Monday, 31 August 2015

Respect For The Indian Armed Forces

Disclaimer: The author of this post does not intend to disrespect anyone from the Indian Armed Forces and appreciates the sacrifices they make for the country and the risk-laden lives they lead. The author also doubts whether the Indian Armed Forces deserves the ‘glorification’ they receive and is merely stating a question rather than strongly opining against them. 

They keep us safe. They fight our enemies. They die for the country. They go through rigorous trainings and develop near impossible skill sets to function the way they do. They sacrifice a normal life to ensure regular citizens like me can live in peace. They survive in uninhabitable conditions and truly define what ‘discipline’ means. 

All of the things mentioned above are true, right? So the Indian Armed Forces do deserve the respect they get. Or not?

My problem is more with the civilians than the Armed Forces themselves. The civilians are the ones who have put the Armed Forces up on a pedestal. Showing respect is one thing but glorifying takes it to another level, which is where they lose me. 

I’m pretty sure everyone in the Indian Armed Forces is just doing their job sincerely, trying to make it through a tough day, working hard for their country and their families, and making sure that we get to sleep at night peacefully. Well, maybe not everybody. I’m pretty sure even the Indian Armed Forces is not perfect. But I’m not going to hold that against them. 

But… But, wait. Is it only the Indian Armed Forces doing the things I just mentioned? Don’t you also do that? Let’s say you’re an artist. You studied many years to develop and hone the skills you posses today. You’ve been working for a few years now and have been through tough times yourself. You’ve seen the ups and downs but are now in a happy place. You still have your bad days but you’re also serving someone and need to get shit done. You even try to do good for others in your own little way every now and then. But when you step out in your uniform, say a kurta pajama partnered with a jhola, you most definitely don’t get the respect that a Major would get, would you?

Showing respect in this country for other people is another blog in itself. We don’t know how to respect others. We judge people based on their caste, how they look, how much money they earn, which strata of society they belong to, what they do in life, how well they speak in English, so on and so forth.

Given our country’s history (fight against the British Rule) and age (independent India’s age), we’re born and brought up with the concept of seeing the Indian Armed Forces on a pedestal and picturing them as demi gods. We don’t question this concept and we don’t try to understand it any further. We accept it as fact and move on with our lives.

Have you ever wondered that even the Armed Forces are simply doing their jobs? It’s their job to wake up early in the morning and stay fit. It’s their job to know how to use a gun and know how to shoot one when required. It’s their job to train hard and become mentally strong to face any adversity they face during their journey ahead. They knew what they were getting into when they signed up for this gig and risking their lives is just an occupational hazard. And that probably is the biggest differentiator between them and us mere mortals. 

They risk their lives to get the job done.

So do the cops. Do we respect the cops enough? In Delhi, we simply refer to them as a ‘thulla’ and believe that each one can be bribed with a 100 odd bucks. So do the other groups like CRPF, BSF, etc. We don’t seem to see them at the same level as our Army or Navy or Air Force. In fact, we don’t even respect the jawans enough as compared to the ones in senior ranks. Can someone explain why?

People are not forced to join the Indian Armed Forces. People do it out of choice. It’s a good thing, no doubt. I’m also quite certain that not everyone who joins is doing it purely because they want to die for the country and defeat the enemy. There must be people who do it because they had no other choice. There must be people who do it because it runs in the family. There must be people who do it because they want to fly jets. There must be people who want to have the lifestyle they get. And there must be the ones who do it for the style – the uniform, the medals, the aviators. Maybe not so much for the last reason…

Whatever the motivation be, fact is that not the entire strength of the Indian Armed Forces is constantly at the border or in sensitive areas fighting the enemy and risking their lives. If that’s the biggest reason why we should glorify them then we’re failing miserably. There are many others in the country who risk their lives but don’t get the same amount of respect and there are many who get way too much respect even if they don’t risk their lives. I have a problem with that imbalance.

There are many people who are helping run this country in a sincere and honest manner. There are plenty who are making sure our country prosper and are making sacrifices and compromises in their lives. The country can’t solely survive because of the Indian Armed Forces but other essential services are ignored when compared to them. Be it doctors, engineers, scientists, professors, administrators, police, economists, etc. none of them will ever get as much respect as someone from the Armed Forces.

So, what if a doctor today becomes one for the money and not for saving lives? He is still doing his job, right? He is still helping someone in need. His motivations may be different but who are we to judge them? He studied hard, worked hard, and now enjoys a drink at home after a hard day at work. Don’t you think someone from the Army does the same thing? It’s not like they have a bad deal. It’s not like they are constantly risking their lives every single moment of every single day. They get all the respect one could imagine. They live in a ‘developed nation’ within our underdeveloped nation. They probably lead some of the most comfortable and classy lifestyles across the country. Don’t think they compromise one bit there, do they?

I’m not saying they don’t deserve it. They’re humans too. Everyone has needs. But everyone has a job to do as well. Some may seem important and some may not. Some may seem that they’re done just for the money and some look like are done for the passion. At the end of the day, let’s respect each and every honest human being who is out there trying to earn a hard day’s living and feeding his or her family. Everyone is risking something or the other every single day. People die of multiple reasons and one doesn’t need to join the army to face that risk. Let’s respect all our heroes equally. 

I wanted to touch the topic of army kids but I think I should let that one be given the amount of douchebags I’ve met or heard about in my life. I’m not trying to generalize here but in my experience I’ve seen they’re not the smartest bunch of the lot. 

Let me sum up by saying that I have immense respect for the Indian Armed Forces but I have immense respect for my father as well who still works his ass off at 70 years of age even after having had 3 heart attacks, a surgery, and a device under his skin. There are heroes all around us. Let’s not ignore the ones without uniforms.

PS - I know this blog will not make everyone happy and may probably piss a lot of people off. I haven't written this to create any sort of controversy neither do I deliberately want to hurt anyones sentiments. Please share your thoughts in the comments section. I would love to know what people think. Also, I will be heading the Jantar Mantar next weekend (if the agitation is still on) to know more about the OROP issue. Meet me there, maybe?

Tuesday, 18 August 2015

Good Morning My Ass

They say God is in the details. Sometimes they even say that devil is in the details. But there is no God and I know where the devil resides. He is not a dark lord sitting on the clouds at night sipping beer with Batman. Neither does he go around with a sickle looking for people to kill post midnight. The devil sleeps when we sleep. The devil wakes up when we wake up. The first light is the devil’s fuel.

The devil is in the morning, rather the ‘Good Morning’. 

I hate good mornings. I like mornings that are good, of course, but I hate the greeting called ‘good morning’. What does it even mean? Why is it assumed that people are having a good morning? Why do people randomly yell out ‘good morning’ like they mean it when they walk past me in the mornings? I mean, even if I’m having a good morning, the fact that someone says that out loud to me automatically makes it not such a good morning no more.

I mean, think about it. You’re starting your day, you’ve woken up after a 45 minute fight with the snooze button, you barely manage to run a kilometer but you’re as exhausted as a 90 year old man having sex on Viagra, you manage to find your way through the manic traffic and reach work without killing anyone and the first thing someone says to you instead of a "Hey job well done, welcome!" is "Good fucking morning".

Have you ever even thought what it means? Is it an assumption that one is having a good morning or is it a wish for that person to have a good morning? It’s a blatantly incorrect assumption if it is the latter and it is all lies if you tell me you genuinely wish for others to have a good morning. It’s just 2 words we are so used to saying all our lives (remember school? – Goooooood morniiiiiing maaaaaaammmmm) that we continue to use them even today without rhyme or reason.

I genuinely believe the world would be a much better place if we stop saying it and genuinely say something else that we actually mean (at least remotely) to say.

‘Good night’ is still acceptable. Though I prefer to use “have a good night” as I genuinely want others to have a good night. It’s the least anyone ever deserves – to have a good night’s sleep. A sleep that is not followed by a stupid ‘good morning’. You could be sleeping on the streets or in an air-conditioned room, once you’re asleep, it doesn’t matter where you are. All you’re left with is the dream to see a world where people don’t say ‘good morning’ ever again.

You all must be wondering if I have a personal vendetta against ‘good morning’. Well, you’re partially correct, I must admit. I’m a guy. And I have a penis. And I sleep at night (almost always). And I wake up in the mornings. And sometimes, just sometimes, I wake up with wood. Yes, I’m talking about the mythical force that governs the bodies of men all over the world. The magical phenomenon that is as hard to describe as explaining the Pythagoras Theorem to Radhe Maa. It happens to all of us. Black, white, Indian, Asian. It doesn’t matter who you are. If you are a guy and you have a penis, you must have experienced ‘morning wood’.

For the uneducated ones, morning wood is a marvel of nature wherein a man wakes up with an erect penis in the morning for no reason whatsoever. Even if you masturbate at night or have sex 3 hours before you wake up, you can still have a penis as hard as the 11th standard math chapter on application of derivatives in the morning. It will not make sense. It will go away when it pleases to. And you will not be able to do a thing.

You can’t wake up and start pleasing yourself, now, can you? Masturbation is any which way not a very inspiring activity. And masturbating first thing in the morning will confirm all your doubts of being addicted to it. I’m not saying that there is anything wrong with masturbation but rinsing your penis before your mouth in the morning sounds like a disturbing trend to me. The only way that the morning wood makes sense is when you have someone to poke it with. And we all know that it’s a dream that all men live with. Poking is a fairly risky prospect and it probably needs a separate blog post.

Poke and ye shall find.

Till next time... All of you all have a very wood morning.

PS - Follow me on Twitter @LaughingJawan and find out all about my organs in 140 characters or less. 

Saturday, 8 August 2015

Running While Shitting

I have been training to run a half marathon for over 3 years now and I’m nowhere close to making it happen. I barely survive 3-6 kms and I continue to be fat as shit. Though, I haven’t given up yet. I’m trying again this year and I’m hoping writing this blog will help me gain some stamina. Heh, kidding!

Now imagine if I get a bad dose of loose motions just a night before the half marathon and I decide to not do anything about it. Rather, I run the half marathon with shit dripping down my legs, proudly. And the message I’m trying to convey is that we shouldn’t shame people who defecate in public and to show solidarity for my brothers and sisters who do not have access to proper toilets.

Will you be cool with that? I won’t, if someone else decides to do that. Usually, people who shit their pants are drunkards. If it’s a mistake, if something went wrong, if it was beyond your control, I get it (I’ve often taken a dump in my pants as a kid); for any other reason, it just doesn’t make any sense.

This is exactly what Kiran Gandhi has done in my honest opinion. The comparison may be hugely senseless but it sure is funny.

PS – In case you do not know who Kiran Gandhi is and what she has done, please go read her blog entry here. In one line: She ran the London Marathon with period blood dripping down her legs. Photo below.

Firstly, I’m all for feminism and equal rights and all that stuff. I don’t hit women. I love women. I believe in equality for all. I live with my parents (man and woman). I’m married to a woman. My sister is a woman. Heck,I've even got a female dog. And if I didn’t have enough chest and facial hair, my man boobs will make you think I was a woman!

Secondly, Kiran Gandhi, you go girl. It’s great that you ran a full marathon without taking a single break. This is the kind of stuff my dreams are made of. I’m hoping, someday, I will replicate this feat, minus the period blood.

Thirdly, it’s amazing you managed to raise over $6000 towards breast cancer care. I haven’t done shit about prostate cancer ever in my life. I hope I find some inspiration from you.

Fourthly, it’s great you care about period shaming and how women do not have access to even basic hygiene stuff and are often shunned by society because of something as natural as menstruation. I’m thinking of taking up the cause of better television ads for sanitary pads in India. I’m tired of the fake blue blood they keep showing and the women jumping around when clearly all those are lies. Blood is red and women do anything but jump during their period.

Lastly, though, why the hell couldn’t you wear a tampon or a pad or simply a black pair of pants?

It would have been completely fine had you started menstruating during the marathon. Clearly, you didn’t know and it was not time to give up. I mean, I would have proudly ran alongside you on my motorcycle and kicked everyone away who shamed you for dripping blood all over the track. I would also have taken you home immediately after the run to ensure you could clean up at the earliest and do the needful to avoid any infection.

But, no. You had a point to prove. You started menstruating a night before the run so you knew. You could have used a tampon or a pad. You could have decided to wear a black pair of pants for least visibility of blood. But, no. You had to run around with blood dripping down your legs and show it to the whole world (in metropolitan London) and gain as much attention as possible and call it feminism. Or whatever your cause was. I’m actually feeling quite disillusioned now about why you did this.

And you wore bright light pink pants for maximum visibility and effect.

Tell me, how has it changed the world? Is any woman doing anything about period shaming now? Have any of the men changed their minds about it? Has your message reached the interiors of India where this period shaming happens? Is there a growing revolution against period shamers in the world after your daring feat? Largely, these questions remain unanswered and I doubt if we will have anything in the affirmative as answers to these questions any time soon.

I would be more than happy to be proven wrong. Honestly. Anything for the greater good of the world.

I read up a little about you when I found out about what you did. At first, I was in two minds, whether this actually is a great achievement or plain stupidity? The more I read the more my opinion started tilting towards the latter. You’re a drummer for MIA and Thievery Corporation. You’re young and live in London or Boston? You’re a feminist and will write a strong blog to change the world of women. You will probably get into great arguments to stand for women’s rights. And you will ensure to do gimmicky things to get attention, more for yourself, and less for the cause, it seems.

I fail to understand why the world is going gaga over what you have done. You've achieved what you set out to achieve. You're popular. Full points to you on that. But it is unbelievable that the publications the world over are actually praising this act of utter stupidity which is not only useless but probably unhygienic. Why don't you take this movement further and encourage women to not use a tampon for one day of their menstruation cycle each month? More visibility, right? They could travel in metro trains, they could walk around in parks, sit on their desks, all the while dripping blood down their legs, 'proudly'. Let's spread the message of period shaming and along with it the exact opposite of hygiene.

You took a great route to increase awareness around breast cancer by running in the marathon and raining money. You barely capitalised on a 'situation' and gave it a twist by raising awareness around period shaming. This is being an opportunist and not necessarily genuinely believing in any cause related to the real issue whatsoever. I have some more marathon suggestions on the same line through which people should spread awareness:

  • Masturbate Marathon: Masturbation is cool and better than raping. Will be perfect for India. Spread the message of solidarity for boys who live with their parents and sleep with their siblings and are deprived of porn now that it is banned. Let's run with semen dripping down our legs.
  • Snotty Marathon: A lot of poor people probably do not have access to basic medicine for cold etc so they probably keep sneezing and have constant runny noses. Let's run along with runny noses all the while dripping snot down our lips.
  • Shitty Marathon: Is something I have already spoken about.
  • Susu Marathon: I like to run for long hours because nobody can see my piss get mixed with my sweat.

Kiran, you probably need direction. There are better ways to talk about an issue. Ways that do not risk the health of anyone else. Do not set a precedent where women world over start running with their period blood dripping causing them to faint or having an infection. It is a serious matter. And don't you dare walk around with preiod blood dripping in front of me. I will not acknowledge you. I will not say hi, forget shaking hands with you. I will simply turn the other way and walk away. And that would have nothing to do with the fact that you are menstruating.

So, tell me, people: Am I the only one who thinks what she did was extremely stupid and completely useless?

Thursday, 30 July 2015

Life On The Streets Of Delhi

I’m not talking about the beggars. I’m not even referring to the street dogs. And I’m definitely not going to write about prostitutes (again). I’m talking about you. And me. And everybody we know. Yes, we are the newest gang on the street and we hate it.

Once upon a time there used to be a Delhiite who was proud of its roads. We used to proudly tell our counterparts from Mumbai / Kolkata / Bengaluru about how amazing Delhi was given it had such wide roads and not as bad traffic as existed in other cities. Even the regular middle class parents were visibly more proud about the amazingly big streets of Delhi than their kids being able to cure cancer.

Garv se hamara sar upar uthta tha aur hum kehte the “Kabhi dilli aake gaadi chalao.” Wo din hai aur aaj ka din hai.

According to a report, an average Delhiite spends over 23 hours a day stuck in traffic. And the break up is as follows:

  • 6:00 a.m – 8:00 a.m: Meditation to deal with traffic
  • 8:00 a.m – 9:00 a.m: Fight over late breakfast which will now force the person to end up in traffic
  • 9:00 a.m – 11:00 a.m: Stuck in actual traffic and saying #%$#%#%@#$@ x infinity
  • 11:00 a.m – 1:00 p.m: Cribbing at work about the traffic
  • 1:00 p.m – 2:00 p.m: Cribbing about traffic over lunch
  • 2:00 p.m – 3:00 p.m: Listen to boss, who has just come in, crib about traffic
  • 3:00 p.m – 6:00 p.m: Stuck in traffic while going to meeting. Cribbing while at the meeting. Stuck in traffic while coming back from meeting
  • 6:00 p.m – 9:00 p.m: Stuck in actual traffic and saying #%$#%#%@#$@ x infinity
  • 9:00 p.m – 10:00 pm: Cribbing about traffic over work
  • 10:00 p.m – 12:00 a.m: Beat up wife to take the traffic frustration out
  • 12:00 a.m – 5:00 a.m: Have nightmares about being stuck in traffic
  • 5:00 am – 6:00 am: Only peaceful hour. Spend masturbating.

This is what life has become for an average Delhiite. Driving on Ring Road has become worse than walking in Paranthe Wali Galli. Going to office and getting back is an achievement in itself. People don’t leave their homes without some dahi cheeni. Friends are being made at various red lights after multiple chance meetings between strangers. Beggars know certain people by name and have even tried giving job interviews to people while they wait for hours at end at these red lights.

We had one thing better than Mumbai. One thing. And now that’s gone too.

When it rains in Mumbai and the roads get jammed and the trains stop, it makes sense. It rains like a bitch there. When it rains in Delhi, all the same things happen, the roads get jammed and the metro stops, but it doesn’t make sense. It rains for like 15 minutes and people slow down their cars and try to keep it away from puddles as if the car will sink in 3-inch deep water.

Nothing is left sacred in this city any longer. There are traffic jams even during the afternoons on weekends. This city is going to the cars.

Ring Road used to be a signal less road and it continues to be the same more or less. But now the realities are much different. At any given time during the day, there is at the very least, one car or truck or bus stranded due to some technical failure on any one of the gazillion flyovers which causes a massive 15 km long traffic jam EVERY DAY ALL THE TIME.

And at any given time during the last 30 years, there has been either a flyover in construction or a part of the metro line being constructed at the key spots in Delhi. This whole construction scene to improve the city’s traffic is such an oxymoron. They stop the traffic to make the traffic better. But this is a never ending process. This will go on until the entire length and breadth of Delhi roads become flyovers and all underground area is converted into metro tracks. Simply put, this will go on forever.

What have we done to our beloved city at the cost of expansion? It’s only getting worse and it will never stop. Delhi is not what it used to be. And I don’t mean it in a good way. One minute silence for the Delhi that was, only if it is possible to be silent given the noise of traffic around us. Amen.

Tuesday, 21 July 2015

Hauz Khas Village – A Sophisticated GB Road

It is, isn’t it?

What once used to be an actual village of sorts, which then turned into a hot spot of up and coming designers, and eventually the mecca of nightlife in Delhi is now merely a shadow of what it used to be, of what it represented. What it represented was a great amalgamation of multiple cultures, which Delhi anyway is, where different tribes of people would come together to create a unique experience never known before to a Delhiite.

Hauz Khas Village

What Hauz Khas Village is today is the perfect example how something reaches its saturation point and burns out. It happens to places like this and it happens to people as well. HKV today is like that super brilliant scientist who goes crazy after one super invention and roams around the streets drunk and half naked giving blowjobs for crack.

Hauz Khas Village has become a nightmare. From the parking to the crowd to the bouncers, nothing works in favour of a place that used to be a second home to many of Delhi’s elites. It was no surprise to spot actors from Bollywood or small time politicians enjoying a Sunday brunch on one of the many rooftop cafes in the area. Now what we see are unruly men and women simply too late to join the bandwagon giving the ‘high life’ their best shot.

As you enter the lane leading up to the entrance of Hauz Khas Village, midway you are greeted by burly unkempt men manning police barriers yelling at autorickshaws to dare not cross their lakshman rekha lest they wanted to get beaten up in full public view. Mind you, these are not cops, these are not bouncers; these are goondas given authority by the locals to do as they please in the name of maintaining law and order.

Of course, the cops are all probably a part of the scam as well. At least a thousand drunk men and women leave that place to head home or some after party at Sainik Farms but nowhere do you see the men in uniform actually ever doing anything about it. I wonder, at times, after reading multiple reports of road accidents in Delhi that how many of these people were in Hauz Khas Village before they decided to drive drunk?

Parking has always been a pain in the area given the design and the single road approach to Hauz Khaz Village, but it has grown beyond being just a problem anymore. On a Saturday night, one needs to take into consideration the time one spends parking the car and getting it out that a good 2 hours are taken up just for that. And this gave rise to our favourite spot: Summer House Café.

It is a mini Hauz Khas Village in itself and it didn’t take more than 6 months to become a shit hole that Hauz Khas Village already was. Merely 2 months back it was a place where one could go to avoid the madness that was HKV, it’s now become even worse than some of the crappiest places down the road. The bouncers and the so called ‘manager’ at the counter at the entrance size up chicks as they walk in with their boy toys and the firangi ass licking they do is on another level altogether. The drinks are shabby and the crowd is full of guys spending money to get their girls drunk so that they could hook up. If you want to be entertained, you should just wait downstairs after the place shuts down and just listen to people talk and make plans for the night. From the guy who now knows the Wimpy’s chap by name given that he comes there regularly to the Sangam Vihar businessman who has come here for the first time with some girls in his daddy’s car; everyone acts like such a douchebag that it is cringe worthy at times.

Now coming to the title of the blog. What is GB Road? It’s Delhi’s red light area where women work by having sex with men for money. And what is Hauz Khaz Village? It’s Delhi’s disco light area where men work their asses off to get their girls into bed with them by spending money on shitty drinks and getting them drunk.

GB Road

There may be nothing bad about either of the places, I’m sure, but at least let’s accept that this is how it is. And you know the only difference between the two places?

You check in at Hauz Khas Village, and, well, you don’t at GB Road unless you’re the proudest most bad ass pimp Delhi has ever seen! 

Monday, 6 July 2015

The Importance Of The Indian Independence Day

There is none.

Now that I have set the context, I can go on and tell you why there isn’t. Following are the reasons why the Indian people know about the 15th of August or celebrate the Indian Independence Day:

  • Dry Day: Buy as much booze as you can the day before because the urge to drink alcohol on a Dry Day is at least 107 times higher than on a normal day. And when you are done emptying the bottles you bought the day before, which you will, head to a bootlegger to add to the thrill of being independent and pay 4 times the prize of that Royal Stag you will buy. Oh wait, on the way back, when you get caught riding your bike triples and only wearing your vest, argue with the cop that it’s your right to be who you are on Independence Day
  • Kite Flying: When you stay in either Old Delhi or Ahmedabad or Jaipur, it is easily assumed that you do not have access to electricity and in turn you have no computer or an Internet connection and you still rent Debonair and Fantasy magazines to wank off. And when you are done wanking off for 364 days of the year, the only other source of entertainment you have is to fly kites. An additional bonus being able to kill people at times by letting the manjha go haywire!
  • Republic Day Parade: Of course, you must have met someone in your life who thought that the Republic Day parade happens on the 15th of August every year because that is our Independence Day. If not, then you’re yet to meet some of the most interesting people to ever walk on the face of the Earth.
  • Holiday: Get drunk on the 14th of August with your office / college buddies and come home sloshed, take off your pants and your shirt and scratch your paunch before you go off to sleep. Wake up sweaty with a bad hangover and a splitting headache, go wash your face in the loo and come back scratching your balls and go back to sleep again. Most independent you will ever feel. 
  • The Indian Flag: Do you know there are set rules on how to hoist the Indian Flag? There’s an actual Indian Flag Code which you can check out for yourself. If the government is going to expect the Indian citizens to go through a 26 page manual on the use of the Indian Flag, well, they’re expecting too much from the laziest country on the planet. 
  • The Years: We always focus on the amazing number of years that we have been independent. Like we’ve achieved a lot in these so called ‘independent’ years. I mean, just for some perspective, there are actual people older than Independent India. Just saying. 
  • Patriotism: Bhagat Singh. Sukhdev. Rajguru. That’s what the Indian freedom struggle is to the common man here. There used to be a bit of Gandhi in there, but, thanks Modi! Oh wait, did I not mention Jallianwala Bagh? A trip to Amritsar must be due. I owe this to my country. Sob sob.
  • Independence Day (the movie): We live in a country where every English movie channel on TV ends up showing Independence Day. And we all know Independence Day. It is a movie about some aliens who’re trying to take over the world, apparently, but the great USofA comes to the rescue and saves the world from total annihilation. And coincidentally, the final blow is dealt on the 4th of July and that’s when the American President, quite confidently, declares it to be an Independence Day for the whole of mankind! Well…

What does Independence Day mean to you? I would love to know!

Thursday, 25 June 2015

When To Use A Condom

Everybody talks about how a condom should be used but nobody cares about when it should be used. I believe that in today’s time and age the latter is more important. I’m sure every Indian boy has, at one time or the other, put on that rubber grip on his cricket bat, and if he hasn’t, he is probably not getting any sex in life, ever. So if he can do that, he can surely put on that slimy piece of rubber called a condom on his penis.

We don’t need tutorial classes on how a condom should be bought with confidence or how it should be opened, the important thing here is to teach us Indians on the importance of actually using it when we think it’s not needed to be used. Case in point, the Delhi University cut-off list!

We are breeding a whole generation of pseudo-intelligent students who are currently capable of scoring a 100% marks and will probably be capable of scoring even better in the future. This is not the world God had intended to make when he was enjoying the big bang. He got fucked!

If everyone starts scoring above 98%, what will be the novelty of it all? Back in the day, scoring above 90% was a big deal and it was celebrated amongst families, friends, and entire neighbourhoods and relatives from Tanzania, Papua New Guinea, and Canada. Now a student scoring 95% has 2 options:

  1. Join IIPM
  2. Suicide

You know which one is more popular in our country. They should probably come up with a new tagline of sorts “Dare to think beyond IIPM? Join us in a mass suicide! Free laptop!!

If I were in school in today’s India, I would have probably been amongst the cream. The masses today are brilliant and the average kid is the cream, quite clearly. We’ve seen how the brilliant ones end up: Engineering + MBA + Goldman Sachs + Suicide. The average almost always ends up dropping a year to travel and experiment with substances and then discover a real talent and make it big eventually by staying happy with what they do. It’s like it’s become tough to score average marks. Parents will be soon like:

Mere bete ke 68% aaye hain.” Father feeling proud.

Mai kya batau Gupta ji, mere haraam ke pille ne 98% score kar liye. Samajh nahi ata is nalayak ka kya karu!” Frustrated father. “Kyu be chutiye, kya ukhaad lega Stephen’s join karke? Hain? Thode average se number nahi la sakta tha? Deshbandhu Evening mei mil jata to life ban jati. Baap ki naak kata di. Poora ma pe gaya hai. Nalayak!

This is a warning sign for an eventuality that is more dangerous than global warming. Frankly, you should not give a fuck about global warming because it is not going to have much effect in our lifetime. But with every passing year, a new breed of these pseudo-intelligent creatures will keep infesting our countries and we will have IIMs and IITs in all the strange places like IIM Dharavi, IIT Sonagachi, etc.

My point is that we need to bring this under control and treat this in a more serious way than the world treated Ebola. We Indians may know how to put on a condom on our dicks but we certainly don’t know when to put it. Let all the educationists and gurujis of the country pledge to teach people to put on a condom when they least think it’s required.

I want Baba Ramdev to go out and tell the people of the country that using a condom will ensure that the couple will have a boy child and I guarantee all our country’s problems will be solved.

No more Sarthak Agarwals. We want more Chunky Pandeys, Baba Sehgals, and Akash Ambanis. Are you with me? Promise me that the next time you decide to have sex for procreation, put on a condom and do it for the pleasure instead. Let’s make this world a better place, together, you and me.

Jai Jawan Jai Kisan.

Wednesday, 17 June 2015

Days Like International Yoga Day

It’s a great feeling for the Indian in me when I see my country’s culture reaching the whole world through days like International Yoga Day. It gives me immense pleasure when Shri Narendra Modi Ji, Honourable Prime Minister of India, is on radio or TV or Facebook or Twitter or in Namibia or Cambodia or Kyrgyzstan talking about how proud he feels about being an Indian, finally. It’s almost orgasmic. I have a feeling that this is just the beginning of our country’s greatness being appreciated by the greatest of countries the world over and we should not let the momentum die. I suggest we should celebrate more such days like the International Yoga Day which celebrate the Indian culture at its best. We have 12 months and we should have a day each month to celebrate our awesomeness. Following are some suggestions:

International Shame A Woman Day
Be it raping her, molesting her, staring at her, hitting her, or simply disrespecting her; we need a day when men the world over have a day to themselves to treat their women like shit and shame them in both private and public.

International Litter Day
This is probably going to be a tough one for a lot of countries but they should experience the liberating feeling of littering wherever possible. There’s just one rule: You can’t litter in a dustbin or a designated place for trash. Let the games begin, you have 24 hours!

International Child Labour Day
Imagine instead of a ‘nanny’, parents world over start hiring a ‘poti’ to take care of their young ones. Wouldn’t it be a great feeling for them to go to a fancy restaurant with their noisy kids and a caretaker younger than the kid themselves, and while they and their kids eat, the caretaker sits on the side just cleaning up the mess the kids create!? They deserve this once a year!

International Dowry Day
The westerners have gotten it all wrong. They don’t know how to get married. What is a wedding, after all, without a bit of give and take? These modern, educated foreigners need a day on which if they get married, the groom gets gold worth 3 times more than his entire wealth.

International Public Urination Day
This is my favourite one. There is something wrong with the world if a self-righteous man can’t urinate in public without shame when he wants. It’s time for the West to get equal rights and a day when all the men walk around in public just peeing on the streets.

International Cow Worship Day
This makes so much sense. You’re praying to an animal that gives you milk and one of the tastiest meats ever. On this day, it should be made compulsory for each person to touch the feet of a cow before they eat their steak.

International Break a Rule Day
This one is more like a Mah Lyf Mah Rulz kind of a day. Who needs to stop at red lights? Who needs to pass an exam without cheating? Who needs to tell the truth about their last salary? You’re free to do what you want. You got a day. What will you do?

International Treat A Foreigner Like God Day
Who says God isn’t amongst us? Come to India and you will find white-skinned Gods walking all around us. Make us talk to one and you will quickly notice how we start licking their ass in an instant. Try it, even if just for a day.

International Kill Your Kin Day
Hey, so your Catholic daughter married a Protestant boy? Kill her. Or did your New York raised daughter married someone from Colorado? Kill him instead. Or did you just catch her meeting her boyfriend at 8 in the evening? Kill them both and bury them in Vegas.

International No Condom Day
Real men don’t need condoms. Hell yeah. Ask any Indian and he will proudly talk about how his below average sized penis does not need no rubber. One day across the world where every couple needs to have sex without a condom and ensure they have a baby in 9 months. Why should India be the only country procreating like rabbits?

International Give A Random Fuck Day
What would your father say? What would your neighbour think? What if your friend finds out? What if your tailor sees you? What if that beggar spots you there? WHAT WILL PEOPLE THINK? Give a random fuck. Make some complete idiot’s day by spoiling yours. Try it once!

PS - It is a given that each of these days will be governed by the awe-inspiring, omnipresent days of all. The one and only. DRY DAY!

Friday, 5 June 2015

Life Of A Machhar Wala

I remember reading a story while in school about this man from Afghanistan who used to give out mosquitoes to little kids for free. And his name was… Machhar Wala. Well, no surprise there. So the story went something like this: He was a kind old man who used to come down to India twice a year, much like all our NRI relatives back in the ‘90s. He was an innocent old man who had relatives back in India and always got goodies for them.

How he got this name Machhar Wala was because of this one incident that happened during his last ever visit in 1947. He was on his way to catch his flight when he was walking past a group of kids where he saw this fat little boy bullying a young girl making fun of her non existent bosom. The boy was, in fact, taking pride in the fact that his male breasts were bigger. The Machhar Wala just stood there in shock and realized that they were just kids fighting innocently and the boy probably didn’t know having manboobs was no great feat.

As he was walking away he heard the little girl howling incessantly and running towards an approaching train. The Machhar Wala saw that and reacted quickly. He ran towards the girl and rescued her from the oncoming train and they both fell on the other side. Panting and recuperating from the fall, the Machhar Wala helped the little girl back on her feet and asked politely about what happened. She told him how the boys in her school and colony made fun of her about how thin she was. This brought a tear in his eyes and he promised the girl that it would get better for her eventually and left to catch his flight.

The Machhar Wala was back in Afghanistan but could not forget the sobbing face of that little girl he had encountered back in India. He would have sleepless nights, he would walk aimlessly all around Kabul eating Channas, and binge drink tea all day long. On one of those troubled days he got bitten by a mosquito and fell quite ill. He stayed ill for many a days and it felt to him like he was on his death bed counting his last few breaths. The image of the crying girl just wouldn’t leave him and that was making his health even worse. Full of regret, he started crying one last time before he looked at the cursed mosquito bite on his arm and suddenly had an epiphany.

He swiftly got up from his bed and immediately started feeling better. He booked a one way ticket to India and spent the next few nights in Kabul collecting as many mosquitoes as he could. He prepared for his one last trip and was on his way.

As soon as he landed, the first thing he did was to go back to the spot where he had met that little girl. She was nowhere to be seen. He continued to wait for her in the hopes that she would once again be back with her friends to play at the same place. After 4 days of waiting, as he was about to give up, the Machhar Wala saw a boy walking towards him and recognized him immediately. It was the same plump little boy but he wasn’t as fat as he used to be. The Machhar Wala enquired about the little girl and the boy had sad news. The boy told him how she had committed suicide by jumping in front of the next train after the Machhar Wala had left her alone. The Machhar Wala fainted.

He woke up 3 nights later next to a gutter with torn clothes and all his luggage missing other than the bag with the mosquitoes. He started feeling sick again and knew that it was now time for him to die. But he knew what he had to do before he left the world. He gathered whatever little courage that was left and waited for sunrise. With the first ray of light he marched towards the nearest playground with his bagful of mosquitoes.

He went from playground to playground throwing Kabuli mosquitoes at little petite girls. He went to schools and he went to swimming pools. He went all places where he could find thin young girls who he could help and threw as many mosquitoes as he could at them. Within a week he became so popular that the little boys started feeling left out and wanted some mosquitoes for themselves. A group of notorious young boys stole his stash and started distributing the mosquitoes to their gang not knowing what it could do to them.

The Machhar Wala tried to stop them but the boys just wouldn’t listen. They beat him up bad and left him to die on a railway track. He was in no condition to move and he saw a slow moving train coming at him. He felt bad about the boys but he was happy that, at least, he helped many a young girls. He looked at his arm and noticed his swelling. It brought a smile to his face that the mosquitoes would bite the girls at the right places and it would help them become well endowed. He did feel a tinge of regret for letting the boys have the mosquitoes but he thought some manboobs in the world will not harm anyone.

As the train came closer and closer, he remembered the little girl one more time and closed his eyes and got ready to face his maker. He had done as much as he could. He helped as many kids as he could. Though he would always regret not being able to help the little girl, but he was ready to face the consequences in heaven above. The train crossed over him and the legend of the Machhar Wala got etched in India’s history as the most mysterious one.

Men even today wonder why they have manboobs and women still wonder how some women are so well endowed. The story of the Machhar Wala was long forgotten as generations after generations twisted it around and what we know of it today is the famous Kabuli Wala as that is a more probable story.

I’d like to believe the one I have just shared is the real one. This one has more hope. This one changed the way I looked at life. This will always remain.

Dedicated to all kids across India, thin or fat, you either need a mosquito bite, or a mosquito has bitten you. Because, as a Machhar Wala once said: “There’s only 2 kinds of people in the world, those who have been bitten by a mosquito, and those who haven’t.”

Tuesday, 26 May 2015

Alternate Is The New Mainstream

You know how everyone’s today either a writer or an artist? Look around you and you will not see a single doctor or an engineer. If there’s an emergency there will not be a single person around you who will be able to help you. During an earthquake people will start updating their Facebook walls with ‘feeling confused’. It’s true. Majority of the people I met after the Nepal earthquake, they thought they were too drunk and were just imagining it. And if someone gets injured they’re going to upload pictures on Instagram with #blood #life #bloodgroup #help #me #going #craycray. And I’m sure you will find a ‘music producer’ who will start recording some ‘samples’ during a Tsunami. It’s like there’s been a mainstream education holocaust and all so called regular courses have been gassed to death by the emerging sect of new age careers.

New age is a funny word. It’s as if writing or designing never existed and the likes of Chetan Bhagat invented it or something. It’s like everyone’s ignored the whole of history and Shakespeare and Mozart and Picasso and others who I don’t even know. I may be ignorant and not remember their names but at least I have the basic courtesy to acknowledge their existence. These ‘alternate careers’ have become so common that there’s nothing alternate about them any longer. Imagine a world where 90% of the population becomes homosexual, the straight population will be frowned upon. I do that any which ways given the rate at which they are breeding.

All of this makes me really afraid of the future. I may not be too afraid of death or watching Deepika Padukone’s Piku, but I am really afraid of a world where there are more writers and designers than doctors, engineers, bankers, etc. Twenty years down the line I’m afraid we will be in a situation where nice designs for buildings will be created but will remain on paper. Beautiful hospitals will be conceptualized and will remain in that stage forever. And currency notes will be hand drawn with images of Snoop Dogg and Yo Yo Honey Singh.

What happened all of a sudden? Why did people become so anti mainstream that they went ahead and made alternate the new mainstream? Why is it that whoever I meet today is either working in an advertising agency or is designing something. They’re either clicking photographs of poor old people or writing how crappy phones are. Doesn’t anyone anymore wants to make the world a better place by actually doing something rather than just writing about it or ‘expressing’ themselves through art?

Sadly, I’m a part of this madness too. For me it probably was just an easy way out to escape years and years of studying after 14 years of torture while in school. And honestly, I was never good at academics. But I was never good at anything at all, actually. I don’t know if I’m still particularly good at anything any longer but I somehow manage.

It’s a strange litte world we live in today and I’m quite excited to see what lies ahead for all of us. I shall save this blog to refer back to 50 years from now to see how wrong I am today. Till then, keep reading and keep sharing. I’m a writer after all.

Tuesday, 19 May 2015

Apna Kaam Banta

You know how the rest of this saying goes, right? No? Then you have either studied in a British School sort of a place where the fancy kids only spoke in English and went to school in cars or you are a Madrasi. And by a Madrasi I do not mean a South Indian. I’m not as ignorant as a Sardar in Delhi. But I’m not even referring to a Tamilian. I am simply referring to a human person who does not speak / understand the beautiful language of Hindi. The sort of a guy who struggles each day in a place like Delhi and can never understand the logic behind giving genders to things in Hindi.

A classic example:

Train ka Dabba = Male
Train ka Engine = Male

Join the two. And it becomes female. Dabba aa raha hai. Engine aa raha hai. Lekin Train aa rahi hai. It’s like a gay couple adopted a girl child. I’m like full power man! That’s the way to go! Anyway. Back to the topic.

It looks like this saying has gone global. It seems as if every young fellow today adheres to it and solemnly abides by it. You know it’s the new Vande Mataram. It’s the new Karo Ya Maro. It’s like the new Didi Tera Dewar Diwana… Exactly. It doesn’t make any sense at all!

What I’m basically talking about is the emergence of this new career goal: Startups! It’s the new slut in town. Everyone wants to do it. Everyone wants a piece of it. Some go on to become its pimps, they own it. And some are just happy getting some action on bean bags. But everyone’s today in it like it’s Orkut from 2005.

Earlier it used to be like people fighting on Orkut saying:

“Man I got 4000 scraps on my scrapbook man!”
“Naw man I got 8000 scraps!”

And today all I hear is people being proud about stupid bean bags.

“Man we got 8 bean bags in the office man!”
“Only 8? We got over 25 bean bags!”
“You both are losers man. I work inside a bean bag. It’s the shizz.”

This is not the world any ‘90s kid was ever told about. Back when we were kids, people were becoming doctors, engineers, pilots. Imagine a pilot telling you today: “Man I’m gonna start a low cost airlines and we’ll just have bean bags in the plane man!” I mean it’s a great idea but I don’t want my pilot to be dozing off midway or feeling too lazy to get up to land the bloody plane. We all know how uncomfortable those big ugly bags get and how sweaty your ass becomes after a 15 minute sitting. You know you’ve always pulled out your underwear from between your buttcheeks looking here and there hoping nobody would notice. But don’t worry, we all do it. Some of us even end up smelling our fingers after we do it.

And startups are not something very new. It’s like a new term they gave to businesses. You’re simply setting up your own shop. One guy is selling spoons to middle aged women in Karol Bagh and the other is helping the same person sell it on a website. Eventually you are still selling crappy spoons.

I’m a middle class hard working man. I got a paunch, I drink almost everyday, I save very little, I slog for 14 hours on a daily basis, and I come home too tired to even play with myself. But I’m proud of this extremely averagish persona that I carry with me. I’ve worked hard towards creating this masterpiece that will never lose the rat race. I mean there are a billion other rats like us, I’m sure there’ll always be someone worse than you. I mean, if you do come last, if you are the worst, then you, sir, are the real winner.

So we haven’t got it easy. When people come up to us and tell us “Man you should do you own thing man, be your own boss man, that’s real man!” I’m all like “Oh yes. I was just waiting for you to come say this to me. Wait, let me go to my boss and tell him I’m quitting and then I’m going to start my own startup. By the way, where can I get the cheapest bean bags?”

I mean, I’m all for people who’ve created something cool, added some value, made some change in the world around them or in people’s lives. Even if it means making one person happy at a time. I mean, I do it almost every night, at a micro level, by making myself happy. That’s the only startup experience that I have!

But I don’t sometimes get it when people do it just for the heck of it. They’re all like “I’m my own boss and I’m my own man. I don’t work for nobody and I don’t take orders form nobody!” Agar unki ma ne bachpan mei ek thappad maara hota na to aaj ye din dekhne ko nahi milta.

So boys and girls, start a startup to actually start something new. Add some value. Bring about a change. Cure cancer. Cure stupidity. Don’t do it just because your daddy has some money and you have some time to kill. And even if you do it like that, so be it, just don’t come to me and tell me how you are a self made man. I’m sorry, mai apni do waqt ki roti ke liye mehnat karta hu, and you are nobody to tell me that it’s no good in front of what you do.

I’m going to go and sit on my bean bag now. Adios.

Sunday, 4 January 2015

I Know I Think I’m The Funniest Man Alive

I used to think of a lot of things about me. As I kid I thought I would become a pilot when I grew up. The only planes I’ve ever flown are made out of papers. I somehow was always fascinated of becoming a balloon seller as well. So even today when I see a balloon I get fascinated and start blowing. Balloons, not people. One thing that I never thought of ever, till some time back, was about me being funny. And by funny I don’t mean making an old deaf man laugh by showing him my peepee, but actually being the funniest man on Earth. Yes sir, I think that to be true.

In recent times I have been accused while at work that I don’t laugh at other people’s jokes and, in fact, I try to demean people who try to be funny in front of me. I’ve been told that I strangle their jokes in front of everyone and would then crack a lame ass joke and laugh so loud that people all around me are forced to laugh with me. Through this ‘hypnotist’ technique, I, apparently, ensure that I remain to be the funniest man around.

Well, it is somewhat true but the jokes that other people tell really are lame. The jokes that I tell are definitely funnier. Same goes for all the stand-up comics around like Vir Das, AIB, Papa Chutiya Ji, etc. They might be funny in front of their audience, they might be really funny during a live show, I would even concede that I’ve laughed so hard at a Vir Das show that I cried. But the credit does not go to how funny they are rather how well they perform live in front of a public.

A wise man once said: “Yaar chhe drink aur chaar joint phoonk ke to mai bhi stand-up comic ban jau.”

I strongly believe that I’m a little ahead of my times. See how I chose my words so carefully? I didn’t say ‘way ahead of my times’, I said ‘a little’ because I know my time is coming soon. Today, I crack funnies after funnies on Twitter and on my blog yet people don’t give a shit. Tomorrow, the same people will be paying to listen to or watch my jokes. You’ll see. You’ll all see. <insert_evil_laughter_of_a_failed_villain_who_has_never_been_able_to_succeed_in_spreading_any_sort_of_evilness_around_the_world_that_he_lives_in>

I’m extremely glad of this strong belief as it keeps me going and makes me not give up. Even if my Tweets and blogs and jokes go unnoticed, I know if it makes me laugh, it is funny. I am my own benchmark and I am the funniest. You may all think how stupid this is but know that Einstein never gave up and he ended up inventing science. Edison always believed in himself and he created porn. Aryabhatta didn’t feel ashamed that he was inventing something that would torture millions of students around the world for ages to come. If Hitler didn’t believe in himself, how in the world did he direct such great movies like Saving Private Ryan, Schindler’s List, Inglourious Basterds, etc?

You all may discourage me as much as you want but I will never give up. Spartans never give up neither do Baniyas. Some day you will realise that all your best jokes combined are still not as funny as my worst joke ever. I may not be a great speaker like Bose or Gandhi, but I am funny. Funnier than you, you, and you. You may want to bookmark this blog today or follow me on Facebook and Twitter, for soon I will be rich and famous and I will stop giving a shit about my fans then. I will just wave around my hair like blonde on a spring break and flash my hairy chest along with my mentor Shri Shri Anil Kapoor Ji in an open Jeep as we drive down India Gate and Bandstand.

It’s going to be a great year ahead. You may want to fall sick, because I’m going to give you a medicine that’s best: LAUGHTER!

BOOM BOOM = Do ulte moob.

Ashamed To Be A Hindu

I just got done watching Rajkumar Hirani and Aamir Khan’s PK. This blog is not particularly ‘inspired’ by it, but yes, the film definitely instigated me into writing this blog today. Let me also make one thing very clear, I didn’t quite like the movie. In fact, other than bits of the end, it was quite a pain to sit through the whole film especially the scenes with Donald Duck in it. The movie in itself was quite ridiculous (like most other Raju Hirani films) but I’m glad it did some good towards the end.

Also, just for clarity, I know Hirani has made just about 4 films but I say ‘most’ when I talk about his films that I didn’t like because other than Lage Raho Munnabhai I haven’t quite liked any of his other movies. Munnabhai MBBS was a little lame to be honest, I saw 3 Idiots twice just to see what the fuss was about but I could never figure, and now PK has yet again been quite a disappointment. Despite this, I quite respect the man for a fact that his films try and show some good. It’s like there is a message in all his films which people could really learn from. This is especially true of Lage Raho, 3 Idiots, and even PK.

There are some more facts that I’d like to clear before I proceed. I don’t believe in any God or religion per se. I was born into a Hindu family and I still live with them and I live in a community where we celebrate all festivals irrespective of what religion they are from. I don’t pray to any one God or through any religious practice and I don’t go to any religious establishment for any religious reasons. I may visit a church for its mystique, a temple for its architecture, a mosque for my curiosity, or a Gurudwara for its halwa.

What PK has tried to show in the film is probably through good intentions but it failed at so many levels. Firstly, the movie is so fake that nothing in the film is believable. None of the characters make sense and the whole film feels like an intellectual Rohit Shetty flick. The humour was not the kind I like, which was the case for both 3 Idiots and Munnabhai MBBS as well. The Hindu bashing was quite senseless at times and apart from the good intentions of the film, everything else failed. In fact, one of the songs just took me back to the ‘Janae Nahi… Denge Tujhe…’ song from 3 Idiots and I was half expecting Rancho or a Chatur to come on screen and fart.

In spite of everything failing, I must give Mr. Hirani a standing ovation for at least trying to bridge some gap between Hindus and Muslims, that too from India and Pakistan respectively, towards the end. Towards the end we also see how the film is not about any one religion in particular, as some Hindus are saying it is anti-Hindu, but it is against the concept of this ‘God’ that we ourselves have created. This alien was not against the concept of ‘God’ that created us but rather the whore that we’ve created out of it during our evolution. But all Hindus across the world taking it so personally and asking for a ban on the film brings me to the real topic here that I wish to talk about, which is the title of the blog as well.

Today, I have to admit, in whatever capacity that I am a Hindu, I am ashamed to be one. I know I’m not a practicing Hindu, I know I don’t believe in God, I know I don’t go to temples, I know don’t pray to the Gods, so whatever little connection I have with Hinduism, it makes me feel stupid to be a part of it. After a point in life, after a certain age, I never needed religion to tell me that I needed to do good or be good. I know what’s right or wrong without fearing the consequences of what a God might do to me. I’m well aware that all my actions will have consequences and I take decisions based on reason. I don’t blame God when something goes wrong neither do I credit God for the good that happens. Majority of what happens in my life is because of what I do along with the support of my friends and family, blessings of my loved ones, some amount of luck, and lots and lots of hard work or the lack of it.

So when I see so many Hindus today becoming extremists in some way or the other, it just saddens me to the core. This was never the case till a few years back. At least not in the strata of society where I belong. Not with the circle of people that I used to hang out with. But it seems like the same people have been brainwashed somehow by a greater power and now all they do is try to defend their religion from an enemy that does not even exist. By constantly defending it against an invisible enemy, they’ve managed to create a real one out of it.

Once upon a time I used to go to temples, I used to pray every night, I used to fear God and not do bad. It was because back then I was a kid, I did not have the brain to make sense of a lot of practical things. I’m glad I had this upbringing where I learned about the religion and the culture, etc. I’m gladder that my parents gave me the option to chart my own course when I did grow up and started to have my own thoughts as an individual which define me today. It is out of that respect that I don’t mind sitting with my parents during any Puja at home or going to the temple with them. It is not forced upon me out of fear of a God. We all have our individual beliefs and we must learn to respect each other for that.

If I can respect that you need to go to your temple or mosque or church or Gurudwara, you must respect that I don’t need to go to any. Chuck that, this is much bigger than what I want or don’t want. Why is it that all of a sudden all Hindus in our country are uniting against a so called invasion by the Muslims? Why is it that Hindus today need to get defensive about each and every little non-Hindu thing that happens in our country? Why are Hindus today so blind to see that PK is merely a crappy film which simply utilises the most popular religion in our country and has not got a personal vendetta against Hinduism?

By this logic, Americans should sue all the disaster Hollywood films which showcase destruction of American cities because that’s all they do apparently in each of their films. Right? But that is only because it is an American film and they are shooting in America so it is easier to destroy that rather than coming to India and shooting here to destroy Delhi or recreating a Delhi in the US. Similarly, if an alien gets dropped off in India, it is but natural that if he starts noticing religion, what he is going to encounter most is Hinduism!

I know we were never a tolerant bunch and the Hindu-Muslim war will continue till eternity, but it seems to be getting worse by the day. Especially lately because of reasons that I’m sure everyone is aware of. I don’t want to be a part of a community that practices hate outside of their temples or mosques. I don’t want to be a part of a community which prays for peace yet wishes ill for people of other religion. I don’t wish to be a part of a community that is fake and gets defensive on the stupidest of topics.

Always remember, this country does not belong to Hindus or Muslims or whoever else. It belongs to each one of its citizens irrespective of their religion. The Hindu in Hindustan has nothing to do with Hinduism (at least I’d like to believe so) and the current sentiment is extremely negative even for a person like me who, maybe, at least technically, is a Hindu. There is much more to do in the world and to worry about in the world than bloody defend our religions against invisible enemies. Let’s fix ourselves first and then worry about fixing others.

I’m not trying to bash Hinduism here but rather the people who’re trying to widen the gap between Hindus and Muslims or any other religion for that matter. I don’t discriminate between religions, rather I hate and respect them all equally. I also recently realised that ‘deleting’ all religion from this planet will not help us in any way possible. We are humans and we are capable of finding excuses to kill each other any which way. So all you atheists out there who are spending their lives’ worth in trying to destroy religion from this planet, please give up, it is a worthless exercise. If you think it’s religion today that’s killing us all, tomorrow it may be something else. The problem is with us and nothing else.

The sooner we realise, the better.