Is there any doubt that Maharashtra is the new neo-Nazi lab of India? Raj Thackeray has usurped the position for so long held by Narendra Modi. His brand of hate politics does not spare anyone who is not a Marathi speaking Maharashtrian born in Maharashtra constantly proving his credentials by paying obeisance at his darbar. To say that for long he has been the successor of his infamous uncle Bal T is an understatement.

He too issues fatwas. Don’t do this. Do this. Otherwise – slap, slam, burn, pillage. He goes so far as to support molesters just because they are born of the holy soil of Maharashtra. And what does the ordinary Maharashtrian on whose name he avowedly does all this drama DO? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

They go about doing their daily job. You see it does not harm them much personally. A few politically inclined citizens of course condemn the attacks but that’s about it. There is in fact a complicit support to his activities. By other parties – because it keeps the other vitriol spewing party Shiv Sena at bay; by citizens because the other is always a non-Maharashtrian, generally a person from Uttar Pradesh or Bihar; or a Muslim. The law stands silently as his extra-constitutional powers keep on increasing. Seeking apologies otherwise beating people. This is the twin manifestos of the MNS.

Who is this Marathi Manoos? Is he an imbecile, coward, illiterate, uncivil, uncultured, uncouth and inhuman that lumpen elements of the street fight his battles. And what about the woman? Is the MNS also fighting for the pride and honour of the Manooshi? Is this Manoos not an Indian? Where is the rage of the general citizenry of the state and more so Bombay (yeah its deliberate) at this blatant corruption of its politics. But when was it clean?

Don’t stop this idiot and one day his Taliban will enter our house and rape our daughters and sons because they are non-Maharashtrians. He will still play with his dog and speak only in Marathi – and the courts will absolve him – that’s how Indian courts are. Don’t protest and perish we all will.

Don’t worry people – he will better himself. He will reach newer heights of insolence and venality. Please elect him and reap rich rewards. He will soon create a new state called Maha-brashta where only the pure Aryan, Marathi speaking, Maharashtra born are allowed who drink his pure milk of human hate and indulge in ritual bashing of some migrant imported for the pure perverted pleasure of you know who; where the sun will never set on the Maha-brashtha empire.

Due to various terrorist threats from LET, JEM, HUM, HUJI etc India has finally decided to abandon the hallowed precincts of the parliament house – so far the epicenter of Indian democracy.

A Presidential ordinance has decreed that henceforth whatever little Parliamentary work gets done (after the heckling, walkouts, absenteeism and discussion on the content of sleazy reality shows) will be outsourced to a friendly nation that is not under the threat of extremism. According to preliminary reports of various consultancy firms, the situation looks grim. There are very few nations they say that can pass such an impossible filter.

Arctic and Antarctic is too cold our hot-blooded M.P’s have announced and promptly denounced such plans made by a panel that largely comprised of M.P’s from the north, used to the cold.

Meanwhile the terror groups are disappointed at the sudden turnaround and according to unconfirmed reports, recruitment in LET, JEM has fallen because of the sudden lack of interesting international targets. The de-motivated cadre is being promised newer enemies.

The Parliament House is slated to be converted into a impregnable fortress that no Indian or foreigner can see, touch, admire or destroy.

They are young. They are successful. They are articulate. They are icons.

Sonam Kapoor, the effervescent and nonchalantly retro-charmer of a girl and John Abraham epitomising bulging muscles and quiet dignity both endorse ‘fairness creams’.

Why would 2 seemingly intelligent people of this generation who spout socially conscious sentences at every journalistic intrusion do this? The obvious answer is money. That ancient temptation that has scorched us has beaten us once again.

And yet we tut tut ad nauseum at the attacks in Australia and anywhere else. When city bred youth, ironically in a profession that pays obeisance only at the altar of beauty thereby revealing its illusory transience, cannot take a stance against a skin whitening cream, what hope do we have from people who we say are mired in centuries old superstition.

Endorsing colas is almost divine.

…every which way.

A man allegedly rapes a woman working at his house. The channels go berserk calling her a ‘naukrani’ or ‘naukar. The heinous allegation almost being mitigated by the social position and of the girl and the nomenclature of her profession.  The media of the biggest democracy in the world doesn’t extend basic courtesies to victims of crime. In this case however they extended the same to both parties. For so long considered the repository of all things promiscuous – the film actor now has proved that he or she is indeed a vile, licentious animal that preys.

The perpetrator of this crime – Shiney Ahuja had to strangely be barefoot. That is the rule in India. An accused can’t wear shoes. What do shoes and guilt have in common? No idea. Anyways he still has to be chargesheeted, the case fought and the sentence delivered – a long way from now, some years probably – but why can’t he wear a shoe or a chappal for that matter.

India’s loss at the T20 World Cup. Another instance of the mob fury. Cricket is a sport. Cricketers are not gods. You win some and you lose some based on your strategy. Like petulant schoolboys with no emotional anchor finding solace in somebody else’s victory, they came out on the streets and burned the captain’s effigy.

It is not the mob alone that is to blame. It is the incessant analysis and counter – analysis, by ‘I-know-better-than-you’ ex-cricketers, who have to justify their payments, who hype the match and then impute reasons where there are none.  The self-feeding hype machinery of all media has to strike a balance between reporting responsibly and viewership targets.

I before you

I come before you – in the family, in the queue at Andheri or at the theater. I just hate to stand in the line and await my turn. I miss those wonderful days when I just jumped the line and did what I felt like – just like my favourite Sarkaar.

After all to repress is to regress. I spit frequently sitting in my car and auto. I After all, what are a few diseases. They make us stronger – unlike those whiny white or black Europeans weaned on cleanliness.

You think I am all of warts. I am religious – doesn’t that count? I pray day in day out and dump the garbage in the nearby Arabian Sea. Once it was clean, now its black, no make that soot black. God’s will I say. Kalyug at the corner.

I am a large – hearted person you see. I’ll show you. I love my religion and my caste also. People from ‘my’ region are treated with respect when they visit my house. People who pray ‘my’ god fare even better. All my friends eat what I like. Makes for a harmonious dinner table experience. We even – oh let it be. I am not like that.

I am an extremely fair person. After I hoard for myself and my family I distribute largesse to people who are faithful, who fawn and touch my feet. I like these customs – that make people bend down and touch my feet. Such powerful feelings of love overcome me then I cannot tell you. I write poems and scripts based on these.

Karan Johar was right. I correct myself, is right. Its all about loving one’s family – blindly. The country can go up in smoke but my family should be the 1^st. In cabinet births, in getting plane and train tickets, in coming out of jail at the earliest, in getting admission to a school or college, lineage is all.

Karunanidhi – the DMK supreme is a man of many quarters. He doesn’t believe in God, has a sense of humor by asking whether Ram and his monkey cohorts were holding engineering diplomas while constructing the bridge to Lanka, writes poems and scripts. You get the picture. He goes on to blackmail the nation and its people for a full week after the elections. Why? Because his blood are not in the cabinet. Or people who suck up to him.

They bargained hard and cost the nation dear. What is 10 days you say? Government formation is as big a task as winning the election. It is but natural for allies to seek their pound of flesh. So not having a working government when a cyclone is marauding through a part of the country is par for the course. Post victory when the entire country is looking for signs of stability and positive cues in times of recession one party goes for the jugular.

By standing firm Manmohan Singh has carried on from his electoral victory in Round 1. Don’t take me for granted – is the message. Respect me, respect the verdict and lets set an example – that the nation is waiting from us. Let us chart a new path. Let us at least try – young and old. The answer as one minstrel said is…

The comeback. It’s always difficult. Far too many examples around us to not see its relevance and I should add, the difficulty, if not the impossibility.

What should I write on? I had missed the most important and self-sustaining of all – the Indian Elections. Similarly with IPl.

Work takes a toll. I try to be the dedicated blogger – scouring my life and its elements to give me enough inspiration to forget that I am tired and and put some words to all the ideas. But I fail.

Coming back to the comeback theme. Ask Congress or BJP or Manmohan or Advani or Rahul or Prabhakaran.

Who would have thought that Mr. Singh will get what he got? Who would have given Rahul G the foresight to change the tables in UP.  Was Advani or the BJP over-confident? All of them wanted the grand comeback. To register themselves on the consciousness of the nation, but…

Prabhakjaran the man whom the cats envied finally ran out of lives. He thought that violence or his kind of violence will be greater than the miliraty/state violence of Sri Lanka but paid the ultimate price. Perhaps peace making a comeback his with death.

What does the comeback entail? Prescience or luck?

We of course can read the winds of change or status quo. We of course are also blinded by our own prejudices to either be indifferent to it or reject it outright. We of course being blinded read it any which way we like.

Some thought that strength is because of aggression, violence. And paid the price. That to if you reject one you automatically open the doors to the opposite. And failed on both counts.

Aam Aadmi or the Common Man or Woman – was it this much neglected entity who made a quiet comeback? Neglected, a lower citizen, perenially a seasonal electoral favourite it was this X factor that made a comeback – surprising everyone.

They pushed the youth, they sidelined violence and hate, rewarded the meek, silent one and tried to strike a balance – a middle path. It too shall be rocky. So lets hang on.

A long long time ago, tucked in the winter bed in Jamshedpur, I wondered – do Aliens exist? There of course was no answer. Parents, teachers, friends, elder siblings none had an answer. A few years later,  now an adult, I thought probably gods were aliens. They ruled on earth and then slowly abandoned earth in their technologically advanced ‘pushpak  vihanas’.

Yesterday I got the answer. Aliens do exist. And they are amongst us!! They reared their oh so common and innocent heads once again. Normally you would not be able to identify them. NO. They have 1 head, 2 eyes etc but…

They want to ban computers

Ban premium English schools

Ban agricultural equipment

Banning Mall culture

No share trading

Yes. This is the Samajwadi Party speaking to you. We want to build a new society ladies and gentlemen. Hark, hark – oh idiot Indians. Don’t mind the abuse for ‘IDIOT’ is in fact just the opposite. Just like our manifesto.

Please vote for me because I am going to take you back a few centuries back. Return to Nature is the key. We shall use bullock carts and increase acreage. We shall send our children to the most expensive english schools but your kids can go to hell.

We shall keep you poor, backward, helpless, illiterate, divided and year after year we shall come and ask for votes.  Every year we shall create a new enemy – Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, Brahmins, Thakurs, Educated, Urbanites, Biharis, Locals…

And you being the same miserable lot 5 years back will again fall for me – because I will at least help you survive – by throwing my largesse at you.

I will not let you be strong, independent, capable and efficient. You might dethrone me. I am the new Raja.

These are the people asking for our votes. Brazen anti-humanists who are impinging on our collective rights to live in an equal society.

At least now I know.

Jarnail Singh threw a shoe. Should he, a journalist, thought of his professional code first and foremost, repressed his anger and carried on reporting in a non-partisan manner? This is being ad nauseum on all the TV channels. Most ardently by Barkha and Arnab. Barkha, it seems, takes it as a personal affront – so zealously she guards her rarefied code. Arnab, artistically stuttering, goes with the flow of the arguments of his esteemed guests.

Jarnail Singh might not want to be a hero, but unwittingly, he has. 25 years and still counting and no justice. Enough for a reasonable man or a woman to feel angry, depressed, sad, waver, lose focus, feel helpless and uncared for, decide to take the one step that will define him perhaps for the rest of his life, stake everything on that one moment that one might later regret and yet steel oneself and do it because…he was just a man

Long live the protest of the individual soul.

Technical Committee on Lip Reading

The committee members are all watching the Varun Gandhi speech.

Peon comes with a plateful of samosas from Agrawal Sweets. Piping hot tea is also served. Some sealed and otherwise Bisleri bottles on tables.

Mr. Sharma: badhiya hai

Mr. Khan: KYA?

Sharma: arre samosa bhai

Mr. Khan: O.K

BEAT

Khan: samosa baad main bhi khaya ja sakta hai Sharmaji.

Somebody: shhh!

The screening ends

Ms. Singh: aur ek baar dekhen?

Mr. Mukherjee: what is there to see? It is to HEAR?

Ms. Singh: so do you want to hear, Mr. Mukherjee?

Mr. Khan: NAHIN. Main is tauheen ko ek baar bhi nahin dohrana chahta. Saboot sabke saamne hai.

Mr. Sharma: Kyon Mr. Fernandes kya ye tape sach hai?

Mr. Fernandes: prima facie it looks true but…we will have to investigate further before reaching any conclusion because there is a possibility, however slight, that highly capable techno-savvy tech-terrorists, hell-bent on sowing the seeds of division in this great country of ours, and mind you there are quite a few of them, might have tampered so very subtly with the actual contents of this tape, pardon me CD, that what looks true might actually be way off the mark if not completely untrue, so I request patience from the gentlemen here and not to forget the women, how could I forget them that instead of asking me whether it is true or not they should ask – ‘Is it possible’?

Mr. Khan: Is it possible?

Mr. Fernandes: of course it is possible.

Ms. Singh: so what you are saying is that the evidence presented here – in this CD is false?

Mr. Fernandes: I didn’t say that, No.

Mr. Sharma: to phir aap kya bo rahe hain?

Mr. Mukherjee: tum gol gol ghumata hai humko. English humko bhi aata hai. I studied in the Presidency College before you were even born you…confuse karta hai. Kitna paisa diya tumko Sharma ne?

Sharma: Mujherjee babu, zabaan ko lagaam dijiye…

Ms. Singh: oh please…Sharmaji rehne dijiye na.

Mr. Sharma: hamari asmita ko thes pahuncha rahe hain aur aap hain ki

Mr. Khan: aur ye jo bol rahe hain?

Mr. Sharma: kaun kya bol raha hai?

Mr. Khan: yahi…inka to naam bhi nahin liya jaata…kya laajawaab bhasha hai

Mr. Sharma: dekhiye Khaansaab saabit ho jaane dijiye phir bechare par…

Ms. Barat: saabit…andhe hain aap? Forensic ka bahana aur nahin chalega. 10 saal lag jayenge lekin kuch pata nahin chalega.

Mr. Sharma: dekhiye ye haal to pura des ka hai. Ab jawaan khoon hai ladka bhi hai…ho gayi ghalti…chodiye na

Mr. Mukherjee: hum jaata hai…tum log samosa khao, baat karo, mera meeting hai…

Mr. Khan: to kya hua? Ye masla suljhana zaroori hai

Mukherjee sits down

Ms. Barat: Mr. Fernandes. Briefly – is it tampered or genuine?

Mr. Fernandes: you see Ms. B…

Ms. Barat takes out a gun from her handbag and fires in the air. Everybody is shocked and scared.

Mr. Sharma: arre asli hai Madam…

Ms. Barat: KYA?

Mr. Sharma: bandook!

Ms. Barat: NAHIN. Footage asli hai?

Mr. Khan: aap jaisa chahen mohtarma…hamien koi aitraaz nahin hai…

Ms. Singh: is this happening?

Mr. Mukherjee: aah! she is a true revolutionary!

Ms. Barat: FFOTAAAAAAAGE!

Mr. Fernandes: Madam it is genuine, true but you see in India we cannot punish even 1 innocent man…

Fernandes slumps to the table. Everybody is shocked. Fernandes they realize is dead!

Ms. Singh: now what?

Mr. Khan: agli taarikh kabki rakhein?

Mr. Mukherjee: mujhe kya…I don’t care…

Ms. Barat: bandook nakli thi…really see

Mr. Sharma: aap bhi na…khair phir milte hain. Khansaab aapko chhod doon?

Mr. Khan: bilkul, shukriya.

It’s been a long time since I have keyed words to the screen. Lots has happened. The Indian elections are at hand. A great spectacle of nonsense. Why you might ask is the greatest exercise in democracy summarily being dismissed as nonsense. The aspirations of a billion people, 1/6th of the entire world will be dumped in ballot boxes. Isn’t that a reason to celebrate? Not any more. I am running out of patience.

I made a Facebook group a month or so ago called ‘Reveal the Manifesto’. 1 person a friend has joined it till today. Nobody else was interested in the group the purpose of which was to discuss the strange practice of Indian political parties – leaving old alliances and stitching new ones on perceived gains; to buffer against anti-incumbency; to have a better bargaining power etc and what not. And not releasing the MANIFESTO.

Where was the MANIFESTO I wondered? Nowhere. Some 2 weeks later the Congress released its please – all manifesto. Nobody debated it.

Because we are discussing the hate speech of Varun Gandhi. The entire 2009 elections seems to be about this 1 speech. It is indeed bizarre that no political party wants to change the discourse. The allegations and counter-allegations serve all political parties. One is the secular bandwagon and the other is the right wing. Nobody wants to say, O.K lets discuss policies, plans and vision for the country. Why? Because nobody has a vision and a plan.

Accusation, Spin and Propaganda – these are the 3 pillars of the current electoral process.

BJP: He is a weak prime minister. In fact, he is not.

Congress: He is not capable, hates people

Commies: we hate all.

BSP: make me the Prime Minister

The others, the regional parties are in it to get a better bargain later on. I am of course exaggerating. The state elections some time back were fought on ground realities and didn’t fall prey to any national wave. Even Sheila Dixit, won right after the 26th November 2008 assault on Mumbi after which security became the only talking point.

So what has happened? What has shifted since then? Nothing much.

Hate is a powerful tool. Shiv Sena, MNS, BJP, CPI(M), Congress all have blood on their hands. Old blood, new blood…we all have blood on our hands. So…lets all obfuscate and fool the public. Lets rail against each other. The public blinded will not go and vote. That lag will be covered by bogus voting. We will all win some seats. Oh we are falling short. Lets buy some people like us who are corrupt. There in the expensive resorts funded by rich capitalists we shall all get naked, swim in champagne and cheap liquor, fatten our outstation bank accounts and come back and reclaim our virginity – the media is by our side.

Why can’t we debate about health, education, development, rights, equity, environment, women’s rights, children’s rights, peace…are these invalid. Is growth, safety and equality not saleable? Are we blind as a nation? And it is not an urban – rural divide. There are more right wingers you will meet in a Mumbai local than in the fields of the hinterland.

I will not vote. And if you think by not voting I am not a part of the system you are wrong.