I have a dream for my India

Will terror ever leave us?

2011-07-15T04:01:00.000-07:00

Just a few lines.....

Will terror ever leave us?

Nope!

Why?

Because crime and punishment (made famous in this juxtaposition by Fyodor Dostoevsky) does not go hand in hand in India.

So when Barkha Dutt puts on her earnest face and equally earnest voice and plaintively asks "Will hanging Kasab and Malik end terror?"....I can answer that worldly wise journalist this way..."Give Kasab and Malik to the victims....then lets see who has the guts to spread terror!"

Each time we catch a terrorist, give him to the ones who have lost children and earning members....who have lost limbs and lie shattered like Humpty Dumpty, never to be put together again!!

I assure you, terror will end!

And lets PLEASE not talk of "the spirit of Indians who face terror bravely"....its shameless and speaks of cowardice!

There is no bravery in tolerating bombs on an innocent populace....it is the net result of fat, useless politicians with their useless agendas, the failure of the police which has fattened itself like leeches and who fail time and again, it is the failure of the largest nation in the world in terms of self respect!

Ab baar baar kya kahen....words cannot share the same platform as bombs....only ruthless action can!

Live with the bombs and flying shrapnel! They are here to stay! Live with the terrorists eating biryani in jails! Live with the taste of lost self respect (if someone comes in time and again to beat one up in one's own home and one does nothing, its a severe lack of self respect). Live with fear....and the name of God! He is the only one who might protect us! And while He's half heartedly saving us, He's also muttering "Bloody Indians!! When will you take up arms?? Lazy, gutless cowards!!! Geeta gyan bhi kis useless nation ko personally diya. Har baar janam lena padta hai in idiots ko bachane....non violence and fasts ke natak ne naak me dam kar diya hai. Abe, kabhi to uth ja ladne ke liye!! Aur PLEASE, baten karna band kar!!"

Nishi

PS: I've volunteered!! I will be the unpaid hangman for all the terrorists.....I will get my own rope and manage to string them up alone! Just call me anytime! I'll even take no travel allowance! No hotel accommodation! Will pay my way! Just call me!

Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

2011-05-07T11:56:00.001-07:00

India's national motto, emblazoned at the base of the four lions which proclaims "satyameva jayate" is too sad a tune to play in the time of the vanishing tiger, also our national animal and now a commentary on how fast things have deteriorated on all fronts! It is a sad echo of what we were and where we aspired to be...and where we stand today!
We need a change of pace...a change in attitude, a complete overhaul in our thinking and working or this nation of a few billions is jaggernauting itself to disaster!

A clarion call would be more appropriate...UTHO PARTH, GANDEEV SAMBHALO!

That is what the Lord himself told a crying, defeated Arjun on the battlefield....Rise and fight, . The time for inaction is over. Fight now, for the waiting is over...fight, for this is the right path....fight for liberation from injustice and tyranny! Fight...as now there lies no escape! Fight, for now the balance between dharma and adharma is tilting"
Sometimes truth does not prevail...and has to be fought for!
Akin to these times where the corrupt lead us towards no future.....

Utho Parth, Gandeev sambhalo!

Anna Hazare tried to get up......the lokpal bill should have been passed by now.......a transparent machinery started....when we set robbers and bandits to divide a nation's wealth, what will be the result?
The Indian airline is in peril...do you understand what it means if it goes under and is closed? The private airlines will rule the roost and hike their fares 50 times overnight! Air travel will then be unaffordable for most of us.....did you not see what was done to onions?? We will be held hostage again! And there will be no tired, governmental airline we so love to hate, to save our goat!

Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

The farmers are debt ridden, committing suicide like lemmings......they earn a squalid living. The consumers of their produce pay a hefty sum and are in turn, desperate. Where does the difference in produce when it starts out till it reaches us, go? Who benefits? Its benefits not you and me or the farmer! Where does the money go? Why do we allow such massive theft?

Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

We are lead by ruthless, money whore-mongers with only self gain on their agenda......and they are above the law! They refuse to be governed by the same rules by which they govern us...they pillage and plunder like Ghenghis Khan and are not held accountable.

Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

When the lawless and unprincipled govern, what will be the future? Who will protect the masses....Kalki, the 10th and final avataar might not come a-calling sometime soon! The Lord makes one pretty desperate before he comes personally to deliver. It took the Pandavas 13 years of wanderings and then "the mother of all wars" before they got what was due......it took Ram 14 yrs and another maha-sangram to win back his wife and take over his kingdom...and he was the Lord himself, in human form!
I think we can safely assume that we will have to battle ourselves out of this mire of corruption and helplessness that holds us so firmly by the feet and refuses to let go!

So, Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

For all our sacred texts say that a righteous man will have to fight when surrounded by unrighteousness.
For the inability and unwillingness to take action is also a grave sin.
For to endure adharma weakens the cosmic fibre!

Therefore for the present "Satyamev jayate" must give way to "Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo"

Another perspective...

2011-05-07T11:47:00.000-07:00

Another perspective....and something to look forward to! More "kashmiri freedom fighters" in India......and a sorely understaffed Indian army, air force and navy! Will the Indian soldier finally get his due....will we realise who stands between us and total chaos, finally? And will they again provide us with legends.....and not fail us, like they have always done before? Will they prove to us again that some things in this world are shining and pure and indebt us again forever?

I do hope this time around, the dear old "Kashmiri fighters" target some Indian politicians and their offices!

Plus maybe after taking a few bombs again on our heads, we will come up with some sort of national pride and do something concrete......learn lessons from Israel!! Hire them as coaches and make them our pals. Stop just being mincemeat!! Stop being so afraid...stop being ninnies!!

Two things will happen....either India shapes up and becomes a tiger in its defense.....or remains a "non aligned, non violent" country everybody tramples upon!

Am not afraid for I believe that the world is linked together in mysterious ways...and gruesome, Machiavellian politics has its own pitfalls!

What was 9/11...collateral damage? Or was it proof that riding the "terrorist tiger" is a dangerous thing to do!!

Though I do really really pray that these "kashmiri freedom fighters" find further greener pastures beckoning! And meet those who encouraged them, made them rich and fat! Sometimes true gold is found only in the West!

PS Maybe we all are really preparing to meet Kalki. For if below is what really happened, then we live in EVIL, EVIL times....and its time mankind again started afresh.....

Are we now going to mourn the passing of Osama??

2011-05-07T11:43:00.000-07:00

Oh...GOOD GRIEF!! Are we now going to mourn the passing of Osama?? Seems like his death has put India in a truckload of manure....

I fail to understand politics!

It must take a maggoty brain to come up with stuff like this....such warped thinking and procedures!

In simple words, does it mean that Pakistan and America will remain buddy buddy, despite Pak being a terrorist haven with an address book filled with all famous monsters?? And India pays the price of being a placid cow??

It seems so wrong, somehow....though I know that countries operate on absolutely fantastically corrupt rules where nothing is sacred! Except economic gain!!

And the most sanctimonious talk comes from the most badmash countries!!

Global terrorism, indeed! And the war against terror...indeed!!

God save us all!

I think India needs everyone's prayers......we seem to be in the line of fire, somehow!

We are the biggest victims of terror......yet we are on the crosshairs of terrorists and anti-terrorists alike!!

Does this make any sense??

It just tells one very emphatically that "Talk softly but carry a big stick!"

And that "Xama shobti uss bhujang ko, jiske paas garal ho.....(forgiveness suits only the very very strong....what does forgiveness signify in a weak man, but cowardice?).

So when India proclaims loudly that "We are non aligned and come in peace"....her neighbours giggle and promptly swallow up some of her territory....because they have learnt over time that she will not defend herself, despite all the posturing...and the world denies her a rightful place for she has no powerful allies and stands alone!

She does not defend her citizens inside or out of the country...she is led by the absolutely characterless and the very dregs of society....people with no moral fiber and not much education who stymie at every turn the few with vision......

One can debate in a thousand different ways about Osama and Obama's maha-sangram.......but the truth is that both countries are in cahoots and it is an extremely unhealthy environment for India! To be surrounded by hostiles with dangerous plans...to be the biggest victim of terror and then to listen to Pak declare loudly that Pakistan suffers most grievously from the terrorists it has home grown organically in every backyard...in a thousand different names.....AND THEN TO NET 19 BILLION DOLLARS ANNUALLY AS AID!!.....

I worry!!

An island of sanity in this maddening world!

2009-11-13T10:16:00.000-08:00

Brings back fond memories...my baba would take us first to the campus Gurudwara and then the temple! Both adjacent! I still cannot enter a Gurudwara without remembering him! Went to Leh army temple this year, the Corps mandir, on Hanuman Jayanti! The army had the Gurudwara, Church and Temple all in one hall...not even a partition! Even a Tibetan shrine! I found it unremarkable....the day I hear army chaps discuss religion disrapagingly, I think it will be a most frightening day for me. When Raj Jackass Thackeray rabble roused "Maharastra For the Marathas/ Marathis?, I actually prayed that the very same issue should turn around and boomerang on him a thousandfold! It did...but since he is still standing, the boomarang will strike again, hopefully before long! Everytime I hear a ghoul in the garb of a politician talk of 'protecting the minority" and religion, I wish i could see him lashed instantly! Dead, destroyed, rotting.. and all that he represents, lying as dust!

I maintain that service even for a year as a Defence person for each man and woman should be mandatory! And spent guarding our frontiers! We shall then see who survives...The Hindu, the Muslim, the Christian, the Sikh...or just the Indian!

As a child, I saw lohri celebrations and danced around bonfires and it was a very welcome day for one ate as many revaris and peanut and popcorn preparations as one could desire! Only very greedy children will understand this joy. I have had sevai on Eid, sent home by fellow officers wives', in huge bowls for they did know that my mum possessed a greedy child! I have celebrated Pongal, by dancing in group dances, singing songs I did not know but learnt by rote! I did not even care what Pongal was! it was a holiday and great fun for the entire campus has evening programmes! I considered myself Sikh when my dad was posted in Punjab...would wish all "Sat Sri Akal" without knowing what it meant! Pronounced it as 'Sassriakal" and thought it was one word! I never heard my elders talk of their religion as the chosen one, the others less! I never heard them preach hatred or intolerence! Jamalludin, in my class, was merely a boy with a long name! I did not know about halal and jhatka meat till well after marriage...yes, where did I live?....I lived in defence campuses! I was in college when Indira Gandhi was assasinated. And I was a-boil with rage and horror. Was a "civilian" by then, living in hostel, facing sexist comments by strange men on roads and trying hard to control my temper and not go chasing after them and telling them to call their moms "sexy"! (I blame all mothers when their sons misbehave with women....why on earth did their mothers not do their jobs! i have a son and the day some girl complains that he called her "maal, or sexy", or something similar. or that he pinched her, manhandled her, I will slap myself first and then think what to do with my son later!) Sexy is NOT a compliment....it does not mean beauty! It implies that the woman is objectified! And while we are on this topic, Ila Arun did women a great disservice by singing the Choli song! If the music director wanted to have the song sung, HE should have sung it! Sly, double meaning, low bred hound! I have had this song sung to me...believe me, all my ladylike instincts abandoned me then and all I wanted to do was chase that sexist ass, sit on him and pummel him till he screamed for mercy! I have actually chased a guy on a cycle once when he sang out merrily to me....he was lucky as I have never been a runner yet outrage fuelled me to the extent that I ran along him for a few seconds till he pedalled hard with his rear in the air, and got away! May Ila Arun, the music writer and all the masterminds behind such songs find that their "art" flees them the instant they get down to penning such godawful lines! Service will benefit them too. Who will one call "maal" in a campus? The lady or girl is a fellow officer's wife or daughter or sister! And she knows her place in the world! And she is not afraid! She probably will not go for backup and will scream so long and hard that one will wish for a quick beating and then a getaway! The Forces do not foster an eve teasing culture!

Newspapers talk of drunk jawans misbehaving with women on trains...as a girl travelling alone, it was my fervent wish "God, let me get in the compartment filled with jawans! They will protect me! Save me from the daily commuters and the "students"! You can only begin to understand me if you have been a young female travelling alone in our trains! Polka dotted with blue bruises by the time one disembarked! Marked as prey the moment you were spotted! I would go up to the rowdiest, roughest looking lout, look him in the eyes, call him "bhaiya" and ask for help with my luggage! Never failed! The Forces teaches you survival too!

I got carried away....do read the article below....worth a read!

May our Armed Forces win the favour of all Gods! May they prevail! And may their jobs again acquire the glory and honour that was once associated with them! MAY THE WARRIOR ALWAYS BE ACKNOWLEDGED BY THE ONES HE PROTECTS....IN LIFE AND IN DEATH AND FAR BEYOND THE GRAVE!

...and may the little bit of the 'forces girl' left in me survive as long as I live for she is one of my best bits!
NISHI

Any one more secular than the army?

As a serving army officer, I never stop marvelling at the gullibility of our countrymen to be provoked with alacrity into virulence in the name of religion. I have never heard the word 'secular' during all my service -- and yet, the simple things that are done simply in the army make it appear like an island of sanity in a sea of hatred.

In the army, each officer identifies with the religion of his troops. In regiments where the soldiers are from more than one religion, the officers -- and indeed all jawans attend the weekly religious prayers of all the faiths. How many times have I trooped out of the battalion mandir and, having worn my shoes, entered the battalion church next door? A few years ago it all became simpler -- mandirs, masjids, gurudwars and churches began to share premises all over the army. It saved us the walk.

Perhaps it is so because the army genuinely believes in two central 'truths' -- oneness of god and victory in operations. Both are so sacred we cannot nitpick and question the basics.
In fact, sometimes the army mixes up the two! On a visit to the holy cave at Amarnath a few years ago I saw a plaque mounted on the side of the hill by a battalion that had once guarded the annual Yatra. It said, 'Best wishes from -....- battalion. Deployed for Operation Amarnath.
On another instance, I remember a commanding officer ordered the battalion maulaviji to conduct the proceedings of Janamashtmi prayers because the panditji had to proceed on leave on compassionate grounds. No eyebrows were raised. It was the most rousing and best-prepared sermon on Lord Krishna I have ever had the pleasure of listening to.

On the Line of Control, a company of Khemkhani Muslim soldiers replaced a Dogra battalion. Over the next few days, the post was shelled heavily by Pakistanis, and there were a few non-fatal casualties.

One day, the junior commissioned officer of the company, Subedar Sarwar Khan walked up to the company commander Major Sharma and said, "Sahib, ever since the Dogras left, the mandir has been shut. Why don't you open it once every evening and do aarti? Why are we displeasing the gods?"

Major Sharma shamefacedly confessed he did not know all the words of the aarti. Subedar Sarwar went away and that night, huddled over the radio set under a weak lantern light, painstakingly took down the words of the aarti from the post of another battalion!
How many of us know that along the entire border with Pakistan, our troops abstain from alcohol and non-vegetarian food on all Thursdays? The reason: It is called the Peer day -- essentially a day of religious significance for the Muslims.

In 1984, after Operation Bluestar there was anguish in the Sikh community over the desecration of the holiest of their shrines. Some of this anger and hurt was visible in the army too.

I remember the first Sikh festival days after the event -- the number of army personnel of every religious denomination that thronged the regimental gurudwara of the nearest Sikh battalion was the largest I had seen. I distinctly remember each officer and soldier who put his forehead to the ground to pay obeisance appeared to linger just a wee bit longer than usual. Was I imagining this? I do not think so. There was that empathy and caring implicit in the quality of the gesture that appeared to say, "You are hurt and we all understand."
We were deployed on the Line of Control those days. Soon after the news of disaffection among a small section of Sikh troops was broadcast on the BBC, Pakistani troops deployed opposite the Sikh battalion yelled across to express their 'solidarity' with the Sikhs.
The Sikh havildar shouted back that the Pakistanis had better not harbour any wrong notions. "If you dare move towards this post, we will mow you down."

Finally, a real -- and true -- gem....

Two boys of a Sikh regiment battalion were overheard discussing this a day before Christmas. "Why are we having a holiday tomorrow?" asked Sepoy Singh.
"It is Christmas," replied the wiser Naik Singh.
"But what is Christmas?"
"Christmas," replied Naik Singh, with his eyes half shut in reverence and hands in a spontaneous prayer-clasp, "is the guruparb of the Christians."

Life....the journey's been good!

2009-08-16T00:05:00.000-07:00

After reading Subroto Bagchi’s article which you had sent, I had the overwhelming urge to read the book”Go, Kiss The World.” Coincidentally Ajit was here when I picked it up at a bookstore and he told me he had it lying back at his office. I read it and am re-reading it! It’s a powerful book made all the more so as, I think, we all can identify with his writing….he could be describing my parents’ and grandparents’ philosophy of life.

We went through a large part of childhood minus a fridge and then a TV as my dad could not see their need! And we walked….everywhere! I never gave these incidents much importance! I have always believed that I have been lucky…now I realize it is so because of the attitude I had imbibed unconsciously! When I got married to Ajit and went around in the beat-up vehicle, I was really grateful that I had bid farewell to the DTC buses…and to the bad hair days courtesy my dad’s scooter! A bare house, post wedding, was pure possibility….so many things to look forward to! The yearly bonus lifted my spirits till it came again…Ajit now gives me that amount as spending money and it is not appreciated half as much!

I will read out the book to Sangram and we will pause and talk about it. We all talk about how times have changed….but I was overcome with nostalgia for what we had while growing up and what our kids will never get! A simple life….where possessions were just that….they did not define us! Four glasses of milk in a day religiously…only actual throwing up could make one miss that ghastly glass once! One cold drink per child not matter what the occasion…no counting calories, no fussing over food…we ran about so much we ate everything that was edible and sometimes, some that was not…my teenaged sister ate an entire rasgolla tin, after lunch, (all 48 pieces) which had been left as it was “suspect”! She said that they were ‘sourish’ so she drank all the rasa to make up! We observed her carefully that afternoon but she suffered no ill-effects!

Sometimes, some things make one pause and reflect. This book did this to me. And as I re-evaluate my life and weigh it, I know I would not make any changes…the journey has been good!

Roots

2009-08-15T23:38:00.000-07:00

It was a typical pre-Indepence village in the heart of UP, baked mud houses with thatched roofs, a cow or two tied in the middle of the courtyard, goats leaping free, chickens scratching in the dust, no electricity, no running water, no sewage system. The village had a one section school held under a sprawling banyan which protected them during the blazing summer months. During winter, the solitary teacher and his charges moved out from under the shade in the welcome heat of a benign sun. The boy was a happy lad, much favoured by his mother, running about barefeet with his myriad cousins, much like all the other kids in play, climbing trees and jumping in the vast pond where buffaloes joined them on particularly hot days, doing what little boys do when they are able to run free. What separated him from the others was when he was in school! The school had boys of varied ages, all sitting on the ground, learning aloud by rote what their ‘master’ deemed fit. Sometimes he would send Bholu to wash his buffalo during school hours, sometimes it was Chiddi who went to assist his wife in her household chores…the school teacher was the undisputed king and his word law! He would sometimes get up leisurely and catch a daydreaming boy by his ear and wring him rudely back to reality, sometimes whack a slow to learn boy on his back, secure in his knowledge that physical pain often made minds keener and sharper. He never touched the young lad. One day, he called the father and told him that the lad had learnt all that could be learnt in the little open school under the tree. The father sent his boy to a larger school which was far further and one had to walk a few miles to reach it. For the sake of company, the father sent his older son and a few nephews along too. The lad soon outpaced his elder brothers and completed his schooling.

The father had realized that he had an unusual boy on his hands and made the decision of sending the boy to the city where as was expected, the boy fared well and was ready for college. The father sold some land, gathered some money and sent his son abroad for further education. The boy lived and studied in a foreign land, among an alien culture with limited resources. He made friends and lived and laughed and studied ferociously. And after seven years of exile he came back home.

Two days later he was attending his own wedding to a bride he had not seen, let alone met. She came from a vastly different background than his. He applied for a job, got it and so joined the Indian Air Force at 26 yrs.

In time he had two daughters who went to convent schools and sometimes, his wife and daughters would giggle helplessly when he called a donkey a dunkey. Once he told his girl that a “steak” was pronounced as “stake’ and she did not believe him until he brought out the dictionary. He was a fun father but very short of time and when the girls would come into his room to bid him goodnight, they would find him sitting, surrounded with books and scribbling away in reams and reams of paper. When they got up in the morning, the light in his room would still be on and when they peeped in, he would still be studying. On rare occasions, he would suddenly burst out of that cell and sing songs in a language none of the women could understand and then disclose that it was a French or a German song to his wide eyed audience.

The younger daughter would creep into that room and do her homework very importantly there and if she had important questions, of which there were many, she would always go to him for answers. When all the neighbours bought fridges, he did not as he found it pointless. And TVs were relegated to the same category….he would teach all his kids and their playmates on holidays under a guava tree in the lawn and the lessons were endless. The kids would disappear on by one, on noiseless feet after a few hours….the final hapless youngster would ultimately be rescued by an irate mother late in the day. He believed firmly in feeding the kids well and in physical exercise.

The children grew up and married, left home. And one day, the younger daughter who was now a mother herself, decided to go with her father back to the little village “to discover her roots” and so father and daughter came full circle to the tiny village with the mud baked houses and thatched roofs. And the girl turned woman then realized who her father really was. He was an ordinary Indian with an extraordinary mind who had leapt out of a village straight into the big world, straddling two lifestyles, different cultures, who had changed so much yet remained so intrinsically the same! Such a long journey traversed with such humility and matter of factness!

Yes, the lad is my father and I’m the younger daughter. I speak English effortlessly (French with effort) and drive myself around, equally at home in saris and jeans. I have one child and two dogs and live a life so different from the women in the village that we could be living in separate universes. And it happened all because a young brilliant lad in a village had the courage to leap into the vast unknown!

On Independence Day

2009-08-15T23:34:00.000-07:00

My grandfather was a colonel in the Army and his three sons joined him there. My earliest memory is how alive the house seemed with all these four 6 footers together. Larger than life with fierce moustaches of all types…my nana amd mamas were my earliest heroes. I extended this same unconditional love to the Armed Forces. The olive greens, the black boots lined up in a military row, gleaming like only a soldier’s boots can, the dress uniforms with the polished gold bottons, the solitary camp cot whose narrow confines held all of us wriggling in it like puppies, the white enamel mugs which seemed to hold the very essence of this glamorous life….I think I loved all of it with a white hot intensity.

My father was also in the Forces…I saw another aspect of the Forces with him…fearless warriors patrolling the very skies….I grew up on campuses and I did not know what fear meant. We were the military kids and we were the protectors. I remember being puzzled when adults questioned me “who are you?’…I actually replied that I was an Indian. I got married outside the forces and saw a different side of life…but my love affair with the Forces never came to a halt. I have seen life come a full circle…when I was really young, the finest of the fine entered our Armed Forces. It was a matter of pride and honour to serve one’s country. And those who joined here could be spotted a mile off…they never tolerated any injustice , they were truly fearless…I had one mama who must have been in his late forties, who while escorting me beat up a guy who said something very nasty to me and who had made the mistake of thinking that I was traveling alone! The way my mama thrashed him with just his bare hands was a sight to behold. The predator turned prey did not have breath in his body to beg for mercy! Contrast that to the hordes who pass by when a woman is being molested and choose to keep mum! I have countless such stories…my nana aged but he still remained a lion. When one walked with him, one could sense the aura of powerful protection he exuded!

Then I saw how people began avoiding a career in the Forces. To become a soldier was now associated with foolishness…keeping pace with the marching materialism, fighting for one’s country was equated with outdated notions of idealism. What place does idealism have in our lives today? What do we teach our kids…do we teach them at winning is what counts or do we teach them that losing gracefully too is an art? Money is the biggest motivator for us today…money and the soldier are opposing forces. A Soldier cannot be money minded! A business man is money oriented, so is a trader, so is a householder! A soldier protects and defends…he fights. No more and no less!

And what do we give him in return? I ask you this question…how do we repay a man who takes up arms in our defence? How can we repay them? These questions are so relevant today because we see it for ourselves that our systems are collapsing but our Armed Forces still stand tall. Give a soldier his due. He asks for nothing so should we take him so much for granted? While rescuing frightened people during the Mumbai attacks in November, a soldier told them “Do not fear! To get at you, they will have to get me first,”….just one line but what a world of meaning!

If we all did our duty as bravely and unflinchingly as the soldier, we would be in a far happier position today. For to live life with honour is still one of the finest tenets to follow!

The Battle of Tololing Hill & Knoll - Capt Vijayant Thapar

2009-06-28T00:22:00.000-07:00

http://www.captainvijyantthapar.com/lastletter.html

“The tyrant dies and his rule is over,
the martyr dies and his rule begins”

..Soren Kierkegaard

"It is better to live one day as a lion than a hundred years as a sheep."- Italian proverb

Here’s the saga of a 22 year old. He lived his one day as a lion. And what a story he left behind. Captain Vijayant Thapar (Robin) of 2 Rajputana Rifles, was awarded the Vir Chakra posthumously. His grandmother received it. Capt Thapar was the son of an Army officer and his grandfather too had served in the Army as an officer!

Vijyant after getting commissioned on the 12th Dec'98, joined the 2 Rajputana Rifles at Gwalior. The Battalion stayed barely for a month before they moved to Kashmir to check counter insurgency. Before being inducted he was given some training in an Army establishment then moved to Kupwara where he was involved in two fierce encounters. While talking to his mother on telephone he described how he lived through a live encounter in which about thirty bullets were fired at him. While still involved in this counter insurgency tasks, orders were received for the unit to move to Drass to evict the enemy who had occupied Tololing, Tiger Hill, and adjoining heights. Vijyant moved under the command of his CO, Col. M.B. Rabindernath, VrC and his Company Commander Major P. Acharya. The Battalion was then given the task of capturing Tololing. This was a God sent opportunity for Vijyant as he was an officer always looking for action. After the initial assault by Major Mohit Saxena was held up, on the night of 12th June'99 Capt. Vijyant Thapar led his platoon to capture Barbad Bunker. His diary notes shows how in the close combat he killed two militants and his disappointment at not being able to capture two enemies alive.

Battle of Tololing Knoll and Three Pimples

2 Raj Rif was given the task of captaining Toiling Knoll, Three Pimples. In this actions Robin fought like a man and true soldier. These forbidding heights were held by enemy Northern Light Infantry (NLI) . They had well constructed fortification very well stocked, well sited, dominating the narrow ridge line on which 2 Raj Rif had to attack. During this Battle Vijyant captured a Pakistani position called Barbad Bunker Pt. 4590. Tololing was the first victory for Indian Army on 13th June 1999 and has gone into history as a turning point in the war.

Atop Barbad Bunker position

After the successful capture of Tololing he spoke to his mother on V-Sat telephone and proudly said "Mama we have captured Tololing". Later on 28 June, 2 Raj. Rif. was given the task of capturing Three Pimples, Knoll and Lone Hill area. The attack started with Vijyant's platoon leading on a full moon night along a razor sharp ridge with no cover to offer. There was intense and accurate artillery shelling and heavy enemy fire. He lost some of his dear men and some more were injured causing the attack to be disrupted. However with his indominable spirit and tremendous urge to capture Knoll he got together, the remenants of his men and moved through a ravine to face the enemy. It was a full moon night . Moreover this was an impossible position to capture. The troops of 6 Northern Light Infantry had all the advantages. Strongly prepared positions, one narrow knife edge ridge, with precipitous slopes on both side, ravines thousands of feet deep, devoid of cover and almost vertical climbs at places.

At 8PM the attack commenced with a thunderous shatter as 120 guns opened fire, rockets hit up the sky. Shells, own and Pakistani covered the whole area mixed with lethal machine gun fire. Into this inferno 2 Raj Rif moved with Capt. Vijyant Thapar leading the attack. Among the first to fall in this rain of death was sepoy Jagmal Singh, Vijyant's very dear orderly.

While the exchange of fire was going on, full of excitement, Vijyant reached his Company which had already secured a foothold on Knoll. By this time his Company Commander Major P. Achrya had been killed. At this news Vijyant's anger was explosive. He surged ahead with his colleague Naik Tilak Singh. Both of them started engaging the enemy merely 15 mts. away. There were two enemy machine guns firing towards them. After about an hour and a half of fierceful exchange of bullets and abuses Vijyant decided that he had to end the enemy. As he moved up to do so a burst of fire struck him on his head. He fell in the arms of his comrade Naik Tilak Singh. A brave son of India had fallen. It was after that the men of his company charged and fully captured Knoll. The victory at Knoll on 29 June 1999, is a saga of bravery unmatched, and unbounded grit and determination. Courage alone and unflinching faith in almighty God alone turned a tactically impossible situation into a victory.

And this is the last letter he wrote to his family

Dearest Papa Mama Birdie and Granny,

1. By the time you get this letter, I'll be observing you all from the sky enjoying the hospitality of Apsaras.

2. I have no regrets, in fact even if I become a human again I'll join the Army and fight for the nation.

3. If you can, please come and see where the Indian Army fought for your tomorrow.

4. As far as this unit is concerned the new chaps should be told about this sacrifice.I hope my photo will be kept in the 'A' Coy mandir with Karni Mata.

5. Whatever organ can be taken, should be done.

6. Contribute some money to orphanage and keep giving 50/- Rs to Ruksana per month and meet Yogi Baba.

7. Best of luck to Birdie, never forget this sacrifice of these men. Papa you should feel proud. Mama so should you, meet ________ ( I loved her). Mamaji forgive me for evrything wrong I did.

Ok then its time for me to join my clan of the Dirty Dozen. My assault party has 12 chaps.

Best of luck to you all
Live life kingsize

Yours, Robin

I’m weeping like a fool here, my nose and eyes streaming. I have no composure! And I have this deep sense of loss…to lose a man who had such purity of thought! To know that one could die, and to run forth to embrace that death willingly! At 22!! This was an exceptional person. And he makes me feel so proud! Till the time India breeds soldiers of such mettle, we are safe in the face of any danger. Yet the mind rebels…how can men sacrifice themselves so willingly for us, their countrymen and we sit back and take it as our due? What do we give back? And how? Senator Robert F. Kennedy said "It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a person stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope. That ripple builds others. Those ripples - crossing each other from a million different centers of energy - build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and injustice."

Khushnaseeb hai wo jo

Watan pe mit jaate hai

Mar kar bhi wo log

Amar ho jaate hai

Karta hoon tumhe saalam

E-watan pe mitne walo

Tumhari har saans mein basta

Tirange ka naseeb hai

The Hero of Batalik - Maj Sarvanan

2009-06-27T10:41:00.000-07:00

1988
After serving with the Indian Peace Keeping Force in Sri Lanka for a couple of years, Lieutenant Colonel A Mariappan was finally returning home. But he could not make it to his family. Enroute, he died in a road accident in Bangalore.

His oldest son, Sarvanan, was only 14.

1999
Saravanan, now a Major in the Indian Army, was also coming home. His body was being brought in a coffin draped in the Indian tricolour. The 27-year-old officer had died defending the peaks of Batalik in the Kargil war. His body had lain in the snow for a whole month, caught in a no-man's lands between Indian and Pakistani positions.

"Every time we go to recover the body, the Pakis open fire and if one of their men tries to claim the body, we open fire. That is why his body remains where it is," a senior army officer had then said.

Major Sarvanan's mother had lost her husband and now her only son.

"My son was the first to fall and the last to return," she said remembering him in her home in Tiruchi, Tamil Nadu.

Pictures of Major Sarvanan in his home; inset, his father Lieutenant Colonel Mariappan.

Major Mariappan Saravanan was born on August 10, 1972 on the island of Rameswaram in Tamil Nadu. His father Lieutenant Colonel A Mariappan was a doctor in the army. After completing his schooling in various places -- Belgaum, Kannoor, Gurdaspur, Jorhat and Bihar, he joined St Joseph's College in Tiruchi which was founded in 1844.

"After college he tried to get into the National Defence Academy and landed up in the Officers Training Academy," says his closest friend Amalraj. He graduated from the OTA in 1996 and joined the First Bihar Regiment as a Lieutenant. He was made Captain the following year and Major in 1999.

"I was training with the Army in Assam, his unit was there so we managed to meet, from there they went straight to Kargil," says Amalraj in palpable grief. They were a bunch of three friends -- Saravanan, Karthik and Amalraj. A few years ago, they had made a trip to Kanyakumari. On the way, their bus driver fell asleep on the wheel and crashed headlong into an incoming lorry. "Seven people died on the spot and many were injured. We students were in a shock. But not Saravanan, he was cool. He went about checking the dead. Then he helped the injured into passing vehicles and took them to hospital. It was his Army background that made him react to an emergency so calmly and resolutely." Amalraj is an IPS officer now and the Superintendent of Police in the Theni district of Tamil Nadu.

St Jospeh's College, Tiruchi; Major Sarvanan as a child.

'There was this Sippy theatre in Tiruchi. It used to show English movies," says the other friend Karthik, "We never missed even one. Saravanan was a bike freak. We even planned to take part in a Scissors rally. We could not find a sponsor and the plan fizzled out." Karthik is now a businessman in Theni and recounts the college election as if it were just yesterday. "In our college, the Chairman was always a member of some political party or a very rich kid. We changed that. We decided to make Saravanan the Chairman in our final year and succeeded. It was the first time the college had an intelligent chairman in a long time."

Major Sarvanan with his mother.

Sarvanan's mother Amithavalli Mariappan was very sad the day I met her. It was her son's birthday. He would have been 32. Her daughters -- Chitra, a doctor in Chennai and Revathy, a software engineer in the US -- would call. Her son was so industrious, she said. Always fixing his bike or other electrical items in the house. He hardly ever sat still. He was a good son who came home every year for his holidays and called her almost each day.

When he had told her that he wanted to join the Army, she never discouraged him even after losing her officer-husband.

"He came home before the Kargil war. He had to attend a friend's marriage and stayed with us for one-and-a-half months. The last time he called was to tell us his unit was shifting. He never told us he was going to Kargil, we thought it was one of the regular postings." Sarvanan told her he would call. He didn't call for 15 days after that.

The First Bihar Regiment was in Assam when the Kargil war broke out. They were ordered to move to Kargil, Jammu & Kashmir. From the heat of Assam to the cold of Kargil wasn't an easy change. There wasn't enough protective weather gear.

On the night of May 28, 1999, Major Sarvanan was assigned the task of capturing a well-fortified Pakistani position at 14,229 feet in the Batalik sector. He and his men launched an attack at 0400 hours. Despite intensive firing from the enemy with artillery and automatic weapons, they charged into a volley of bullets. Saravanan fired a rocket launcher into the enemy position

that killed two enemy soldiers. During the combat, he was hit by a splinter and injured but the Major continued fighting. His Commanding Officer ordered him to retreat because too many Indian soldiers had been injured.

'Ghenghis Khan fall back,' came the order.
'Not today sir, we are very close to the objective,' replied Sarvanan who was codenamed Ghenghis Khan. He killed two more invaders but this time he was hit by a bullet in the head.

Major Sarvanan fell defending his country, his body nestled in the snow. As if mother nature had held her child close to her bosom and kept him fresh. He died at 6.30 am.

A friend in Bangalore called his mother and told her Saravanan had died in Kargil. "We switched on the television and saw it in a news bulletin."

Two days later, the official telegram arrived. "He was the first officer to fall and the last one to come back. Almost as if he did not want to leave the border till the enemy was thrown out," says his mother.

Major Sarvanan's body was recovered on July 8, 1999, 41 days after he died. The entire town of Tiruchi turned up to attend the funeral. "It was a fitting tribute to him," says Father John Britto, his College principal.

Had he lived, the family would have celebrated his wedding in June -- just a month after he passed away. They had liked a girl and sent her picture to him. Major Sarvanan had agreed to marry her.

The funeral in Tiruchi

Major Saravanan's unit was the first to find out that the Pakistanis up there were heavily armed. Before that it was thought they were only armed with light weapons. His sacrifice brought out the extent of the weaponry of the enemy and his deed did not go unrecognised. A grateful Indian Army gave him the title 'The Hero of Batalik.' The Tamil Nadu Government has introduced a Chapter in class VII called -- 'They brought home the hero dead,' which is a true inspiration to the children who read it.

The President awarded him a Vir Chakra for his admirable courage. His Commanding Officer came for Major Sarvanan's funeral and told his mother: 'You are not Saravanan's mother alone, you are a mother to the nation.'

"She is a very courageous lady," says Father Britto, "we invited her to a few functions after his death and she spoke very bravely. Probably the army background makes her strong."

His mother receives the Vir Chakra from President K R Narayanan.

In Major Sarvanan's home, the prayer room has photos of his father and him, both revered like the other gods in that room. "His name was Saravanan but we used to call him Saro," says Karthik, "Today I have named my daughter Saro after him."

When Major Sarvanan's funeral pyre was lit by his uncle, a retired army man, a multitude of people stood there in grief. They were friends, relatives and many others who did not know him while he lived. They had come to honour a soldier who had died defending his country and theirs.
"We tell his story to students as an example of bravery. He is an icon for them. They all want to be like him," says Principal Britto. On the College notice board is a colourful poster beckoning young people to join the Indian Army. Some inspired by Saravanan, have joined.

Eleven years ago, Major Sarvanan was martyred but he still lives on in the hearts of those who loved him. In the name of his friends' child, and in the annals of a grateful nation.

Flight Lieutenant Nachiketa Rao, Kargil hero

2009-06-27T00:36:00.000-07:00

The first of the Kargil War Heroes and their tales!

Flight Lieutenant Nachiketa Rao

.....We are proud of you Nachiketa!

Let's begin with a timeless tale, one that has been passed down from generation to generation in the great land of India. The hero of this tale is a young man by the name of Nachiketa. According to Indian history, he is the youth who goes to Yama, the Lord of Death, in order to discover the true meaning of Life. The dialogue between Nachiketa and the Lord of Death is contained in the immortal work, the Katha Upanishad. This work explains the most timeless question of all existence, "What lies beyond Death"? And it was Nachiketa who had the courage to confront even Death in his pursuit of the answer. In India, the mere mention of Nachiketa's name is instantly recognized as synonymous with the feeling of indomitable spirit, spiritual bravery and insurmountable courage in every human being.

It is no coincidence that the brave young soldier who is currently in the clutches of our enemy, holds the same name; Nachiketa. ( Nachiketa was released from Enemy captivity on 4th June 99)

Flight Lieutenant Nachiketa Rao turned 26 today. He had no fatherly blessings, sisterly hugs or sweetmeats to celebrate the event. Nachiketa probably spent his birthday in a dark and dangerous Pakistani prison, mocked by jeers of Jihad and insults. He is probably remembering the moments before he crashed onto Pakistani ground and felt the clammy grip of Pakistani fingers as they held him down.

It was a gloomy day when Nachiketa had set out with his squadron to carry out another air strike against the Islamic terrorists who were holed up in the treacherous snow-clad terrain of India's Kashmir. The landscape is littered with dangerously rocky ridges and shadowy valleys, which greatly hamper maneuverability and ease of flight. The objective was simple; to repulse the attempt by Pakistani troops lurking on the mountains along the Line of Control. For almost a week they had been trying to infiltrate into sovereign India's territory. As he flew over the mountains an ominous mist surrounded his plane and Nachiketa realized that he was right on the edge of the Line of Control. As he began veering his aircraft back towards Indian territory a sudden sputtering clued him to the fact that his engine had died out in a burst of flame as his MiG-27 combat Jet developed mechanical failure. Was it mechanical failure or Pakistani fire that had disrupted the engine? Who knows...

The last words that his colleagues heard before he faded out were: " Nachi - engine flame-out, relighting.... Nachi ejecting now." and then an ominous silence. As Nachiketa parachuted down the dark ragged edges of the snow-clad mountains, the sky was lit a brilliant red by the giant explosion of his hapless aircraft. And then suddenly as he landed on the rocky surface, Nachiketa observed a speck in the sky. It was his fellow pilot, a daredevil Squadron Leader by the name of Ajay Ahuja, hovering over in his MiG-21 straining his eyes to catch sight of the landing area of his colleague.

Suddenly an explosion reverberated across the horizon, as Nachiketa recoiled in horror. A missile from the Afghani Mujahideen stockpile found its mark and hit Ahuja's plane. Ahuja frantically radioed his team leader Hercules One, "missile hit" his voice crackled and then again a deathly silence.

Nachiketa must have watched in anticipation as Ajay parachuted out of his aircraft to escape the flames. There was a resounding crack as Ajay broke his left knee during the fall, and then all of a sudden menacingly dark shadows dressed in Pakistani Army uniforms, were lifting their guns and shooting Ajay at point blank range. They fired not once but twice straight through his head and heart. As Ajay and the rules of the Geneva Convention lay in a pool of blood, Nachiketa raised himself to his feet and put all his strength into a break for escape. When the menacing outlines of the Pakistani soldiers started looming closer in pursuit, he drew out his 9-mm pistol and fired eight straight rounds at them with unfailing accuracy. How the Jehadi blood must have boiled at this intolerable insolence! There were far too many to run from and Nachiketa must have steeled himself to accept his fate with determination as the rough callused hands of the Islamic Jehadis grabbed him.

He was thrown into the dank confines of a Pakistani prison. On Friday, the Pakistanis in a venomous display of cruelty paraded him in front of journalists, including representatives of international news channels like BBC and Voice of America. As the obscene parade continued, he was not allowed to speak to the reporters as Pakistani army personnel kept him at least at a distance of about 30 feet. "There are certain procedures which have to be followed," the Pakistani officials told journalists, who waved at the Indian pilot. He was touted as a "Prisoner of War" regardless of the fact that no war had been declared. Journalists observed a huge large red welt deepening across his forehead as Nachiketa faced them with calm serenity and strength etched into every line of his face. "He is being treated well and taken care of" sneered the Muslims as the journalists' attempts to communicate with Nachiketa were rebuffed by them. Pakistan's Information Minister Mushahid Hussain 's face wore the same sneer as he commented on how Nachiketa was "safe and sound" and being treated according to "Islamic traditions of hospitality". Indeed the same traditions of Islamic hospitality must have been aroused in Pakistani breasts as they shot Ajay Ahuja at point blank range, in an act of utmost cowardice and depravation.

It is these same Islamic traditions of hospitality which translate into cruel extremes of torture and inhuman treatment. Was it not Prophet Mohammed who set the standard for these traditions when he had killed and murdered millions of Jews and Pagans taken prisoner by his terrorist army? But remember it is no coincidence that the young man who is in Islamic custody right now is named Nachiketa in the tradition of that ancient brave soul of India. Just as that Nachiketa walked calmly into the jaws of death and walked out unscathed, so too will this warrior.

The incident is described clearly in the Katha Upanishad. As Nachiketa asks Lord Yama the secret of death, he sees the brilliance inherent in the youth and replies in a voice filled with wisdom.

"The wise, realizing through effort
The Timeless Self beyond all perception,
Hidden in the cave of the heart,
Leave pain and pleasure far behind.
Those who know they are not mere body or mind,
But the infinite Self, the Divine
The essence of existence, they discover the source
of all joy and live in the truth of it forever.
I see the doors of joy are opening
for you, O Nachiketa...."

So too have the doors of joy and fame immemorial been opened for our brave Nachiketa of the Indian Air Force. So too have the doors of joy opened for Ajay Ahuja who gave up his life in the Supreme sacrifice for his motherland. The name Ajay means "undefeatable" and even in his death Squadron Leader Ahuja has shown us the true meaning of this word. He was cremated with full military honors in a cremation ground in village Kili Nihal Singhwala near Bisiana Air Force Station. His brave four year-old-son Ankush helped by his relatives lit the funeral pyre in the presence of his widow Alka and a large number of Air Force personnel and civilians.

His memory will spur us on to punish those cowards who try in vain to usurp our territory!

Lest WE Forget

2009-06-27T00:15:00.000-07:00

26th July is Martyr's Day. It marks 10 years since the Kargil War...a war that no nation other than India recognises! A war that threw up daily acts of such raw courage that had we been a nation where the brave are feted, we would have run out of accolades. A war that would have had disastrous results had the Indian Armed Forces not proved itself to be one of the best in the world. A war that happened because we treated Pakistan and the threat it poses lightly. A decade later, we saw ‘Operation Kasab and his gang’ and the havoc they created in the heart of India ’s financial capital.

The heroes of Kargil are long gone, their work done. Each of their stories reads like a drumroll of honour. Men who were little more than boys and who turned into legends! I have not forgotten Capt. Vikram Batra, Capt Anuj Nayyar, Lt Vijayant Thapar, Lt Saurabh Kalia, Maj Ajay Jasrotia, and the countless others …their tales of valour must be read out to our children. We cannot afford to forget those who protected us at such odds!

There is a war still being fought in Kashmir where a young 25 year old Major fights with fifteen bullets in him and takes down three fidayeen down with him. We read about these men and turn the page. It is time to stand up and acknowledge our debt to the Armed Forces, time to realize the danger India is in, time to take action.

I do not know how to mark 26th of July. I do not know how to make it special. I would take my son to Amar Jawan Jyoti in Delhi and tell him the stories of these brave men. I also weep, mostly from pride! I might donate blood. Pretty futile gestures but they make me feel a little lighter!

I write this mail in the hope that all of us mark Martyr’s Day in any way we can. A nation is only as great as its heroes!

I always hear a scream when I see the word 'rape'

2009-01-08T08:52:00.000-08:00

Some ugly words in the English language …..
snot, gruesome, accursed, abandon, slime, decaying, deceit, carnage, bloodsucking,
maim, backstab…
and one of the ugliest is rape. I always hear a scream when I see this word. Read about the MBA student and I couldn’t sleep again at night. It took merely an evening to destroy the hopes of a girl, to throttle young promise and laughter and joy! There is now a girl who will jump at shadows all her life. And nothing can even the score for her. Ever.

For the men who think of it as a crime, ranking below murder, I offer a visual image….most girls will drink a bowlful of snot, decayed eggs, liquid roadkill if they had to make a choice between this and being raped. We would choose to be killed than be gangraped….I would kill to protect a girl from such a fate, if I could, without blinking! It is something we are warned about from the time we are baby girls, when ‘the enticing stranger’ is someone who can eat us maybe. And when we are old enough, we realize that we can be harmed in such a manner that our soul can be maimed. It is an act which is worse than murder….a raped woman has been damaged beyond repair and she still has to carry on living.

Since most people cannot understand the psyche of a victim and feel the death penalty is too stringent, why don’t we let the victim decide the magnitude of the punishment meted out. If a victim feels that it is no big deal, she can settle for a financial settlement or let the accused off with ‘a stern warning’…she can have his arm or leg or some other appendage cut off…let us give the victim a chance to get even. Let us see what is asked for in exchange…I can promise you it will be an eye-opener for us all!

I am thunderstruck that here justice is pure hogwash…the victim is punished over and over while the perpetrator is let off! Remember Santosh Kumar who entered Priyadarshini’s home to rape and kill her…and the judge let him go while stating that “I know you have committed the crime…” it was only the relentless efforts of a father who had nothing more to lose and an indignant public who finally saw that the man was put behind bars. Would the judge be this merciful had his daughter been the one to lose her life? Why do we bay for justice only when we or ours are harmed? How can a rapist have anything to say in his defence? Do you remember Aruna Shanbaug, the 19 year old nurse, raped by a sweeper in the very hospital where she worked? Choked by a dog chain? Still in hospital after more than 3 decades, unable to talk, walk, braindead…while her rapist walks free and lives his life !

We are two sisters and my dad is 5 feet 7 inches…he’s always been slight in build. BUT he would transform when he felt his daughters threatened…I have NO doubt in my mind that my dad would have killed to protect me and my sister! And he would have no remorse…the essence of a father is protection. He would extend this protection to my friends who came over to our house as he was conditioned by then. Does one need to have a daughter to realize that rape is frightfully wrong? All have been born of women…does this universal truth hold no insight?

We need to change laws which deal with rape…and change them fast. When it is child victims, there should be no other punishment other than the death penalty. And when victims are women then they should be given the choice of an adequate ‘exchange’! Let us see what price a woman puts on her self respect! I think that in such cases, most rapists will be happy to be hung!
I remember one boiling summer afternoon in Delhi when I was a thin married girl of 25. Had to take my Doberman out as usual when I found a young girl, literally gibbering with fright. She was terrified of my dog, yet she was sticking to me. Her mama had left her near a bus stand to go finish her work and two men had tried to grab her while she was standing there. I was instantly afire…took her back to the stand where sure enough, two mangy men were hanging about. I sat down and made the girl sit next to me while Lady, my Dobe, stood in front of us both and I prayed for the men to come near! Three females united! I think I might have been growling too. Those days I needed my husband when I had to open a jam jar but that afternoon, for 15 minutes, I was Kali! I just remember heat….heat of that merciless May sun and an inner heat that had me inflamed. Those two took off after sometime…they recognized my unspoken wrath that had me vibrating visibly! And I was disappointed for I wanted some bloodletting that day…the girl was an eight year old! I felt no pride then or now…I had just wanted a reckoning…and I knew that I would not have backed down! Not that day!

Life gives no second chances

2009-01-08T08:44:00.000-08:00

Is “understanding”an abusive word? I think it is when some of us urge the others to “understand” a terrorist’s point of view! Many of us feel that Kasab was brainwashed and that he actually is a victim as he is dirt poor. Okay, my brother was a toddler aged 2 and a half when he put his hand inside the mouth of a stray dog to rescue a half eaten squirrel. What made my brother feel this kind of compassion for an animal when so young and what made Kasab kill an unarmed unaware populace peacefully going about its business? Kasab supposedly studied till the forth standard…..my brother had not touched a book by then!

By the same lunatic reasoning, should we ‘understand’ vermin who rape babies? And ‘understand’ adult humans who beat strays to death, who poke out the eyes of puppies and leave them staggering around in unspeakable agony? Or should we ‘understand’ those who throw acid on young girls and make the rest of their lives a living hell? Maybe we should ‘understand’ Santosh Kumar who stalked a college going Priyadarshini Mattoo for two years and then entered her house where she was living under police protection, assaulting her so severely that he sustained fractures in his hands before finally strangling her! Would we be so ready to ‘understand’ if we were at the receiving end of such brutality? Should we get inside the mind of Manu Sharma who took a life over a simple refusal of a drink as the bar was closed? “Understand” him too? “Understand” human trafficking and pedeophilia! Child porn! Why not ‘understand’ the Austrian who fathered 7 children from his daughter he confined in a basement for over two decades? ‘Understand’ those who sprinkle petrol over a bear, panther, elephant which has strayed from its habitat and come into a village or a town, and then set it alight? So many things to ‘understand’ and so short a life!!

Or should we understand that these people concerned are not human….they cannot be reached by compassion or love and need to come back to earth again in a new and improved form! And to forgive them is an unforgivable act of weakness. They have proved beyond a doubt, that they are maneaters…predators. Do we leave them unleashed in a civilized society? Do you really think you can leave them in a world where your sons and daughters live?

There are some acts which are simply not acceptable. They make one’s gorge rise. To let them pass and go unpunished severely is a crime in itself! If we can find excuses for such behaviour and seek to understand it, we violate the concepts of fairness and justice.

We all have one life…we all are responsible for what we make of it. Life gives no second chances…a life gone is gone for all eternity. And one who kills with so much of malice and so little compassion had served his time here.

We need heroes to inspire and lend us clarity of mind and heart

2008-12-18T08:44:00.000-08:00

Okay, I’ve been down and out lately…the men of inaction leaving me completely demoralized, quenching my inner fire, dousing the rage with the ice water of pseudo intellectual talk. I write with a pen weighing me down and I realize that I will not let my flame flicker and die out…I will talk of Sam Manekshaw…he who makes me smile as I write about him. We need heroes to inspire and lend us clarity of mind and heart. Why I write about him….

After 2300 years of unremitting defeats of Indian armies against every invading army, Sam Manekshaw made the country experience the glow of a stunning victory against the Pakistan army in what is now Bangladesh . That will remain Field Marshal Manekshaw's unique position in Indian military history.

Field Marshal Sam Hormusji Framji Jamshedji Manekshaw, known as Sam “Bahadur”, or Sam the Brave, an honorific given him by the Indian Army’s Gurkhas, the mustachioed, twinkle eyed dapper, gentleman with the admirable sense of humour and courage of steel….that outspoken master of detail, has the rare distinction of being honoured for his bravery on the battle front itself. During World War II, he was leading a counter-offensive against the invading Japanese Army in Burma. As he charged forward with his men, a Japanese soldier suddenly emerged from the bushes and fired at him, wounding him seriously in the stomach. He caught nine bullets! Major General D.T. Cowan spotted Manekshaw holding on to life and was aware of his valour in face of stiff resistance from the Japanese. He quickly pinned his own Military Cross ribbon on to Manekshaw saying, "A dead person cannot be awarded a Military Cross.”

On another occasion, a General accused of misusing funds was marched up to him. "Sir, do you know what you are saying?" asked the General. "You are accusing a General of being dishonest." Replied Manekshaw: "Your Chief is not only accusing you of being dishonest but also calling you a thief. If I were you I would go home and either shoot myself or resign. I am waiting to see what you will do." The General submitted his resignation that evening.

On one occasion, he found that the Defence Secretary had penned his own observations on a note he had written to the Prime Minister and Defence Minister. Infuriated, Manekshaw took the file and walked straight into Mrs Gandhi's office. He told her that if she found the Defence Secretary more competent than him to advise her on military matters she did not have a need for him. The Defence Secretary was found a new job.

How we paid our last respects to this stalwart who died in 2008 aged 90? A man who walked his talk and did his job with great dignity, honour, raw courage? Guess! The Prime Minister, along with the Army, Navy, and Air-Force Chief's, all missed his funeral—which was a modest one held in Tamil Nadu in the south, not a grand one in the capital.

If we had one Sam Bahadur in politics, we had nothing to fear! If we had a thousand Sam Bahadurs, India would be safe and well ahead of the rest.

What gives me hope is that Indians have shared their land with some mighty, mighty men….that there is a hidden message for all those who question being born in India. Do you think it is chance that made us Indians, a random occurence? Or do you see the potential? Why have we been born Indians is a question we have to answer ourselves….if you live the American dream, go ahead. If you despise your motherland, escape her! There is no right or wrong here. A man who is ashamed of his country is ashamed of himself...that is a cross he has to bear.

Famous quotations of Sam, the soldier

"Gentlemen, I have arrived and there will be no withdrawal without written orders and these orders shall never be issued" -During 1962 War, when he was sent to North East Frontier Agency (NEFA) to command retreating Indian forces against the Chinese force.

"I wonder whether those of our political masters who have been put in charge of the defence of the country can distinguish a mortar from a motor; a gun from a howitzer; a guerrilla from a gorilla.

"You received three at this age; when I was of your age, I received nine bullets and look- today, I am the Commander in Chief of the Indian Army."- During the 1971 Indo-Pakistan War when he met an injured soldier in Army Hospital with three bullet wounds.

"If anyone tells you he is never afraid, he is a liar or he is a Gurkha."- On the Gurkha Battalion of the Indian Army.

"I'm always ready, sweetie,"- 1971 war, on being asked by Indira Gandhi about the Indian Army's readiness.

"Don't you think I would be a worthy replacement for you, Madam Prime Minister? You have a long nose. So have I. But I don't poke my nose into other people's affairs."- To Indira Gandhi, on rumours of him planning a coup to replace her.

Fare thee well, old soldier! Your epitaph should read " Here lies A Man Of Action! Sleep well after a duty well done and God bless.

We are superb cowards and bullies par excellence....

2008-12-18T08:32:00.000-08:00

Had started blogging because I was a raging, average Indian….normally quite placid and never looking for trouble; with a great capacity for endurance. Something snapped that Wednesday and I was so sure that we were on the verge of some breakthrough! After reading all the nonsensical write-ups that have begun surfacing…I am in despair. There are so many rationales for what happened. Someone has said that all the rich were attacked hence the hullabaloo…the poor die everyday and there is silence…Tarun Tejpal says that the elite are to blame and the Gujarat riots which went unpunished have resulted in this Wednesday in December. Really, am I banging my head against a wall here? Can nobody see what I see?

Kasab’s village in Pakistan is Faridkot, the villagers all seem to view the media as a threat and do not want to even acknowledge the fact that they knew this unholy creature…off camera, they cannot stop giving out information about this miserable man. Apparently, he had come to take his mother’s blessing before setting out for jihad.

Pakistan refuses…..just refuses every demand that we make….I may as well stand under a neem tree and demand from it mangoes! “Demanding” anything from Pakistan is like asking the sheikhs for free oil…not going to happen even if Hell freezes over. Yet everyday, we make fresh “demands”!

The politician is already on to other agendas! He was shown in a very poor light and he took a week, ten days off…and is back in his old avatar! The Shiv sainiks tore up a lawyer’s place who was supposed to defend Kasab. And while a mob of them raised merry Cain there, a couple of policemen with the ever ready danda made faint, feeble gestures of maintaining law and order. Where was this mob when 2 terrorists went up and down Bombay (yes, I say Bombay now and forever, Mumbai is an idiotic change), firing at will and brought life to a complete halt? Like I said, we are superb cowards and bullies par excellence….one unarmed lawyer doing his job we can handle! 10 terrorists left loose make our teeth chatter like castanets all week long.

Which means that we are doomed to have such scenarios repeated because we do not learn ANYTHING at all. There is a belief that we will face similar situations in life till the time we evolve and handle them…so if a man runs away from trouble, trouble will pursue him all the time, till one day he has his back to the wall and has run his limit….he will have to fight some day, some time. In some life.

Then there are some bleeding heart jackasses who hold that “war will take away food from starving babies”…why on earth did India free herself from the British Raj and pay the stiff price of partition and a million dead? And in our villages, when “starving babies” die in peace time, is it acceptable? Please do not hide cowardly hearts in intellectual debates! Name ONE COUNTRY that would not have waged war when such an incident happened….one country! Name one country which has such a God-awful approach towards terrorism! We just let terrorists bloom and blossom and fruit and seed….and hold raging debates when they spread death and destruction! We should perhaps talk the terrorists to death since we excel at this one thing!

Can we have marathon talks and kill off our enemies? There’s an idea! Overwhelm them with words till they shoot themselves with their own bullets to escape this constant, verbal barrage.

We appall the world with our moral, physical, ethical weaknesses!

2008-12-13T02:54:00.000-08:00

A few years back I had caught an Oprah Winfrey show where an eye catching woman, flashing diamonds, took the audience on a tour of her house. I still shudder to recall those images. That lady had a small dog and one of her loos was chock-a-block with small, black pellets. You guessed it…it was dried dog poo! Probably years old! And the rest of the interior matched that filth encrusted bathroom….things had gone so much out of hand that that woman came on the show and faced the disgust and horror of strangers to ask for professional aid in cleaning up herself and her home. I thought she should have burned down her house and started afresh!

Reminds me of Indians and India…we have let things get so much out of hand that we too have years of excreta jamming up all our systems and now look at each other and debate about what is to be done! The frailer ones decide to jump ship and emigrate…others just continue to exist in this unwholesome set up.

Nothing works here….and even when we are torn apart and blown up into bloody chunks, the survivors and onlookers debate!

If debates could replace action then we would be the most efficient people on the planet…the TV each day covers people from various fields…debating! Endless repetitions of what happened and why and how! What should be done, and can be done and how to do it!

Our politicians breast beat in public and apologise and…debate! What their party has done, and how and why they are superior to the other parties. And the only time their vacant eyes show steely determination, it is when they are direct contenders to the “kursi”….the rest of the time, they are on auto pilot. You can blow up their public to kingdom come and they would go about their business as if all was peachy perfect!

Its been a fortnight since the Indian public was ambushed and attacked, as it went about its business, by trained militants now proven beyond doubt to have come in from Pakistan …and we debate! Pranab Mukerji says that India will not tolerate any of this any longer. So what are we doing now? Aren’t we tolerating? And enduring? And what a fine message we are delivering to a world wide audience….come and kill us when you please and as you please and in as many innovative ways as you can dream up…and we will debate!

We are a scared nation who make public displays of lamenting and have the memories of goldfish…lasting precisely 5 seconds!

We are in deep, deep trouble.

Pakistan is showing far more fire and mettle….it will not give us Dawood. It will not send the ISI chief here although it is so very very sad about what went on here… where is the proof? All know about its policy towards terrorism…Pakistan has never been its advocate and will wipe out terrorism from the face of the earth….excuse their tiny training camps in their backyards….national security matters, you see!! Overlook the fact that Kasab is singing like a canary and spilling all the beans, in between calling out to his mother. Pakistan wants proof! And Pakistan always gets what it wants! So we aam Indians can like it or lump it! Life is unfair, get used to it!

We are going to get strafed again and we will catch a glimpse of hell on earth…the unluckier ones will get a bellyful of the terrorist might and in that aftermath too…we will debate!

We will continue to have no stomach for fights, and we will discuss fair play and dissuade the hotheads amongst us that anger never achieved anything, we will debate and backpedal and discuss terrorism till it feels like an old friend…and wait to be blown up again…so that we can again congregate and light candles and march and abuse our leaders and give vent to all the emotions that have no outlet ordinarily and wait again for some more bombs! After all we are a billion strong…can’t we spare a thousand odd countrymen every few months to some terrorist activity? Ha, ha..where is your sense of humour!

Circular paths! Retracing our steps over and over again! The sheer futility of life itself!

Whom can we call and where can we air the disgusting cesspool of our lives to get some professional help? Where is Oprah? Let us take her on a guided tour and show her the mockery we have made of our lives....let the audience gasp with loathing….who lives in homes like ours?

I feel a deep connection with that poor doctor who made it his business to check security in cabs and is now in police custody! He is trying to make a difference….he is fighting back. He realized that nothing would shake off our immense lethargy and inertia and tried to do his bit. Let the man off, for Christ’s sake and go catch some terrorists!

Aren’t we stereotypical bullies? All bullies are cowards…so we let other countries wallop us around and cringe! And when we catch someone weaker, don’t we just come into our own? Publicly lynching cycle thieves, dragging young boys, who wrote love letters behind tractors, beating up pregnant women who we suspect of petty theft, throwing people with children off trains and buses because they had no ticket, gouging out eyes of stray dogs and painting them with burning coal tar…..ah, then we are unstoppable! And how do we treat men who come and make mincemeat of us and our families, who machine gun us to the ground, who send us for months to hospitals, who orphan our kids and leave us with missing limbs?

We do nothing!
We debate!
We wait!
We make each other laughing stocks!
We appall the world with our moral, physical, ethical weaknesses!

Rabindranath Tagore had written a powerful poem which we had to memorise in school…

“Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken in fragments by narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depths of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my father, let my country awake!”

Where is that India ? Did it exist only in the minds of the patriots? Was it only a figment of their imagination?

I too have a prayer…

May the sleeping Indian awaken, Lord! And during his slumber, do not abandon him, O Lord!

The weak and the meek become extinct!

2008-12-08T06:48:00.000-08:00

Just when I think my rage has abated, I hear or see an image which again brings me full circle. This time around it was a set of colour photographs. They show two grievously injured men, who later succumbed, lying after being shot down. I cannot get them out of my head, two men with wives, and small children, with mothers and sisters smote down for nothing! This is what gives birth to my savage anger…to die for nothing. A life which could have been so much more, hacked away merely because an animal in the garb of a man thought of destruction. We are all questioning that how could only 10 men wreak such havoc. One man can do so! Is it difficult to open fire on an unarmed multitude going about its business? To kill is so easy…I wonder at the mentality that can destroy and not build, that can kill this murderously but not debate, that considers all fair game….and it leaves me with just one thought.

We cannot forgive and move on, till we resolve this state of matters we just cannot proceed. It is WRONG to carry on…we owe the dead. There is a time when the most undecided of us will have to take a stand…a time when we will no longer question and just act. And I know the time is now. If this does not raise our hackles and make us congregate in the open with war cries, I can assure you, nothing ever will.

Tomorrow they will mow down school kids and we will go about our business because we would have been inoculated against horror and pain! They will kill grannies and we will reason that the old have to die! They will be driven to more and more outrageous acts because that is the sole principle of terrorism…to generate such mayhem that the living give up!

We cannot surrender, we cannot say that darkness will envelop us and we have no way out. History has shown that endurance brings no victory…we cannot build fortresses and hide away from so determined and ruthless a foe! Life is all about decisions….and however much we want to believe that the meek will rule, that is not going to happen! The weak and meek become extinct! THAT is the truth behind evolution too. All forms that cannot compete die out! We have all studied history and the life sciences…law too states that it is within our basic rights to retaliate with a proportionate force to the danger perceived…which means that if one is being mugged, one can stick a knife in the lawbreaker’s arm or leg and if a fellow comes after us with murder in his heart, we can pre-empt him and kill him first and we are not only blameless but protected by law! Religion too tells us to fight when running away is no longer an option. Why have all the avatars been born in warrior forms? Why does the samurai generate such reverence? Why has literature sung about the defenders, the fighters in such glorious prose? Why do poets deify the soldier? Because sometimes it is the greatest dharma to engage in battle! He who cannot protect himself and his home will never have poems composed in his honour…he will be forgotten even while he is alive. Sometimes pride is all we have and that unbending, unforgiving pride can sustain us when the going is tough!

Remember Rana Pratap….a king with such fierce pride that he did not give up when all the rest had and, lived to see his son eat chappatis made of grass, he never won but he lived free and died free and still is a symbol of glory and honour! A king who lived the hard life a soldier and became immortal. Even his steed gained a place in history…who has not heard of Chetak, the worthy horse of a worthy king! Maharashtra gave birth to Shivaji, the mighty Maratha who fought and hid, and fought and hid…played hide and seek with an enemy that out numbered him by far, and never gave up. These warriors with an iron will never won the war but they could never be tamed…and their feats have become legend! They were Indians…somewhere within us we must have the same fearless braveheart…we too have breathed the same air and shared the same earth. Time to bring him out…and to bring out an ancient pride! A centuries old sense of honour and do or die spirit! The fire of a soldier who battles for what he believes is right! The righteous wrath of the wronged!

Where have all the tears gone?

2008-12-08T06:38:00.000-08:00

I have a part of me which is very naïve….it makes me believe that when one is hurt and cries out aloud, help arrives. I believe that good always triumphs, I believe in prayers being answered, I seriously believe that if I were involved in an accident and were lying helpless, a good Samatarian would stop to pick me up.

I have never disregarded what I believed to have been a distress call. I think it is a human impulse which all of us possess and listen to.

I have dogs at home…see, I do not say I keep dogs…I am lost without them, their presence completes me. Sometimes as I lie listening to music and my dogs lie near me, I roll over and let our foreheads touch and I know that He who has made me has made them, I can sense our connection.

I admit that I cry when I listen to Sufi songs…and I do not understand a word! I cry when I pray very hard and it is so very embarrassing.....I always have a tear in my eyes when I hear our national anthem. When the Sabri brothers sang on one chilly night in Delhi , I wailed away and was very glad of their robust voices which concealed my sobs very effectively. My crowning moment was when I first came to Bombay and had gone to drop my son to his bus stop and we saw a stray dog with one eye and suddenly there I was, weeping away unabashedly with Sangram patting my shoulder and looking around to see who else had caught sight of his mom making a spectacle of herself.

So as you can see crying comes easy and I seem to be getting better with age. One would have thought that all the horror of these past days would have wiped out the entire tissue supply of neighbouring shops…but I do not cry. I did not cry when I saw the emptied station with abandoned heaps of luggage mixed indiscriminately with congealed pools of blood and footwear strewn all along which captured the essence of what went on there, I did not cry when we saw the tally of the killed and wounded, I did not cry when I saw the proud Taj being strafed into submission, I did not shed a tear when I saw the dead Major’s mother talk to a son lying in his casket, I did not cry when I saw sons cremate their fathers and their mothers turned to stone, I did not cry when I saw a father raging at the world when they handed him his only son in a coffin ( he reminded me so much of my dad), I did not cry when I read about The Taj GM who lost a wife and children, yet kept on saving the others….my tears have hardened into a mixture of rage and anguish.

I know that tears have no place here…they are weak, weak, weak! They have turned to lava and they burn the back of my throat and keep me awake. I do not want to talk and when I see the political guys trying to wriggle out of the cesspit they have created with their filthy, filthy ideas, I wish I could change a bit of the scenario and include them too in this spectacle which exceeds all nightmares! The terrorist shooting at random and getting away to later realize he shot down his family, A Vilasrao bidding farewell to his only son (where are the grins now, eh, fatface??), a Patil finding his own charred home and shrugging nonchalantly “aise hadse to hote rahte hain”, A livid Rane cursing his party upon seeing the dead (not now when he has been rejected for the post of CM), An Achutanand…(by the way, very appropriate name, suits him, how did his mother know)….being attacked and savaged by hordes of dogs as soon as he opened his mouth to utter sacrilege, Naqvi condemned to live forever with a wife in all her “natural’ beauty complete with 6 inch moustache and 4 inch goatee, and body hair which can be plaited (now why do you wail for beauty parlours and cosmetics, you pathetic throwback!), A…what IS Benazir’s husband’s name, Bhutto?? (There’s some cashing in on the dead wife’s name, politicians are a breed apart) saying at a press conference that Pakistan is not involved and a grenade shatters a wall to show a terrorist training camp in his garden, the ISI chief stating firmly his innocence and Osama’s call coming in loud and clear on his answering machine, Mme Rice shaking hands with the Pak delegation and then looking down to realize that her wristwatch and rings are missing and 3 of her fingers too ….I wish I could be scriptwriter for a day! Tear down all these veils of hardcore lies, expose the deceit and get redressal!

And I take heart from the anger I see reflected in others…this anger is good, it will burn all apathy, it will get things done, it is infinitely better than the tears and wails that have been of no account till now, it will start something new. We might see a phoenix rise from the burning flames of our collective anger!

Do not sit down and give up!

2008-12-06T09:53:00.000-08:00

Got a mail from a thoughtful uncle who wants to post my writing on his blog and asked me what alias I would like to use. I told him to use my real name…the very idea of hiding seems abhorrent, I do no wrong. I do not go out and shoot down people in cold blood and dance over the dead! It’s a trifle late for me to pick up arms…and all the wishing in the world cannot change what is!

But I will keep writing. I can do nothing more….I am the accursed thinker. In another life, I may become a doer. I am the coal that burns, what use it is put to depends upon the others. The realm of thought is easily occupied by me….the world of action inhabited by the soldier raises many, many emotions in me. Makes me a mite envious too…he hears the call and marches off to do his duty with no fanfare.

I talk of the Armed Forces, I include all those in uniform who protect us….I encompass all those who don the uniform and when the time comes, do not retreat. The greater common good is what they see and can sacrifice this life so that others may live. I find it the most evolved expression of human thought! And I like paying off my debts…to acknowledge that I labour under such a great karmic debt leaves me agonized!

Peace comes to us at a cost. The financial one is the most easy to return…the moral one crushes me and makes me desperate to pay back in any way, however insignificant!

I should like it if there were some camps held where all interested were taught some basic life saving techniques. So that when next we come upon an injured person we do not look the other way merely because we feel useless and inadequate! I think to help another is an elemental quality present in all of us, the ones who walk away feel they cannot do anything. Otherwise when one comes upon a person with a shrapnel splinter in him, what does one do beside yelling and throwing up one’s hands up in the air? Maybe faint?

I think blood donation should become a part of our lives….one feels most worthy after giving up a pint.

And I really, really endorse military training for all of us…for a year. Nothing will kill off this shabby politics of division which our dear politicians practice on us so often and with such deadly results, faster. Riots are such an awful price to pay for hatred. When we perceive the enemy within we burn, loot, murder, torture, destroy trains, buses, buildings which are our own, for crying out loud!....and when the real enemy comes, see how everybody melts away! I would curse Mr. Thackeray when his subversive policies seemed to be working…do you now see what a charlatan he was? Killing off people so poor that they had to come looking for work away from home, leaving family behind and this Godawful man not only snatched the morsel from their mouth but beat them up too. Terrorised a man so weak! Working to sustain oneself and one’s family is a crime? Looking for work is a crime and one must pay for it with one’s life? This is what this insect taught! And he had followers!!

I pray that we have had our eyes well and truly opened and the next time some creep of a politician asks us to finish a community, we turn around and lynch him right there and relieve this earth of a worthless burden!

How have we all been so blind? And when the true enemy turns up, lo and behold! We are suddenly on our own…not a leader in sight, not even their rowdy henchmen to provide us with some back up! Just what happens to all these ‘maai ke laal’? I am so utterly disgusted with our leadership that I cannot find the energy or will to abuse them. I just want a responsible, sturdy character at the helm who does not wish to push us all collectively in the fire and watch gleefully as we leap about in the flames.

Who are all these fat guys on TV, talking nonsense…how come they represent me? I would not trust my dog in their safekeeping. What has happened? How did we go so wrong? How can they tell me to choose between criminals….it’s either them or then I don’t vote? How come politicians who have been seen by eyewitnesses to be involved in riots roam scot-free, stand for elections? Tell me, I am clueless and bewildered! I cannot park without getting a ticket…how do these guys survive after creating open mayhem in broad daylight? And I can’t get a tenant out of my house and that fellow doesn’t even pay rent? I wait 20 years to fight and finish a case! Where did the law of the land go? It seemed to have gone off with no forwarding address either! And why did we let it happen so easily?

I just hope to God that my fellow Indian will not give up and sit down…I hope he continues to rant and rage and organize and shows me which way to turn…right now I am thoroughly lost and the only thing which keeps me from giving in to utter panic is the hope that I am among my own who are a very determined lot right now!

Enough, enough, enough!

2008-12-06T09:49:00.000-08:00

Hey, people! Let us throw in our lot with Israel . I have admired them forever. I read “The Diary Of Anne Frank” in school and it had appalled me even then. The Israelis know how to deal with terror and terrorists so effectively that they have no peers.

We are looking to the world for an ally….let Israel be our friend…that small, staunch country which has the memory of an elephant and the heart of a lion! And the iron will to defend itself that silences the continents….when Israel stands up in its defence, it sees nothing, hears no reason, tolerates no mediation…I think I see them very clearly today and like what I see. I want to be that strong, that unbending….I’ve had enough of sitting on the fence and looking up for succor and relief from the ‘developed nations’…..out with my begging bowl like a typical Third World country, my pride nonexistent, an unquestioning acceptance of all the verbal and physical blows that come my way! No honour, no hope…just a mangy cur with its tail between its legs!

Enough of this miserable existence…..of this dying in anonymity. Being held at knife point by terrorists who do not ambush me in some dark dingy alley but inside my own home!
Enough, enough, enough!

The enemy is who threatens the safety of me and my countrymen

2008-12-06T09:30:00.000-08:00

Since I am baring my heart and soul and mind, let me go where angels fear to tread.

I wish I could see the enemy as Muslim…makes it easy to segregate and focus on someone. But I cannot. And I do not say this merely because I want to score brownie points. The time for me being diplomatic is long past.

When I ‘think’ Muslim, I come up with a bus driver who drove me as a 19 year old from Lucknow to what I believed was Fatehpur and which turned out after 5 gruelling hours to be the wrong hamlet. He saw my apprehension and made me sit in the long-ago emptied bus while he made the conductor make inquiries. Then he told me to stay put and made me sit on the front seat where he could keep an eye on me. We drove back to Lucknow, night falling fast. A youngster sat next and did what idiots that age do...he sang some miserable Hindi love songs and sat so close that I could smell his hair oil. The bus driver threw him off the bus and made a very elderly gentleman sit next to me, who coughed in my ear nonstop but it was infinitely more reassuring! The bus driver was Muslim…he wore the white skullcap and white kurta-pyjama. I can see him very clearly in my mind’s eye two decades later! He dropped me very close to my grandmother’s house with strict instructions to go straight home! He knew I was Hindu. I never thanked him in my relief and I know he most probably is dead as he was old then. I wish I could meet him. He believed himself responsible for a young girl who had strayed from home. That is a big debt which I lug around.

The second one who comes to mind is a colleague of my jijaji who was in the Indian Air Force. They were posted in Baroda and the communal riots were deadly. The colleague was Muslim and was asked to remove his name tag by friends. He was livid and did not do so. Baroda was burning…my jijaji would try and accompany him always. That Muslim was in the Armed Forces and it was enough!

When I think ‘muslim’, I am reminded of my son’s best pal in a former school...Ali. Ali and Sangram were inseparable. Ali’s mother fed Sangram so many times that I lost count. I know that if ever Sangram was in trouble and near them, they would enfold him like I would Ali! I have no doubt in my mind…these two even looked alike!

When I think “Muslim”, I see a gentle classmate Shahgoofta, I see another who would cry on my shoulder as she did not want to get married and the D-day was approaching fast. I remember the long talks and her desperation to study further.

In Mumbai, I was driven about by Khan for 4 months, a hotheaded fellow whom I clicked with instantly and we would chatter non-stop on the 3 hr long journeys. Now Khan is most opinionated and has something to say on every topic. He answered all my questions that I put to him with no hesitation…we discussed religion among many other topics. I would ask my husband to send me only Khan specially if I had to travel alone and return at night. I trust the guy.

I was in the 4th grade or maybe 5th, when I read about Abdul Hamid during our Hindi lessons…and since I had never heard of him, his story held me spellbound when the lesson finished with “woh veergathi ko prapt huay”, I cried. I wanted him to live and kill some more enemy soldiers. It never struck me that Abdul Hamid was Muslim…he was a true hero and he won the highest award there is for bravery. We would play act at home and march around yelling ‘Company Quarter Master Havildar Abdul Hamid ki Jai” for days after this lesson. And I still get gooseflesh when I narrate his story to my son.

The enemy for me is who threatens the safety of me and my countrymen. That is why I feel that we all need to do a stint in the army…all of us, for about a year. All this mistrust will vanish if we defend our country side by side. It will become a non issue…ask any fauji…his comrade is his comrade and the hell with religion and politics. When one faces enemy fire together, see how fast the non essentials fall away from lives!

The Terrorist-a Devil's creation

2008-12-06T09:13:00.000-08:00

I have read ‘An open letter to a Terrorist’ that someone seething with indignation has written in The Mumbai Times. Writing does help greatly in getting rid of the roiling emotions felt. But the terrorist is not one who can be rescued…he is recruited by the very Devil himself. He has no soul, he is beyond the reach of us mortals. He marches to a beat he and his like can only hear…a drumbeat of hatred and venom. He knows and recognizes the darkness within him and can only connect to pain and fear. When he sees us he wants us to experience what he can unleash and when we lie before him with glazed eyes and torn bloody bits, something in him rejoices and celebrates. Do not make the mistake of seeing in him a human. Do not attribute human qualities to him. He is a scourge in human form. He wears a disguise. He is nothing but evil personified.

Can you shoot down an old bowed lady who walks with the support of her son’s shoulder? Worse still, can you shoot down that son? Can you fire upon a woman giving birth? Even animals spare the new born's of other species! Can you kill a father out on a stroll with his children? Can you kill a youth who has stars in his eyes? Can you kill the hopes of an entire family and leave them as mere shells? If you can do that and sleep at night and live with yourself and look at your face in the mirror each day, then you have begun to understand a terrorist, not before!

Recognise him for what he is. No negotiations, no pleas, no crying and begging for mercy…he becomes more powerful when we grovel at his feet. Talk to him in his own language…wipe out his father and mother and grandparents and children. Teach him the language of the bomb and the bullet also…that is the only tongue he understands and listens to. Destroy him. I do not want to share the same planet as him. He is God’s enemy.

Never underestimate him.

Never tolerate him.

Never redeem him.

Never listen when he talks.

Never spare him.

Pursue him to the ends of the earth, dig him out from his hiding holes, shoot him like a rabid, diseased animal. All those who shelter him, feed him and his cause and justify him need to go with him…they are the underlings of the devil too. They are the weak ones, too afraid to come out yet as guilty as sin. Wanting a foot in both worlds…finish them too. Let us not bury or cremate his body on our soil…put him on the border in no-man’s lie to rot under the sky….they destroy homes…let them find no resting place even in death.

It is laughable when we say he is a victim of society and that we made him. I had a man working for us, Sunder. Sunder is 4 feet 6 inches tall, illiterate, born of illiterate parents , married at 20 to a woman with a disabled right arm, father of 4 children who came one after the other and as a result, the younger two cannot walk. Sunder worked like a demon from morning till night six days a week. If anyone should have been a terrorist, it should have been him. Living in a hovel, never stood a chance from the day he was born. Worse he knows he is doomed. Slaving and just about managing to keep his family’s head above water. The day he falls ill and cannot work, his family is finished. Now Sunder prays, he believes in a God who has so far given him the life described. And if he does not spread the hopelessness he faces every waking hour, how can a terrorist justify himself?

If we picked up a gun each time we felt victimized and shot down others, how on earth would that help? Which one of us has not gone through at least one horrendous crisis in life? I do not see my friends or family shoot others for relaxation and to get rid of problems. I should think that would really cook our goose. Do not seek to forgive him, do not search for his humanity…he is beyond us. He belongs to the shadows and serves the Horned One. Let us not gather a terrorist to our bosom in the misbegotten hope that he is the prodigal son. And let us see the SOB with no blinkers on. If we see him as a man of religion, we may as well do what lemmings do…..jump en mass into the waters of some large enough water body and truly escape this world!

Vultures are circling the sky....look up!

2008-12-06T09:00:00.000-08:00

I have been writing till my fingers cramp this past week…why? Why did I remain silent when Delhi saw blasts, during the Jaipur dhamakas? I lived in Delhi when we saw bombs going off in different places on different dates. So it is certainly not because of that I’m here now. It is because I saw a real threat, a very big danger to all India. This time the terrorist has planned and plotted for a long time and has reached a level of competency which surpasses its previous attempts by far. BY FAR! We are in terrible danger and the clock is ticking!

Today the level of this danger lies exposed when Pakistan has been reprieved by the US…Pakistanis have the world’s most wanted hidden away in their country which gives it an edge… America wants Osama so much that it would sell its mother to get at him. We have NO allies. We stand alone in the world today. I have 2 generations of Forces blood in my veins…believe me, we are on the highway to disaster if we do not take a tough stand today. The civilian may be unaware but this exact scenario is what we have talked about for years in the fauji circles…..ask them, it comes as no surprise there. What do you expect when Pakistan has gotten away with murder, no pun intended, for years? It was stated ‘Ki humko ghar mein ghush kar marega Pakistani’ if we did not show our teeth. We have miles and miles and miles of borders….impossible to patrol all the time. We have infiltration going on all the time….even a country like Bangladesh knows how easy it is to get into India . The Nepali comes and goes as he pleases. The terrorist comes and goes, tea in Pakistan , lunch in India , breakfast again in Pak!! God! Aren’t we gluttons for punishment! Can we check the billion Indians each time they travel…and their baggage? Is it humanly possible, especially now when the politicians’ long sweet siesta has resulted in terror cells all over the place… Hyderabad , Delhi , Mumbai…the terrorists have safe houses all over the countryside!

I repeat…hit them now and hit them hard. Hit the hands that feed them…attack the terror camps in Pak and blast them into kingdom come….the Armed Forces are ready. If there is anyone who deals us a winning hand it is them. The fauji wins every time…despite all odds. And we need to stop being scared so much…the person who has sympathy with the terrorist is nobody…he has no religion, no country…stop labeling them and pussyfooting around. We have to stop being defensive, stop protecting...we have to go on the offensive….make them protect themselves…let them also get a taste of blood and terror. The enemy will not stop, I stake my life on this fact. We will have to make them.

The vultures are circling in the sky….look up! We think the US is our godfather…fat chance! The US would be our best friend if we suddenly discovered oil….till then I am afraid, that you and me will have to protect each other’s back.

I am ready….are you?

Only the strong can experience peace

2008-12-06T08:46:00.000-08:00

In a saner life, I am a homemaker. I am also greatly interested in the occult and I do what almost all Hindus do…pray at the drop of a hat! I do free tarot readings because I believe that there are two realms, one is here and now and then there is a higher one and money cannot bridge these two. I have a happy home, I believe, and the future holds a promise. Had you asked me this question a week back, I would have said that I was a happy, content person, on a quest to connect myself to an elevated power.

Today, there is a samurai inside me and he struggles to throw away the yoke of mother and wife. I believe I hear my nation calling….I hear it in my dreams and I am writhing. I, who have never run half a kilometer in my life…I, who fall asleep during political debates…I, who always back down from the neighbour who fights over parking space!! I hear a call to arms.

Strange that I no longer pray for peace. My prayers do not have any conviction and when I gaze at my Gods, they seem to be looking back inquiringly. The time for prayer is past. One must protect his home and hearth, only THEN he has a right to ask for divine help too. It has taken me a long time to awaken. I could never see the terrorist as a human being though and all debate over what makes a terrorist seemed pretty pointless to me. The terrorist cannot be seen as a normal person…there is something very rotten inside him which spews forth the venom of a mamba. There is no heroism or bravery there…how can shooting ailing people in hospitals and injuring babies be anything but yellow hearted cowardice! There is no thought involved, no awakening in the terrorist. He is just a killing machine, devoted to darkness and its Masters. And since he is not human and he literally shoots his message into us, we would be quite frightfully stupid to use emotion while dealing with him. Which brings me to the other monsters we have slowly created and now when they stand before us in all their vile glory, we look askance at each other. And we panic!

When our politicians stand up for election and they have criminal records, who tolerates them? We are told not to hire servants without police verification and we choose men with police records to run the country? Do you see the irony here? We choose those as our public face whom we would not open our homes to! Why are we disgusted at them now? They have not changed. Did we not catch them out over and over, in countless sting operations over a period of years, buying and selling each other, going about their business in so filthy a fashion that all of us agree that politics is not for the fainthearted? Remember our drunk MLAs firing unlicensed weapons during marriage receptions and laughing it off the next day! Remember what the ruling party did in Bihar when Laloo’s daughter was getting married? They hold the nation to ransom themselves, no wonder they are so soft on the others who do so!!

I go down on my knees before the educated. Please stand up for election…be our candidates. You may be a principal of a school or a retired Forces personnel, or just someone whose endurance with our system has finished. Stand up for your country. We will muddle through this together….things cannot get any muckier. We are already bombed till our wits are addled. Anyone other than these fat buffoons…PLEASE!! Doctors engineers, anyone who feels the burden of our hopes and aspirations and who will not sleep easy at night till the mission is accomplished.

It is an impossible mission…a mission to make us find ourselves, a mission to ignite national pride, to take the Indian juggernaut on the road. But it can be done if the Indian gets up with steely determination. It just needs a tremendous love for our country and it is clear that almost all feel this love. This public anger and outcry is the manifestation of national love. The media is also one of our strengths. We all can feel the force of its power used constructively…it has become the voice of our torn spirits. It exposes our self serving leaders mercilessly…did anyone see them run around so much with such grave expressions till they realized they would have to go? Disaster for them is losing their seat of power, not the bodies of the 500 sacrificed at the altar of their pettiness. A leader who cannot take responsibility when things go wrong and who fights to take credit for all that goes right is pathetic. He is a loser!

We are standing on the threshold of change, let our legs not tremble now. The common Indian has lifted his voice in unison and it is like a river bursting its banks….we see our strength when we are together! Do you now understand why every politician seeks to divide us into manageable chunks? All together we are a formidable force!

There is a time for peace and a time for war. And believe me, down the ages only the strong have experienced peace. This is no time to sit still and lick our wounds and question our strength. Not the time to preach caution and tolerance. If today we do nothing, tomorrow we are dead. There will be no second chances, no replays. The politician will be more shameless, less accountable, the terrorist more murderous and better armed, other countries more contemptuous and further ahead, our tears endless and our hopes dead! If we are struck once more, we can start planning mass migration because India ’s future will be as bloodstained and bullet riddled as the marble foyer of the Taj.

A Soldier Died Today

2008-12-06T08:14:00.000-08:00

A Soldier Died Today

He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast
And he sat around the Legion telling stories of the past,
Of a war that he had fought in and the deeds that he had done
In his exploits with his buddies; they were heroes, everyone.

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors, his tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer, for old Bob has passed away
And the world's a little poorer, for a soldier died today.

No he won't be mourned by many, just his children and his wife,
For he lived an ordinary very quiet sort of life,
He held a job and raised a family, quietly going on his way;
And the world won't note his passing; 'tho a soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth, their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great,
Papers tell of their life stories from the time that they were young,
But the passing of a soldier goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution to the welfare of our land
Some jerk who breaks his promise and cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow who in times of war and strife
Goes off to serve his Country and offers up his life?

The politician's stipend and the style in which he lives
Are sometimes disproportionate to the services he gives,
While the ordinary soldier, who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal, and perhaps a pension small.

It's so easy to forget them, for it was so long ago
That our Bob's and Jim's and Johnny's went to battle, but we know
It was not the politicians, with their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom that our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger with your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out with his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a soldier who has sworn to defend
His home, his kin, and country, and would fight until the end?

He was just a common soldier and his ranks are growing thin
But his presence should remind us, we may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict, then we find the soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles that the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor while he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage at the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline in the paper that might say:
OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING, FOR A SOLDIER DIED TODAY.

God and the Soldier, we adore,
In time of danger, not before.
The danger passed and all things righted,
God is forgotten and the Soldier slighted.

Author Unknown

He went where others feared to go,
and did what others failed to do.
He cried, pained and hoped--
but most of all he lived times--
never to be forgotten.

If I do not sing long and loud today, then when do I?

2008-12-06T08:04:00.000-08:00

A few friends feel I am taking things a bit too personally. Yes, I do that. India and Indians have been lampooned and lambasted enough in my opinion. We are a beautiful people. If you need to know what hospitality is all about, go to a village home. Go to an Indian anywhere in the world. In an obscure town in the US , a Gujarati running a motel, made me some most welcome masala tea after the dishwater I had been forced to ingest and fed us dinner. He did not charge a penny and told me that I was at my brother’s place. Look at the face of hospitality our Taj staff offered their guests when under attack…staying put when they could have fled, guiding and calming them and acting like human shields! A waiter doing this as part of his duty? I will look at a waiter with new eyes from now.

If you want to see bravery, meet the average Indian. The Bapi Sen who gives up his life saving an ordinary woman from hoodlums, the men who jump in raging rivers to save complete strangers from drowning, even my father who refuses to pay even the smallest of bribes (the chai-pani) and will run endlessly to get the smallest job done for months and dare you suggest that he simply pay that dratted bribe and be done with all the rigmarole …they are the simple ordinary folk who want to make a difference. One of our constables threw a chair at the terrorist firing with an AK-47…a chair!! It is like me standing at the border and spitting at the enemy…that futile but isn’t it simply a marvelous gesture.? Especially since the constable admits his legs were quaking!

You want to see courage under fire then you need to meet an Army jawan. He is one of the most ill-equipped, most disadvantaged pawn who goes in to fight losing battles, thanks to policies made by people who might collapse if they had to spend a night in a bunker at a remote post, and he still turns the tide. He wins the war. He certainly does not do it for money or recognition…he is just a pawn and will be just as easily be sacrificed.

You want to see tolerance then see us. We not only accept all our diversities, we tolerate such conditions of living which would make the inmates of Hell rebel. 48 hr power shortages, 10 hour power cuts daily, roads that would make a camel throw up, traffic jams that stretch endlessly during office hours and make us hit the road an hour early simply to escape the worst of it…and the poverty that we tolerate…deaths due to starvation in a world that staples it’s stomach to stop eating!

And I am taking it too personally…I think we all should! We make one of the world’s most beautiful people such underdogs that my very body organs are rebelling. What do you feel when you see an animal beaten to death, a small child being hit, a man standing up to twenty and being killed? Multiply it a thousandfold and that is my feeling. I know that I might achieve the very pinnacle of success personally but it means nothing if my countrymen are being bombed on a daily basis. Personal growth and development is nothing if we stand where we are today….if God himself told me that I could be a Lakshminarayan Mittal today if I just turned a blind eye to all the horror, I would refuse.

Life does go on…take away all four limbs and the eyes and cut off the ears and the nose and the tongue and life would go on. Is that what life is all about…mere tenacity? A stubborn hanging on to the breath in our body? Or is it achieving what our Maker had in mind when He made us in his image?

Why I write is because every army has a band it marches to. I am in the band. I believe the glory of my country and I am not afraid to sing it out aloud. It is a song I heard as a child and it reverberates in me. If the song dies, I die. And if I do not sing long and loud today, then when do I?

We have to find our pride and speak up

2008-12-06T07:46:00.000-08:00

A small group of monsters sneak into the heart of India , kill and maim in the ratio 1:50, shatter our landmarks, our national pride and our morale and we are left to pick up the pieces. Unfortunately the politicians again are protected by their Master, Satan, and are spared. What are we going to do? Many of us burn with indignation and fear and helplessness. This time, we are confronted with our mortality and realize that but for the grace of God, the face of the dead could have been us and our dear ones.

Welcome to global terrorism…this is what lies in our future, unexpected attacks where we are easy pickings in front of a trained, bloodthirsty predator. Guts ripped apart and no place to hide! Only a whirlwind of fear and pain and destruction at the end! We are people who just do not fight…when the kaccha-baniyain gangs bludgeon entire families to death we are only too grateful that we are not the ones to be murdered as we lay asleep, when young women get acid thrown on their faces to make them lead lives similar to lepers in the medieval times, we pay no heed, exact no retribution. When women are abducted from our streets we shrug and say that it cannot be helped….what WILL make us get up and say that this is not the India of my dreams and I will do something?

Young children kidnapped from outside their homes and held to ransom has become a profession...it is not a crime anymore. I think…no one cares anymore that 4 year old Raju was picked up and tied up in a gunny bag and thrown like garbage down a sewer while his distraught parents collected the money for his release…after all we do not know Raju and thank God! We have raised ours.

Today, we are under severe threat from Pakistan and China and our very own home grown terrorists, our politicians. And if you think I am seeing nightmares in smoke, China openly has declared that Arunachal Pradesh is theirs. Pakistan is telling us that we have no proof…NO PROOF with 500 dead and maimed!! Did Kargil not happen? What was THAT all about? What about the bodies of their dead army officers found on Indian soil killed after pitched battles?

Pakistan speaks of collaboration and joint inquiry…collaboration in raising terrorist training grounds? Yes, I am ready for that and make me the first volunteer…I am willing to go and kill the innocent and damn my soul forever if that is the price I have to pay for the peace of future generations. At least I will be spared the helpless agony of watching the Kerala CM making asinine remarks which lacerate my spirit, that grinning fat face of Vilasrao who sticks his own son to his breast while mothers are bidding farewell forever to their only sons, cut down in their glorious youth; the sheer impotency of a Government that we have voted into power and which symbolizes the failure of a 100 crore strong democracy.

Take me today, Lord, in your infinite wisdom… I cannot bear to watch this circus on TV anymore with the media hounding our leaders for some bit of accountability and answers while the politicians dance to the tune of some madman only they hear, sidestepping grave issues with the nonchalance of either born idiots or worse still, a callous and heartless lot who only hear the jingle of money and respond only to the lure of the ‘kursi’! Naqvi can see blood staining mouths red of the the scores dead and is appalled by the living??

Has the world ceased making sense or am I the madman! I am in a way relieved after the carnage…we all saw how major a threat lies like a deep, black abyss before us…and shutting our eyes will not prevent us from falling in that void. Didn’t we sit up and take note that the terrorists brought war in our midst, holed up inside our very homes and threw out a challenge, “who will dare stop us?” They actually thought that they would invade our heartland, kill as many as they could and then return back! That is really scary…they think we are this soft, this easy to take down!!

Where were our politicians…I saw no one even pretending to don a bulletproof vest to take an initial survey…when bullets fly, patriotism is easy to spot! And in rolled our men in OG…the ones who have seldom taken the spotlight..who live and die for us in barren spots with no witnesses that can testify to the sheer poetic bravery of their last moments. Young idealistic men who really see only the nation and their colleagues when death comes calling…even terrorists call out for mercy at the end….the soldier dies believing that he stands for truth and honour and duty. And we refuse to give them their due!

If we did we would tear that aged jackass of a CM limb to limb when he spat on the family of a soldier felled in battle! A nation that does not honour its defenders will itself be forgotten…so goes a saying. A nation that does not honour itself deserves to perish! And India lies forgotten. The world does not care…tomorrow they can blow up any city here and kill a few thousands, the world will cluck its tongue and move on. After all we ARE a third world country, brown to top it all! We look to them for approval in internal matters…yes, terrorism is a deeply personal matter!

Did we object when after 9/11, Americans made us stand in our underwear for “security checks”…they made the world and its mother strip, take off footwear, unwind turbans, take off the burqua…did we hear any complaints? No, we praise them for their strength! We know that if we want to enter the States, we have to obey their rules. It all boils down to pride in the end.

We have to find our pride and speak up. Do anything, however small. Whatever we think will mark a beginning…nothing is ridiculous, nothing is too small. The day you and I begin to think that we are just a tiny cog in this giant machinery and do not count, that is the day we have taken a bullet in our heart and may as well lie dead!

Open Letter to Mr Unnikrishnan

2008-12-06T07:36:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. Unnikrishnan,

You do not know me but I owe you a great debt. It sits on my shoulder like the body of a much loved brother, it shrouds my heart and casts a pall on all that I do….I know not how to repay you and that is my biggest agony. I see you as you speak to the media without a quaver in your voice, I see your wife with a broken heart and I am lashed with a pain that has no voice. Your son died saving my son and it weighs me down…speak to me and ask for something in return…I will give you my blood and the very marrow from my bone! Forgive me as I am the cause of your brilliant son fading…I did not see the enemy neither did I recognize it and when it attacked me with the ferocity of a thousand lions, I could only run and try to hide. I left the battle to your son and he has gone to the soldier’s paradise. He has done his duty and asked for nothing and I am cursed.

I am cursed as I lie at night wrestling with sleep as images of the dead and dying call out to me. I am cursed when I see the beautiful face of your son. I am cursed when I look at the face of grief that is your wife. I look at my sleeping son lying safe in his bed and I am overwhelmed. I cannot begin to imagine what courage it takes you to get up in the morning and face another day.

If it gives you any small iota of relief, let me tell you that it is the sacrifice of soldiers like your son which make me hold up my head high. It ignites a feeling of great self esteem and it is what makes me hopeful. If we have men like your son still left in India , then we will come into our own. These men show me a bright, shining vision of the future and make me a believer. Our fat, ugly, disillusioned sorry caricatures who are our politicians who suck out hope and glory and tarnish all that is good in our world fail in their task of destroying our faith. Men like Major Sandeep who live by their ideals unflinchingly are our saviours. We see them and recognize in them a pure spirit burning bright. They are our beacons…they shine forth like our star of hope and we can weather all storms.

Mr. Unnikrishnan, you are the exceedingly brave father of a lion among men. In your grief, know this that all Indians have seen him and his faith and his love for our country…in his death he has become immortal.

Death will come to us all. It will carry us away leaving only our loved ones sorrowful…your son’s funeral has made a whole nation grief-stricken. It has made all Indians say a prayer for him and his family. It has made us sit up and has lit a fire under us. He single-handedly silenced Mr. Raj Thackeray with his deed. This sorry politician’s career is over before it began…the so-called leader of the Marathi hides his face at home when a soldier rams home his point in so direct a fashion. Raj Thackeray was cowering beneath his bed when “his” Mumbai was burning and the men in uniform fought and gave up their lives for an India they unite and protect. No talk, no rhetoric just a heroic fight to the finish!

Mr. Unnikrishnan, if we have more men like your son then India WILL become a superpower.

I salute you and your family.

God bless you all.
An indebted Indian.

This is the India of my dreams

2008-12-06T07:25:00.000-08:00

As I sit here chained to my computer, unable to resume my ordinary life, feeling like Cassandra singing dirges…Cassandra had the gift of seeing the future and the accompanying curse that she would not be believed…I have had time to sit and ponder! Remember the inevitable essay we had to write in school about Mere Sapon Ka Bharat? Well, here is the essence of that dreary theme that all of a sudden gains supreme importance….

I want an India governed by leaders who have had military training.

I want the leaders in power to have a son, daughter, brother ,uncle who have served or are serving in our Armed Forces.

I want monthly expenditures of all politicians published…and if a Sheila Dixit owns up she does not have a personal car, woe betide if her son is caught using a “gifted Merc”!

I want all properties of Dawood Ibrahim to be given to the police or our Armed Forces….let them build their homes there if the Govt. is too afraid of the consequences of taking that murderous hood on! Hell, give them to me, the ordinary Indian.

I want each politician to travel like a public servant…no road blockages and whining sirens. After all why should we not share the pleasure of our potholed roads that take hours to traverse with our esteemed policy makers?

We will lynch the next bastard who stands up as a political candidate and who has a criminal record a mile long!

We will lynch the bastards who come in open jeeps and capture booths….let all polling booths be monitored by the Army.

All property, money which the politicians cannot account for will be used to purchase modern, sophisticated weaponry.

All decisions made by the Govt will be open to the media…let us see what goes behind the scenes. And the ones deemed too sensitive, can be viewed by a select intelligentsia we trust…respected industrialists and upright members from our community.

Our leaders have to be accountable. I refuse to slog and pay taxes that takes Mr. Patil’s son abroad 6 times a year.

And when money is allotted for medicine or grain to the really, really poor and it does not reach them, lynch the man responsible.

If a new flyover collapses on passersby, lynch the contractor.

If a man asks for a bribe to do his job, fire him on the spot and see to it that he never gets another one and has the only option of working for Sulabh Sauchalaya as a menial.

And if a politician uses a few lakhs to put up his own statue, let him carry it with him wherever he goes! All the time. That will cure all the megalomania.

The next bastard who talks of ‘his people’ instead of the nation should be sent to Afghanistan or Pakistan on a diplomatic posting. Then he will shortly realize who are his people.

This is the India of my dreams. Strike, people, when the iron is hot…the politicians are running to escape the heat. We can be heard now…change is on the cards. Hit them before their recover their brazen shamelessness and come back like Satan’s army.

I sing because my India will prevail!

2008-12-06T07:17:00.000-08:00

My friends ask me why I do not send my mails to newspapers. I am only a songbird and I sing in my agony…if I could be more, I would be a soldier. If I could be more, I would be a patriotic politician. Since I am not, I will just sing my songs since I seem to do this best…I do not care about the size of my audience, it lessens my pain!

I sing to my countrymen of an India in peril.

I sing about the unsung bravery of our defence personnel.

I sing to warn us of a looming disaster we have seen yet fail to recognize.

I sing that a terrorist deserves nothing more than he offers.

I sing for a march against all enemies of India …whether they come from foreign lands or from within.

I sing that we all realize that we are Indians and we rise and fall together.

I sing that the bullet is blind and the bomb does not care…we can be Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Farsi, Parsi, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker for all it cares.

I sing that a dead Indian has no price tag…he is irreplaceable.

I sing about the terror we all experience and endure yet do nothing to curb.

I sing because I have no place to go and we have no place left to hide.

I sing because my house burns and my heart burns and I find only apathy and helplessness around me.

I sing too because there might be a glimmer of hope.

I sing because we might have been pushed too far.

I sing because the Indian might get up and dust himself off and ram the enemy head on.

I sing because there might be something stirring inside a slumbering India .

I sing because this foolish bird has pride in her breast and a great blooming hope.

And I sing because my India will prevail…there are too many of us for it to do otherwise!

I have had enough, I can not see one more dead, I am ready for change

2008-12-06T07:06:00.000-08:00

I thank some of my friends who mailed me back and shared their thoughts with me. I have written these impassioned words as I am filled with disquiet and foreboding. I refuse to speak diplomatically....diplomacy has no place when one's countrymen lie with limbs torn asunder in their own homes!

I am a Forces person, I have seen the Armed Forces from within...we have seen this coming. We are a nation who do not remember nor respect our defenders and heroes. We pay compensation for valour and following one's dharma! What price do you place on a jawan who dies on our border, defending us, unsung and forgotten with an entire family dependant upon him? What price a fauji who knows that he is ill-equipped and fighting a battle with his hands tied behind his back yet who forges forward shouting "Veer Bhogya Vasundhara"! What price a DTC driver who drives his passengers to safety and goes blind trying to dispose of the parcel bomb safely? What price a constable who chases armed goons with only a lathi? We then dispose of such sterling men thinking they merely did their duty. If doing our duty was this easy, we would not be in this fix today.

We can run only so far. Sooner or later we will have to stop and fight. Let us not be the Pandavas, righteous yet weak, running away from our cousins, refusing to stand up when we are first struck, hiding behind false notions of 'dharma' and compassion! We have run away from Pakistan over and over again. Pakistan is no bogeyman...it is our deepest and darkest enemy and what it is doing to us follows the principles of war...we do not see them coming, they use deception, darkness and terror, they spread maximum violence with minimum means. And they use the media, home and abroad to yell how India troubles them. This is war! Even if they write us a letter headed "WE ARE COMING TO KILL YOU AND YOUR FAMILIES AS YOU IDIOTS LIE THERE SLEEPING", we will still ask for proof and ask "Is it really them or are they being used as scapegoats"?

Please go to our borders for a day and see for yourselves. I beseech you to judge for yourselves...and take your kids along. Ask your Army friends for this favour...have your eyes opened...WE HAVE BEEN AT WAR WITH PAKISTAN FOR YEARS...it is a secret war where stupid Indians, who are the most image conscious hypocrites alive, tie their hands behind their backs in some dumb reasoning and take on the merciless Pakis who gouge out eyes of our patrol parties, who capture our fishermen in our own waters, who penetrate our borders and recruit our misguided youth under our very noses.

Go to Jammu where there is a war raging on...they will shoot you as you walk under the Chinar trees, smelling a rose....it is our land yet we are the enemy. Why do we need more proof? Why does your heart not burn? Why can you sleep? Why do the cries of our ambushed not reach our ears? Why do we shrug our shoulders and say "God's will"? Why do we content ourselves with 'Kya kare"?

Let us start a movement and do something. Let us not have to choose between political candidates where one has 20 cases against him and the other is simply a murderer. Let us get some honest guys on board...We can do it...we did it for Jessica Lal...we did it for Priyadarshini Mattoo...we can do so for ourselves. Our thoughts shape our actions and actions define reality! let us make it real, people!

I have had enough...I can not see one more dead...I am ready for change.

This time around, let us fight for peace!

2008-12-06T06:53:00.000-08:00

See, what I've been yelling from the rooftops is slowly being proved…that these were no ordinary run of the mill terrorist attacks. Now they are talking of "mother ships" and satellite phones and rocket launchers and definite links to Pakistan . I can see the future and I am terrified. The Pakistanis have come to our door to fight and we are unprepared! Wake up people and smell the coffee. They will attack schools next…do we want to hold our dead futures in our arms before we decide we will make a stand!

Even the media is taking strength from the presence of the Indian Army in our midst. And we say 'all will be well' when we see them go in to fight for us. Let us acknowledge our Armed Forces and give them what has been long overdue….honour and our trust. And some moolah too! They take bullets in our stead, they keep you and yours safe. They stand between us and anarchy…

And make the politicians accountable, for God's sake. These pigs have gone too far. They release ferocious terrorists from prison for ONE politician's daughter, they shell out a pittance for our safe-keepers, they divide us over ridiculous issues…Mr. Raj Thackeray, in those OG trucks are men from all over India , those from North India and South India , who come under one banner, our tricolour. Do you have the guts to send them away from "your" Mumbai which is burning fiercely, can you defend your Maharastra? The enemy is knocking on your door and I do not see the "lion of Mumbai" around! All I see is the olive green uniform.

I am burning too from indignation and a sense of loss. I mourn the blameless dead and the wounded. I mourn the fiercely burning Taj …it is a symbol of Indian pride going up in flames. I am ashamed that the world's biggest democracy and the most populous country, the awakening economic superpower is this vulnerable. I want the Indian Tiger to get up and roar so that the world listens!!

This time around, let us not forget! This time around let the dead be avenged!

This time around, let us not endure! This time around let us fight for peace!

I have a dream for my India

2008-12-06T06:24:00.000-08:00

Am writing about something very personal and close to my heart. We all have heard and seen the news and it has saddened us all. It has outraged me as it is no longer a terrorist attack but war. Pakistan has brought the war into our homes and we are still talking about a Hindu-Muslim divide. I believe we are standing on the brink of devastation with blind politicians and an illiterate populace which will see what is shown....we need to see the writing on the wall. Pakistan is at war with us. And we do not seem to realise the gravity of the situation. We send out our police to deal with a highly trained and brainwashed enemy...the three top cops just walked into bullets because they thought they were dealing with ordinary terrorists. Our lathi wielding, overweight police are no match. A case of letting the fox among chickens! What can the chickens do other than flutter and die amidst a lot of clucking!

Only our Armed Forces stand between us and disaster. And they are a taken for granted, ill equipped, demoralised lot. Perhaps they question their importance too. But I know that what saves me and mine is that 24 yr old boy from Haryana who is more afraid of being laughed at than he is of catching a bullet, the tall lad from Punjab who will do what his saab tells him, the diminutive Gorham who is bravery personified and their young idealistic officers who lead from the front. Why I say idealistic is that the Army offers nothing other than honour and duty...and the ones who respond to the call are the true patriots. There was a time we held patriots dear and acknowledged our debt to them...now idealism is another name for foolishness.

I remember the Kargil war and the unbelievable acts of bravery and raw courage it threw up....who can forget Capt. Batra's laughing bearded face and that immortal line "YEH DIL MANGE MORE!" And a 19 yr old Yogendra Singh Yadav with 3 bullets in him, climbing up a grueling 60 feet to reach and neutralize an enemy bunker and engage in combat…our only living PVC, Capt Vijayant Thapar whose farewell letter should be read by us aloud to our kids.... "I have no regrets...if I become a human again, I will again join the Army and fight for my nation....if you can, please come and see where the Army fought for your tomorrow....never forget the sacrifice of these men...Papa, you should feel proud....Live Life King Size!" He was all of 22. Capt Anuj Nayyar, whose heroism fuelled a movie and numerous TV serials…, this roll call of honour goes on and on. And it still brings forth tears from me…tears of pride and sorrow and personal loss. And a feeling that we cannot take these sacrifices for granted anymore. The least we can do is learn from them…our enemy has a face…it is not Muslim…it is Pakistan! Pakistanis do not see you and me as Hindu, Christian, Sikh, doctor, engineer, poet…we are their faceless enemy and to destroy us is the only game plan. Why can't we see what they have made so plain?

I will go and donate blood and I will be vigilant in public places. I vow to take note of abandoned stuff and report it…and I will sit up all night when I see my country under attack and hold my head in my hands when I see the dead, the dying and the injured…is it enough?

We should take a leaf out of Israel’s book…I am no politician nor am I interested in political correctness..What I see is that the world fried and baked and grilled the Jews…millions of them and NO ONE spoke up…no one saw anything! While smoke was billowing from the crematoriums and the stench of human flesh was all pervading, no one saw or heard or smelt anything…they were the unseen dead. So they decided that they had to take care of themselves and that history would never repeat itself for them again. How many of us will have to be dismembered, to die anonymously in battle without knowing that they were the enemy….how much more will we take…how much is enough…is a 100 dead and 200 injured less…tomorrow when the tally is 500 dead and 1000 injured, is it enough? When do we get up and say that one dead Indian is one too many! How many more of these endless, bloody harvests do we have to witness and endure?

There are mails which proudly declare that India has never invaded any country in her entire history…when will we circulate mails stating that we gouge out the eyes that look at India sideways and tear out limbs that rise against us! And when will our war-cry be "ENOUGH"…

When will we reach out for our golden future which lies just around the corner? I KNOW it does exist…I can Feel it! I can feel the throb of a mighty Indian awakening. There is so much of hope in me, I am a believer!

The question is when! When will my brethren see in each other an Indian! When will India become our motherland and not a 'developing' country one must flee from! When will our national anthem bring tears of pride in our eyes! When will a Raj Thackeray never dare verbalize his stinking politics for fear of a public lynching from his very own 'marathi manoos'! When will the politician become a patriot and a leader! When will we find ourselves!

I will end with some of my favorite martial quotes:-

Pain is temporary, pride is forever.

What doesn't kill you, strengthens you.
And its unofficial continuation…
What kills you, strengthens your mother!

Persistent defence, effective intimidation, battle we must when enemy is in sight.

Sarver Izzat o Iqbal
(Prestige and Honour Everywhere)

Balidanam veer lakshanam
Shastra se shakti.

My Israeli favorite:
In the place where the (tank) treads stop, there the border will be decided!

The hard we do today, the impossible we do tomorrow.

A personal favorite:
An army builds a nation.

No one wounds me with impunity.

He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious.

Sun Tzu, the famous Chinese General, said around 500 BC:

In peace prepare for war, in war prepare for peace. The art of war is of vital importance to the state. It is matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence under no circumstances can it be neglected.

If you know the enemy and know yourself, your victory will not stand in doubt; if you know Heaven and know Earth, you may make your victory complete.

If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.

If ignorant both of your enemy and yourself, you are certain to be in peril.

If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must fight, even though the ruler forbid it; if fighting will not result is victory, then you must not fight, even at the ruler's bidding.
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May we all find our hidden warrior
May we always stand up for what we believe in
May India always prevail.
JAI HIND, JAI HIND KI SENA!