remark’ where he draws the analogy of a rape victim
P: He is used to ‘hit and run’. For the rich and mighty, it is just a game as they successfully forge a ‘partner’ship with the best of legal brains to make mockery of the legal system
F: But then, he is famous for his one-liners!
P: Precisely, he is a man of many words. His one-liners are laced with many words. Not interested in ‘one word’
F: You mean ‘economy of words’ contributing to our economy
P: Yes, look at the effect of one less word on environment
F: Every time you (don’t) say one less word, one less word gets printed which in turn leads to one less space consumed in print media which in turn...!
P: Environmentalists will cry – ‘Jai Ho’ – one less word
F: The FM will then reel out the cascading effects of the ‘economy-of-words’ on our economy when a (..)man chooses not to say a ‘word’, meaning thereby everyone needs to say a word less
P: Call it the ‘wordless economy’
Even as we ponder to wonder or wonder to ponder – whichever way you like it – we find ourselves dazed and confused. Whether we are argumentative Indians or reluctant Indians, intolerant Indians or tolerant Indians, a world-class economy or a wordless economy, the debate continues. One thing is for sure: we continue to be a bundle of contradictions and heaps of hypocrisy. Whether (...)man is (hu)man enough to admit that ‘one-word’, only time will tell. Time up, says time now. Common, (Sal)man, say the most ‘wanted’ word!

JE SUIS CHARLIE

IT’S THE ‘FOE’, STUPID! Freedom of expression can be your friend. And your FOE too as the recent Hebdo massacre revealed. Cartoonists draw admiration for their creative expression through wit, satire. From politicians to professionals, actors to authors, sportsmen to god men, cartoonists have spared none. While most took the lampooning in their stride, there have been instances where their wit and sarcasm went beyond the wisdom of certain section of the society, especially religious. The challenge for the cartoonists has always been to not cross the line of intolerance. Equally challenging was, who decides the tolerance quotient which is highly subjective.  The rage of terror on Charlie Hebdo received a flood of outrage in the form of protests, debates et al. While there is no doubt that the act of terror can never be justified, there is a fleeting evidence of discerning voices expressing doubts on whether the line of tolerance was crossed in this case. If the intellect can’t rein in the temptation to needle the ‘religious nerve’, knowing very well the high probability of triggering ‘sleeper cells’ to freely express their rage at what is supposedly a mere ‘laugh-it-off’ matter as the western culture would like to believe, who is to be blamed? The intellect whose thinking faculties are far superior? Or the terror masked by its perverted mindset and deep rooted hatred for western culture? Why touch ‘religious nerve’ at all? By no stretch of imagination should this be inferred as supporting terror act. If terror cannot be eliminated, contain it should be our priority. Given that the whole world is trying every which way to do so, how justifiable then is freedom of expression if it results in negating the very purpose?  

What is perfectly ‘laugh-it-off’ stuff in one part of the world has the potential of creating havoc in another part. Even as ‘FOE’ is the holy grail of democracy, it carries a caveat that it is used responsibly. Relying solely on the right to FOE unmindful of its consequences is an act as illogical as that of the terror act itself.  

Of what use is FOE if it does not promote harmony among people? The world is sick of such ‘sickening’ acts. It can certainly do with a bit of restraint on the part of fourth estate. Which draws us back to the question: Do you necessarily have to touch the ‘raw nerve’ which is universally known for its vulnerability? Some say that education is the key to progress. In which case, crimes should not happen in developed countries. Unfortunately, it is not so. Crimes of every description continue unabated in educated and less educated societies and in equal measure! It is shocking to see the ‘well educated’ commit crimes that defy logic. What sort of education is that if it fails to enable enlightenment in the recipient’s mind? 

It requires a deep psycho-analysis - social background, psychological mindset; economic inequalities. The much touted values of economic reforms, free market and its ‘trickle-down’ theory – it is barely trickling in every cruelest sense of the term – have managed to benefit the rich at a much faster rate while the poor are still languishing. 

It is the hatred and insatiable greed for success, fame, material wealth that blur the ability to reflect on the bigger picture. Otherwise, how else can you explain the acts of those wearing terror outfits and those wearing educated labels? Whose action deserves greater condemnation? The ones who provoked? Or those provoked? One in the name of FOE! The other in the name of hatred and intolerance. What then is the way out? 

There is no quick fix solution. The need is for a long, grinding process of evolution. Rediscover the self in a journey called ‘cultural (r)evolution’. It may take centuries. Until then, let us enjoy the pleasures of ‘freedom of expression, and endure the pains of ‘FOE’!

Freedom of expression is meant for creating an atmosphere of mutual trust, peace, goodwill and harmony among people irrespective of caste creed and religion. Create a friend and not FOE through freedom of expression. Because, otherwise, we the ‘intellect’ would be ‘missing the cake for the wrapper’ just as the terrorists did. 

Subramanian V/s Subramanian
Funny: Having drawn first blood in ‘Rexit’ (short for Raghuram Rajan’s exit), Subramanian Swamy appears bent on further ‘bloodbath’ by his ‘disciplined’ attack on Aravind Subramanian
Punny: Whether he will take the wind out of Aravind, only time will tell
F: He is proving to be a nightmare for BJP, giving Jaitley ‘A-run’ trying to figure out ways to stop him
P: Having ‘herald’ded his arrival to the ‘National’ scene, has the ruling party bitten more than it can chew?
F: ‘Associated’ with every ‘journal’, there is a streak of ‘devil’s advocate’ in SS
P: You mean a ‘law-unto-himself’?
F: In upping the ‘ante’ on eminent scholars on the basis their green card status, isn’t he indulging in ‘anti party’ activities?
P: Especially with a globe-trotting PM trying every trick to woo the NRIs
F: Perhaps SS is testing the ‘tolerance quotient’ of the ruling party
P: In which case, their ‘TQ’ is very high what with their kid-glove stance on the loose cannon
F: Would you then claim that ‘intolerant’ allegation was false?
In 2008, it was ‘sub-prime crises’. In 2016, we are witnessing ‘sub-swamy crises’. The sooner the ruling party realizes that SS is past his utility date, the better will it serve them Ensure ‘SSexit’ a la Rexit. Or Brexit!

Mumbai Terror

Even as we are coming to terms with the horror, some questions are likely to haunt us forever:
1. what are the recruitment procedures at these renowned hotels? were they followed at all?
2. obviously the credentials of these terrorists who managed to get the jobs at these hotels were not cross verified.
3. i still can't figure out how a few young people could get entry to these hotels walking. one would imagine that to get entry to these plush hotels, one would be expected to be either driven in a chauffeured vehicle or self-driven one. the fact that these young people were entering by foot itself should have raised alarm among the security personnel.
4. it is commonsense that security personnel,s job is to look for the 'unusual' things. that they failed to sense the 'unusual' in these young people 'walking' to gain entry to these hotels itself is beyond comprehension.
and the behavior and reactions of our politicians are sickening and frustrating. even after all this, we have yet to hear a 'let us fight terror together' from these political leaders. probably our leaders have stooped so low in public's eyes that they are incapable of sensible thinking. that they think it fit to use even such tragic occurrence to derive political mileage is a confirmation of their having attained 'reasoning menopause'.

Why I Want To write?

Why I Want To Write?

Writing is my passion. I simply love to write. Playing with words gives me immense satisfaction. I always find myself driven by an infinite desire to give expression to thoughts. Whenever I lay my hands on something to read, more than the content, I measure its worth by its language, the use of words and the command with which it was written. To me, the more one played with words, the more joy I derived reading it. I like to construct lengthy & complex sentences which has led my friends often to remark that they needed second reading to comprehend them. Of course, the primary aim of writing would be to hold the attention of the reader. Make him read every bit of what I have written. Nothing gives you greater joy than when you hear the readers say that they liked a particular section very much which in itself is proof that they have gone through every bit of it. When you make someone read the whole thing and not just in bits, that is when you really feel that it was worth the efforts. You only read something when you find it interesting – ‘content’ with its contents, or the flow of language, the powerful expressions. The quality of writing can be measured by the degree of ease with which the reader is able to immediately visualize the circumstances or the description. If you are describing a horror sequence in a rainy forest, the reader must feel the sequence or the picture as though he himself is experiencing it, making him feel as if he is watching it before his eyes – when in fact he is reading it. If you are able to create such an effect on the reader, then you have made it. I have read ‘The Godfather’, by Mario Puzo. The description of sequences & characters was amazingly awesome for it made you feel them. And when I saw the movie, it was even more stunning, because, the pictures I visualized while reading the novel were ‘picture-perfect’ in movie as well!! Capturing reader’s attention throughout & make him feel the atmosphere are the real challenges for a writer. This in fact is my ambition.

VISIONARY STUFF

VISIONARY STUFF

“Hi! There, I said, I’ve something for you”. “Out with it”. I gave him a copy of my work. I hinted that it was an article intended to tickle a rib or two, if not rib-tickling! I also instructed him to tell me it tickled his.

I felt lonely. Very lonely. I began to journey up and down the available place in my smallish joint. Nine and a half steps of ten inch each about covered a journey up. A fraction too immaterial. Well, coming back to my being lonely, I really failed to account for it. I tried to remember if I had any matter requiring my attention so that I could disengage myself from loneliness. Washing clothes, not a bad idea. But then I had done it only a couple of weeks back! No sense in indulging in that. What a colossal waste of water that is becoming more and more scarce if I did. How about a letter homewards? Not enough matter to complete a line of ten words. Famine of incidents was so extreme that the beginning of the third sentence would turn out to be a repetition of the first one. Don’t ask me what the second sentence is. Alright, if you insist, I guess I should tell you: (for your ears only) I skipped the second line.

The feeling of loneliness began to loom large. It was when I was about to place my eighth step, for the sixth time when it flashed across my mind. Why not marry? I discontinued this pacing business. I jumped at the idea. Marriage! What a tremendous sense of relief this idea brought me. Joyous tears that I shed might have filled a reasonable spoon. I could already sense loneliness clicking its pointed heels. My logic tells me that it has to be pointed because otherwise how could it click as it trotted along the tiled floor? A new chapter in my life albeit in its infancy.

No longer do I have to go to the hotels where the repetitive sight of dished succeeded in half taking away my appetite. No more do I have to swallow the messy foods in the mess. With my (beautiful) wife around, I shall be relieved of these painful exercises. I need not have to contemplate over a morning coffee. Going down all the way to a god-forsaken place for a sip of coffee in the faint hope of cheering me up a bit is something that I would be anxious to skip at the slightest excuse. To have your wife is something that does not surely fall short of the slightest excuse I alluded to. (in fact, it would go way beyond). At this juncture, I feel rather compelled to drag you back to where I mentioned going down all the way. Here I must tell you that my room is perched on the final storey of the building. Now I am sure you are able to comprehend why I have mentioned going down all the way was one hell of a journey! While at it, I may as well tell you that the building where I stayed had only two floors including the ground floor! If this is not a case of digression, I wonder what else is. Let me dart back to where I had gone off the rails. Where was that? Oh! Yes, of course, what a sight it is to see your wife bringing a tremendously refreshing cup of coffee on your waking up. I take it that my wife will always beat me to the sun. won’t you, darling? Err! Don’t mistake me, I was only addressing my (imaginary) wife. Am I enjoying the life? It seems so beautiful: my helping her in her work, doing a bit of this and a piece of that. Looking back, I have had occasions to spend countless evenings by the river side enjoying the tranquil, sylvan atmoshphere, watching young couple exchanging words ecstatically, bursting occasionally into a hearty laugh. Now that I am richer in my belongings, I intend taking her out there by the riverside. We would sit at such place as would allow us to drench ankle high and talk , talk and talk. Coming to think of it, what is it that we would talk about? An imposing question indeed! I drew blank. I wished I had a Bertie Wooster to help me out. I still remember how exceptionally ingeniously he manipulated a hopeless case of Gussie-Fink-Nottle and Madelaine Bassette into a perfectly matching pair! I wished I had a Bertie kind with me. Again I was struck by an idea. Why, of course, I would talk about my efficient work at the branch. How I had tallied Pigmy Deposit balancing in first try itself. That I made OG 73 for Rs 10.99 and Rs 100.01 being interest earned on FDs when any other employee would most certainly be tempted to credit Rs 11 and Rs 100 should prove to be a pointer to the fact that how exceptionally accurate (or miserly) I am, I would tell her! How I intend to prove myself to be indispensable to the banking industry I would chart out before her. Oh! Dear, ain’t you listening to me? Sorry, it never occurred to me that I could be boring you, Cheer up, Darling! Don’t you remember that I made a promise that I would buy you a mink coat today? Hardly had I finished saying that before I found her in my arms. I hugged her. It was then that I was brought to surface. Whom was I hugging? To be appropriate, what was I hugging? I was trying to hug air!!.

Did it tickle your rib? I asked, “May be, your next work will”, he said!!!.