Idlis for Headley

India is trying hard to get 26/11 mastermind David Headley to India. The US doesn't seem to budge from the so called 'agreement' that it made with the terrorist, by which they wouldnt hand him over to India if he confesses to be guilty. And India is in no mood to let go. The officials of the concerned ministry been heating up their heads thinking of ways to extradite the accused. They say the decision of US to not extradite Headley goes against the treaties signed between the two countries. Not surprising, considering the fact that US never had this habit of honouring the treaties that it has signed.

Seeing all this busy action on the Headley front, one major question that comes to mind is, "what will India do withHeadley?" All this urgency to bring him to India makes us think that we are going to cut him into pieces the moment we get our hands on him. Alas! past experiences points in the exact opposite direction. We all know what we did with the one we caught alive. We started the courtroom drama "kyunki terrorist bhi kabhi human tha", which will complete its anniversary soon. Its sure to go on for many more years and may break the record of the longest running K-serials. The hero is given z-category security, chicken biriyani etc. There's a special subscription of cosmopolitan and the banned savita bhabhi comics for his private rocket launching needs. There was a proposal to supply him call gals too. And we even built him a 5 crore worth steel chamber, with the aim of 'protecting' him. We spent 32 crores for him in one year. And, considering all this...Do we really need to spent another 30 crores on protecting yet another terrorist? If the Govt is not planning to cut him into 1000 pieces or burn him alive or torture him to the 10th degree or cut his organs and blind him, Please dont try to bring him here. We don't have the patience to see yet another long drawn court drama. Please don't serve idlis to Headley.

your crusader Praveen

The Green Flag

It was one of those railway stations where very few people came. And where only one of those odd trains stopped. One of those unremarkable stations with broken benches and the worn down office of the station master. For 40 years, I waved the green flag here. It was like a ritual. Looking at the timetable and then strolling out from the office to the platform with the green flag. Its a ritual nobody other than me cared about. Once in a while a curious kid points at me from the second class compartment and says something to his father. At other times, some old man just stares at me from the window, sometimes adjusting his glass to get the focus right. These are the only attention I've got in this lonely job. Sometimes, hapless wanderers do come in from far away places, with thirsty eyes and hungry stomachs. And it has been a part of my duty to give them something to eat and provide them shelter until they are good to wander again.

Now, 30 years since I last waved the flag, as I sit alone here, as an antique piece held up by worn down bones and displaying lines and cracks all over my face, I feel like one of those wanderers whom I gave shelter many years back. Though I could barely see even with my glasses, I could feel the changing colours of wheels inside the weighing machine falling on my eyes. Those olden days when my son Mihir made me take his weight on this machine every other day, came to my mind. There was a field of kans grass close to the station. Mihir used to run from our home through the fields as the trains passed, very much like that classic scene from 'Pather 'panchali'. Satyajit Ray must've been inspired from our little station and Mihir's run while he created that scene. In those days, I never once did have an idea that one day I'll be sitting at this very station like a useless furniture. This very station which once came to life only because of me. I haven't uttered a word in the last many years. I can hardly see. I can move only with other's help. But Mihir didn't seem to know that I had so much of life left in me when he left me here and went to the city with his family. He didn't seem to know that I still had a heart which loved him and his family. He didn't seem to know that my tears don't need anyone else's help to flow down. I could feel some currency that he left in my lap so that someone will take it and help me. If only that money could buy someone to put his hand around me and say, "I love you papa and I shall never leave you".

I could easily show the red flag to my life if I jump into the rails in my white shirt. But, as always I chose to live rather than bring poetic tragedy to this story. I fell asleep with the help of the cold winter winds. I couldn't do anything to stop the trembling and later got used to it. Someone's hand around me woke me up in the morning. I could hardly make out who it was. Still, I felt reassured. I tried feeling the face. The clues were not coming by. I was searching in the dark until he told me about a cold wintery night almost five decades back. One of those rare wanderers made his appearance in the station that day. A kid of about seven years. And as was my habit, I fed him and gave him shelter. He left after staying for few days in the office. It was just one of the many similar incidents in my life. But for him, it was one unforgettable incident. And that few plates of food meant more to him, much more than a lifetime of sacrifices meant for my Mihir. He held me up with his strong hands and led me carefully to the gates. I could hear the thud-thud of a train approaching. I almost raised up my right hand and waved the imaginary green flag.

your crusader Praveen

Year 2125-33% reservation for men!

The Blames of India(BOI) dated 12th March 2125 reports that this is going to be a landmark election in the history of India. For the first time in 50 years, men are allowed to contest in the elections. The last man to contest in the election was Bingo Gandhi, Rahul Gandhi's son-in-law who won by a mammoth margin in the elections of 2076. In that year, India proudly announced to the world that its doing away with caste and religion based reservation thus ushering in a new golden era. Instead, the reservations will be completely based on the gender. The seat reservations in Parliament were as follows.

Women-68%
Eunuchs-18%
[Train based eunuchs-10%
traffic light based eunuchs-5%
street based eunuchs-2%
home based eunuchs-1%]
Gays-5%
lesb-5%
Bi-1%
morphed swamis-2%
men-1%

It all started way back in 2009 with a proposal for 33% reservation for women in Parliament. Infact, the idea was there even before that. But the actions necessary for it to come into force started only in 2009. Although there was a lot of opposition from septugenarian and octogenarian male leaders, the idea of empowerment of women seemed too romantic to resist for most of the parties. It was said that this 33% bill will help the lady fish vendor, the old servant lady and even the happless prostitutes. Stories of how women in every strata of the society will be empowered by this simple 33% reservation in parliament, were doing the rounds. And to grab eyeballs, there were those oft repeated stories of women soaring high, from being an aircraft pilot to thenga ideel(malayalam for felling of coconuts by climbing up the coconut tree, which is usually done by men). And most of the times the second part of the thenga ideel story where the woman falls down along with the coconut, was conveniently forgotten.

The bill was passed with much fanfare. Men waited impatiently for their daughters and wives to become MPs and airhostesses or atleast a thenga ideelukaari. Sadly, the changes were not so visible. The surnames of the women MPs remained the same. The same families exported MPs year after year. Some parties fielded rubber stamp candidates of the ilk of 'Rabri Devi' to fill up their women quota. These women almost always won and most of them used to do a Puja of the icon of uselessness and rubber stampdom, Prathibha Patil, every morning before the Parliament session. The lady fish vendor was still selling fish(Infact her grand daughter is now a famous fish vendor too), the servant lady was still doing her chores and the prostitute taking enough actions and policies for 'customer satisfaction'. And banner headlines on the empowered women routinely came on most dailies.

For more empowerment, the percentage of reservation for women was gradually increased. Also, reservations were brought in for marginalised sections like eunuchs, gays etc. The male MPs gradually began losing their jobs. They came back to their hometowns and started doing work which were usually done by women. This newly arrived male workforce resulted in most of the women(except MPs) losing their jobs. Thus the Indian women was truely empowered. By 2078, men were completely driven out of the Parliament. And more poor women lost their jobs. For the next 40 odd years, there was a clamour from the women of India for 33% reservation for men in Parliament. The moustache sporting women inside Parliament strongly refused. But, when push came to shove, they gave in and thus in the elections of 3025, men are finally making a comeback. The 33% reservation for men is still pending for approval from both houses. Prominent women leaders like Mulayam Devi and Lalooni Prasad are strongly opposing the bill. We can just hope that men will atleast make a comeback to the Parliament which they once ruled and ruined...And also hope that atleast then women of the ilk of 'baalika vadhu' and 'never-been-screwed granny' will be truely empowered.

PS- Am not an MCP. Just that I believe this 33% sham's not gonna make the desired change

PPS- Had a tough time writing the president's name. I had completely forgotten her name and had to think for 3 minutes to get it. Tells a lot about our president

your crusader Praveen

Milking suicides

Its the suicide season yet again. I don't mean those unremarkable suicides which end up as single column news in the obituary page. We are looking at those suicides which get national attention. This time its the Telengana issue. The floodgates were opened when a youth set himself on fire and succumbed to his wounds last monday. Three more people have committed suicide in the next 24 hours allegedly because of the Telengana issue. But a close look at the details of the deceased will reveal that this is a clear case of 'milking an unrelated suicide'. First one in the list is a class 10 student who committed suicide by consuming pesticide. There are enough reasons to believe that this suicide is for reasons other than Telengana. A class 10 student has more things to worry about than dying for such foolish causes. The other two teenagers left suicide notes purpotedly written by them saying that they are ending their life for the Telengana cause.

The reason to doubt the truthfulness of these claims is obviously because of what happened in Andhra after the death of former chief minister YSR. There was a huge wave of sympathy being whipped up about the tragic death of a 'great man'. According to the media, more than 60 people committed suicide because they couldn't bear this loss. But an investigation at that time did reveal that there's more to it than the 'sacrifice story' that we all so easily believed. Apparently, YSR's partymen went around the state in search of houses where suicides had happened around that time. And then they offered the surviving family members money just to paint these suicides as 'YSR related'. Even those who died of heart attack were said to have died because of the shock of YSR's death. The fact that YSR rose to power playing all kind of dirty games and goondaraj was conveniently forgotten as we were presented with a new HERO, for whom the masses took their own lives.

This new wave of suicides seems to be one in this direction. Suicide notes are being drafted in many undisclosed locations. And the hawks are waiting for the next suicide, to claim it as their own. We can only hope that the government wouldn't buckle under such manufactured pressure and cut our delicious cake into yet another piece.

your crusader Praveen

Master,I bow before thee

I've always believed calling a living person as GOD is not acceptable. God is something which can't be seen or touched, its something which can only be felt. But there are moments when even that strong resolve is broken. When you see a heavenly painting by an artist, when you see a brilliant guitarist ripping it apart in a concert arena, when you see men/women with a large heart helping millions of poor, when you hear a gifted musician at his peak, when you see a sportsman at his best...Yesterday was one of those days, which made me break that resolve and call Him GOD of cricket and fall at his feet.

Memories came rushing in as he crossed the 170 mark yesterday. The only source to know the score was the mobile and the 'secret' web page that our company forgot to block. And I was in the laundry after a fight with the security regarding a new idiotic 'policy' from the company. The wait for 200 took me back to school days, specifically to that innings of 186 not out against New zealand. We all crowded together in a house near our school. The drawing room was filled with us with the house owner craning his neck somewhere behind, just to catch a glimpse of that majestic innings. We watched almost the whole innings, bunking period after period and the lovable house owner played happy host. It was a small disappointment when he couldn't break Paki Anwar's record. We all went back hoping for the day when Sachin will score a 200. Almost a decade has passed since then. I can still recollect what all I did on a day when Sachin played majestic innings like this. Such innings of rare brilliance as the 98 against Pakistan in the 2003 world cup, when I rushed back from the maths tuition class to watch it from first ball. Many many days like that when all that mattered was Sachin scoring a century. Such is the influence he has on the life of an average Indian. A sad day at office or a boring day at school turned into an unforgettable day. Unremarkable days made remarkable and memorable for ever just because a man decided to unleash his genius on the cricket ground. Moments when sports ceases to be just that and becomes LIFE.

As he crossed 200, the phone started ringing non stop. Everyone wanted to share their joy with their near and dear ones. Among those calls were, two calls from friends in school whom I haven't talked to in a long time. But with whom I've watched many a matches in that house near school. And together we had waited for many a centuries and walked back dejected. Also have jumped together elated at many of his achievements. And it took Sachin again to take us back to those days, talk to each other and share the joy. Sachin is more than just a sportsman, He is a feeling that unites many a million minds. He united more Indians together, more than any RELIGION could. Somewhere down the line someone may overtake the 200, some may score 250. All those numbers may tumble one day. But, some things will remain unbroken...the feeling of unity that Sachin brings, the sheer batting perfection that he unleashed and that down to earth character. Taking it all in his stride, he marches on unchallenged, India's marathon man. 20 years, we graduated from lollipops to blackberrys...but He remains there, where he truely belonged...at the top...

PS-And all those critics can now shut up, FOREVER!
SO bye bye to Paki Anwar from the record books. Its been a pain seeing his name there on top!! :D

your crusader Praveen

fRock/cock in India:when backstreet boys come to India

A take on the rock scene in India....and why backstreet(gaystreet) boys SUCK bigtime!!!

We thought its a prank. Even after press releases and ADs, we refused to believe it. It sounded more like a prank rather than news. But, now with just one day remaining to the event, our worst fears are coming true. Indeed, now its clear that its not a prank that the mighty backstreet(gaystreet) boys are performing at India's one and only rock fest, 'Rock in India'. The hallowed Palace grounds which was host to some of the gods of rock and metal will be thrown open to a band which has come to be hated unanimously by rock fans all over the world. DNA, the organisers has done a sell out of epic proportions, unprecedented in rock history. Or perhaps, it will remain unmatched in future too.

It all started in the 2nd half of the last decade, the slow but sure rise of Indian rock. Rock bands were around in the country much before that, from the days of woodstock. But it was never known as a 'scene' outside the country. The odd international rock band did make its appearance during the 90s and the first half of this millennium. But there was something missing. There was a sudden explosion in the number of bands in the later half of the decade. It was not an isolated revolution. It was a sweeping one, literally from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. Would you believe that a small city like Trivandrum has more than 10 active bands? Then there are 'rock in the genes' kinda cities in the north east where there are more than 50 bands in each of them. And then there's the epicentre of it all, Bangalore. And with the advent of broadband internet and social networking platforms like myspace and facebook, it just exploded. From playing covers of international bands, Indian bands graduated to playing only original compositions. And the audience too matured with them and stopped screaming for covers. Infact, the crowd began singing along their original compositions at the concerts. Slowly, but surely, Indian rock found its feet.

DNA networks came as a godsend for the rock fans as they brought to India some of the best acts in the business. Back in 2007, when Iron Maiden came to India for the first time, 50,000 crazy fans filled up the arena. Bruce Dickinson and co. were overwhelmed by this response and visited us 2 more times in the next 2 years. In 2008, 'Rock in India' was born, a first of its kind fest in India featuring the legendary 'Megadeth' and 'Machine head' alongwith 9 other Indian bands. And in 2009, 'Iron Maiden' came back again to bless rock in India, though this time the support acts were below par. In between, the IITs brought in popular contemporary bands like 'opeth' and 'porcupine tree'. Then small rock fests began to emerge like the deccan rock fest featuring 'Amon amarth' and 'Textures'. We thought it couldn't get better. And towards the end of last year, DNA sent out a mail asking fans to select the bands which they want to see in 'Rock in India 2010'. It was a mouth watering list to say the least, boasting of bands like 'Slayer', 'judas priest' and 'Lamb of God'. We waited..impatiently..for 2010 to arrive.

Arrive it did, in the worst possible manner. DNA announced backstreet boys as headliners of Rock in India alongwith Richard Marx, a pop singer past 50, still singing songs about teen love. Nobody has a problem with them coming to India. But, why a rock fest?? That too, the only one the country can boast of. Agreed, even I did love their music while I was in school, before I realised how they are fooling us all. Its a band(not worthy to be called a band) which has never written a single line of lyrics on its own or composed its own music. Its all done by professionally hired men, whom you never get to see. All they do is lend their voices, which also is heavily processed to mask their lack of talent. The band was put together by a guy called Lou Pearlman, who wanted to convert his black money. And thus he created this band after a series of auditions and spent lavishly on the band. And, he did reap his benefits. He appointed the lyricists and producers. Yes, its not a typical band that came together because of their similar tastes in music. But a fraud man's brainchild to convert his black money. And all they sang about was love, broken hearts and the likes. All with mannerisms which caused them to be branded as a gay band. On stage, they lip synced. Nobody complained. Girls screamed out loud and their boy friends too screamed with them at the concerts. Its not for nothing its called POP. A corporate gimmick to manipulate popular culture to mint millions. And millions sang along, "I want it that way", the gay way, the lip syncing way, the sell out way. Its not a story of backstreet boys alone, but every other boy band. And most of their fans have grown out of that age and moved away to more mature music. Then, DNA tells India, 'surprise surprise..presenting before you, the backstreet boys live at Rock in India".

The Indian rock fans haven't taken this snub from DNA lightly. Head to any online forum, and you'll see hardcore fans ready to smoke the backstreet boys out of India. The Rock in India website was defaced twice. Renaming it 'Cock in India' and 'fRock in India'. Then there was the legendary Hitler youtube video where hitler comes to know about gayboys coming to the fest and all hell breaking loose. All we are asking for now is to change the name of the fest. Don't play with the self respect of the average Indian rock fan. Rock means much more than just the music. Its an ideology beyond money, religion and such things. Its origins can be traced to the protest music of the 60s. Sometimes its a call for revolution and sometimes its a call to break free. 'Rock in India' conjured up similar images and much more in us. It was a dream for many of us to one day see this fest becoming as big as 'Rock in Rio' or the 'download fest'. With this shameless sellout which the bosses at DNA described as "respecting the long standing demand for more commercial music from various quarters", those dreams lay shattered. And they say, its not a rock fest but a music fest and it will cater to music of all kinds. Then why the fucking hell you name it 'rock in India'? why not 'music in India' or 'pop in India'? Its an open secret that they wanted to popularise this fest among a 'different' kind of audience. But with this decision, they were digging their own grave. The previous times when they brought in pop acts like Enrique and Shakira for some independent fests, the crowd was maximum of about 5000. Whereas all the rock fests have somewhere around 30,000. Businesswise too, this is suicide. Another reason they are giving is that most of the international bands are on tour right now and many of them are also unaffordable. Give me a break guys! There are 1000s of bands available. Don't go for the big ticket acts if you don't have the money. Just give us a fest of Indian bands alone. Or just dont conduct the fest this year. Wait till your financial situation becomes better next year(which I doubt now).

Even more sad is the fact that some Indian bands have actually agreed to open for backstreet boys, which includes 2 bands I admire, 'swarathma' and 'Indigo children'. When I conveyed to 'swarathma' about our displeasure at such a promising band doing a sell out, what I got was a robotic reply saying "we dont care about who plays before or after us...come if you respect us". No band worth their self respect would agree to play at such a fest and here we have these guys talking about us respecting them. SHAME! Frankly, am thinking of destroying their CD though I love the songs. Already, there are talks of protest marches by rock fans at the 2 venues, Delhi and Bangalore. And there are every chances of small riots. And even a chance of some people actually buying the tickets to get in and throw bottles at Backstreet boys. I only pray that they get a really bad reception so that no pop band will ever think of visiting India. And its time the corporate assholes at DNA learned a lesson or two. Never mess with Indian rock fans. And thanks to these widespread protests, the Indian metal fans have come in for appreciation in various international rock forums. Hopefully more bands will be attracted to this wonderful audience here. Rock is not a passing fad, unlike pop. You'll never get to hear a dialogue like, "I used to listen to metallica in college". Once a rock fan is always a rock fan. You dont leave it behind and move on to other music as you leave the teens(which is the case with pop bands). DNA has betrayed such a loyal fan base. Their move is against the very idea for which rock stands for. DNA can better quit event management and go for PIMPING. Even pimps have more self respect. So, rock fans of India...raise your middle fingers in unison to the pimping corporation that is DNA. Let anarchy rule. Let gaystreet boys run for their life...\m/

and for rock in India 2010...the metal symbol becomes /m\ ..picturise it, what it conveys! :)

your crusader Praveen

Diplomacy? come again!

If someone were to talk about me, diplomacy is one word which would never make an appearance. Its one thing I've never believed in life. And its one thing which this blog too is not known for. Saying 'it sucks' when it really does SUCK won't be a big problem if you don't believe in this sham called diplomacy. It can cause some short term problems like backlash in the form of 'you too suck' or 'your wife sucks'. Some other times it can result in a broken nose or a blinded eye. But still you can live with the satisfaction of having said what you wanted to(considering the backlash dont get you killed). Diplomacy is just another form of hypocrisy. Most of the time you might be saying "I want to kick the hell out of you" in your mind while you just blurt out "This warm handshake does solve a lot of problems."

Diplomacy is the buzzword doing the rounds in India these days. That is, giving a rose when Pakis give us gunshots. Its the only way forward, we are told. Now what if the opposite was the only way forward. Talking what we feel is right rather than hiding behind carefully constructed rubbish statements. Some scenarios...

India-Pak dialogue

Zardari-"Lets talk peace"
Manmohan-"Shut up you piece of s**t"
Zardari-"Lets delink the terrorism issue from the dialogues"
Manmohan-"what the bloody hell is there left to talk after that"
Zardari-"Whats happening on the aman ki asha front?"
Manmohan-"Aman and Asha both ran around a tree at the speed of light. And both got f***ed royally.IN THE A**"


Husband-Wife

1.Wife-"Dont I look slim after today's 2 minute workout?Guess I lost 2 KGs"

Diplomatic husband-"I bet you lost more than 2. Infact your tummy looks even flatter than our TV."[In the mind, thinking of the old big bellied TV at the ancestral home)

Undiplomatic Husband-"Hahhaa, what a joke! Thats almost like 8 months pregnancy. Did you work out by eating those rock like idlis you make?"

2. Wife-"Honey, is this dress too sexy for office?"

Diplomatic husband-"Its ok dear. Anything fits you and you can carry it off well"

Undiplomatic Husband-"Am happy. In this hippie like dress where all your ugliness is revealed, no one will dare even look at you twice"




A client call at dildomys corporation

Client-"whats the status?"

Diplomatic PPPM(Paavam Pallu kozhinja Project Manager which means poor toothless PM)-"A case study is being conducted on the many ways the files that you supplied can be analysed. We've 2 resources available here to work on it after the case study. We are thinking of leveraging the advantage that we have in the PAVA platform so as to arrive at an optimal solution of the case study in the given time frame.

Client- Oho...

Undiplomatic SSSSSE(Senior Sexy Supervising Sucked to the core Software engineer)-"In simple words, we still haven't started because the input you send is a load of bulls**t."

Client(guess he's a diplomat too)-"really, what are you talking about? I dont get you"

Diplomatic PPPM-"There's been a confusion regarding the feasibility of using the inputs that you send.
The platorms and the standards of the (blah blah blah blah blah)x 10+(glah clah vlah chlah)x5"

Client-Oh. is that so?so, when can you get it delivered?EOD?

Undiplomatic SSSSSE-"Man, get a life. Correct yourself first. Dont waste time calling...avante oru EOD!!


At the appraisal discussion

Appraiser Mr.Ponnappan- Aaah well, Mr.Sebastein, Yours been a wonderful performance throughout the year.
Appraisee Mr.Sebastein(undiplomatic to the core)-As if I didn't know.
Ponnappan-You are in a real tough peer group.
Sebastein-I know what is coming.
Ponnappan-I am very much impressed with your result oriented approach. It also came in for special mentionm from the client side.
Sebastein-Tell me something that I dont know
Ponnappan-But your TL tells me that you are not interested in your work.
Sebastein-When did that moron learn mind reading?
Ponnappan-And also that you spend a lot of time on blogs and communicator.
Sebastein-Tell that loser to look at my work.
Ponnappan-But see sebastein, the thing is there are only a specific number of people that we can fix at any rating level. So its like a balancing act.
Sebastein-Cut out the jargon and come to the point.
Ponnappan-I wanted to place you in 1. But I had to go for mandanraj because he doesn't blog.
Sebastein-So am at 2?
Ponnappan-I wanted to place you in 2. But I had to give it to kundankumar because he doesn't use office communicator.
Sebastein-Better tell me straigh that am screwed.
Ponnappan-We have lots of free space in 3 and you are best fit there.
Sebastein-Now where should I fit you? All you do is fiddle with those useless excel sheets and roam around barking jargons. Take this you LOSER(gets out showing a raised finger) :)

So speak your mind. Dont hide behind words which you dont mean to say. Show the finger to diplomacy. Get slapped. Get bruised. Be proud!

your crusader Praveen

The permission granters

Some recent happenings in India reminds me of the olden golden days in school. The first complete sentence(or rather a question) I learned in LKG was "Tecaher, may I go to toilet?" Yeah, pissing was a favorite passtime. Many times the teacher would say, "No, you have to wait till the end of this period". Only if she knew some of my organs has a mind of its own. And the second sentence I learned was "May I come in teacher?" Suffice to say, this was all the english I learned the first few years in school. Now, coming to the matter, two days back Sharad Pawar was seen begging to Shiv Sena chief Bal thackerey, "Balasaheb, May I call aussies to play in the IPL?" And what does the toothless old tiger say with a cat-like roar? "No Sharad. Wait. Let me think and decide in two days". And so it is. The nation waits with bated breath to hear the verdict of a man, who should've been thrown out from the country in the first place.

We have such a long list of permission granters, the ones who call themselves patriarchs or whatever fancy name that comes to their mouth. Come valentine's day, and we'll again be witness to the annual ritual of burning cards, beating couples etc. In this case, even if you ask the saffron brigade for permission to celebrate, they wont give you. Its a question of their ideology(or rather lack of it) that they are not ready to tolerate any deviation. As I said in this blog last year this time, they are India's biggest gay rights activists. Yeah, you won't believe it, they'll beat even the fans of backstreet boys(or gaystreet boys, to be precise), in being the rightful rulers of the Indian gay kingdom.

If you head down to Kerala, you can't do anything without getting the red brigade's permission. A tea shop owner in Calicut learned the lesson the hard way, for not asking their permission before serving tea to Rahul Gandhi. The next day after Rahul's visit, the tea shop was closed down by the red men from the panchayat, citing the low quality of water. Yeah, they are not be blamed. He should've atleast asked them before serving tea to Rahul. If you get their permission, you can even get away with murder. Infact, they'll protect you. In Tamil Nadu, you'll have to get the permission of organisations like PMK before naming your film. English names are a strict no-no. And tamil names shouldn't be offensive to any of the million castes in the state.

Then there are our human rights activists. Before shooting a terrorist, its better to ask their permission. Else, you are surely gonna be pulled up for human rights violation. If you are a cricketer, before playing a shot, you better ask one of those million critics who never played cricket. They'll tell you if its right to play that shot at that particular juncture. Even if you are Sachin himself, you better follow this rule. But, amidst all this variety of permission granters stand the one and only undisputed one of the breed- Sonia Gandhi. Taking sychophancy to THE FAMILY to the next level, we have leaders of every shade asking her permission before arriving at decisions of any kind. The permission granter of permission granters.

your crusader Praveen

Year 2013

Yes, the earth is still turning. And all the alarmists who predicted THE END to happen one year back have gone into damage control mode saying that the clock at the 'Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change'(IPCC) was actually going anti clockwise. Self proclaimed climate man R.K.Pachauri was seen visiting the local watch repair shop in Himalaya. He now says that the deadline of 2035 that he set for the Himalayan ice to melt was not far from the mark. Just that he missed a worthless zero from the right side. And also his watch doesnt show the year.

'Dimes of India' is still the preferred newspaper in my home because of the 4 sheets of 'Bangalore dimes' filled up with hot pics of leading actresses. Now, with the government opening up media rights by framing more laws, we get to see a minimum of one nude pic a day in this four page supplement which is a staple read in some of the bachelor bathrooms here. Still, allegations of pictures copied from flickr pages persisted. And to stay connected with the roots, we still subscribed to the malayalam newspaper. As the 'Bangalore dimes' took its turns in the bathroom, the main newspapers will be lying useless in the couch.
Once in a while, I used to run through it and all it has given me is agony. You guys in 2010 will be happy to know that there wont be 'page 3' in 2013, just like there's no building 13 in some of the corporate houses. Instead, we have all the page 3 shifted to page 1. Today's lead news is about Speedika doublecone's 101st boyfriend and how they are planning to break up. The 40th part in the "My name is.." series is releasing this Friday. The series which started way back in 2010 with "My name is chan" stands out because the director-lead actor duos are all gay couples. The latest in the series is known as "My name is bland" directed by Karan blowhar and starring Humpman Khan. Bhetan Chagat has written his 9th book titled '69 positions', the title of which is inspired from the hard work he had to do for getting the proper credits in the movie adaptation of his previous book, directed by Karan blowhar.

The 2nd page has many ADs inviting tenders for various awards. You can be the best in whatever you want, provided you have the money. Sam Anderson won the national award for best actor after winning the auction last year. Ajmal Kasab was given Padmashri for 5 years of exemplary performance in Indian courts. Many other awards are on sale including the best in any category imaginable. There are separate columns for winners to indulge in self congratulation. Golit Toddy, the IPL commisioner says he'll run for president. Pakistani players are still not allowed to play in IPL. Chacrook Khan was seen shedding crocodile tears for not allowing them to play. "They should've atleast let kkkkkkkamran akkkkkmal play", he was seen saying. Afridi bit 3 stumps and the pitch at Lahore ground, in anger. The pitch was left with 3 big holes.

The obituary page is not my favourite. As I gave a passing glance, I saw a familiar face. Yes, its me. I checked again. Yeah, its me. It seems I died yesterday due to prolonged illness. No, wait...I have to wait till morrow's paper, because 'clarifications' are the order of the day. And yes , it came the following day- "Mr.xxx(yeah, thats me) is still alive. We regret the wrong information. We'll let you know as soon as he dies. Sorry for the inconvenience." Anyway my case is better than my neighbour Mr.yyy who has already died 4 times in the last one year. Thanks to the clarifications, he's still alive.

PS- Sad at the untimely demise of the gifted malayalam actor and scriptwriter Cochin Haneefa. May his soul rest in peace. The ugly episode yesterday, of the media announcing his death many hours before the actual happening made me write this post. Hungry for breaking news? Why not kill yourself and break the news first?

your crusader Praveen

Silent World

I could see it all. The tall guy charging towards the poor man with all his fury. The impatient crowd of passerbys waiting in anticipation at the prospect of some free of cost vicarious pleasure. The shopkeeper stopping his calculations midway and getting out of the store for a better view. The motorist braking suddenly and then peering over the crowd. And then the poor man himself, his face showing a million colours of fear. I watched as the blow landed on his face, distorting it slightly. I stopped my photography brain from thinking about the high speed camera possiblities of this moment. I saw him opening his mouth and screaming wild. I didn't hear anything. Not the sound of the crowd, not the scream of the man, not the engines of the passing vehicles. It was like watching a mime. Yes, I am a member of the species called the 'ipod generation'. The turn of the millennium saw the birth of our generation. White wires coming out from the pockets, moving all the way up our body to our ears differentiate us from the previous generations. We've it plugged on everywhere, in the bus, at the restaurant, in office, in the closet, just about everywhere. Its just like a part of our body. And for us, the world is like what you saw in the above scene, silent.

As I woke up the next day, the music was still going on, as I usually keep a long playlist. And as usual, I didn't hear mom's calls to wake up and drink coffee. Yes, a cold coffee is one of the obvious happenings in our silent world. But I do argue with mom on the dust prevention capabilities of the earphone. 'A little dust wont make you deaf, but this plug can do that', she used to say. Taking a bath was not one of my favorite things, as it takes me out from the silent world. As I walked out in the shabby jeans, grandma had a puzzled look on her face. A relic from the past's disdain of youthful brashness or whatever it is. I didn't hear her coughing hard and asking me to buy some medicines. I saw her lips moving as I wheeled out my bike, but as I said earlier I hate to get out of the silent world. I gave 2 more kicks after the engine started. The kicker is used to that. The big doberman next door was wagging his tail and barking silently as I rode on.

Today am not in a mood to go to office. And what I do in those moments is head to the beach. Today was no different. The sun was hiding behind the clouds and so the sand was not smoking hot as was the usual case at this time. I sat there and looked around. Barring a man who was sitting far away on the rocks, the beach was deserted. What else do you expect to see on a working day in a not so famous beach, I asked myself. These questions which I ask myself are the only things I hear because these dont need the ears to hear. The waves were crashing against the rocks a little far away. Today, my silent world is having a lot of noise, all coming from inside me. The sea always stirs up my thoughts. Yesterday's scenes had shaken me a bit. Now I know how silent movies made an impact back in the 1920s. I sat there thinking about the general aloofness of our generation. How easily we turn our backs to other's sufferings. How easily we close our eyes to injustice. Less said about our perpetually closed ears, the better.

All the thinking was starting to drive me nuts. The sea was not providing me any solace today. I walked back to my bike and thats when I saw the man sitting on the rocks, the poor man who got beaten badly yesterday. There were bruises all over his face and it was evident that he didn't clean it or dress it up. I stared for sometime and then walked on with the same coldness that has come to symbolize our geneation. Kick. Start. Zoom. Again, on the endless highway. The mind was still disturbed. Thoughts collide into each other and create unwanted noise in my perfect world. A mind not used to thinking was finding this hard. I didn't see that big tanker lorry coming in the wrong side. The thoughts stopped colliding as the world around me stopped for an instant. The bike flew up in the air as I was flung head first on to the footpath. I saw blood. I saw red. I screamed. I didn't get any response from the silent world. My eye lashes almost met, for the final time. I saw someone walking by. A flicker of hope. I strained hard to look up to his face. He didn't turn. I could make out that familiar white wire. Yes, he belonged to the ipod generation. The owner of a mind, as cold as my now cold dead body...

pic courtesy-wired.com

your crusader Praveen