Give in to the design, it knows how to unfold the best!

that incidental trail, so is life!

Been pretty long since i wrote last, just discovered i had even hit the threshold of forgetting the block setting of the document on my webpage as well. Notwithstanding the rustic fact that i don’t even pay much heed to the suavity and aesthetics as i had just been writing the stuff that filled my mind on a passing, today though i decided to look up for a brighter text color. Pink it was then, the color people do associate with the female living without any particular convincing reason, pink or mauve or whatever it was, not so good with colors and i know ladies would tear through me on the argument on right shade of colour, i stay defensive on this one. My hero today is a female, one i just met fortuitously forced by the circumstances i brought on myself. Writing undecided devoid of a clear aim, clarity has always been elusive to me, couldn’t gather clarity in a trade-off between travel and philosophy so here i am, writing a quasi travel blog with philosophy hanging in between.


Hanol, thats a place of varied consequence, the seat to Mahasu Devta, a form of lord Shiva worshiped in regions of Garhwal, Uttrakhand and parts of Himachal and sure enough a pilgrimage destination for some and a quiet serene mountain hamlet of nothing much on offer except the temple and the tranquility for the city dweller with profound expectations. Now, how i ended up making a journey to this remote corner itself is a tale of my lackadaisical to the brim attitude and the hankering for some way-off woods and i tell you, thats a concoction for failure, kind of failure i savor. Sticking to a plan is confinement one takes comfort in, death of that plan set me free, though bought wrath from the flinty side of dear sister and closest friend’s wife who banked on my vulnerable plan. Those were some whiskey soaked goodbyes that started good about four months before i was to eventually leave Delhi for the new place, regulation shifting that came along the profession. G n R were closest i had and we would sip on some ale every chance we got and more so now as my days in Delhi were numbered. GG has been a friend since college and mind you, more brother than a friend. GG’s wife R has been a friend too since they started dating and eventually got married, R, that lady i always knew as a fiery, strong willed,curt though witty corporate trainer. She wasn’t pretty receptive to the idea of adventure travel as i started planning a trip to the mountains for the final stretch of goodbyes. She couldn’t have been, given the metropolitan life, corporate culture that she was in and then their young child of just three. I promised a plan blending in a cosy night retreat after every day’s drive and she bought it, GG, my man was just sipping on his wheat beer in perfect composure, maintaining that quintessential GG smile, hiding in it his affirmative belief in the fickleness of my plan and his trust in my misadventure.

Chakratta was the place i had my sights on, a serene little hamlet in Uttrakhand that i first visited on a bike and found some good trails to arouse my adrenaline and enough woods to lay it to rest. Perfect plan’s death concoction has a basic ingredient and i bought that enough, started the preparations with buying booze even before checking the booking for the resort or some hideout for the nights, few days passed and i finally paid some attention to the “less important” aspect of accommodation. I started up with checking up with the forest department for some way too deep into the woods sleepy guesthouse and i received my first wake up call, they tell me their guest houses are all gone under election commission for the time as elections were in play. Then came the commercial online booking sites, couldn’t really find some decent ones with my kind of adrenaline junkie palate, was rather fixated to have some way off retreat. I remembered staying at a government owned commercial property at Munsiyari, Kumaon once and it was sure a good experience, that was enough for me to start looking for a government owned tourist resort and nearest i could find was Hanol, a place just over a 100 kilometers of broken, bad road away from chakratta and the only merit it scored was its remoteness. Well, i didnt even know Hanol was that far as i booked the resort and that was the last nail in the already not so perfect plan’s coffin.

A couple of days prior to the drive, i discovered that Hanol was actually too way off if trails around Chakratta were to be aimed at besides it was 12 hours drive from Delhi, i prepared myself for the onslaught, my wife had already warned me against any adventure in this trip besides the burden of not letting my people down played heavy as after all i was the one entrusted with the responsibility of ill-planning the entire trip. Willy-nilly we set out and hit the road, long winding mountain road with relatively scanty traffic and patches of awe inspiring sights reassured me of the place, Hanol, its beauty, tranquility and then the noose of that responsibility just loosened a bit around my neck.

It took an entire day of driving to finally reach and i was starving, kids restless and the two ladies apprehensive. ladies had the apprehensions right, we got two beautiful set of rooms in the resort which had no other guest and there was a reason…. there was no restaurant in a radius of 20 long, curvy, dark and lonely kilometers…..i felt that agony of the noose tightening around my neck, throat suddenly went dry and i was choking, i looked at my wife, at R and i choked some more. Our man GG yet, was smiling, sometimes his composure makes me feel he is the next Dalai Lama and its a privilege being associated with him as someday i would perhaps get a chance of writing his biography, my only chance of hitting fame but right now i was dying of culpability and needed to excavate an eating joint somehow. My lord savior appeared in form of the resort caretaker and told me he is trying to speak to a lady in the village who owns a shabby little shack on the road and perhaps could cook something for us to survive the night. Last we met GG and R was at Fio, that uptown garden restaurant in the Garden of Five Senses, Delhi and this shack was pretty quick a run downstairs in comparison.

A small table with four chairs, a gas stove and few biscuit packs was all we had to call an eating joint tonight, the lady owner was cooking herself with her daughter to assist, Me and GG stayed in the car and turned to the famous Old Monk for solace and some thoughts of wisdom. Notwithstanding the expectations, Sita, the lady had cooked well and for me, the added advantage was presented by the fact that the lady was Gurkhali and had quintessential style of cooking……real hot pepper. Old monk and some hot food, i was good to hit the sack. I sheepishly announced that the next day’s dawn would see us packing for Chakratta and would find some good retreat, asked Sita to prepare breakfast too as there wasn’t a place to offer much before Chakratta on the next day’s drive as well. We in-fact, had bothered Sita at an inappropriate time and she had prepared a custom food order specifically for us, having spent some recent years in the capital city filled with malevolent, hard-bitten people with sole aim of sucking on someone else’s meagre resources one was pretty sure and prepared to pay dearly for what belly full we ate. Sita had a surprise for me, she asked me meagre 280 bucks, maan! That was less than one pack of decent cigarettes, I tried bargaining to pay some 500 that I found still was too little for the hospitality, the courteous smile she maintained as she declined to accept my proposition was touching.

We went back to our night retreat, continued drinking and R was cheerful and was liking the tranquility, I was hanging on to the slender thread of hope of getting some accommodation somewhere next to chakratta now as the plan was laid to rest in peace. Next day started energetic and fresh, we that included my wife and children paid our allegiance to Mahasu Devta, visited the temple and sought blessings meanwhile GG and R, agnostic as they were waited for us at Sita’s shack. We joined them, had our breakfast fill and pretty hearty one. I began my ritual of trying to push some extra money to Sita for what I felt was her hospitality and warmth, she would relent a bit. R requested Sita for a picture with us and she obliged with a tears in her eyes, she perhaps didn’t expect our respect in reciprocation of her candor conduct and humble hospitality without assuming anything in return. We all were touched, that was a basic human emotion that should just be obvious to all of us, helping fellow humans, that’s compassion and we had to travel 12 hours to see that happening.

Sita had meagre resources, she fights the entire day to run her shack, fights to keep the hope of having some prospect alive, she had an opportunity to make some paltry profit for a day but she didn’t let that idea flirt with her daily honesty, she stuck to her values and some random city dwelling people better endowed with some dough couldn’t shake her. She did a favour to all of us unaware, she kindled a belief in compassion, basic human emotions and shook us all out of our relationship with material comfort. None of us was indifferent to love and compassion, we had that already in us, she just stirred up what lay in slumber. She was rich, richer than the rest of us, richer in compassion, her conscience inculpable.

We wished her adieu and I was in jeopardy wishing her better prospects or wishing her status quo, I couldn’t decide. She had her conscience clear, her compassion intact and spirits undeterred, would that all hold on to the assault of civilization, the civilization as we call it however uncivil it may actually be. The contact, the proximity to the “practical’ indifferent city dwellers would spoil the demureness, won’t let her be what she was. I couldn’t decide what to wish for, I just left it to the unfolding of the design. Sure wouldn’t find that humility at manali or shimla or any other spoilt by internees to almighty dollar City tenant hill station. I wish that demure Sita endures, perhaps utopian, I just still wish.

Well, Hanol wasn’t a plan, that was a design that unfolded beyond my influence and understanding. Perhaps a visit to Mahasu Devta and then this lesson on humility. That unorganised jeopardy brought me even closer to my dearest GnR, we sipped on our ale at places we never planned, trails we never imagined leaving a tread on and lush woods that sooth my eyes still. Plans are vulnerable, plans are what we seek comfort in while the higher design governs all unnoticed, mountains have always been inviting and i would stay on a quest for the next summit, the next trail, next set of deep woods…….i wont plan, i give in to the design!


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Deniability is the new accomplishment : Understanding Pakistan

Deniability is an accomplishment when you have done something heinous and you are sure of grave ramifications. Deniability is a much needed tool in the strategic/ diplomatic corners of the world. That particular aspect of strategy has a purpose, it gives you an added gratification of conducting a military/ hybrid operation against the adversary without either risking a war or a even a stain on your image at higher platforms of world affairs. In modern day urban dictionary this can just be termed as the “Ability to Pass The buck” or just “shrug as if you had no clue” or look at someone else in suspicion, pass on the suspicion. Its an art to shift the blame and find an opportune moment to do so. An art that Pakistani diplomats, military and their politicians have been finding comfort in since 1948 when they sent irregulars to raid Jammu and Kashmir, that was their first attempt at pushing their Kashmir agenda as a peoples’ uprising.

In 65 and in 99 as well Pakistan used the hybrid warfare to initial advantage and the present generation of Indians surely would remember how Pakistan even refused to accept the bodies of their dead soldiers, they were exercising deniability by trying to push a lie that those occupying Indian posts at Kargil were Kashmiri irregulars fighting Indian forces for freedom. They sent their version of messenger of brotherly relations to Mumbai on 26/11 and asked for credentials of their involvement from India, that was pinnacle of hypocrisy and denial. Their deniability was given a shot of steroids by our own ultra modern squinted intelligentsia by terming it “RSS ki Sazish”, remember how our own eminent citizen posed smiling on the book launch of “26/11 : RSS ki Sazish“. That book by Aziz Burney, ill leave it out for a while and get back later to dig in to the entire ecosystem within the nation which intentionally or unintentionally willy-nilly helps Pakistan’s denial doctrine.

Pakistan started getting enhanced advantage in denial especially since 1990s with the start of Kashmir militancy, they diverted Jihad ready battle hardened Afghan war veteran irregulars to Kashmir in the name of Jihad initially and by and by recruited local boys to carry the banner of indigenous freedom struggle. This was the time in the history when Pakistan started finding feet in Kashmir. Now they are in a position to force a costly war on us using their hybrid tool, the terrorist outfits, of-course an extended arm of the state policy of Pakistan. Costly it is indeed as they can just send a wasted hood rat to blow himself up and kill nearly 50 of our trained men who have families back home.

All credits to Pakistan’s strategic planners, they have hit us at a very critical time. Lok Sabha Elections are just around the corner, political mudslinging would be at its highest now and Pakistan knows this is the best time to throw the gauntlet at India. Pakistani establishment has been attempting a total denial but now he has friends among-st us who provide them the wherewithal to do so.

Friends, well yes Pakistan has many to push its agenda and stretch it to make a narrative of common know all across India. I was just hearing Mr Imran Khan’s speech which ended with a threat, he clearly said “we know you are blaming us and your elections are due”. Did he even need to say so, no i clearly don’t think so, haven’t our own political parties in opposition started asking why Pulwama happened just before elections? either these people asking these kind of questions are absolute cretins or are viciously involved in Pakistan’s denial doctrine. Yes ma’am yes, “Pulwama happened just before elections because Pakistan wants you to ask this question” they want you to be the cheer-girls dancing on their bleed india with thousand cuts  anthem. They want you to accuse your own government of the day, thats the best case scenario for their modus operandi.

We lack strategic thinking and its okay, okay as strategic thinking can be left to the best brains for the job and i tell you there are many in our nation, many at the fitting appointments cut out for the job so lets all just be citizens and real good ones. Trust the Armed Forces, the Government of the day and show some real character without a frenzied cacophony of immediate revenge, revenge is best served cold just understand that. let the strategic brains work out a strategy and be assured they will come up with a pretty good one

I am in no position to question your political allegiances and nor will i ever, “Non Partisan yet opinionated” that defines me and that’s the way ill always be but nonetheless i am a responsible citizen or i try to be always, to say the least. Having said that, i still wont shy away from saying it loud that there is not a fine line between opposing a political ideology and standing against your nation’s interests, there is a wide gorge. You only have to be out-rightly asinine lamebrain or iniquitous anti-national to jump across that wide gap. RSS is an ideology, many would approve of it many wouldn’t and both groups still live peacefully in a democracy. your opposition to that ideology or a particular product of that ideology doesn’t give you the boarding pass to Pakistan’s sinister propaganda. 26/11 was blamed on RSS by people within our nation while Government’s official stand was that it was Pakistan’s job which in fact was validated by various intelligence agencies across the world. If that too is not to be believed, Kasab was a Pakistani and i wouldn’t believe RSS has presence enough in Pakistan to recruit from there as well.

Social media has given further fillip to Pakistan’s game in India, our fine dining intellectuals take to social media to create a humane narrative for the terrorist, Adil Dar became a terrorist as he was made to rub his nose on the road and Burhan Wani was a School Headmaster’s son , I as a commoner only know both of them as terrorists and thats about it, we do not need to know whether he was a virgin or he watched Shinchan all that matters is both of them were waging war against the Indian union.

I am so disgusted with the narratives being created to fit Pakistan’s agenda and the credulous gullible young brains snorting that falsehood on social media and buying that argument of Why it happened before elections and how the terrorist was as a son. Now in ire i am even losing my flow and wouldn’t write anymore, i’d just exhort my countrymen to understand Pakistan’s game and play to defeat it and not to play in their hands. Do not give them the deniability they want.

Jai Hind


Wanna know Why Pulwama happens? Wear my sunglasses please.

Someone asked me yesterday why do we have terrorism keeping us shackled even after decades of counter terrorism operations.

Why a PULWAMA?
Okay then let’s give you the oliveblood’s latest sunglasses to peep through for some hard hitting perspective.

DEBATABLE that its the oldest civilisation, one of the oldest thats beyond dispute, well narrated past glory prior to 1000s of years of tyranny and occupation and then the costly independence with in effect four nations sliced out of its flesh, INDIA, PAKISTAN, BANGLADESH AND I’D INCLUDE MYANMAR for the obvious truth.

ANY OTHER NATION AND COMMUNITY WITH THAT STRUGGLE AND A HISTORY OF LOSSES to record,

ANY OTHER NATION would have come out stronger and would be staunch to preserve its identity, any other Nation!!!

did i say NATION? oh yeah, thats what, thats where i went wrong, british left a landmass containing vivid creatures, uncouth, divided, self hating beings with absolutely zilch self respect.

British left as they had become too weak economically and administratively fighting the Great war against Germans and Japs to handle administration of a far away land and the naive ones of the subcontinent assumed their victory.

British made our soldiers win their battle for them and pay in blood all across the world against the enemy they didnt know, suffered indeed indians, the same indians who suffer now.

The nation? that landmass could never be, little self respect, little lionization in indian blood would have punched us all out of the comatose we are in.Alas if we had. Nationhood is alien to us.

No we arent a nation and never will be, or else HOW THE #$%^ CAN SOMEONE CALL FOR BREAKING THIS COUNTRY ONCE MORE??

AZAADI? FOR KASHMIR, FOR BASTAR? AZAADI AND CHANTS IN GLORY OF SEPARATISTS? THAT TOO FROM A SO CALLED STELLAR UNIVERSITY IN THE COUNTRY’S CAPITAL?

Our enemies know we have crying witches pseudo intelligentsia who would set up a HUMANE narrative for the terrorist, media would interview his father to come out with a justifiable cause for him joining the militancy. If rubbing nose on the road makes you Ram about 350kgs of high explosive and ruin about 50 families then this world would have ended by now but wait, Our Guy Adil Dar is said to have joined militancy precisely because he was supposedly made to rub his nose once by police, well anyway whether or not that’s a reality, narrative has been constructed nonetheless.

Newspapers, that regular daily dose of propaganda delivered at your doorstep carries the headline ” LOCAL YOUTH RAMS IED INTO CRPF BUS : GOVT BLAMES PAK” that’s the official toilet paper of india we are talking about here.
Now you tell me, does Pakistan need a propaganda machinery at all? I bet they don’t even need to pay these useful idiots.

Some high on hemp shady alleys journalist writes ” hows the JAISH modiji” , we know lady you’ve ambitions and none knew you till half a second back and you hopped on the first available opportunity to let your venom out at the PM and earn your 15 seconds of fame. I seriously don’t have a problem with the antics for fame and your hatred for the PM but I do have a problem when you glorify those illegitimate waste of Pakistan sponsored terrorists and then I do have a problem as social media provides you enough nuisance to influence young gullible minds.

The nation, the real mettle of the nation has been embroiled in hybrid warfare forced upon us by our adversary since 1948. We are at war, yes we are at war and my throat goes sore shouting, you wouldn’t hear a thing. Nations at war can’t afford to feed parasites within but India does.

This war is costly, it is indeed vis a vis what Pakistan has to invest, they send a wasted Mr nobody and kill our 50 families, yeah it’s not the man killed, the entire family with him, that wife dies every day for rest of her life. While the government decides whether or not to raise the stakes higher for Pakistan for another adventure, you the citizen needs to show gumption and be a citizen soldier, a responsible citizen is a force multiplier.

NO!!! that aint in fashion to write or speak on these issues and i already know even those who read this piece of emotional gibberish will not spare me a laugh. NO!!!! i wouldn’t be taken as cool , wont be ‘in’ cos of these thoughts and i risk being old school unfashionable INTOLERANT sharing these sentiments.

DONT!! just dont speak up, just stay cool and in fashion as the country goes spiraling to davy jone’s locker.

ADIEU!!
Earnestly,
your Oliveblood wanderer

Resolve, duty and responsibility. All that a soldier asks!

This stays relevant as another attack happened, Pulwama

Nonpartisan yet opinionated

RESOLVE!!

congratulations sir, your son has joined the Army!!!!

now that, gentlemen is quite a statement! It hides in it a cruel callousness.

thank you sir, so would you send your son too?

birds chirped, some twigs crackled underneath the feet as the man shifted his weight to the other leg in a denial and sheepish admission that he wont, but no word was ever heard!!!

Now, that said, I dont believe that you serve your nation only as a soldier, every citizen is a soldier in himself!

BUT then, is it?

Does IC-814 ring any bells?
?????????????????????????????????????????????????does it?

that sir, was the plane hijacked by pakistani jihadis and taken to Afghanistan.
REMEMBER how relatives of those on board the hijacked plane surrounded the PM’s house at Race Cource???

Remember?

well that gentlemen was the moment that sealed our future as a nation, The world watched and pakistan tested our…

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Feminism, here you go again on a skateboard of hogwash!

The Last I heard, the breech block of a T-72/90 series tank was 67 kgs and space available in a battle tank is just enough for one, only one person to take it out, well that calls for an exclamation mark. Maaaaan! That’s something.

Well then, lets have some more exclamation in this post of mine, A Diesel Barrel weighs just above 200 kgs and has to be hauled up to the tank by maximum available manpower, that’s incidentally only three men in a tank, what? Isn’t that manageable? It is my ladies, it is but that hauling is being done in loose desert sand of Thar. Hey you, yes you the girl sipping on that Hoegaarden and talking of male patriarchy, how much do you haul in a day? Naah, I am not taking about that haughty attitude, it’s solid iron we are discussing here. Maaaaan! Again.

A para commando from the Para SF you just saw on the silver screen courtesy the Uri frenzy, that man hides under his tunic, plenty scars to fill a mosaic. That man runs 40 km with some 30 kg loads on his back. I bet that back is bruised enough to call for a stiff rum and a cigarette after every run.

Then everyone of them, no man whether a Tank man, a paratrooper, a foot trotting infantryman, a peasant, a commoner with an uphill walk of everyday life. No man would thump his chest and rub in that male patriarchy, chauvinism, they are just cut out for a task, performing that without comparison. Girl, your man holds you to higher pedestal, you my lady are loved, you too have a role in the society and are loved, celebrated for what you are.

Well then, I am accused of turning to my Olive green Ink everytime I sit to write my irrelevant piece of illegible griffonage. I take a bow, offer my apologies and switch to the legible blue ink of common understanding. I am wedded to the olive greens I told you, grant me some military inclination. Eh, Here on we talk some sanity that you can relate to.

Every society has flaws, had some, some gone and some going eventually. That’s how societies come out of a metamorphosis refined. Our society too had many, has many and one can be upbeat owing to the fact that education has eliminated many flaws and social behaviour towards women definitely has improved. One extremity can’t be answered by another, respect for women in the society has to be fully achieved but this NewAge Swara Bhaskar’s VEERE DI WEDDING or #metoo kind of feminism isn’t the answer.

Psychiatric illness doesn’t discriminate between genders, psychos are found across the spectrum so we won’t discuss them, fair exception, isn’t it? Have a look around you, tell me how many wife beaters you find, how many male chauvinistic hookah smoking TAUs you see, how many you find ridiculing your feminism? Vis a vis how many you see trying to take a flip on their tails with rosebuds in hand for you this valentine’s day. This is a society with different hue, you just can’t paint everyone with the same paint of male hatred.

FEMINISM, like MALE CHAUVINISM, I hate, these are two extremities and none will lead to an amicable armistice for the society.

Feminism has been a skateboard of evangelism, an instrument of commercial interests for about a century now. Hey feminist, how about a cigarette? Yes, you, the pregnant lady, would you like to light one? Naah! Please don’t give me that stare now, I am perfectly in line with the code of feminism. Hope you know how feminism was used as an object to push up the cigarette sales? ????

Ever heard “Torches of Freedom” ? That was a phrase used to encourage women’s smoking by exploiting women’s aspirations for a better life during the women’s liberation movement. Tobacco industry has been lobbying for female smokers and has always looked to encourage women smoking to push their sales as the smoking in women was seen as inappropriate and only men folk smoking would keep a void in sales, more smokers the better.

Hey pregnant lady, what about a smoke for equality???

Cigarette was held as a torch of liberty, you were made the vehicle of commercial evangelism while you were burning your lungs for their commercial interests. You were shown smoking yourselves to liberty and equality, perhaps you were shown to be better than men genetically, however logic would say, men and women were made with a different purposes. You have the power to bring a life to this world, nurture a human in your womb for nine months and let the universal cycle continue, men can’t do it so here’s one aspect you are different, why press superiority into the relationship between men and women. It’s a relationship which is complementary, isn’t complete in absence of any one gender. You have the honour of giving birth, nurturing and feeding entire human race, that’s feminism as I define. You are honoured when someone calls you mother.

bait of biological superiority thrown at you to take that puff on their commercial interests

We have women working alongside men, better or worse than them, owing to individual capabilities and not for the biological differences. Men have more muscle mass and are stronger generally, so have certain jobs cut out for them. Even the harmones that decide our physical built are produced differently in our bodies, we aren’t same, we are different and complementary. Armies around the world are making ways for women to join but then those roles are specific and limited to what women can handle, why that fuss? Why do you want to eat into combat jobs not suited for you when you already have an added advantage of that female charm owing to which you get front desk hospitality jobs? Should men cry bias? More so when we all know this is an everyday reality.

Well, why limit this to jobs? Let’s get to the modest homemaker, that “just a housewife” you have reduced her to. I hear women introducing themselves as “just a housewife“, I tend to wonder what’s so timid about being a housewife, why that triviality introduced to being the shaper of the future of a society and the nation? I bet a housewife is busier than a working woman anyday, cooking, teaching, grooming the kids, being a charming wife to a husband, being a partner of her husband in every social chore. If that all is so easy, just leave that pint of Hoegaarden and try being a homemaker for a day. You today have a handicap of surviving in urban steep corporate ladder so you turn to a nanny for your kid, that’s okay, pretty much justified but then you have some being nanny themselves and taking that responsibility being reduced to a diffident “just a housewife”, well that’s one hell of a job too. Why isn’t the neo modern feminism celebrating that as well? Doesn’t serve the commercial interests my friend.

Mary Kom, she’s a fighter, is a world champion boxer, a homemaker, a mother and a wife, I never heard her talking feminism, ever her bollywood biopic wasn’t shown as the Pathfinder of feminism. That biopic came, went unnoticed however for me she is the one pretty apt example of female achievement.

But then, the real pathbreaking movie in line of duty for feminism projected to be was ” VEERE DI WEDDING” aah, afterall that showed liberty in drinking, smoking, jumping into different beds and how can one forget that crass on screen vibrating Orgasm by none other than the torchbearer of feminism “Swara Bhaskar”. That movie was pathbreaking, epitome of female empowerment, well they may now even say they didn’t project it to be ultra feminist flick, the commercial interests have been met nonetheless.

Whatever they did in the flick or whatever is being given on a daily platter to you by “four more shots” on Amazon prime is not a living reality of our society but sure enough it will be, they, after all are designing your perception. Feminism sold you cigarettes and now they are selling you vulgarity and regular divorce in the society. An array of different kinds of feminism is available, you gotta be sane enough to choose the right one.

Well, I take my leave, my blue ink won’t last much, I’d bid adieu before I have to get back to the olive greens!

Lost tribe, are we?

Civilizations, well we know some, we’d never get to know some, so many done and dusted, ruined, brought to their knees and traces of them lost in oblivion. All those who breathe yet in flesh and blood, all those who walk the trail still and boast of the thriving civilization and pledge their allegiance to, wouldn’t know when they’ll be gone, their existence reduced to someone’s perception based on carbon dating analysis of what was a proud man of profound stature once.

You, the brownskin indian hold the ownership of your temples, your scriptures, your verses, your past, present and future. You are the one not under attack by anyone but you, yes you are the one who will eventually erase the traces of your being. This subcontinent, this civilization, your people, your philosophy, your identity, your story, your sonnet has been doggedly attacked for thousands of years yet you have your civilization surviving, on a nebulizer though.

I, once met a cambodian army officer, he proudly wore a badge, the brass badge had a half human half ape leaping figure with a club in hand, I was inquisitive to know what it was though I already had figured what it was, his answer didn’t startle me a bit, it was Hanuman Badge that every member of the Cambodian Army wore. Cambodia was a Buddhist nation and pretty far from India, why a Hindu Badge on Military uniform? I didn’t know that largest Vishnu temple in the world, “Angkor wat” temple itself was in Cambodia. Well, then, the nation was Buddhist and their Hindu past was a long forgotten fact, but then, was it really? That officer knew of his Hindu past and wore that badge with utmost pride, that didn’t make him any less a Buddhist. That left a bitter sweet feeling, I felt proud of our civilization, felt a bond, he was a distant brother who carried that legacy with pride and at the same moment I felt bitter anguish at our own people bent on destroying ever affinity to our past, our civilization.

Thailand still has Ram Leela, Indonesia has Ganesh image on its currency. Now, former is a Buddhist and later a muslim nation, their religion didn’t make them cut off that umbilical cord with their civilization, their past.

The vedic civilization, that brought philosophy, mathematics, science, yoga, meditation and even if you don’t believe that and call all text as pure fiction, that philosophy documented as Vedas, Upnishads, Purans, Mahabharata, Ramayana deserve more respect than that “God of small things” and the ” City of Djinns” after all that documentation in those times of no computers, no internet, no automation, not even a decent modest pen must have been rather more uphill than this scribbling of mine over a smart phone. That effort nonetheless draws my respect without an ounce of doubt.

That civilization gave you Liberty to question, liberty to accept or denounce, that civilization never posed a threat to anyone, that philosophy asked you to look inwards to find the true god in yourself, see the supreme power, the creator in every living being. That civilization bore the brunt of raids, attacks and subjugation yet it survived while accepting those who came into its asylum.

Yet, we the civilized and free, we the educated and liberated want every trace of our past erased, we find Sanskrit communal and English secular. Anthems and emblems with even a distant analogue to the vedic civilization have been projected as a threat to our secularism, our religion and our way of life today.

I, today, am a Hindu, a Muslim, a Christian, a Sikh, a Buddhist, a Jain or an atheist yet I have a legacy which can co-exist with the religion I follow. That civilization is mine and I own it, I shoulder the responsibility and the culpability of letting my legacy prosper or cutting the jugular vein of it. I have an identity that goes back a thousand years, that can’t be taken away whether I have a beard, a moustache, wear a turban or a cross.

Why then, why should I have a problem with “Tamso ma Jyotirgamaya” that translates to “take me to the light“. Yes, that’s the prayer in every central school assembly, that’s the prayer which appeared to be toxic to certain ears, those ears ruptured by the toxicity of that prayer had to knock the doors of the Supreme Court of India for some alleviation. Is that prayer as toxic as those ears made it to be? Is that calling to enlightenment, the light, so venomous that people felt their secularism strangulated.

We are a nation, a potpourri of different philosophies, we accept that Azaan on loudspeakers, see the music in those church bells, serenity in Gurbani , that’s religion and everyone is entitled to practice his own the way he likes, that’s the right I enjoy in a secular, democratic country of mine and what I, as an individual and part of this great nation, a small keg who’ll vanish someday without leaving much profound footmarks, owe to the legacy, my civilization, my allegiance and respect.

My secularism cannot be used as a bayonet to behead my past, my legacy and identity. I am an Indian, I have a history, a past that makes my identity today. That Ashoka emblem is my legacy, my history, my past, that Satyamev Jayate does not pose a threat to my secular credentials. I perhaps am a Muslim or a Christian today, my identity is indian, I am not an Arab, not a Caucasian either, nor I would ever be accepted by the world to be if I try to pose as one.

We aren’t a lost tribe yet, we have an identity unless we kill our identity ourselves. Why can’t we just be proud of what we are. Well still, every man has his own world, a 3D printed cocoon of perception around him.

Nuisance, you are a conquerer!

Man was a monkey and evolution is a rollercoaster. You had empires ruled by emperors, kingdoms ruled by kings and now you have Nations ruled by, swayed by Nuisance.
A nobleman, a foot soldier, a pikeman, a cavalier and a peasant held higher social stature than the Jester, the clown, the harlots and a hoofer.
Now your foot Soldier, your commoner, your peasant, your regular daily life bread earner leaves on an uncelebrated death, given a paltry farewell in a remote village and those clowns of Mumbai theatrics have enough nuisance to sway the opinions of every “paddy on the head” new generation oh so cool waste.
Frenzy is generated to live half a week, frenzy grown on the blood of that foot Soldier and reaped by that bollywood jester.

That “how’s the josh” survives only in cosy air-conditioned PVR and INOX and yet that won’t last a Hangover.

The Grisly, that ugly tanned commoner, that foot Soldier is seen a plenty at Jammu Railway Sation and I bet you won’t walk to him and ask “how’s the josh” no, you won’t, he after all reeks of that sweat he earned on a steep climb to the post he held.

He, after all carries that tan, the tan that razor sharp piercing snow Blizzard left on his weather beaten face.

He, after all has every Long Range Patrol etched on his skin, that etching is pretty much legible, not many would see though.

That rucksack isn’t the only weight he hauls, that burden of war he carries with pride.

He, after all is a brute that belongs to the wilderness, he would be skinned, stripped of all that finances he saved over years by you the countrymen as he arrives to the civilized world, he is a gullible customer, you’ll sell everything at a higher price to him. He after all knows nothing of your cunning plans for him.

Nuisance after all is what rules the world of fickle today and then a traffic police constable has more to offer as a threat to you than that common foot Soldier, there you go.

Any random man who has a pint of Nuisance affecting your life on a regimen draws your genuine respect and if not respect, your fears, your allegiance, your submission.

But then, boy, I tell you, that commoner, that peasant, that soldier forgot to acquire that pint of much needed Nuisance and obviously enough you forget to respect him in turn.

Well,
Slapped enough observations of a tanned commoner in your face already to sag that “how’s the Josh” frenzy of yours my friend. Get back to your cheeseburger and PS-4 , my write up here doesn’t carry enough Nuisance worth your time.

Nuisance rules, it does my friend, my write up would draw a hundred views but a DHINCHAK POOJA crass lowly braying on YouTube would have a Five Million Views……ha ha ha, well that’s how Nuisance has come to rule our world.

Evolution then is just a rollercoaster and as of now we are on a descent.