PM (Politics and Media)

Sometimes to see clearly, one should allow time for the dust to clear out. And as the dust settles, you will see again the same respected blue turban man appear who you had been seeing for last five years. Zoom close to chachaji’s face – it is not smiling but looks like a smiley, and his two finger ‘v’ sign, looks more like Churchill’s than his own.

A month before, before the dust had cleared, or even had begun to gather, the Indian media was trying its best speculating every other visible politics practitioner as the next PM, except the most obvious man - man the mohan ... One assumption that comes out discussing this in evening with company and suttas is that by publicizing about all the gimcracks in the fray, India’s beneficent media is all out with blazing guns to destroy each. Or, may be it has taken up the task on to itself to find the one, the real one, to run (or represent) the country.

Whoever, ideally, more productive would have been constructive discussions of the manifestoes and visions between the turbaned and the rival baldy, and the others (remember it is multiparty); or their respective parties. Then, even if quality of news we see everyday doesn’t improves, at least the politics would.

Prabhakaran is dead

Of the eight elite (the english channels on my sky-tata) this afternoon four were constantly showing the dead body of the man-eater from the National Jaffna park reserve. On all these channels, dead Prabhakaran looked more alive than dead, at least for some moment. Laid on a stretcher, lips upwards, his eyes were open with eyeballs trying to look up, only making half-way because the bullet that had pierced his head was much faster.

Again, the sensationalisation by media persists more on the encounter, the war, the evil, the bad or the good, leaving a much lesser room to observe or talk to the average 5 feet Sri Lankan or Tamil , whatever you want to call them.

Then, comes to mind Kateri Akiwenzie Damn’s last liner in the TOI Ahmedabad edition - "We belong to our land. The land does not belong to us." ...

Three meals a day in Ahmedabad

Having his breakfast omelette a man calls up Radhe builders for a new flat they built in Ahmedabad. The builder responds to the mobile call which he had missed, and to the man's enquiry asks -

"Sir, what’s your caste?"
"you guess from my name I just told you? "
"Are you Gujarati?"
"Yes."
"But you sound Punjabi."
"Yes I am a Punjabi too, a French as well, even an Indian."
"Oh that’s fine."
"Do you eat non veg?"
not expecting a wrong line to a restaurant -"Oh! am I really speaking to Radhe Builders?"
"Yes, you are."
"Oh! If I am a muslim and a vegan too, then?"
"It is my right to sell."
"Well dude, you are selling your property to public."
Click! - the man cuts the phone line, thinking - what's the point speaking to a few, who are like the few fishes who spoil the whole pond. Nothing new, Phew!

The man lets the lunch pass because it was too hot.

Evening for dinner in a completely outdoor café at the Hussain Doshi gufa – a symbol of liberty and freedom where elites from the city sit and chat in the evening. Mellow fusion music resonates and trees blow with nice wind. There is an arty board, which reads, ‘No smoking’. The man and his friends light up their cigarettes. Since last ten years they have always smoked their fags at the same spot. The waiter returns with the change.
"You stubb your cigarette. "
"Why? "
"No smoking here."
"Who says."
"It’s written there."
"Who wrote it there?"
"Well that’s the rule."
"This is not an indoor restraunt. We are leaving anyways. "
The man and his friends finish their fags, and smoke another one outside the gate.

And here I present India, a land where three meals a day is a custom! Wasn't each one exciting, and full of moral policing the peoples need ?

A tribute to Indian Folklore

India, it lives in its villages,
romantics say in a quirky tone.
No! it dies in its villages,
realists sigh and moan.

If both could be right,
then who would be wrong.
Maybe the truth lies with,
the villager and his own folk song.

ladies and jantlemen, I present to you "Bhola Rajak. From Hariraha village in Madhepura district, Bihar, India. In the video (Courtesy and thanks to Kamal for the capture and the angle within) - see the typical country rock style in showcase.

The other is an audio file – a ballad on the famous and unfortunate 2008 river Koshi floods in Bihar. I will title it as 'char bhavani' It’s a big task to pen the lyrics but in the nutshell -

The Koshi dam breaks – four sisters find themselves on a bamboo raft – below is flood waters on which the raft sails, on top is a snake - Further down stream, looters are looting the stuff that flows with water - They see the girls and now want to balatkar (rape) them – The girls are scared because cornered now they have no-where to go – The snake bites the goons – This snake is an incarnation of Lourd Krishna.

If you would like to promote this one amazing performer let me know, I will contact Bhola Rajak. I am not sure how he would react.

The Tamil cause

Native to Indian part of Himalayas I can argue why Tamils should matter to me when the cause of Tibet or Nepal doesn’t concern my South Indian brothers. I remind myself, that as a responsible citizen of a responsible democracy we would belong to the bourgeois and so it is our duty to worry about our countrymen’s stakes, beliefs and relations across the borders in an ethnically similar country. Actually, somewhat in same ways as G.W.Bush ascribed for Iraq and then what is happening there.

The concerned English speaking Indian news channels, show the concerned Karuna-nidhi (the name implies wealth of compassion) fasting and lying sideways, probably sleeping along with meditating, the under navel portion of his white kurta waved expressing the peacefulness of the air he enjoys in India. Opposition is not in same peace and so the others, average height five feet, in groups of many, lying sideways in the makeshift, one can argue relief camps.

All probably silently singing, the answer my friend, is blowing in the wind…

Or, probably the bourgeois amongst likes of Tibetans, or as far as Anglicans, or perhaps Sinhalese singing that they could be the the best ones to decide the fate of Tamils who could not sort this out for themselves.

Just for some feel, see two distinctive points of views [POV 1], [POV 2] . And it becomes apparent how another confused Indian foreign policy legacy continues. For bad than for the worst.

For the average five feeters trapped within the war zone, flying bullets and shells, whichever directions it comes from is fatal. After this war is over, they will have simply apparent choices. To be either refugees, or tigers transmogrified into guerrillas. The obvious bourgeois message will soon be - after you have been helped, don’t degrade yourself as a guerrilla because you were a tiger for so many years. Become a refugee in India or Sri Lanka to work as landless labourers, and contribute to this great South Asian poverty.

Paradox that is Indian elections

Rahim: So, did you vote?

Ram: What is the point? Is there anyone worth to whote for?

Rahim: Ha ha … well, that is exactly the challenge in voting in Indian elections!… heh heh

Narrator: Therefore - since in these elections the challenge is not to the candidates, but to the voter purely, therefore, true democracy exists.