Of Terror and Mumbai: Commando Returns

Desi dogs do it Indianstyle. Outrage is fat-free, gratifying, and comes cheap at wholesale rates. An all-new season of bash-a-Moslem begins and we expect high TRPs.

Another self righteous deshbhakt whines about the politic*nts while doing a jai mata di on the brave boys in uniform.

This is no worse than we deserve, putting our faith in age and caste loyalties. We prefer the criminally senile in our nation’s highest offices. It allows us to bitch indulgently at the regular little accidents involving colostomy bags. Local sentiments are easily represented by facial hair, and the state has a Chief Moustache and a Deputy Chief Moustache parading their cheap dye-jobs in front of the TV cameras. The crowd cheers.

The equipment and training of our cops (even the AntiTerrorismSquad) is no secret and has once again been tragically highlighted. Call the cops when you want bomb scenes trampled on, or random poor Muslims Confessioned and/or Encountered.

Over two decades of assorted terror attacks across the country, and there is still is no operationally capable central crisis management team or protocols in place. There are no established lines of communication between the police, army, paramilitary, intelligence and special forces (SF). Each is suspicious of and barely capable of operating with the other, leading to further tragic one-upmanship.

The first consequence of this reinforces the charming Indian trait of arriving hours after the party has started. Read More »

Mumbai: Some Of Us Didn’t Die

But some of us did. And for those who did, it’s important that we seek a revolution in this city. In this country. Recurrent chants of “Bharat Mata ki Jai”(Long Live Mother India) are not going to procure any respite by way of pop patriotism that this country is so well renowned for. It’s time for action. Studied and structured. Action.

My beloved city was held hostage at gunpoint for almost three straight days while the f*ckwits who are supposed to lead and guide us swapped accusations, blame and vituperative nonsense. Heinous is a word that not only accurately describes what the terrorists did to us but also what the political machinery of this country has done to us. Such lack of empathy and accountability bewilders me. It enrages me. Sets my heart on fire.

News reports are teeming with obvious gaffes in the professional structure of the security and intelligence agencies of this country: the possibility of this attack was made apparent as far back as October and none paid heed to it.

People have now poured out onto the streets of Mumbai. Because we didn’t die and since we are here, we need to ensure that those who died for us aren’t forgotten. The ire and invectives will fade, but the memory of this carnage never should. What it represents and who needs to face the political guillotine is what this nation needs to decide.

I have fiddled with this thought before and I am convinced of its dynamism now – Courage is a choice. For the 30 something army Major who was an all rounder sportsman at the National Defence Academy, Pune, it was. For the decorated officers of the Mumbai Police Force Force who lead from the front, not the sidelines, it was a choice. For the almost unguarded DB Marg cops who were in possession of archaic weapons at Girgaum, but still took on the armed-to-the-teeth terrorists because it was, quite literally, about doing or dying, it was a particularly important choice.

We must chose to do something now.

Constantly displayed footage of Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan’s mother weeping inconsolably while talking to her dead son, bent over the coffin that carried his body draped in the national tricolor, is a scene I won’t forgive in a hurry. Read More »

Love on the Moon and Other Stories

Hannibal Lecter: And how do we begin to covet…we begin by coveting what we see..

Personally I find this relevant, very relevant in fact in the context of beautiful women. This time when a pretty girl passed by me, in the fleeting stupor of her lingering scent, I asked the good Lord, what I could do to be with her. Pick the stars, steal the rings of Saturn, or bring down the moon…?

“Dear Lord, the all knowing, seldom sharing, tell me, I beg of you, I have not reposed my faith in vain.”

“I think she would really like to have the moon,” I hear the Lord’s booming voice with the sound of tinkling bells in the background.

It is thus through the relevant agencies that I have dispatched Chandrayaan-I to probe the lunar surface, and send me back critical data which I would then strategically employ to woo the damsel. I shall unlock the geological mysteries of the moon, bit by bit, as the seductive powers of lunar data take complete control. Read More »

Faith and the Village Pond: The Anti-Christian Violence in Orissa

Suffering has an uncanny fondness for poverty; it seeks and locates people living on the brink of survival only to push them further towards the precipice.

In a place where reaching adulthood through a maze of abject deprivation is a miracle, getting killed for thanking the wrong God makes for extreme irony.

This week, the Kandhamal district of Orissa, India, has witnessed horrific crimes committed by right-wing Hindu extremists. Orphanages razed, nuns raped, homes destroyed and entire families hounded out of their homes and villages. The pogrom was initiated against the Christians as a revenge for the alleged murder of a prominent local Hindu figure leading the revivalist Hindu re-conversion mission.

The government, as usual, was ill equipped, unprepared, and overwhelmed by the intensity of violence and emotional upsurge. Read More »

When Hope Floats and the Light at the End of the Tunnel is Nuclear Powered

Governance in my country suffers a tragic death every moment. It is drowned, it is smothered, it is stabbed, it is genetically altered, it is poisoned with sweet candy and it is given the quietest of all burials.

Yamunprasad asked his neighbour as they trudged kilometres from waist deep water to neck deep water leaving behind their flooded huts and fields; why there is no sign of any Government help. The neighbour replied earnestly that government and the Lord cannot exist together and the Almighty is with them. The neighbour is right, in the land of a billion Gods and trillion Godmen, the state has to jostle with divine beings to provide elementary governance. Spiritual salvation and temporal agony lie in perennial coitus.

River Kosi bursts its embankments, adopts a new course and floods thousands of hectares of impoverished villages in the dark Indian state of Bihar. The Indian government with its booming economy, democratic mandate and behemoth standing army, watches. Read More »

Where Chili Powder-Aided Gang Rape Counts as “Molestation”

Loud silences really don’t convey much except a sense of defeat. This is more than apt in case of the historical Khairlanji verdict meted out in a sleepy town in western India, not too far away from the bustling metropolis known as Bombay, a place I call home.

In a country that’s replete with as many sexual assault cases as the number of babies born per minute, heinous crimes are everywhere, but one particular heinous crime has recently stood out from the rest.

Giving its verdict in the 2006 Khairlanji case, the Sessions court has held eight people guilty of murder. It has, however, acquitted three.

The Indian legal system usually makes for a perfectly submissive flogging partner, given the amount of beating it enjoys from barbaric scoundrels who repeatedly flaunt their entitled dicks in its face.

This time though, it’s done fairly well for itself. Yet, some problems remain obvious.

Let’s provide some background on why the court ruling still involves a heavy dose of B.S.: Read More »

The Traveler Hypothesizes

I’m traveling again. I’ve found that this sort of experience gives rise to much scientific thought. While many travel writers use the tried and true “stream of consciousness” approach, I prefer to use punctuation and not slaughter the English language because I’m incredibly lazy/”creative.”

Hypothesis: I will not find any bookstores open at 4 am, and will consequently be doomed to boredom for about 20 hours as I fly back to the States.
Conclusion: Hypothesis Rejected.
Results: As it turns out, the Bangalore airport might actually be the cheapest place to buy books. Not only does the mighty and domineering dollar stick the rupee’s head in the proverbial toilet, but I am pretty sure that nobody really “buys books at 4 am” at the duty free stores. Furthermore, I pick books in English, instead of Hindi or Kannada. The end result is that the guy at the counter literally just gives me the books. For the next two plane rights, I’ll split my time between reading The Godfather and watching The Game Plan about 2.5 times (I swear to God, just a single decent movie on a single flight would pretty much be the equivalent of the Mile High Club for me.)

Hypothesis: The British have mastered breakfast.
Conclusion: Hypothesis Confirmed.
Results: I actually gathered some delicious data on this during my trip to India. I had a breakfast of fried eggs, grilled tomatoes, sausage, and baked beans at an airport restaurant. Now, on paper, featuring the terms “baked beans” and “airport restaurant,” the experience sounds about as appetizing as a Bea Arthur sex scene. But frankly, it was awesome. It was a breakfast combination that just reaffirms the notion that the U.S. picked the right side in WWII.

Generally, in the U.S., my breakfasts consist of a) an apple, b) a waffle-styled entity that basically mugs me of insulin, or b) hopes and dreams. Sometimes, on occasion, there are omelets. Frankly, this is the biggest drawback to America that I have encountered so far. I’ve heard all of the criticism of our “national obesity epidemic,” and our blatantly outmoded sense of “cowboy diplomacy.” Frankly, in the face of grilled tomatoes and a sunny-side up, I just can’t see how any of that really matters.

Hypothesis: This baby will blink first. I am unbreakable Read More »