Divided we fall!

It has been 60 years to independence and almost 5000 years to the time 'Indians' emerged as a civilization, yet some old habits refuse to die. Take for instance 'Cultural Nationalism', which is based on the notion that one culture is superior to another. Once the proponents of this notion get together, they invent all sorts of stories to substantiate their claims. Over a period of time, a 'victim mentality' develops which implies that the group of people subscribing to the culture are being victimized and biased against. Ghetto mentality kicks in. The entire world becomes the enemy. People take up arms and begin fighting for what they believe is a just cause. And before you know it, a Pakistan is born!

This is exactly what is happening in Belgaon today. A quaint and scenic Marathi dominated town in a Kannada state, Belgaon has been the bone of contention between Maharashtra and Karnataka since the re-organization of states along linguistic lines took place. Time and again, Maharashtra has staked its claim on Belgaon by the virtue of its Marathi majority population and time and again Karnataka has claimed Belgaon as its own, claiming cultural and historical contiguity.

In the recent Vishwa Kannada Sammelan held in Belgaon, one speaker railed against the Marathis. He described the language as an offshoot of Kannada, he described the state as a province of Karnataka, he ascribed the valor of Shivaji to the fact that a Kannada Queen had saved his life and in general he sought to describe the community as unworthy of greatness that it claims for itself.

Tomorrow, these comments would be splashed across Marathi newspapers. The likes of Shiv Sena and MNS would take to the streets. They would issue calls for Kannadigas to be thrown out. If M/s Thackreys are in good health, they would ask for volunteers to march on to Belgaon and save the Marathis from the tyranny of the Kannadas. A few hundred people would be killed, property worth a couple of lakhs would be destroyed and MNS/Shiv Sena would gain a couple of seats in the assembly. Mr. Yedyurappa on the other side of the border would ask for Kannada pride to be re-invigorated and the BJP would in all probability return to power in Karnataka.

So, what is the issue at hand? Is it merely political? I believe that unless people realize that they need to transcend the artificial borders of language, state and religion, these problems would keep cropping up. Marathi may be an offshoot of Kannada. Kannada would have been influenced by Sanskrit. But then isn't that true for most languages? Isn't it obvious that of the lakhs of words that make up the Marathi language, a few thousands would have their origins in Kannada, juts as a few thousand words in Kannada would have been
derived from Tamil? Isn't it a matter of pride for both the Kannadas and the Marathis that a Kannada queen saved the life of Shivaji who ended up being an 'Indian' hero by ridding the subcontinent of the Mughals?

The borders that divide the nation into states are mere administrative formalities. India continues to be a melting pot just as it has been throughout its history. We've welcomed everyone from the Greeks to the Persians to the Arabs to the Turks to the Europeans with a smile and arms wide open. Let us not bicker over non-issues and create rifts that would seal the fate of this great civilization.


Forget not what Iqbal had to say on the greatness of this civilization

'यूनान-ओ-मिस्र-ओ-रोमा सब मिट गए जहाँ से
अब तक मगर है बाक़ी नाम-ओ-निशान हमारा '

It is time to down a Kolhapuri mirch with Mysore Pak!

Jai Hind!

Letting Go!

The political upheavals from Tunisia to Yemen, from Oman to Morocco and Bahrain to Libya have proved only one thing. As tenacious as their hold may be, one day, a dictator has to call it quits. One way to leave is to be tossed into the trash bin of history and to be stomped and spat upon by one's own kith and kin. The other, more difficult but infinitely more righteous way is to realize when the game is up and call it quits. Do you think anyone would now care how great Hosni Mubarak was, or how prosperous President Ben Ali made Tunisia? All that history books would call them is by the word 'Dictator' which is as good as the worst abuse that can be heaped on a person in a democratic set up.

25 years ago, one man realized that his time was up. He realized that the system he was standing up for, the values that it represented were not what the masses wanted. He felt their needs as his own and became a crusader against the ills in the system which had propped him up as the leader. Mikhail Gorbachev infused what he though was the breath of life in a system which was old, rotten and decaying. His policy of glasnost had even the most die-hard reformers wondering at what game was Kremlin playing. But Gorbachev chose to be sincere. He chose to support the right. He foresaw the inevitability of change and most importantly he realized that if people wanted change the system could not stifle it! The implosion of the Soviet Union could have been bloody, it could have been messy, it could have caused wars, hardship and misery for millions, yet, at the end, it was a mere administrative change. On the night of 25th December 1991, the Soviet flag came down and the Russian one was hoisted in its place atop the Kremlin.

Col. Gaddafi can choose to take a leaf out of China's book. He can choose to do a Tiananman on the Libyans. He can choose to unleash the power of his state on the millions of protesters in Tripoli, Benghazi and hundreds of towns and cities in Libya. He might even succeed in silencing some protesters. But a dictator should realize that once a steady boat is rocked, chances are that it would be rocked again and again! Libya may continue to be Gaddafi's Libya for another 15 days, even 15 months, but eventually, he will have to pave the way for change. It would be Gaddafi's choice whether to be the architect of that change or to be one dead body trampled beneath the change that would sweep old Libya away!

To all dictators, wherever they be, forget not what Comrade Trotsky, who helped set up the World's largest dictatorship…

'You are pitiful, isolated individuals! You are bankrupts. Your role is played out. Go where you belong from now on—into the dustbin of history!'

People Power

People power is back. And it is rocking the steady boat of one of the most time tested regimes of our times. By the look of it, Mr. Hosni Mubarak's day of judgment has dawned and the masses are baying for his blood. Almost 30 years ago, similar scenes were witnessed in another part of the Islamic world. Agitating Iranians, young and old, forced the Shah to flee and put a full stop to 2500 uninterrupted years of Persian Monarchy, installing in its place, a rabidly religious regime that has contributed in its own way in making the world a difficult place to live.

So, will Egypt go the Iran way? It looks unlikely for now. But if you begin to draw comparisons between Iran in 1979 and Egypt in 2011, resemblance is uncanny. Replace El Baradei, the liberal, internationally acclaimed IAEA chairman who has become the unofficial (but not universal) representative of the Egyptian protestors with Mehdi Bazargan, the last liberal Prime Minister of Iran, before he was elbowed out by the Ayatollah. Replace the turbaned shiite clerics of Iran led by Ayatollah Khomeini with the Muslim Brotherhood, which has emerged as the only organized body capable of controlling and directing the protesters.

Iran was a thoroughly westernized modern dictatorship, not unlike Egypt today, with a dark underbelly. While hundreds of Iranians lived their lives as modern western individuals, millions continued to cling to the Islamic principles which defined them. Hundreds in Iran, close to the Shah benefitted from his reforms and programs while millions continued to grumble and abuse the Shah. In Egypt, too, a tiny clique close to the Mubaraks continues to use and abuse powers, while millions of unemployed and frustrated youth continue to pelt stones and chant 'Death to Mubarak' slogans.

The loss of Iran to the Mullahs was a big setback to the West. I don't think the West has, till date, been able to recover from that shock. The loss of Egypt to the Muslim Brotherhood will complete the defeat of Western ideals and principles in the Near East. The strategic nature of Egypt can be understood by the fact that Egypt is the only country in the Arab World to have official diplomatic relations with Israel and the only country with which Israel has a treaty of any sort. The Camp David Accords in 1978 were the first step to establishing long lasting peace in the region, the loss of Egypt to the Muslim Brotherhood will be the first nail in the coffin of Israel and the West.

Tunisia threw out Zine el Abedine. Yemen is on its way to banish Mr. Saleh. And even as I write, it seems that ordinary Egyptians have finally won. Mubarak, it seems has quit the presidency and handed over power to the army. The US, it seems has learnt from the past. It chose to support democracy over its own narrow interests. It remains to be seen, if this would reap handsome dividends.

People Power has won once again. Whether Egypt would go the Iran way is still a wait and watch game.

Reminiscing again!

Like an old man with greying hair (both true in my case), I return to reminiscing about the times gone by. This one is the Foodie's guide to 2 years spent in Pune!

Here we go-

1. Aundh. Pizza Hut. Paneer el Rancho & Masala lemonade.

2. Aundh. Idlicious. Awesome South Indian food at affordable rates. Speciality-Gun Powder

3. Hinjewadi. Oos ka Joos (Sugarcane Juice). Served fresh and extremely refreshing!

4. MG Road. Food Walk (or was it plaza!). Finger licking food prepared by Puneri Aunties who'd set up food stalls.

5. I2IT. Paneer Paranthas. The best Paneer Paranthas in town. Served hot in your hostel room!

6. MG Road. Dorabjee's. For the most eclectic collection of Churans/Golis/Phataphat/Candies

7. DP Road. Brugge-La chocolaterie. For the perfect collection of chocolates. Served in extremely fancy wrapping.

8. Hinjewadi. Sweety ke pas wala chatwala. For the rotten chat that I ate daily (and asked for more)

9. FC Road. Chaitanya. The best collection of piranhas in town (except Paneer Parantha (refer above)). Also recommended- Lassi

10. FC Road. Rupali/Vaishali/Rudali/Krupali/whatever. Good simple, yet expensive food.

A sense of nationality

When the first Jews started pouring into the Arab Palestinian state in the late 19th and the early 20th centuries, they would have felt a sense of self accomplishment. After all, they were returning to the land of their forefathers several centuries after they were so brutally expelled. They would have felt a sense of exhilaration as they were fulfilling messianic prophecies that mandated the return of the Jews to the land which God had given to them. And most of all, they would have felt a sense of relief to have escaped the clutches of death and anti-Semitism which had brought their lives in Europe to a physical and psychological ruin. 

If they expected to find peace and tranquility in Palestine, they were sorely disappointed. The old gentile fiend was replaced by the Arab. The tiny Jewish minority had to put up with hostility with their more numerous Arab neighbors who, though belatedly, realized the territorial ambitions of the Jews. Zionism as a political concept became clearer, it merged the religious prophecies with the modern secular national outlook and created a deadly political force which appealed to Jews both young and old, fleeing Europe following the Holocaust. By 1948, with the British colonial power on the way out, the Jews and the Arabs found themselves on opposite sides and both sides realized that it was a battle for survival. For the Jews, the loss against the foe would forever extinguish their dreams of having a homeland of their own. For the Arabs, there would be forced displacement and a certain and damning loss of prestige.

As history would have it, the better equipped and disciplined Jews got the better of the Arabs, not once, but at least thrice, thereby securing the state of Israel as proclaimed by David Ben Gurion in 1948. The state of Israel lives on till this day and dispels old stereotypes that were applied to the Jews. The 'Wandering Jew' became the 'settled Jew' with his own homeland. The 'Jewish guilt' was replaced by the 'Jewish pride', his 'pusillanimity' replaced by a frighteningly strong sense of 'bravado' , but the stereotype of the 'scheming Jew' remains. Many amongst us allege that the Jews have conspired with the US and the guilt ridden European nations to deny the just demands of the Arabs.

Many Israeli citizens born in Israel, unlike their parents and grand parents are horrified to see what has become of their state. The long for peace and harmony which has eluded them so far. They long for acknowledgment and respect from their neighbors, but are met with barrels of guns and grenades. They want peaceful co-existence but are surrounded by a hostile opinion that treats them as the last Western Colonial Outpost in Asia. 

The Arabs would have mixed opinions on the Jews, but all Arabs despise Israel. Liberal democracies from India to Indonesia express their shock at the way the Israeli forces treat their enemies, although this has become rarer with the growth of the Israeli clout in international affairs. The phrase 'Hindu-Jewish nexus' is a testimony to the fears of the predominantly muslim Arabs, who draw comparisons between the treatment of Palestinians in Israel and Kashmiris in India.

The question that was raised by intellectuals in late 19th century still remains- Who is a Jew? Though it has been severely complicated  by the question- Who is an Israeli?. 

Given that Israel is the embodiment of 'Jewdom' today, What should be the status of the millions of Palestinians who were driven off their lands by militant Zionists? What of those Arabs who are  Israeli citizens but feel no sympathy to that state. And what of the substantial Jewish minorities in Iran and other Middle Eastern states.

What would be their sense of nationality?

All in a day!

I know that God loves to have fun at the expense of us miserable and wretched creatures, but then sometimes, I think, God just goes tooooo far....

Consider this for example... As a part of the Entertainment Committee in the Peninsular Park, Munger, It is my job to send out mailers and organize parties etc. etc. There is this fellow in the IT department in the factory... very quiet, very reserved, Goodie boy types who has just gotten married and will be arriving in the Park tomorrow with his wife. As is the tradition, the newly-weds get to go on a Tractor/Jeep/Buggy ride around the park and get a party thrown in their name at the Park Club...

The task at hand was pretty simple... All I needed to do was to send out a mailer informing people that the ride would commence at whatever time from whatever place... That hardly sounds something where someone can make a mistake, doesn't it? Well... there exist those, on the face of this planet, who are so talented that they make blunders where the possibility for none exist!... In order to lessen my workload (where there was actually hardly any!), I decided to simply forward the last similar mail and change the names wherever change was needed....

Only it turns out, I didn't! I changed the name of the wife in the new mail, but the name of the old husband remained... and I marked the mail to what was pretty much the entire world!!!!

And thus was unleashed a flood of comments and remarks that have rendered me incapable of doing anything productive on this day... Mostly because I am laughing so hard at what is evidently the Faux-Pas of the year!!!

Just to put things in perspective, I had, 15 minutes before I sent out that fated mail, lectured the secretaries in the HR deptt, about the need to ensure that nothing wrong should ever leave our tables and that we must ensure that our work is perfect...One of the secretaries didn't even wait a minute before passing me by and smirking... Look who was talking!

And I bet, God in the heavens high above was chortling into his cup of nectar!!!

Oh, What a day!!!

Of Macs!

Almost six months ago, when I purchased my macbook, I became a part of a very exclusive and very elite clique of people in Peninsular Park, who owned an Apple Laptop. How I loved to show it around, only I know... I wouldn't ridicule the laptops/dabbas of other people because of my 'empathic' attitude, but whenever their computers 'hanged', I would struggle to suppress my chuckle...

Oh, those were the days!!! I would, without it being very obvious to others, ensure that only my fingers caressed my mac... I would clean it with aftershave every other day and then wipe it for 10 mins, till the glowing white became a glistening 'Colgate White'... I would show off the coolest apps on Mac, including iphoto, which can distort photos and make them funny... imovie, which is super awesome for editing movies and Keynote, which is like MS powerpoint, only 100000 times cooler to all those gathered around me, even if they got sick of it!!!

As of today, I can only stifle a painful sigh when someone asks me what laptop do I own... My purchase of Macbook has been followed by an avalanche of Apple laptop purchases inside the Peninsular Park... I am convinced that the Peninsular Park has the higher per capita ownership of Apple books in all of India... possibly, even in all small towns of the world... My Macbook has been 'outshined' by 2 Macbook pros, with their backlit keyboards and super light weight, and will soon be 'outdazzled' by an ultra thin, super cool Macbook Air...

I know my Macbook (Its called El Mac by the way!) feels jealous to see itself awed by its more expensive and high society cousins... I can feel its pain and anguish to see its former phenomenal charm being now compared to the breathtaking qualities of a Macbook pro and the astounding features of a Macbook air and it being branded as the 'Low-End Apple Laptop', but there is hardly anything I can do to console it... Twice a day, before going to office and when I return for lunch, I give it all the attention that I can (ofcourse, post-dinner time is exclusively El-Mac time!) but then there is just nothing that you can do make a Macbook feel better than a Macbook-pro/Air! Hence, this shameful and pathetic attempt at professing my love for El-Mac through this blog!!!

I LOVE YOU El Mac!!!!

The Trial of Alexei Zuganovic

"My Lords… The charges against me are trumped up… I am innocent… Long Live the revolution… Hail the motherland!"… These words had a magical effect inside the courtroom, now packed to its fullest… The trial of Alexei Zuganovic was billed as the trial of the century… Co-revolutionary cum founding father of the people's state turned traitor… Alexei's journey had seen him rise to the post of the Chairman of the people's party and tumble to a solitary dank cell in the heart of Moscow… The public bayed for the blood of the man who had betrayed the Motherland to her enemies… 

Few expected Alexei to contest the charges… The prosecution was sure that 3 days of non-stop torture, including sleeplessness would 'persuade' him to own up to his crimes, so his denial in the courtroom came as a nasty shock to them… The judges were equally surprised… They had been told that all they had to do was to accept his admission of guilt and announce a death sentence… They were not sure of what they were supposed to do now… The gasp that had sounded out following Alexei's denial had now been replaced by a constant murmuring in the packed courthouse… There were foreign journalists furiously scribbling down what they believed was the scoop of the day and then there were severe looking Policemen who looked revolted at the thought of having to dirty their hands on this hoodlum again tonight…

Alexei, in the meanwhile, re-commenced with his denial, praising the glorious revolution, applauding the public, proclaiming his undying and sincerest loyalty to the state, the Party and the Great leader… His words seemed to be having an impact on the crowd that had assembled… Some people had begun to doubt the charges that had been levied against him… The dour looking Prosecution Attorney now approached the bench… He demanded that the court be adjourned for the day… The Judges acquiesced….

Alexei's thoughts had taken him back in time… He remembered the day when he had stood with the Great Leader in the centre of Moscow, where the two had jointly declared the revolution to be a dazzling success… The King had fled and the government now belonged to the toiling masses, the Great Leader had said.. Alexei had tears in his eyes… The Party had then sent him to the front to lead the war against the marauding armies of the enemy… He remembered his first battle, where he saw miles upon miles of dead bodies… How the sight had revolted him… He personally persuaded the Great Leader to call for an end to hostilities… He remembered the rousing welcome given to him by Muscovites when he had returned after signing the peace deal… The Party and the Great Leader had showered heaps of praises upon him… And that is when things started changing… Some of his over-enthusiastic supporters started styling him as the one to succeed the Great Leader… They said that the Great Leader was now old and that he should pave the way for a younger successor, and who would be a better successor than the hero Alexei… Word got around… Plots began to be hatched… On 13th Nov, 7 years after the revolution, there was an attempt on the Great Leader's life as he was addressing a rally in Alexei's hometown… Suspicions became doubts… Doubts became certainties… The Great Leader demanded Alexei's head… Alexei resigned… He went on a self-imposed exile to the Far East… His detractors said he was hatching a plot against the Party… Some even said that he was planning to split the Motherland… They said he was hands-in-glove with the imperialists, the capitalists and the bloody West…

 One fine February morning, when it was cold enough to wear a coat and warm enough to be outside, 3 strangers came to meet Alexei… They said their Hellos and then one of them punched Alexei in the gut… It was a bloody punch… Alexei tasted blood in his mouth… and before he could react, he passed out… When Alexei awoke, he found himself closeted in what seemed like a Train Wagon… For 3 days, he was held captive in the wagon… No food…No water… He yelled and shouted demanding an explanation but eventually ran out of energy… Then, one day, the train stopped and someone opened the door of the wagon… The whiff of the air told Alexei that he was back in Moscow… His heart sank… He knew that this could mean only one thing… His fate had been sealed… He tried to fight off the guards who had come to take him away, but he had no energy left in him… 

In the heart of Moscow lies the Lubyanka Prison… It is exclusively reserved for Political Prisoners… Locals who stay in the area claim that they can hear cries and shrieks through the night… They do not exaggerate… Lubyanka is where Political Prisoners are either reformed or dispatched from this world… Alexei knew what Lubyanka was better than anyone else… He was the Mastermind behind the Government's reform program to convert the ex-imperialists to the new system… Alexei had personally supervised many of the tortures… He had felt no shame, no remorse then… He was doing his duty for the motherland… Today, he found himself on the other side of the table… Although he'd tried to mentally brace himself with the techniques that he himself had used not so long ago, there was something about first smack on the face… It sent him flying off his chair… For 3 days and 3 nights, he was subjected to the torture of the worst kind… On the 3rd night, he was allowed to sleep for 2 hours… Next morning, he was presented in the Courthouse, where he'd caused an uproar…

Tonight was extra-hard for Alexei… The torturers came at him with vengeance, hitting him with whatever they could get their hands on… Wooden planks, steel rods, buckets, needles etc. etc. They were careful not to damage his face… He was to be presented in the courthouse tomorrow… Alexei begged them to let him go… He could not take the blows anymore…. But the blows never stopped… Eventually, he passed out….

The next morning, Alexei appeared in the Courtroom again… He looked haggard… The Prosecution Attorney told the court that Alexei had signed his admission of guilt and that the trial was no longer necessary… Alexei did not remember signing any piece of paper… He wanted to protest, but words failed him… With tears in his eyes, he looked around the packed courtroom for a pair of sympathetic eyes… Only, he encountered intense hatred, abhorrence and revulsion… He closed his eyes… Alexei had never prayed… But presently, he said his prayers… He begged the almighty to pardon his crimes…

Now, the Judges pronounced their verdict… It was a unanimous decision… Alexei was convicted, by his own admission, of the charge of having connived with the enemies of the State and having plotted against the People, the Party and the Great Leader… There was only one punishment for the crime… Execution by  Firing Squad…

The policemen dragged him away… He was bundled in a car and taken to a desolate spot… A kerchief was tied around his eyes… He heard the blast of the musket… That sound was the last thing he experienced in his life…

His body was dumped in an unmarked grave and was eventually covered up… No one ever came to know that Alexei Zuganovic was innocent….

Nightmares Unlimited! The Hundredth!!!!

There are these recurring nightmares that I keep having and all my attempts to get rid of them have proved futile so far... I have consulted top notch psychiatrists in Munger and all of them believe that I suffer from a psychological disorder that afflicts 9 out of 10 outsiders who settle down (I use this term loosely, a more apt description would be "are posted") in Munger. The disease is called "Mungeritis" in scientific circles and is characterized by recurrent nightmares wherein the dreamer sees himself in Munger even 30-40 years later. It is also characterized by palpitations, mood swings and anxiety when the words "Munger" and "20-30 years later" are used in the same sentence. E.g. the sentence "20-30 years later Munger will have electricity" will definitely cause heartburn to the patient as he would perceive it as meaning that he would still be in Munger 20-30 years later!

Anyways, now that the background has been set, it is time to describe a recurring nightmare that has been haunting me for the past 2-3 weeks. The nightmare usually takes the form of an interview that I am giving to a leading daily in the year 2043 in Munger itself.

                                        हमार खबरें,  दिनांक: २०/०२/२०४३, मुंगेर संस्करण 
आज हमरा पाठक लोग बहुत खुस होवी की हम मुंगेर की इतनी बड़ी हस्ती का इंटरभ्यु  प्रकासइत  करीं. मुंगेर की धरती से उपजे ई लाल और कौनो नहीं बल्कि मुंगेर वनवासी दुग्ध उत्पादन संगठन के चेयरमेन  श्री आसे मानकर रहिन. इंटरभ्यु नीचे प्रकासित है-

झुमका कुमारी (झु. कु) (इंटरभ्युभर): श्री आसे मानकर, हमार खबरें की तरफ से हम आपका स्वागत करिन.
आसे मानकर (आ. मा) : धन्यबाद
झु. कु : आप एथी अपनी इश्टोरी बतायिन हमार पाठक को
आ. मा: एथी हम तो मुंगेर सहर में २००९ में आई. टी. सी में आया था. तभी से हमें एथी भा गया था. ईहाँ  के लोग, ईहाँ की बोली, ईहाँ  की गाय, भैंस, बछड़े, सूअर और कुत्ते भी. मुंगेर का ज़मीन में जो बात है ऊ और कौनो माटी में ना होवे.
झु. कु: लेकिन चटकल (आई. टी. सी) से दूध एथी कैसन?
आ. मा: एथी, मुंगेर की हर गाय माता ४ किलो दूध देत. इस पावन धरती पर पैदा हुई हर गाय दूध की खान होवत. हम सोचीन की दूध का कारोबार मुनाफा लायीन और मुंगेर मा रोजगार भी होवी.
झु. कु: ई तो सच बात होई. तोहर एथी कितना चाचाजी?
आ. मा: हमार एथी तो एथी होवी. गुज़र बसर आराम से हो जात. इस बुढापे में और की चाहीन.
झु. कु: २००९ के मुंगेर और २०४३ के मुंगेर मा की फरक होविन चाचाजी?
आ. मा:  २००९ मा लोग गाय, भैंस रस्ते से उठावत. आज मुंगेर में भारत के अकेला गाय/भैंस माल होविन. हमार आखरी भैंस फुलवा हम वहीँ से खरीदा हूँ. २००९ मा लोग सड़क पे खड़े खड़े पिसाब करीन. आज ऊ ऊई सड़क पर बैठ कर पिसाब कर सकिन. २००९ मा एथी नहीं होविन. आज मुंगेर बिजली गाय-पाभर से बिजली बनायीं. मुंगेर देस का नाम रोसन करी
झु. कु: हमार जवान पाठको के लिए कुछ संदेस देई चाचाजी.
आ. मा:  मुंगेर के बांके नौजवानों को हम ई सलाह देना चाहिन की दिल्ली-बम्बई की लड़के-लडकियों की तरह चुम्मा-चाटी के चक्कर में ना पड़ीन. गाय हमार माता होवी और ई हम सबकी जिम्मेदारी होवी की हम गाय मा की सभा करीन. गाय की सेवा मतलब मा की सेवा, मा की सेवा मतलब मुंगेर की सेवा और मुंगेर की सेवा मतलब देस की सेवा.
झु. कु: चाचाजी, एक आखरी सवाल. तोहार गाय का फेवरिट गाना कौनो होई?
आ. मा:  हमार फेवरिट गाय "ललिया" का फेवरिट गाना होवी ____________

Which is when I usually wake up with a start... All sweaty and shivering from the scene that I have just witnessed in my sleep. The nightmares are never-ending and the emotional scars that they leave take forever to heal!

Anyways... Happy Hundredth!!!!! :)

People!

Some people are good only to push your buttons

While others can simply make you feel rotten

Then there are those who can only criticize

And those who plan to cut you down to your size!!

Lets not forget those who can only blame

And those who plot to steal your fame

Some who'll work behind your back

And ensure that you earn the flak

What about those who specialize in backstabbing

And those who indulge in rumour-mongering

Well, the worst are those who are a combination of the two

And those are the people whose company you'll always rue!

Most people exist to make your life miserable

In their absence you might have been more sociable

But thank God that at the other end

Exists a class that you call friends

Without the other extreme of the continuum

Life would have been a droll conundrum

All thanks due to the merry souls

That life is not always a terrible bore!