Symphony of Destruction

Never look at things in hindsight, we’re told. But lacking any semblance of foresight has been our administration’s biggest problem. The nation continues to analyze what has happened during the past 3 days, and criticize in equal measure. Well, any sort of criticism levelled against our “wonderful” leaders is lacking, however eloquent it may be. There is no word bad enough in the English language, or any language, in fact, to describe the sheer negligence of our Governments, past and present. As the world does, so will I, and join in the condemnation of terrorism, and pushing the blame onto the government. Fat lot of good that does, except to satisfy our minds and release the pent-up frustration. And as has been commonly observed on all those news channels, everything will be forgotten within a few days.

One of India's braves, with global cowardice as a backdrop.
Terror

Yes, we have been hearing that Mumbai will not forget this time. Yes, we have heard that Mumbai will not forgive this time. Yet, can you not hear those pleadingly sweet voices of those vultures, those politicians appealing to us in a week? Can you not hear them thrive on our misery, like leeches out to suck the blood out of us? Can you not see people rushing to these so-called leaders’ speeches, running to embrace them, and with faith in their eyes? Where were they when Mumbai was burning? Where were they when Mumbai bore the scars of yet another heinous act of terrorism? Could they not have helped in some way or the other?

All this, when some part of the fault lies with us. Of course, that is nothing compared to what THEY have done to our country. (I will only refer to our “leaders” as a non-utterable word). It is we who vote for them. It is we who give them power, to see them enjoy the money the nation has worked hard to earn. It is WE who finally provide the last piece in the puzzle of the vicious cycle, which sees India darkening, not the India Shining that we are accustomed to hear.

Why do I say we? Well, these people represent the people of our country. However much we blame them, they do represent us. All of us have something in common. We lack a Conscience. We lack That Voice, which subconsciously keeps nagging us about what’s wrong and what’s right, and makes us think twice about what we do. Lack of conscience represents serious problems in the moral fabric of the society. Be it corruption, uncleanliness, no sense of responsibility towards society, immorality, etc. all contribute to what our nation is at this point. Small things like littering, spitting and bribing officials and big things like abuse of women and children all destroy an individual’s faith in his country.

Personally, i dislike all the politics in our country, and I argue a lot with a few friends of mine who support a radical, but highly popular local political group. Now the leader supports the majority in the state, i.e Maharashtrians, and I completely support that part of the argument. Now, moving on to my friends’ argument about immigrants dirtying the place, which really angered me. Of course, they do spoil Mumbai, doubtlessly. But are we, the true residents of Mumbai helping it in any way?! No, most of the people I see, of any region whatsoever, indiscriminately act as if the whole of Mumbai belongs to them, and do not care two-hoots about how they treat the city. And yes, I do not discount Maharashtrians either of the blame.

Mumbai Burns...
Mumbai Burns...

OK, now I have drifted completely off the topic at hand. But all this is related, and forms a huge part of the crises at hand. Terrorism is not new to the world, it has been happening for the past 18 years and more, with the ascent of technology and its avaliability to the masses. Now, I am not blaming any religion, nor any country, but is it a coincidence that 75% of all terrorism originates from the Middle East? Well, people can give me instances of the LTTE and the ULFA in India, but all that is a very small part of the rise in violence throughout the world. The siege in Mumbai is just a small part of many examples throughout the years of the importance of publicity for these egoistical and highly driven beasts, who call themselves Men of God?!

This latest attack on Mumbai have shown how callous and insane these people are, and how they have no other purpose. except to cause as much harm to the world. It is not just people of other religions and nationalities that they kill, it is also people of their own religion. Innocents who might have lived on in utter happiness, who might have lived to be 100, people who wanted to live, but had their lives cruelly terminated, just to satisfy the egos of some asshole sitting comfortably in his hideout.

Mumbai has long been targeted by these jihadis as a special place to destroy, mostly because of staunch opposition by India towards the atrocious acts that they regard as a speciality, and also because of the vulnerability India shows in defending her cities. They know politicians in India are pathetic, corrupt and virtually useless, and that anything can be bought, even if the price isn’t right. Greed rules India. So these guys just walk calmly onto India soil. Sacrifice themselves for a supposed greater good. By this, I assume hell means heaven for them. And in the end, accomplish nothing except to cause grief to thousands of people all over the world. Go figure!

And again, heartfelt condolences to all the relatives of the victims(direct ot indirect) of the latest Mumbai tragedy. I hate writing these posts on a regular basis, but those fucking terrorists never stop, do they? And a proud salute to all the brave men who risked/gave up their lives to rescue those affected by the siege. They are the rare bright spots on the darkness surrounding our country. They are the ones who stand for India, not the ones who are actually supposed to represent us. Brave hearts, brave souls! Three cheers for the NSG, ATS, MARCOS, Army, Navy, RAF, Air Force and even the Mumbai police.

I’m Shipping Up To Boston!

If you ask me whether I’m influenced by Wodehouse…

I’d have to say, Yes. Though I can never reach those peaks that he scaled, nor be remotely as funny.

And if you ask me further, just as an attempt to bug me, what my favourite genre is, I’d have to say I love to write in a funny vein.

And if you ask another question, I’m just going to have to tie your hands and feet and make you listen to our Chemistry teacher drone on. Seriously.

Now, the point that I wanted to make was about my college again. The fact that I have to write about college is that blog-readership in my college is high, and the necessity to make them feel involved is uppermost on my agenda. So, I will now write about my travels, to and from college.

Well, I’m one of those people who love punctuality, so long as it’s not in the morning 😛 . The alarm is of no use in awakening me from my slumber, so I have to resort to more primitive means. That is the reason my mom tries her hand at waking me up. Of course, after I do manage to get one of them eyelids open, it is quite an effort to drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom. Having completed all formalities at home and not mistaken my handkerchief for my underwear, I tread on unwilling feet to the nearest railhead or bus depot.

My biggest decision in the morning is to decide whether I need to take a train or the bus. Now, the trains (except the Andheri local, the one single ray of hope) in Mumbai usually consist of unfavourable characters ready to bite your head off without a moment’s notice. Also, the indicator at Goregaon has been a bit of a certain Balaam’s ass for the past few months. Hence, the decision is unconditionally forced upon me. I have to enjoy the half-an-hour-of-gawking-at-decent-girls worth of a bus ride. I have come prepared with a novel and/or my trusted ‘Pod. Now, my smart friends have entrusted me with their files, thus reducing the weight on their precious arses and increasing the weight in my overburdened, and seemingly under-strength arms. With the clever reason that they live further away from college than I do. How much further is Borivali, I ask you!

Just to make you understand.
Just to make you understand.

So, when the time comes to alight from the not-so-bright-beacon of Mumbai, I get a few choice curses from fellow passengers, who view helping friends as a threat to national (and personal) security. Selfish, aren’t they?

There ends my daily routine of going to college. Now for the return journey. Which will be the next part of my 2-part ensemble. Till then!

Dancing In The Dark

Now then, mind me for sounding arrogant or proud or whatever conclusions you might jump to nowadays, but my house is pretty big by Mumbai standards. So, it takes me about 20 steps from the study to the kitchen. And 20 Shridhar Steps (TM) are pretty sizeable. It would probably take an ant-on-steroids a week to get that far, half a year without them. Okay, now that you know how supposedly-huge my house is, you can imagine how it would be in the house when darkness falls.

In The Dark

Moving on, the adjectives used above for my house apply to my maternal family too. So the good ol’ home resembles a pavement with cleaner dwellers during family events. Now, you know what it is with so many people in the house, there always is a lot of junk strewn about. Similar circs. forced me to reconsider watching even promos of horror movies. I have become infamous in my family because of a certain incident related to Jurassic Park during which I had sought humble refuge below the sofa in the pleasant exchanges between a man and a T-Rex. Now, the man waved happily at the T-Rex, and the T-Rex happily waved back with a “What-ho”, didn’t it? So amiable.

During such family visits, we have a provision for spreading loads of mattresses on the floor. After a tiring day of some-or-the-other-event, we returned home, happy but tired. As the cliche goes, most of my cousins were fast asleep before they hit the bed. Now me, I have this compulsion to wash my feet before I go to bed and also the customary pee. So, I was in two minds whether to force myself to sleep and then wet my bed or to lift my lazy arse and drag myself to the toilet.

Of course, I doubt whether you ever considered that I’d choose the first option, but I didn’t, surprisingly. I got up, arms aching and bones creaking. Now, if you’ve ever watched a horror movie or acted in one, every sound the protagonist makes is amplified a hundred times. So I looked around, petrified. And to my horror, something grabbed my leg!

The cold and clammy hand seemed pretty limp and I watched its progress from my legs to its own body. Noticing that the now-lifeless limb belonged to my cousin, I wiped the sweat off my forehead and proceeded to the loo. With trembling knees, I sat down on the toilet seat and hummed Cliffs of Dover while my excretory system got down to doing its job.

For Representational purposes only.
For Representational purposes only.

After a while, when I left the toilet, something seemed amiss. There were voices and snorts coming from the second bedroom. As the amplified-by-a-factor-of-2 voice droned on, I wondered if there was a witches’ orgy going on. By now, my fragile nervous system had given way to an unshakeable fear of my house being haunted. As in the usual movies, I went about to investigate. Listening to the voice for a while, I wondered if even witches invested in the stock market. The scary voice was cursing the day’s fall in the Sensex. That was when I realized that the imaginary witch was my uncle talking in his sleep. I nearly laughed out loud at the discovery, when something, or somebody, put a hand on my shoulder.

I nearly jumped out of my pants, but managed to calm myself enough to see that it was my dad. He’d woken up to get a glass of water. After my dad went back to bed, I wondered at the night’s events as I trudged back to the safe refuge of my bed. Even as I was a few feet away from my bed, I saw a figure loom up in front of me and I tripped and fell hard. With a curse, I scurried back to my bed and buried my head under the pillow,  and vowed never to go for a pee in the middle of the night again.

After an uneasy sleep in which I dreamt of female vampires a la Beckinsale, I got up in the morning, shaken by the previous night’s events. And can you imagine my surprise when last night’s “figure looming up” was actually a cousin’s shirt draped on the chair? 😛

P.S :- T-Rex probably bit the guy’s head off.

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