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

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....

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!

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!

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?

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!

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!

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

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

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!

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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!

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

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.