Suit yourself: A song

What is better for eyes? 20 pages of a pdf file printed on paper and then read, or staring directly at the screen? What is better for memory? 20 pages of printed matter from a soft copy, or soft copy directly read from the screen? What is better for the environment? 20 printed pages readable on paper or ...

Put Indians to Pray

I think the time has come when the world accepts India as an ultimate religious body since the country is an ultimate conglomeration of God lovers and fearers. For the greater good of all kind I am proposing here a greater intervention. Don't confuse war, politics, or humanitarian programmes, but a religious intervention where the world decides that the sole occupation which India's people should carry out for their lifetimes is to Pray. Yes, only Pray, and do nothing else. They, of course can take out time for their basic chores and some deserving entertainment, even procreation, but now high time has come they stop acting as engineers, scientists, doctors, even competitive sports  and so on because most of us suck at it. There is something called 'ethics' as well, which Indians suck at too. So, let us world citizens make an unanimous decision, like clever human beings transfer One Billion Indians of worries of praying to God -  whatever reason we pray for: peace, composure, sins, luck - and save precious time. Transfer of this Trust to our Indian brethren can perhaps bring Godly sanity to rest of the world.

Lock the River, don't look at it

The Saint, he came on my face,
angry we was shouting,
he says,
where is your head,
is your mind in place?
he frowns,
"see what have you done to my space
I used to pour holy water"


The Dog, he stared at me hard,
confused he looked,
he barks,
such his sound it rang in my ears,
why are you here man,
he growls,
"see what have you done to my space
I used to pour holy water"

The Shepherd, he didn't care,
had company a flock or goats and hare,
silence says,
the river and leaves they whistle,
I check my heart,
find it above my tummy,
sighs in relief, but he managed
to say,
"see what have you done to my space
I used to pour holy water"

I came, I think it being a dream,
having soul perhaps,
emptiness screams with sound of my teacher,
my father, my ancients,
which soothed it all,
my dream, tole me again,
"see what have you done to my space
I used to pour holy water"

Misunderstood a Doggie

When a Doggie dies,
no one cries,
when a Doggie lives,
somebody sneezes high.

This makes other Doggies grin,
to scratch their chin,
lift hind legs to pin,
somersaults for swing.

This makes Doggie spin,
makes all of us grin,
soon Doggie is pouncing,
scratching skin.

Then this Doggie growls,
thru his bowel not his soul,
also seems that Doggie’s on a prowl,
with this hollow howl.

Doggie shows large eyes,
full of surprises,
looks like some anger’s justified,
that can be legalised.

See closer in Doggie’s eyes,
they beg and sigh,
sure you shud sympathise,
and take him on a high.

Wireman

It was one lazy night, and I had to do this- pictures below - how a line (a-line-n) can be turned or twisted to make anything. Alien, man, dog and off-shoots.

Liberty downer

I don't understand this part of the doctrine of democracy. Why do some really want liberty downest to the lowest level of an individual, like, a man's? I suggest, we bring it downer; say, to a dog's level.

Teach your doggie well

Banjo is more like a child to me, and I have consciously tried to keep him as a freedom dog (which he usually abuses) and instill values in him rather than train him hardcore. You know what I mean - he will fetch your watch, purse or TV remote if you ask him to; has obsession with retrieving tennis balls, or for that matter any ball of any other type too. He is not chained usually. Nine months old, I hope he doesn’t turns out a brat.



This song above in YouTube is one of my favorite pieces, which I feel is because of the band’s genuineness in making a good song out of what they know is important. I am purty glad, the Wikipedia link is also a good place to understand the basis of the song. Greatness uncomparable, the next YouTube thing is more of a slimy but true thing. Because I have made it, just a parody, means some lyrics have to change too - just for the sake of some light hearted fun.


Author’s caution: Any attempt to seriousize this latter video is a misinterpretation, and cannot be helped.

You, who are on the road
Must have a Dog
that you can bite.
so, please bark on yourself
Because the guests
are just a goodbye.

Teach, your doggie well
Their master’s hell
will slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they will pick
The one in which they will bite.
Don't you ever ask them why
If they told you, you would cry
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you.

And you Of tender years
Won’t know the fears
That your masters grew by
And so help them with your youth
They seek the truth
Before they can die

Teach your parents well
Their children’s hell
Will slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they pick's
The one you’ll know by.

Don’t you ever ask them why
If they told you, you would cry
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you.

Deadly Trap!

A few posts back I had written this -

Heart-attack is a world-wide disease and event, phenomenon only to be underestimated in most parts of the world; with so called developed ‘west’ being the worst biggest victim, and emerging economies like India walking into the same booby trap.

Booby trap!... trust me, deadly it is.

Heart is like Ass

Most people are often bewildered when they hear of a close known one surviving a heart attack. And especially when one is in his early thirty’s. Surrendering their wisdom or judgment of ‘why-such-a-thing-happened-to-him?’ to a knowledge mostly acquired from cinema, theatre, books or some other emotional source. A while back, I used to think the same too.

Rather it could be useful to look at the factors which go into making of such an event. Incessant smoking, sleeping alternate nights, and that too for few hours, moving from a low fat diet country to a society where food control department is perhaps the most corrupt –in other words bad oil, bad traffic, shouting and picking up fights on the road, pollution too maybe among similar other things - not good for a typical machine to work healthily.

The second link in the chain is, good and timely medical care. Statistics say that, 75% of the people die of heart attack because in spite of the strange-pain they get, and which cannot be sleeped away, they still choose to ignore it. In other words, underestimate it, thereby burdening the argument on a person’s lifestyle as the main cause. And, of factors not easily discernable - of which ‘emotions’ is one.

Well, there is nothing emotional about it. ‘Heart-break’ is different from ‘Heart-attack’.

Perhaps for an easy comparison, - one’s ‘Heart’ is like one’s ‘Ass’. Body organs either, they are only yours you know, and it is up to you to keep em safe.

To reprise a Quote

Sometime back, a man was so determined in collecting hay that it finally became a heap. Taller than he, he wanted to burn it fast. Hardly realizing that in the process, he had already done all the donkey work for someone else to take the honors. He could put out the fires , thereby saving most his hay -but in the mayhem getting his fingers burnt.

Beaten up, beaten down

Bret Lee throws a bouncer every ball because Bhajji irritates him. This is because, Bhajji earlier had a verbal argument with Bret’s friend Andrew. Andrew is an aborigin by origin. Andrew complains that Bhajji called him Monkey – a racial slur – while Bhajji insisted he was misinterpreted. He only called Andrew as ‘Maa-ki’ (means ‘Mother’s…’ - An Indian slur, not racial, something like ‘son-of-a-….’). Now Bhajji is really scared of Bret because he has to face another bouncer which may break his head.

Well, these fighting people, even if they don’t want to, have to face each other. Their encounters fetch all some good money. They travel to each other’s countries, play cricket and are loved by people in both. They are their stars.

We know Bhajji, like Bret or Andrew on the other side, loves his motherland. So he stays where he belongs. But his friends are not as successful or famous like him. Although the friend belongs to a well-to-do and an ambitious society, he exercises his option to travel to migrate to countries where he can earn more, and live better. One such place Australia, he meets Bret’s and Andrews friends. Some are unemployed, and have to go to job-centers to look for work. Bhajjis migrant friend may have to go there too. Plus, they meet at many other places, like marketplace, pubs, streets and so on. Most are unable to make good friends, because their different upbringing and thereupon, the culture makes them different people. Similar to Bangladeshis and Africans, who come to Bhajji’s country looking for work. Oh, how can I forget, Bhajji’s own country has its own internal migrants too.

There are small skirmishes and fist fights between these culturally different people. Some fights flare up as big ones, some bigger ones into protests.

And, critics and writers get some material to write.

Dying because of …

Hey, in my recent post on Beat of India did I mention that the folk music is dying? Because the people who sing it are starving! Or, is it because of this urban air now today?

The answer my friend may blow in the wind, and that’s why Bobji sings an important line in the last para of his "let me die in my footsteps"- Go out in your country where land meets the sun …

Going digital

Man wanted to draw, so he drawed on the dusty ground. The scribbles didn’t stay for long, also he wanted to colour them. So, he started to draw on the rocks or caves walls. Then lots of time passed, and he found himself drawing on the paper, or on the cloth. He devised better colouring pens too. The paper became an ultimate medium and was transportable. Now comes the time, when he can draw on a digital tablet. It is water proof, has colours aplenty, there’s additional glow and the pictures need only a few seconds to make a full circle of the globe. The only hitch, he has no time to draw.

Quoted

Who cares about the quality, but, has anybody said this before?

To do something big, you just need that spark you know you can manage. Rest is collecting hay.

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.

Throw some light here as well, please

My last post day-before could well have been a rant. But, last night I spent in a village which hasn’t seen its own electricity ever, except a community solar lamp defunct since last 2 months. Villagers charge their mobile phones from the neighbouring village shop 3 kilometers away, to which they usually walk, because cycles are a little expensive, or not needed.

Today 50 kilometers away, here in Saharsa there was no electricity for most of the day, and also the night.

And all over the world, they are switching off their lights for an hour to bring awareness about climate change.

Here. I am only asking for a small change.

Because, atleast blog readers are more understanding human beings, and I hope they didn’t keep their laptops on while their house lights were switched off. I think, bloggers are better people than the sarkari officials because aleast I can reach to them! The latter I know are bad with computers, busy with elections, conducting inter exams peacefully, and are signing, signing and just signing...

This land is your land – let it flood.

Land, other than atmosphere and water, is arguably the most obvious physical entity that connects heavily to the universe. Eventually it belongs to no-one, or inversely, everyone, and probably though its ownership is never affirmative stays with the affirmative.

I recall Bihar, then the Indian history, and now these recent contemporary times that it is the holding of this land that can be blamed as the root cause of all the conflicts; within the guise of being a thankful source of pride and food. This want to call the land his own has given the man a tendency to divide, and for which he even won’t hesitate the third time to kill, even within his family too. Some people will make use of the second chance to agree and then to migrate.

So, if a flood comes and submerges this land, isn’t it helping solve the problem in a way? The setback is that this water eventually drains to the sea.

Need a break

Where does the busy working man (woman included) of today wants to spend his holidays? Either on tranquil camping, or in safari parks, or the hotel destinations? The modern man, seems doesn’t want to or cannot take it anymore to care about. He just needs a break.

Letter to god - India Temple Stampedes

Temple stampedes are common in India. The legacy now more explicit, thanks to the easily accessible news media of today.

What guidelines the government should, if it does, issue to the crowded gatherings? And, more importantly, to the institutions called temples? A nice and a respectable letter for the latter to put up signs, provide sufficient exit routes, or install loudspeakers to remind the mass that escape is easy if an incidence happens - and a stampede wholly avoidable?

While the current shame and blame game will continue, we will forget as time passes, and somewhere it will happen again. Also, chances are, this ‘nice and respectable letter’ will be seen as state's interference on religious matters. Meanwhile, the god, safe, smiling and pretending, has his right hand raised emitting the unseen aural beam. Bend, is trying his best. He has his table tennis racquet, desperately trying to deflect the beam -

- Ping : Shouldn't the health ministry draft a memo and issue it asap?

- Pong : Or does the mass needs a divine intervention in the 21st century ?

- Ping : Is there another better way to deal with this?

- Pong : Just needs some common sense from mass and priests?

Made in China

Nowadays, wherever I go to a new city to visit , let it be Los Angeles, Dubai, Rome or Delhi; I would, by-default, step in some or the other souvenir shop to have a glance what they are selling. Time would pass, and 5000 years later when the earth's plates would have shifted considerably, the archaeologists (or, as I prefer to call 'cosmico-archaeologists') would be coming back to earth to trace civilizations, and gather facts to clarify their current debate whether once they inhabited it or not; on digging would find a few inches big Taj Mahal, or Al Burj hotel, or the miniature Hopi Indian or lord Krishna or Big Ben. All having solidly engraved in them – ‘Made in China’.