VT’s blog

The British are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats in Islamabad and have raised their security level from “Miffed” to “Peeved.” Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to “Irritated” or even “A Bit Cross.” Brits have not been “A Bit Cross” since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from “Tiresome” to a “Bloody Nuisance.” The last time the British issued a “Bloody Nuisance” warning level was during the great fire of 1666.

The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from “Run” to “Hide.” The only two higher levels in France are “Collaborate” and “Surrender.” The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France’s white flag factory, effectively paralysing the country’s military capability. It’s not only the French who are on a heightened level of alert.

Italy has increased the alert level from “Shout loudly and excitedly” to “Elaborate Military Posturing”. Two more levels remain: “Ineffective Combat Operations” and “Change Sides.”

The Germans also increased their alert state from “Disdainful Arrogance” to “Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs.” They also have two higher levels: “Invade a Neighbour” and “Lose.”

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual and the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels .

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

Americans meanwhile are carrying out pre-emptive strikes on all of their allies, just in case.

And on the other side of the globe …

New Zealand has also raised its security levels from “baaa” to “BAAAA!” Due to continuing defence cutbacks, the airforce being down to a squadron of spotty teenagers flying paper aeroplanes and the navy just a few toy boats in the Prime Minister’s bath, New Zealand only has one more level of escalation, which is “Shit, I hope Austrilia will cimm ind riscue us”.

Australia, meanwhile, has raised its security level from “No worries” to “She’ll be right, mate.” Four more escalation levels remain: “Crikey!” “We’ve run out of snags for the barbie,” “I think we’ll need to cancel the barbie this weekend” and “The barbie’s cancelled!” There has not been a situation yet that has warranted the use of this final escalation level.

“I am fine, alive and kicking. Big time.” That’s my usual response to the phone calls I make to friends and family back home. Obviously, the tele-question from the other hemisphere is the same,  “Being the ratass Indian that you are, haven’t you already managed to get your arse kicked by those Rugby playing Aussies? You know all the ‘racist attacks’ reports in the media and all that.”

Mind you, being an Indian and living in Australia is not exactly easy these days. Surprisingly, not because of Australia itself, but due to the Indian media.

Let me explain.

As I write this piece there is a story about an Indian toddler being lost and found dead a few kilometres away from home. The kid was a visitor’s kid, not a resident’s kid.  Incidentally, on the same night, another Aussie kid was found dead too. Now. I HOPE this is not portrayed like a racist violence by the Indian Media.  I have lived in many corners of India and I know such events don’t even make it to the Page 10 of a newspaper. And believe me, the Aussie TV reporters actually looked truly sorry and almost apologetic. I would be maha happy if the Desi ‘know-it-all’ journo showed even 10% of the sensibility and sensitivity. 

I am not even trying to make a casual and ill-informed blabber about blaming it all to the 4^th estate. I am not talking about madhouse ‘Breaking News’ TV channels either. I happen to be one of the old world guys who still prefer the print media. 

That’s where I felt disappointed by the cover story of my fav mag, Outlook. I did not like it at all when Outlook came up with that cover story called ‘Why the Aussies hate Us’ or some crap like that. They, in the Aussie TV channel flashed that cover story and they even had an interview with the editor, Vinod Mehta (a guy I truly admire). But on that night, he almost managed to sound like the Thackrays, the clan he claims to despise. To say it in the Dilli lingo, ‘he cut a sorry figure’. He did not even have his journalistic facts right.

Anyway, this will not end. So let me move on and say what I have felt.

Let me begin with the blatant confession. We NRI desis suck. Big time. At least the majority of us. Every desi bugger I meet in these countries only talk about three topics – (1) money (saving), (2) traffics rules (“take exit 5.  Do u know what an ‘exit’ means?”) and (3) about keeping something called an ‘Indian Culture’ alive (I could never figure that one out). Very few desis actually try to integrate with the local culture; we live a very ‘boxed’ existence. Quite unlike the other Asian and African immigrants who (in spite of their linguistic shortcomings), do try to integrate. Simple things like trying to dress as per the local customs and norms.

Speaking specifically of the Australian so called ‘racist’ violence against Indians. I have spent some time in Melbourne (the eye of the storm) and had the opportunity to see things at ground zero. I talked to few of my Indian friends there. They all had one common thing to say – “The guys who are getting beaten up deserve to get beaten up.” Sounds insensitive.

The observation went on in similar vein:  the guys who are getting battered are students. It is student violence, not racist violence.

Now, Australia is famous for many things – sports, beers, bikini babes, and its vast natural wonders. But Australia is not exactly known for its academic excellence. No Ivy League stuff here, really. It does not take much common sense to figure out the kind of the kind of students who generally land here. Very few are actually interested in studies. Those who are, study and do well. Whether from Bhatinda or Warangal, the other significant variety of students who came here have only one purpose in life – to somehow secure an Australian PR (Permanent Residency).  For the life of me, why else some Indian student will come here to do a Six Month Diploma is Hairdressing?

These are the kind of students who resort to hooliganism, and carry the usual Indian sex-starved stereotype of assuming that every White woman is dying to get laid. They try to do funny stuff with the locals and end up in not-so-funny situations.

One Indian taxi driver had even more appalling stories to tell. Being a Punjabi who has been driving taxis in Melbourne for many years, he obviously has seen the city’s underbelly, up close and personal. What exactly happens in those dingy lanes, no one knows better than a cabbie. This guy told me that many of these fights are actually fights ‘within’ the Indian students themselves. As he put it dryly, ‘ladki ke liye chaaku baaji’. He also mentioned horror stories of Indian students being involved in immigration related frauds, blackmailing etc. He even narrated a story of an Indian guy here who tried to burn his own car (to make an Insurance claim) and ended up burning himself and getting wounded. The story was carried out in the Indian media as a racist violence. The Aussie media showed that event in great details and they even had video footage of this guy buying a can of petrol on the same night. Obviously, Indian media chose to ignore that.

As usual, every story has two sides to it. It is true that some actual incidents of violence have taken place. Some of them are racist in nature too. But those are rare and far between. It is more a matter of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. It can happen in any city in the world. If you try to mess around with a group of drunken Rugby fans on a Saturday night, you don’t really expect to get away with a kiss on the cheek.

One simple question, “why is this happening only to Indians?” Why not people from other countries? Chinese vastly outnumber Indians here. Why doesn’t it happen to them? The usual smug repose is that “because Indians are smarter Aussies and do better then them. That’s why the Aussies feel insecure.” This may be partially true. But this is not the complete truth.

Australia is not USA, the Land of Opportunities. The brightest Indian brains land up in the US, not down-under. There has to be another other reasons for the Indian student hullaballoo.

On top of that, I get to hear that Balasaheb, the self appointed King of the Isle of the Manoos, has been as usual foaming at the mouth against the so called ‘racist’ Aussies, and demanding not to allow their cricket team to play in Mumbai. Now, somebody who has built an entire political career based on one single emotion called hate, [hate the Madrasis (utha lungi, baja pungi), hate the Muslims, hate those screwed up Bhaiyas (doodhwalas) from the North], does not really have much moral authority to cry foul over other people’s hatred. It does sound bizarre to me when he declares Aussies to be ‘hateful’. Is it a question of pot calling the kettle black?

Time for some serious look inward? Certainly time for Indian TV channels to go back to their ‘Little-Prince-fell-into-a-ditch’ kind of news stories and not add to the fuel and make life more and more difficult for Indians abroad.

They say that a time of crisis is also a time for a hell lot of reflection.

Look at it this way; yesterday, the rag called TOI reported that there has been a manifold rise in the sale of books about Marxism in the last few moths. This, allegedly, is the aftereffect of the global economic meltdown.

Our Desi Marxists claim that India remained largely unaffected because of the Left's restraining effect on the Govt's aggressive liberalization moves. The feeling seems to be similar world-wide. With the US doling out truckloads of Federal dollar bills to bail out Banks, the Land of Opportunities is becoming more socialist than ever. Even Nicolas Sarkozy has been dropping hints that Socialism wins over Market Capitalism.

Marx seems to be making a comeback. A mellowed-down Marx, at least.

Marx or no Marx, socialism and altruism have always had an oomph factor. A report said that people who have a streak of altruism are considered to carry more sex appeal [Altruism enhances sex appeal]. Wow, never thought it that way. Altruism, charity and socialism are sexy!

The Ayn Rand admirer may find her/himself cool as hell, but sexy s/he is not. Given a choice between being un-cool and un-sexy, I think most people would opt for being uncool.

A bit of political autobiography here: like all good middle class boys of my generation (the one that grew up in the oh-so-boring 1980's); I too was given a heavy dose of socialist fundas. USSR was the Promised Land in those days. Mir Publishers dished out great books that cost slightly more than peanuts.

And we lived in 'Sovereign, Secular, Socialist, Democratic Republic of India'- the official name of the country. [These days, I am slightly iffy about the words Socialist and Secular.]

In those days, one had to be a Marxist, or at least a Socialist, to be considered an intellectual. A 'capitalist intellectual' was an oxymoron. I certainly fancied myself an intellectual.

Then came the 1990s, bringing along Dr. Singh and PVN, and market reforms. And I got confused. India had started taking its first steps towards Market Economy. That made me curious. I read and went around on a fact finding spree. Suddenly, words like egoism, selfishness, money and materialism were not dirty at all. In fact, they were good words and supposed to save the world from its wretched misery! I agreed.

All was going hunky dory, till someone whispered, 'the economy is screwed, so are we'. And the Marxists got a 'I told u so' glow on their smug faces!

Whoever said, 'If you not a communist at 20, you are heartless; if you are still a communist at 40, you are brainless', was a real smart bloke. Thank goodness I am well within that age boundary and still have a few years to go before I choose between being heartless or being brainless.

As of today, I consider myself a rightwinger, who occasionally shifts sides on a case to case basis. But mainly a Rightist.

Net net bole to slightly confused between the two extremes. It is a tough choice- the one between being uncool and unsexy. Why does it always have to be an either/or situation? And no, 'this too shall pass' is too lame a way to look at it. Funnily, this too shall pass. I know.

Nothing works better than a bit of controversy. And controversy is exactly what everyone has been hunting for. Everyone, almost everyone, is just waiting for an opportunity to get pissed at a drop of a hat/pagri/ topi/whatever.

Some people are maha angry because of a lousy movie called Jodha Akbar. I must congratulate all those who were terribly interested to sit through a very long movie which talked about a (factual/fictional?) love story of a bored king.

The great king, after all, needed to get involved in some true-blue romance; taking time off from all the darbars, wars and opium shots. It must have been quite a task with hundreds or perhaps thousands of concubines doing god-knows-what in the harem.

There is another twist in the tale. The greater than greatest Salman Rushdie says something else: no one called Jodha ever existed.

[Quote]

The Jodhaa Akbar controversy has suddenly taken a literary twist, with Salman Rushdie's short story in the New Yorker recently. Believed to be an extract from his forthcoming novel, Enchantress of Florence, Rushdie sheds new light on the epic love story.

Did Jodhaa really exist? Yes, says Rushdie- in Akbar's imagination.

She was the ultimate male fantasy, not the woman “of big breasts and a small brain” that boys dream of, but an emperor's erotic fantasy dreamt up by a bored Akbar, stealing traits from his many queens in the harem: sensuous, mistress of the Kamasutra, especially the art of unguiculation.

[Unquote]

I learnt a new word ' unguiculation- which means "using the nails to enhance the act of love”. Phew!

Apart from that, I also got to learn that History is a bitch.

Everyone seems to have one's own version of history. The version depends on prevailing socio-political situations and of course, personal/organized faith systems.

This 'versioning' of history thing also provides good fodder to the religious fundamentalists to peddle their own little agendas.

These controversies become even more 'with it' when we have debates happening between states and CMs. Who can forget the rubble that was raised over the very existence of Lord Ram? If people do believe that there was a time when monkeys wore dhotis and built bridges using floating stones, so be it. But Karunanidhi was not too pleased with that version and made some infuriating remarks against Ram Himself, doubting his engineering skills and making supposedly blasphemous remarks about Lord Ram's drinking habits.

Oh, that thin line between history and mythology! The saffron brigade needed just that to make a hell lot of protests. The mandatory bus burning ritual had to follow. Hay Ram!

The other day, I read that Pakistani history text books say that History 'begins' somewhere around 600 AD when the Prophet was born. Before that, every one was a barbarian. They also mention that Pakistan came into 'being' when the Arabs under Mohammad bin Qasim occupied Sind and Multan somewhere around the 7^th Century.

Aurangazeb is portrayed as a villain in Indian history books. He is a hero in Paki text books.

The rebellion of 1857 is called the 'First War of Independence' by Indians. The Brits thought it was just a tiny 'mutiny' involving only a few thousand overtly religious sepoys.

Similar contrasting views are held about Shivaji, Gandhi, Mao, Netaji Bose, Bhagat Singh and a lot of people.

One could go on and on with other examples.

Each man's version of history is different from the next one. It all depends on the man's socio-political bent. Ultimately, it is the politics of the day that decides what history ought to be.

Politics is the mother of history. What say?

What fun re baba! I could die giggling.

Imagine a routine and mundane affair like the Republic Day parade in saddi Dilli. Every year, some foreign Head of State comes and watches a hell lot of soldiers, kids and folk-dancers do their bits at the Rajpath. But the visiting head of state this year wow! This is true-blue hip, bawa.

Look at the cool dude and hot babe in the picture. Are they Hollywood hotties? Nope. That's the French president Nicolas Sarkozy and his girlfriend Carla Bruni!  This is what I call ultra cool. Super!

Oh Lord, give every country in the world a hot Prez with a super hot girlfriend like that! That single step could do wonders to bring permanent 'World Peace' everyone keeps dreaming about all the time. With a girlfriend like that, who the hell needs a boring nuclear missile?

I almost tried to imagine some desi political leader doing cool stuff like this. Flaunting his girlfriend, that is.

Not a bad idea, although most of them poor desi dudes, by the time they reach national level, are already 80+. Btw, it's not that desi politicians do not have affairs. Quite a few are involved with a lot of women, but all that is a under the cover, you know what I mean. Quite a few of our politicians have been known to keep girlfriends. Why only girlfriends, some of them are rumored to keep rakhails or concubines too! As usual, none of that happens in public in saddi country. All hush-hush, parda-daalo kind of stuff!

This secrecy makes a lot of sense in India. Why to make a pomp and show about a girlfriend? Last time the poor Richard Gere kissed Shilpa baby, he had his effigies burnt by self-appointed keepers of something called an 'Indian Culture'. Other women around the world kept wondering how much they are willing to pay to get kissed by Richard Gere. Phew!

When the French Prez decided to visit India to watch the Republic Day parade and the guest list included his girlfriend too, we almost had a blushing-n-flushing fest happing among Dilli's diplomatic and political circles.

Toba-toba! What if she lands here and goes around hugging and kissing him. What to call her? Is she the First Lady? The First Girl Friend? Or just the First name?

Rediff says: 'It could well have been a diplomatic puzzle for India. But the French president’s girlfriend’s rather timely decision to skip the India tour came as a relief for South Block. Had she come as a president’s girlfriend, India would have struggled with problems of protocol.'

Had she actually came along with him would have been real fun. I am still trying to imagine our economist PM, Opposition leader Advani Ji, the Madame herself, and of course Mrs Patil the Rastrapati (!!)' all of them sheepishly blushing and grinning in front of a hot French Prez and his hotter girlfriend!

However, many a diplomatic hassles and confusions later, the mandarins at MEA found out that she will visit separately, sometime later perhaps. That will be a private visit; you know private visits need not follow protocol and all.  It is then that the French couple will go through the mandatory getting-themselves-clicked-in-front-of-the-Taj-Mahal ritual. Yawn.

Bah! Junk that protocol what a killjoy!

Prelude: With due apologies to all the Hollywood Westerns, cowboys, saloon-shootouts and the Wild West.

The setting of my story (!!) is different. The world is beginning to 'look east' now, even Client Eastwood would agree. Let's go and check out the Wild East. The horses have been replaced with HH (Hero Honda) motorbikes, but those are minor technical details.

Somewhere around the lower side of the Gangetic Plains is the region called the Wild East. Patna is the big city- wild, crooked, mean- as any self respecting big city ought to be.

About a hundred miles from downtown Patna, there lives a really crooked man. People themselves have voted him to power- it's a democracy, after all. He is the local MLA, Bahubali Tiwari. 

Like all self respecting politicians, Bahubali Tiwari has several rookies too. One of his right hand man's left hand man happens to be Gullu Yadav. He is the third-rate chamcha of the chamcha.

Gullu Yadav is the local terror. Everybody knows that he is the man behind all the kidnappings and murders- but no one dares say a word. Gullu Yadav believes that he has the 'fastest draw in the Wild East'.

Enter the Sheriff- Daroga Singh, the honest cop. His salary sucks but he still fancies honesty. He finds no fun in stopping trucks on the highway and asking for a 50 rupees ghoos. He has bigger dreams and he wants to do brave stuff- like actually being the fastest draw in the Wild East.

Daroga Singh finally got an official order to arrest Gullu Yadav.

The hamlet by the potholed highway doesn't really have too many saloons where people can do cool stuff like saloon shootouts. However, there is a 'Raju Hair Cutting Saloon' which is strategically located between the dhaba and the booze shop. Raju’s saloon is where Gullu Yadav and his cronies gather for their hooch.

Daroga Singh knows the whereabouts of Gullu’s gang; he takes out his HH and throttles towards Raju’s.

The Wild East is famous for its HHs. Only powerful folks own an HH because the hoi polloi are too scared of buying it. Strange motorbike- it gets stolen on the day of purchase. The HH engines make the best gensets in the world, you know.

Daroga Singh stops near Raju’s and looks around. There are at least 10 HHs parked there. All brand new bikes; picked up by Gullu’s gang in their last weekend trip to downtown Patna.

Gullu Yadav and his gang are sipping desi daru at the adda.

Daroga Singh checks his service revolver, which has never been used. It has six bullets. He coolly lights his bidi and takes a long drag. He rolls the bidi left-right-left between the corners of his lips. Gullu looks up and Daroga casually pulls up the holster of his service revolver and says, "Is this your lucky day, punk?"

Gullu laughs back at him and says, "Look at this asshole… Daroga Singh! I am yet to figure out how to kill him. What do you say, Daroga, how would you like to die?"

Daroga takes another long drag on his bidi  and says, "Go ahead punk, make my day." He does a real quick draw.

Gullu draws his country pistol- the katta. That same katta that was made with the handle bar of the old Hercules bicycle Gullu's father was so proud of. Gullu fires, "Bang"! The katta misfires. It not only misfires, it explodes. The splinters, charras, from the bullet fly in all directions. Gullu is badly hurt. He falls down and dies instantly. Daroga Singh murmurs, "Do you feel lucky, punk?"

There is panic in Gullu's gang, they run out of Raju's and kick start their HHs. Daroga follows on his own HH. It was a long chase. Gullu's team stops in front of Bahubali Tiwari's house. There are three Mahindra Scorpios and two Tata Sumos parked outside Bahubali’s residence.

Gullu's gang leaves the ten-odd HHs at Bahubali Tiwari's residence, which would soon be converted to gensets. They pick up the Scorpios and drive off.

Daroga Singh watches the entire show and lights another bidi. He knows his boundaries end here. He takes a long drag from the bidi, kick starts his HH and rides into the sunset.

The usual task of cleaning the mail-box of junk always throws a few surprises. I came across this very old forwarded joke. It is about this game of renaming places that our politicians love playing all the time.

I start with quoting parts from the e-mail forward. It is about Mumbai in 2050 AD, the city has already been renamed to Chhatrapati Shivaji Mahanagar (formerly Bombay City). It goes somewhat like this:

[quote]

the State government announced its plans to rename the Prince of Wales museum as the Chhatrapati Shivaji Vastusangrahlaya. So now we have that in addition to the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, the Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, the Chhatrapati Shivaji Domestic Airport, and who knows what else.

If this trend continues, we may reasonably speculate what it will be like in 2050 AD

My name is Chhatrapati Shivaji. My father’s name is Chhatrapati Shivaji. All other names have long since been outlawed.

I wake up everyday at 6:30 am CST (Chhatrapati Standard Time) to go to my school: Chhatrapati Shivaji Vidyalaya. It was a little confusing getting there at first, because all schools in the city have the same name. But once I got directions, it was fine.

All I have to do is go down Chhatrapati Shivaji Road, make a left turn at Chhatrapati Shivaji Chowk, go straight till Chhatrapati Shivaji Marg, until I reach Chhatrapati Shivaji School. Once I got lost and found myself at Chhatrapati Shivaji Chowk instead of Chhatrapati Shivaji Road. Silly mistake, when I think about it [contd.].

[end quote]

It's a pretty long writ-up actually, quite amusing and apt. The rate at which places and buildings are being renamed, I think the entire country will soon become a mega bore. That would be quite an achievement, I am sure. It is not an easy task to convert the most colorfully varied country in the world into a perfect monotone.

From now on, techies in the US will not cry over the fact that their jobs have been Bangalored. Now their jobs will be 'Bangalurued'. I am sure none of the Yanks will be able to pronounce that!

Almost all our major cities have been renamed. Thank god Delhi still is called the same- can't be too glad about it, we never know when someone comes up with the grand idea of renaming it too.

The funny part is the lack of creativity when comes to selecting the new names. Often, the new names are based on some oldie political leader or a local legendary warrior hero. What do we end up with? Truckloads of Mahatma Gandhi Road/Hospital/Nagar/Chowk/Whatever.

Of course a lot depends on the regional socio-political scene too like in Calcutta, (oops Kolkata), almost everything has something to with Netaji Subhash Bose or Rabindranath and an occasional Lenin too.

When the Brits arrived in India, they landed and settled in Calcutta first, and they actually built the city which used to be often called London of the East. Now, of course, like everyone else, the babu moshais too want to shed their colonial past. The easy way to do it is to change names of places, roads and buildings.  Chowringhee is now Jawaharlal Nehru Road,  Camac Street is Rabindranath Tagore Street or something, Dalhousie Square (or simply Dalhousie) is now called a fancy BBD Bagh (Binay-Badal-Dinesh Bagh), Dharamtala is Lenin Sarani, Harrington Street is now Ho Chi Minh Sarani. The list goes on. Of course, more often then not, the hoi polloi keep referring them using their old names.

The day our netas came up with the grand plan of renaming 'Delhi's shameful symbol of British Imperialism', they fancied new names for the very Victorian Connaught Place and Connaught Circus.

The new names were imaginative as hell- Rajeev Chowk and Indira Chowk. Damn creative, I must say!

It does not matter much anyways; Dilliwalas still call it CP (short for Connaught Place). Incidentally, I think there is a technical glitch here; CP is not a 'chowk'. A chowk is a square; it has to do something with four roads crossing; whereas in CP, we have something like six or eight roads culminating. That makes it a hexagon or an octagon, a hexagon in Hindi is called a Shatbhuja and an octagon is Ashtbhuja. How about calling it Indira Shatbhuja, Rajeev Ashtabhuja or something? I am sure it will sound a wee bit cooler. May be some architects can throw more light on that aspect.

The new colonies that keep coming up all the time have totally un-cool names. How many localities and towns will be named after Nehru, Gandhi, Indira, Ambedkar, Tagore, Shivaji and so on? I think there are around ten personalities after whom almost all roads and hospitals in the country are named. Call them the Famous-10, if you like.

Talking of un-cool names for places, nothing sucks more that the oh-so-exciting Sector-16, Sector-2 and so on.

How can we miss the new Builders and Construction companies coming up Western sounding names like Orange County, Windsor Place, Riverdale Park and stuff! Hoo, Orange Grove Apartments, I love it. I am sure I have never seen any goddamn orange grove anywhere within 200 miles of Delhi! Having said that, I think those names do provide some amusement value and chick quotient.

When it comes to names of places, old is surely gold. I love names like Majnu Ka Teela (the mound of Majnu) in Delhi. What a name for a place! I always wondered if that place has anything to with the Laila-Majnu story, it turns out that there used to be a peer/faqueer by that name. Those are the kind of names which intrigue and fascinate. Old Delhi has some places which have interesting names- Ballimaran, Dariba Kalan etc. Names like Hauz Khas, Shahpur Jat, Sarai Kale Khan are too high on the coolness factor. I hope some smart politician doesn't come up with a plan to rename Majnu Ka Teela to Ambedkar Ganj, Nehru Puram, Any-of-the-Famous-10 Nagar or something.

Is it possible that we stop renaming names? Let history be, status quo is not a bad idea. If we got kicked by the Brits in the past, so be it. Why try to erase the past?

In case our almighty pride is so much at stake, and we can't really do without this renaming business, can we please come up with equally interesting names? Phuleeeaase, let's give a break to the Famous-10.

The title of the post is 'inspired' by the Will Smith starrer 'I, Robot'; and the idea (!?) germinates from the recent hullabaloo around Raisina Hill.


We, the Nation, are not doing too badly, are we?

Think about it, the country that worships Holy Cows is getting rid of all its Holy Cows one by one. The Netas, the Babus and the judiciary lost their holiness long back.

Finally we are working really hard to kill the last of the Holy Cows in this country. None other than the President- Wow! The gods, they sure are smiling at us.

I guess it's time for me to file my candidature for the numero uno job in the country- Yes! VT the President.

Now, there is not need to go smirk-smirk on this. I am damn serious and I have been preparing for the job, doing a hell lot of homework too.

First thing first- I need to be tainted. You know, being tainted is one ultra-cool thing to do these days.

I have already collected my cousins, nephews, mamus and friends and I am planning to open a Cooperative Bank pretty soon. I will dole out truckloads of NRL (Non-Refundable Loans) to my relatives. I will do a whole lot of cool stuff with loan defaulting; and I will do it better than the Joneses, Vermas and Sharmas. That will keep me in the news for some time.

I hear that the BJP is not quite pleased with their allies Shiv Sena supporting the Prez-in-the-making. The chief reason they cited was something to do with their almighty Regional Pride. Now I know Regional Pride rocks in our country more than anything else.

I have started taking regional language lessons to take care of those sensitivities. I am sure I will learn about 30 regional languages sooner than you imagine.

I will make as many fake domicile certificates to prove that I belong to every goddamn region in the country. This way, I can make sure all the Regional Pride that our country folks suck upon is taken care of.

The next cool thing to do is to make some off-hand remarks about hereditary diseases, women behind veils, talking to the dead, planchets and stuff.

The only thing where I may lag behind is not having the right gender. Well, I know enough like-minded dames who can do all the above mentioned things and give me the remote control. That is Plan-B as of now. No point getting into the nitty-gritties.

All in all, I will make sure that I am supremely tainted and damn controversial before I apply for the nomination.

Once I am elected-selected-nominated-whatever as the President, I will mould the Government's decisions in whichever way that suits my designs.

Now, the President doesn't really have much of power. They say the Indian Prez is just a Rubber Stamp and can return a bill to the Parliament only twice, which is good enough for smart asses like me.

I will use my super-duper networking skills and charisma to influence decisions and non-decisions of the Government.

This is what I propose to do:

First thing in my agenda is take the who's who in my favour. Once the movers-and-shakers of the country are with me, I can really influence them to get a lot of stuff done and un-done. For that, all I need to do is to please a few blokes. Simple.

I will make good use the sprawling lawns at the Rastrapati Bhavan to organize Rave Parties. These 'talk-of the town' Rave Parties which will have film stars, Corporate Honchos and Journos as attendees. Booze and dope will flow like mud. I would invite top Politicians and Babus too. I guess it would be fun to watch them unwind a bit with some funky Psychedelic music, Techno and Industrial Trance.

These 'talk of the town' raves will lead to truckloads of public opinion generated in my favour- thanks to all the good things my invitees will talk/write about me. Of course, some custodians of Indian Culture will object to that, but my invitees will take care of them prudes.

Next. My heart bleeds when I see the poor and selfless Netas, babus and karamcharis being harassed with allegations of ghooskhori (bribery).

Here is my solution; I will again use my killer charisma to influence the Government to pass a bill in the Parliament to legalize corruption. See the fun, if corruption is legal, no one will be illegal.

"Legalize Ghoos" will be my Presidential message to the Nation.

I will use my Presidential Powers and charms to push for some Parliamentary Bill to forgive all the Loan defaulters. There will be a rider here- only those who have a bank loan worth more than a Crore will be allowed to default.

The riff-raff who borrow only a few thousand Rupees will be harassed by goons, eunuchs, recovery guys and the likes ' the Hoi Polloi deserve to get their butts kicked.

I will sit on the Rastrapti Bhavan Chair like a king. I will reject all Mercy Petitions and order my guards to run their horses over any one who comes with any kind of sick plea.

I will be completely neutral. In other words, I will take advantage of all Netas- cutting across party lines. I will please the Leftists, Rightists, Centrists and the Regional Dudes. That will help my family, friends and their dogs get at least 5 petrol pump and booze shop licences made.

I have been spending an hour everyday in master the fine craft of cutting ribbons. I will need that for inaugurating God-knows-what.

Pliss to support, Sirs and Madams! No hidden agenda here.

Recent events which shook this unshakable country include this group of Gujjars demanding to be placed under the ST category. Incidentally, most of them dudes are quite well off, but that is beside the point. The Kolis of Gujarat (currently with the OBC category) have expressed their desire to be pushed down the social ladder.

I spot an interesting trend here. A hot new trend! It is 'downward mobility'.

Henceforth every child to be born in this Country will ask this question to his mom, 'Mom, what is my Caste/Community? Just tell me if I fall under some kind of a 'Reserved Category'!"

Mom says, "No son. You are born with a high caste and we are reasonably well off."

Son: "What have I done to deserve this, mom? Do one thing, please twist my limbs or something, or throw me under some gutter so that I can grow up to be super downtrodden! You can sponsor me and please make sure I never score more than 20% in any exam. Else I'll never get a job."

The son grows up, goes to a booze-house by the whore-house and announces, "you know I am super downtrodden, a boozard and a druggie too. Heck, I never scored more than 20% in any goddamn exam. I have all the qualifications needed to apply for all those Government Jobs."

His booze buddies reply: "Sure you do. Let us all be spectacularly downwardly mobile!"

Downward Mobility rocks, and how!

I had earlier introduced Guptaji, my neighbourhood property dealer, to you folks. He had said the Aam Janta is way too smart for the exit/opinion poll walas. He was right, the Janta has proved it again in UP. Mawawati Bahanji is back with a bang. A bloody big bang, actually. 

Guptaji is happy. He campaigned for three political parties, smart dude. If you do a Ctrl+A (Select All), you don't miss anything. One of them had to win, so it did. He has gone to Lucknow to receive the blessings of Bahanji, as Mayawati is lovingly called by her chamchas. He had a great time diving to her feet in his attempt to pay his respects.

Actually, this ‘diving to the feet’ of political leaders is not a purely Cow Belt habit. It is common across the country, Amma and Karunanidhi worshippers have made this into a fine art. They call is the great Indian tradition of touching the feet of elders ' so 80 year old minister wannabes rough each other up in an attempt to do a charan-sparsh of the 51 year old Bahanji, and the very gracious Bahanji obliges. The 'feet touching' ensures that one is spared from the abuses, gaalis that Bahenji mouths. Boy, those abuses can make a drunken truck driver blush!

Rahul Baba made a last ditch effort to save the sinking not-a-Titanic-anymore Congress and travelled across the Hindi heartland sitting on rooftops of SUVs. Poor chap, tried his best. He strictly ordered his party workers NOT to touch his feet. Guptaji says that order was the root cause of this downfall ' what is a leader who doesn't enjoy some harmless bit of respect paying?

With Mayawati, UP/ Hindi Heartland/ Cow Belt/ Bhaiyaland/Whatever has jumped back the political prominence it once boasted of. Mayawati showed the new way ' no more caste, no more Bahujan Samaj ' you can't go too far with that kind of politics in India. And 'too far' is exactly where Bahanji plans to go, she dreams of sitting on that Chair in New Delhi some day. This time she devised a smarter alternative, Sarva Samaj, an all-inclusive candidature. Dalits, Brahmins, Baniyas, Sawarnas, Muslims, everyone is welcome to join the party. The game plan worked.

Perhaps our own paper tiger Balasahab from Mumbai should take a lesson now. He started his political career kicking asses of South Indians, and then moved on to kicking Bhaiya butts (Amchi Mumbai, Marathi Mumbai and all that) and finally settled down with the 'minority community' as his pet peeve. Don't know where he and his fachchas want to go from here.

What does the post-SP, Mayawati Raj hold for the Bhaiyas? Good question.

Now the great game of Undo/Redo will start. Incidentally, this Undo/Redo business is quite common countrywide ' I hear Amma and Karuna specialize in that game. Now in UP, Bahanji will Undo all the projects that Mulayam Government started (not a problem really, because those smart chaps never started anything). The Mulayam Government did a great job of doing an Undo to what Bahanji had started before he came to power. Well, there is one big plus with Mayawati, she has balls ' loads of it.  She does start stuff, of course truckloads of money changes hands (that is not much of problem with the Hoi Polloi because corruption is the done thing here). As long as projects happen, a bit of money changing hands is not a problem in India.

The Undo/Redo game has its ripple effect on the aam aadmi. For example, there are quite a few flyovers in Noida, all half done. They all started during Bahanji's earlier tenure. SP did a grand job of halting all those constructions. Now that Maya is back, they may start again. That is some good news for Noida residents.

Mayawati had a grand plan to making a state of the art 8-lane super express highway connecting Delhi to Agra (probably the busiest tourist circuit in India), SP again did a fabulous job of halting that project and umpteen enquiries were started. That much-needed project will now perhaps see the light of the day. Similarly the new city of Greater Noida (Bahanji's pet project) didn't witness much activity during the SP Raj, now Greater Noida can get some focus. Incidentally, Greater Noida is one of better planned towns in India. So much for the Redo List.

The Undo list will constitute a whole lot of transfers and a few jail terms. (How predictable and boring)

Bahanji's ministry includes some criminals too (one of the ministers actually could not attend the swearing-in because he is in Jail! Wow!). But overall, the Bahubalis have been kept out of cabinet. In other words, there are some petty thieves and criminals but no big time mafia. (Those who don't know, bahubalis are trigger happy characters in UP/Bihar who are mafia dons and have joined politics for better career growth).

Now the other political parties (at least the sensible ones, are there any?) will be watching Bahanji's antics and try to Copy her fundas of political re-engineering and Paste it to their strategies. Mayawati has already hinted her support for Reservations based on economic criteria rather than Caste. That will be a good idea for the country, actually.

Actually the Copy process is a tricky one, not everyone can do it well. Look at our poor Buddhadeb babu from West Bengal. Poor chap wanted to replicate the success stories of other states by copying their funda of liberalized Industrial Policy. Poor man got jacked by the politics of dharnas, gheraos and unionism. Ironically, this is the same culture that his party created and kicked out all industrialists from the state during his predecessor Jyoti babu's regime.  

Meanwhile, Guptaji is happy distributing laddus. Smart dude would have distributed laddus anyways, because he campaigned for all parties.

The other political parties (SP, BJP, and Congress) tried hard to Save their faces, but could not. Now they are trying a Save As. Make that Save Ass.