Skepticism? Agnosticism? Atheism ? or just plain naivety of the nugatory commoner. The quest and the Reason i look inwards, set myself to rest, go with the flow of Sanatan Dharma!

He hangs on a belief for what else could be so real in his entire fickle existence knitted with lies, he was a myth and he nurtured the myth of his ownership of space and time. That man weaves a starry eyed fantasy of limitless capability, technology to know the deep buried secrets of the universe, augmenting his senses to peep into the unknown and yet, a moment is all it takes to lay all his dreams to rest without decent last rites.

what do we build our perceptions on? the senses that confine us to measured boundaries vis-a-vis the vast unending realities of the universe. we have a world confined by our senses, perceptions to what we can see, hear, understand and relate, what if we were just as diminutive as the microscopic parasites that we everyday wash off our hands. yes. we are timid, minuscule, irrelevant and perishable colony of organisms in the bigger cosmic canvas. Human skin in itself is a living colony of microscopic trillions and one drop of hand sanitizer is an apocalypse for them, isnt it? am i not the complete universe to them? how far can that microscopic being go in the path of discovery to see the actual universe? it cannot, it would just live and die assuming my skin to be the unending universe.

Humans are gifted indeed, gifted with five senses, ability to analyze, perceive, a reach to rationale and faculties to exercise them all yet humans to are confined, bound by dark curtains of the limits of our senses and even more by imposing the shackles of philosophies and the dogmas of our own making. The dogma calls for allegiance and culls the tendency to question, killing the man’s quest and the yearning to challenge his limits. A shackled man surrenders to the comfort of the confinement, forgetting he was already confined by his senses.

Vision : A pair of human eyes has a total field of view of approximately 200 degrees horizontally and those eyes that proffer you the visual treat of the universe as you see it too are limited by a set of wavelength. Eyes wouldn’t let you peep beyond the VIBGYOR and that’s about it folks! you cannot even see the very well known WIFI wave traveling in your room and yet you have the gumption to discount the supernatural?

Hearing : 20 to 20000 decibels is all that sums up your hearing and the comprehension based on hearing too is skewed considerably. Howling of a wolf, barking of a dog, some random noises of the nature, did you ever ask yourself if they conveyed some meaning? Even human languages, whats the difference in howling of a wolf and a song in mandarin to me? i can understand neither.

Touch, smell and taste : these three senses have not even been studied that well and as such animals beat humans in each. Selectively animals have certain senses way too advanced than us humans, a pig can smell a buried landmine, bats move on radar technology of their own, birds have GPS navigation. Humans have not even learnt from animals fully and we sit back reclining with a cheeseburger in one hand and a TV remote in the other assuming primacy among-st species, certain forms of belief often even profess that all species are made to serve the humans, naivety and ludicrosity knows no limits!

well, i started with time and space yet the ‘spacy’ me drifting in the comforts of languorous thoughts just could help drifting away before some sane gulp of stiff black coffee jolted me back the the time and space i was in, lets plunge into time and space then. ever thought of a parallel world around you or perhaps multiple parallel worlds? what if one was to pause the world for an hour and then restart from where it was without anyone knowing about this? what if there is some species so fast that they can live years in what seems a minute to us? would we get to notice? we cannot even see a bullet in the air, only get to see the effect. What if there are certain things that walk around but their presence is not caught by the VIBGYOR? their effect is not noticed by us, noise is lesser that 20 decibels? perhaps more developed radars and sight systems would explore. what if there is something that doesn’t have a shape. 

The cosmic and the possibilities are unending, so is my belief, my belief isn’t a Dogma, dogmas restrict, they box the imagination and limit it to rigid philosophy unwelcoming to acceptance of a contradiction, an argument or a disagreement. Dogmas are sinister, dogmas arouse a turf war which has and would continue to destroy humanity. There are no tight compartments where my belief dwells, idol worship doesn’t make me an infidel, giving up idol worship and meditate to look inwards doesn’t throw me out of my belief system, I am still a human, believer of Sanatan values, I don’t pray, worship or meditate, am still a Sanatan Dharmic human, I just do good deeds in life. Renouncing every material bond and deciding to wander in woods of anonymity, looking for the supreme in my own self keeps me as Sanatan Dharmic human, a believer as living a commoner’s life and being true to my family, all people around me. My belief doesn’t harm anyone, doesn’t profess harming any life around me, a vegan is welcome so is a diehard non-vegetarian, he’ll discover on his own, if he feels like he’ll give up meat, even if he doesn’t he still is part of the belief system, he’s not declared an infidel. 

Some would question the very existence of the supreme in any form, the Atheists and yes they too are welcome, they question, that’s their right, that’s the only way to get answers, they are  ‘Saadhaks’ , the seekers and thats how my belief system accepts them, they are never turned away and called infidels. Some live a life of penance and pain, some just dance in joy and celebrate life undeterred, both are the children of the same divine philosophy of acceptance. Undiscovered, unknown and unlimited is how i define the divine, how much do i know to denounce someone else’s ways? I worship life in every form, i am grateful to creations around me, i thank sun for giving the very basic energy without which there would be no life on earth, I thank “Vayu”, the air for my breath, I thank rivers and mountains for resources, i thank mother earth for hosting all life. I don’t have “too many gods” but yes, i worship all manifestations of the supreme, i respect all life and all life givers. I am human and i am an inconsequential seeker in the vast unfolding of the cosmic, i remain a seeker and thats a title no one can take away while i choose what i choose to do keeping on the path of good “Karma”. I can go and visit a mosque, a church, a synagogue, i wear a turban, a hat, a skull cap or flash a “Tilak” on my forehead, I am a Dharmic, a Sanatani and my belief doesn’t declare me an outcast, my belief encourages me to discover. My belief is “Sanatan Dharma”.

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A Cafe Racer in an Unfamiliar Terrain : My Hidalgo Novelette

Loyalty of the steed and the rider is mutual prerequisite, an emotional bond that outweighs an otherwise logical “man for the job” kind of selection. Man and the gelding, they’d yearn to conquer the unknown together and they won’t let that thought of a “better replacement” shake their stubborn loyalty. I, for one, fell in love with the ‘leaf out of history’ reintroduction of the Cafe Racer by Royal Enfield with a 535 Electronic Fuel Injection heart, Continental GT, named rather inappropriately as the machine’s ergonomics only made it suitable for a short city ride at max, that was pretty much a Cafe Racer’s cut-out task anyway and associating any kind of “continental” reference was pretty misleading. Well, if that wasn’t enough Royal Enfield embarked upon an advertisement campaign that showed a British duo riding all through Europe and Asia on their Continental GTs to find their ‘cafe’ at Madras. That callow yet tenacious one smitten by the beauty of that stallion was done in by the looks of it, that red cafe racer responding to his grip on the throttle reducing ravines, the vales and the mountains only to a distant image in the rear view mirror. That view though, was unfamiliar to that cafe racer creed, so were deserts of Arabia once for Hidalgo, an American native Mustang.

That 2016 Continental GT535 and Hidalgo of the yore had much in common, both were threatened species, Hidalgo’s mustang breed was being culled by the orders of the US government in order to force the native Americans to farming, mustang was a native variety of horses looked down upon as a lesser variety of breed, they weren’t considered pure blood or “thorough bred” yet its rider Mr Hopkins decided to race it to utmost endurance in an unfamiliar, unsuited terrain and he raced it to victory as well. The GT535 was being discontinued by Royal Enfield to make way for the newer, better and more powerful cousins GT650 and the Interceptor 650 and could be called a threatened species already. Quintessentially mulish me, decided to draw another parallel among-st the GT535 and Hidalgo, i decided to take him to a journey it was rather incompatible for, i decided to take that stallion to Himalayan circuits, lesser known to the “cafe racer” creed.

The designer must have been pretty sure of himself while he put that cafe racer on the drawing board, he was going to make it a single seat, city ride. The forward leaning rider’s posture on its back made sure it was a swift, muscular short sprinter and no-way a long distance marathoner, you attempt a marathon and it’ll hurt decent number of muscles to remind you of your unyielding idiocy. The ride came with a single seat which added to the already glam look about it however made sure there wasn’t space enough for a saddlebag or enough frame for an added Ladakh carrier, a double seat could be additionally bought but there wasn’t even a rear foot-rest to allow a pillion if you tried to stretch your ideas a bit too far. That “Jugaad” double seat provided some space for a saddlebag though, if that was a respite i was looking for, i got it just enough. A double seat and a saddlebag bought, bungee cords could do the rest, strapped on a rucksack and i was good to go. Designer was pretty sure, had inbuilt anti-idiocy alarms all around to warn the rider about the perils of an endurance marathon except one “NOT FOR LONG RIDES” written in bold capitals, however…………….did i just tell you i am ‘Pigheaded’? Well then, even Hidalgo, an American mustang wasn’t quite suited for the endurance run in Arabia.

I wasn’t in a mood for a warming up, I took the lad on one of the world’s toughest track, Kishtwar to Killar, that Pangi Valley ride, the bloke stamped it’s reliability all over the eleven day route from Delhi through Punjab, Himachal, Jammu and Kashmir and back to Delhi. The ride was hard on my back, shoulders and specifically my wrists owing to the forward bending design of the cafe racer, well someone had to pay for the idiocy. GT proved itself and did bulwark my lunacy to take it further the Hidalgo story had started and started off rather well notwithstanding the stiff muscles that followed for about a week.

After Pangi valley the next two rides, Delhi to Chakrata and Delhi to Jaisalmer didn’t really find much relevant space in my memory though still would share some pictures to kindle your imagination, well this turns out to be a photo log perhaps.

That steed gave me a belly full of memories and filled my living room with some pictures to look back at for a lifetime, I was in love already and wouldn’t mind the tough ride and the ache that came along, nevertheless the ride sure wasn’t pretty snug as a bug in a rug comfortable, I knew I was going hard on myself though that steed won’t give up. I still wanted to stretch that affair to the pinnacle of it and write the epilogue of my Hidalgo story, I decided to do a Lahaul and Spiti Valley circuit starting and ending it at Rajasthan.

That 535 CC heart was was sufficient to pump enough adrenaline through my veins to keep up with my insanity, that gelding never let me down though I pushed it to an ‘out of turf’ battle, he won every day. Perhaps was time for me to go easy on myself and the machine, I’d let that be a regulation city ride from now on, going to be over 40 my back too called for a little respite. I turned to check out the up-gunned cousin of my reliable bike, an Interceptor 650, the bike had some retro simplicity that appealed and some easy ergonomics to go along as well. Heart skipped a beat, she’s the latest fling and I am sure would be easy on my back too, took a test ride, she was a stunner, handled easy and zipped on a little nudge. She was capable to tread those Himalayan tracks and allowing me a delightful riding pleasure, she wouldn’t be an outlander in that adventure turf she’d just be at home but then….that won’t be a Hidalgo story, that’s been written and written rather well, my Hidalgo has done his bit and that novelette wouldn’t be written again, rides would go on and tales would be told, that zeal would always be owed to my ‘Reliable Stallion

Aren’t we at war already, what are you running from?

War! well my friend, you are not interested in that heinous act, war is interested in you, that’s on a prowl, scouting your streets. The callow ones wouldn’t agree though, the war is ubiquitous, its everywhere and it is biting you nimble and there are those cunning ones who wouldn’t let you feel the pain till you bleed out the last ounce of life.

Unfortunately, India doesn’t have to look for military lessons outside, we have had a lot of strategies applied on us in the history. Mughals came with just about 9000 horsemen, British came with a ship as traders yet they ruled us fully. Ruled the subcontinent capturing state by state piecemeal and they in fact were assisted by our own. That’s just one strategy we are talking about, “exploit the divide”. Question remains, did we learn our lessons?

You just can’t live past the history without being a part of it! Whether or not military was involved in a particular chapter of History, nation’s history is undeniably it’s own.
It’s unfortunate that in our system of schooling, any part of history with slight Military involvement is left only for the Armed Forces to read and study.

1948 was a war Pakistan imposed on us and entered Kashmir to occupy before the Maharaja could request India for help, sure enough India could only counterattack and defend eventually leaving a major chunk of landmass with the attacker, dispute there wasn’t and it was manufactured, Jammu and Kashmir’s state forces were subverted and muslim troops joined Pakistani raiders in butchering own brothers in arm. The same religious divide was exploited in 1980s resulting in the exodus of Kashmiri Pundits.

Pakistani raiders raped and looted their way to shalatang, outskirts of Srinagar, raping, killing and looting with no regards to the religion of the victims whatsoever, Muslims were not spared. 1st Battalion the Sikh regiment landed at old airport, Srinagar on request of the Maharajah of Kashmir and started expanding out clearing the raiders, 4th Battalion, the Kumaon Regiment lost its brave including Major Somnath Sharma, PVC (posthumously) at Shalatang. Our brave gave their blood to keep those raiders from raping and looting any further and eventually were able to regain much lost ground till the present day LOC. India was not the one who attacked or occupied, it was called for help and Jammu and Kashmir legally joined Indian union. Now, much of that remains only in the military domain of knowledge and that’s the reason our young generation of Indians is in fact buying the lie that India is the invader, an occupier much against the wishes of the locals, thats a lie told over a thousand times and it now echoes in your ears as truth. So much for Ignoring everything with a little Olive hue.

Society will only learn a lesson if it reads the history as thoroughly as those who are trying to exploit the same divide even now, i will just leave it at that, lets analyze the present.

Pulwama, a small town in Kashmir valley is in the common know for brutal killing of CRPF personnel and so is the Nationalist-Antinational debate owing to the incident. This is not the first time Pakistan has provided the ‘nuclear’ threat as an armour to Jihadists against possible ramifications. Pakistan is a known enemy and would continue to remain so in foreseeable future, it is not heading towards a trillion dollar economy but sure enough it is heading towards a suicidal explosion, why should that bothers someone, it doesnt really, but it plans to take us down in that suicidal explosion and that should be of concern to us. Kashmir is just symbolic, the fight is on the ideology, Pakistan was formed on a theocratic principle of Islam and two nations theory originating from it. It cannot stand the idea of a nation state with democracy surviving despite ethnic/religious differences and India represents exactly that. Pakistan directly or indirectly supports all insurgencies in India from Nagaland in east to Punjab in the west, Punjab in particular is important to discuss as Khalistani ideology has been considerably revived in recent years.

You think khalistan ideology revived on its own?

The youth today, shackled in the daily fight to find employment and make better living in an upwardly mobile corporate culture doesn’t have time for a read into the history to base his perception on unless that is part of the curriculum and we fail as a society when we keep military history out of the domain of knowledge acquisition mandatory for academic ladder.

BHIMA KOREGAON RIOT : THE WAR TAKEN TO YOUR STREETS

Pulwama or no Pulwama, India loses good men fighting for its integrity in Kashmir, Northeast or wherever need arises and given our neighborhood this is likely to continue and the situation is going to turn to more hybrid, non linear battle where the enemy would plan to take the fight to your streets, exploiting the racial, ethno-religious, caste and ideological divides. That perhaps has already started, you cannot afford to leave the core of the nation soft and pulpy as you secure the boundaries, that is a vulnerability any worthy adversary would salivate for, war gentlemen we are in already and we’d do well to recognise and understand the design. While I say that and would like that to reach maximum ears I do not subscribe to xenophobic war mongering, I’d just urge my countrymen to read, understand the history which stands calling, trying to narrate lessons for us, don’t let that calling fall on deaf ears. Military history is pretty much your history, the lessons aren’t just relevant for the military, they are a haunting if we as a society aren’t prepared even now!

This nation is a nation state, belongs to all notwithstanding the religion, that’s our strength and the divides are weakness, a khalistan, a nagalim, a Mahar vs Maratha, upper-lower caste conflict, Aryan vs Dravidian or any other divide would just be another nail in our coffin, enemy doesn’t need soldiers today, our useful idiots provide unpaid manpower to him and are pretty effective as well, understanding this design would go well in ensuring a better future. Any further division of this nature won’t auger well for anyone but the adversary, he’d love to see you getting eaten piecemeal. Something that Mughals and Brits did, alas we don’t learn our lessons!

EVM bashing and the Venus fly trap ……..that’s some fascination!!

Venus fly trap ……..that’s some fascination!! So is anarchy

wanted to pour my ire out on the ineptitude with which cretins of the revolutionary ideology are lining up behind the pied Piper on his way to anarchy, that man rides on the promise of a change.
Change, well, Anarchy is quite an inviting one, that has taken a considerable population of lamebrains half way down the alley to disorder.

An old niggling commoner driving an auto-rickshaw too believes Pulwama was an inside job, that dimwit didn’t even know where Pulwama was but he was firm in his belief that it was an inside job, the ideology of a “change” has kindled such a sinister perception, minions don’t even know what that ideology is leading to.

That has led you half way into anarchy and sure enough, it is revolutionary to you, keep at it, the trap is lucrative……..what’s in a trap if that ain’t lucrative??

Venus fly trap, ever heard of it???

Venus flytrap, well that’s inviting for the ones who aren’t in it already and once in, it really doesn’t matter, you’re dead anyway. An advertisement i did find relevant in recent times said “the streets are filled with idiots”, that really nailed it, idiocy of lining up behind the pied piper marching to anarchy is pretty palpable these days, so apparent that you can actually smell that obnoxiousness around the country. Strayed a bit from my narrative, did i ? perhaps, well then, lets get back to the fly trap. Fly trap seems lucrative, definitely something that certain little creatures feel like flirting with, the smell of it or the vibrant color thats inviting, irresistibly inviting and a certain death hides behind that fascination. Revolution for an undefined change, thats fascination as well and one would do well to know the perils before getting consumed by it.

Order, thats what the civilizations breathe on, disorder is strangulation that kills them. India as a nation or perhaps few privileged ones from the society chose an order and that was democracy way back in 1950 as the constitution came into effect, the nation has been crawling, walking, chugging along since then in some relative order and came a pretty long way to be able to launch its own satellites, be the fourth strongest nation in the world and then breed enough freedom to have people shouting “Bharat tere tukde…” whatever that was, while feeding on the taxpayer’s money. Maan! that’s some freedom of speech! here again i tend to stray a bit going on a tangent owing to my personal anguish against that particular strain of freedom, ill get back to the subject then, order it is and in this case it is democracy, the chosen way of bringing and maintaining the order.

Democracy isn’t a lynch town, it can’t go shooting people to make them stay within regulations, democracy has institutions, for the people, by the people, of the people. You heard it right people, it is you who make the institutions in a democratic nation and the institutions have to be respected. Institutions bring order in a democracy, Armed Forces, Election Commission, Judiciary they are the institutions and not individuals, nor some political party either. They were meant to be held in high respect and yet recent past has seen people with little credentials or perhaps some thousand Youtube followers dragging the institutions for a dual in their filthy slush.

Nations with strong armies, healthy democracies, functional institutions and thriving economies can’t just be killed easy, adversaries have to inject a rot or perhaps find a rot to nurture it. The rot has been injected, it is being nursed, the credulous has bought that idea of suspecting the institutions.

They were put on records saying “soldiers are being slaughtered for votes” that gentlemen, is a huge statement and demonic too. Is it Idi Amin’s Uganda? come on, this nation has a democratically elected government and one with decent enough respect in the United Nations and other world forums. That lie about Pulwama has been spoken and i tell you it has been bought too by certain ill-informed cretins. Spoken by some lunatic is okay, the issue of that being accepted by some is where the Pandora’s box opens. India has a disciplined, organized and trained army but the army is only as good as the morale is, now imagine a situation where that sinister lie makes an in-road to the perception of the people serving in the army which is fighting since 1948 whether you admit or not. That is killing of an institution and that is subversion. This is exactly what warring nations have done as part of propaganda against each other since the time the very first war was fought.

Surgical strikes or any other name you have for the tactical action by the air-force or the army did happen and happened in the same intensity as spoken about by my government, my armed forces. I am a nation loving citizen and my institution has conveyed about a certain action about which that institution has the best knowledge, i am not even qualified enough to question leave aside willingly buying Pakistan’s narrative on that. Pakistan, the nation who has it’s entire plan of imposing a Low Intensity Conflict on India based on deniability, why would that nation not deny a conventional action by Indian armed forces when it clearly knows it cannot afford to get into a conventional dual with India? Low Intensity Conflict is its domain, it does not want to escalate to conventional war, it just cannot afford it and returning Wing Commander Abhinandan was an action to de-escalate the situation and an opportunity walk out with honour for Pakistan, sure enough their Prime Minister delivered a speech full of magnanimity. Choice of what narrative to buy was still mine and i had my belief in my national institutions intact. Yet, certain hemp vaping revolutionaries peddled that Pakistani lie in our nation, became their vehicle of door to door marketing as that suited their agenda too, who cares for the nation? You believed the enemy and helped his propaganda, its subversion. period.

Next institution and the one most significant for a healthy democracy is the Election Commission, you the coughing and the winking revolutionaries did not spare even that one. Now you have a narrative ready to blame election commission for the loss, political minnows too are making statements against the integrity of the election commission. is the loss so tough to gulp? Haven’t people lost elections in the past?. Aren’t your narratives killing the healthy democratic nation?

And you, the citizen of the nation, what are you looking at? buying those lies, do you even know what that all leads to, its anarchy my friend, the end of the order that the nation breathes on, call is yours. let it breath or strangulate it to the certain death. That un-called for suspicion against the institutions is a revolution too if you call it, that revolution arising out of way too free speech is lucrative, so is that Venus fly trap.

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!


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

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.