Salvation

The largest religious congregation in recorded history starts today at the Maha Kumbh in Allahabad. As much as one tenth of the Indian population (yes!) will assemble there, to move a step closer to salvation, at the confluence of the Ganga, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati, in a stupendous spectacle that occurs once in 144 years.

Nude ashen ascetics will lead to the waters with rustic fervor. Saffron akharas of multiple sects will follow in procession. The rest of humanity will huddle behind them. At the right moment, those lucky to avoid a stampede will jump into the holy brown waters – vigorously washing off their sins – gargling, blowing, coughing, sneezing, spitting, rubbing …. Batches and batches will repeat this throughout the day – the holy water absorbing all the filth.

To serve the pilgrims, uncountable tents have been laid out by the Government on the holy banks. Drinking water is scarce, toilets barely flush, and none of the three Emergency hotlines work. Diseases run abound – it is a glory to die here after all. Only a huge epidemic will ever get reported in the media.

In this holiest place on earth, families can overcome sin even if they abandon their ageing, ill, disabled, and daughters. Everyone will go back with a lofty conscience and lots of good luck enough to cover their future transgressions.

Enough crap! To help your quest for salvation, you can smoke pot in the open. What a place!

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Solemn Deals, Scripted Lives, & other stories

Considering reported rapes as a ratio of population will actually portray India as quite safe. The feeling fails the reality test, however, because only a tiny minority is actually reported. Rapes in wedlock fail the definition itself and those within families sometimes remain unknown even within the family. Even others will be hushed up to protect the victim’s chances of marriage, and family ‘honor’. More than three quarters of Indians are Hindus like me, and some of our customs indirectly sustain this horror. Dowry is the most prolific of them.

Dowry is not just greed – it is the most glamorous celebration of misogyny. Some kill to earn it, and the rest kill to avoid it. Though the custom was made illegal  more than half a century back, it is proudly practiced by Hindus in most parts of India.

I recall a meeting in the past with some (male) friends where we ended up discussing marriage. When someone claimed that Eastern and North Eastern India has lower instances of dowry, in came a remark: “Saale kanjoos“.  Don’t be amused – these are also the same regions which show some of the highest sex ratio, and lowest rates of rape (… and least religious fanaticism too).

Another instance I’d once overheard women discuss (chuckle) : A woman was explaining how her marriage was special. Her in-laws were nice enough to convert all the dowry into jewellery and present back to her within a week. The bragging of dowry was required during marriage. Or else the clan would have doubted the worthiness of the groom; or if she was already pregnant!

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Matrimonials give an idea of how a vast majority of marriages take place. There is a prevailing rate for every type of groom – from a petty Government servant to Ivy League graduates. Grooms will vaunt their education or work in the caste classifieds, and brides their money. The strength of the new bonding will be solemnized by matching all the magical parameters of gotra, gan, rashi, numerology and most importantly potential for a  unidirectional transfer of wealth. And somehow the magic will start, after the deal takes place. A generation back it was compulsory too, but not as obnoxious as it is now. People throw down even their last retirals hoping to tame this bottomless greed. The extortion often continues even after marriage, sometimes till the hostage is alive.

For a man who has earned this easy money, it is a no brainer to loathe a liability when he can choose the sex of his own child, so cheaply, in the private of a clinic.  Though, I will be surprised if a ‘hormonally active’ female (which do not  include Saasu-maa-s) will ever support killing of a foetus, just for greed.

“With all due respect, sir, if you still like that dreamy deal your parents and relatives struck for you, you should have allowed them to sleep with your bride first!”

Arranged marriages leave more holes for dowry; though not all arranged marriages will involve it. Choosing a partner leaves very little option for the family to perpetrate this greed. Why can’t we convince our parents that it is neither their marriage, nor their lives, nor their times ? Why not just marry the girl I love ? Live in a new home ? Where does mideaval voodoo come into picture at all ?

Candle lights have protested a ghastly rape. But how many of those male flames will choose to burn down the dowry deal struck by their parents ?

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Religion (unfortunatey) is one of the first piece of learning which gets imprinted in the mind. The roots of this custom lie in the deep male chauvinism seething in some of Hinduism’s holiest texts. Puranas and Epics slaughter the character of the Vedas and the Upanishads. Women, even godesses curl up around the feet of their husbands; polygamy, and rapes run abound. Honor is protected and liability disposed.  The religion has become a confused mess – women are objects of desire and worshipped as mythical magicians at the same time. And there are still some who will ‘explain’ all that for you. A half literate society fed with these from childhood, and rehearsing these everyday can hardly be expected to think straight. Dowry is not even perceived as a problem. So is rape seen as a disgrace and not as a crime. And the birth of a girl child casts a gloom.

When it comes to greed, inspiration cuts across communities. Others have been learning fom us.

Government control of ultrasound machines will never improve sex ratio. People will kill a newborn by packing salt into her mouth, or simply dumping the live baby in a garbage bin for dogs to eat. They do these already. Or they will burn brides.

It is high time we, those raised as Hindus, introspect. Conscience must supercede outlandish beliefs. Let us fix ourselves first and not point at what others, say, Muslims do. Look in the mirror dude. And look yourself in the eye!

The Charminar on Ramzan eve

The Charminar, Hyderabad’s trademark monument, is unlike other iconic monuments you have seen elsewhere.  Serving as a rotary around a U-turn in the middle of a heavily congested predominantly Muslim locality – it presents an explostion of experience on the Ramzan eve. The intermittent showers had kept my camera indoors. Pictures or videos would not have captured the platter of delight – words are needed anyway.

The evening prayers had just finished when I landed there. The street leading to it were adorned with two lanes, totaling four rows, of makeshift stalls selling almost everything the visitor might buy on the festive eve: from haleem to underwear, surma to beef, lime soda to buckets, jewellery to banana chips. The new shops are in addition to the two rows of permanent shops along the street. Nobody was idle – and huddles of entropy swarmed chaotically, jamming everything else. The parking attendant was auctioning parking slots.

The mild drizzle had not made any difference. Till a brief spurt of heavier shower made the place almost vacant in less than a minute. A thela of chocolate wafers was lying across one of the streets when the owner, a lad of 13-14 ran back to cover it.  The rain was gone already – he swore and slapped his forehead. No one noticed, as he was in business in a few minutes.

There were unusually high number of burquas today. Burquas were more common around sellers of clothes and leather items. A bevy in all black, probably wives or daughters of one man, with just slits to see, carried exact replicas of pink shining vanity bags. They tried cheap jewellery at the street corner, with a middle aged bearded man in guard. A fair and tall Middle Eastern man with sharp features, wearing a traditional white robe roamed around, accompanied by a strikingly beautiful fair woman in a colorful attire, covering everything but her face. They behaved like European tourists,  keeping a safe distance from anything filthy.

It must be a paradise for Pickpockets and shoplifters. Petty snatchers made hay in the gloom and crowd. More organized schemes involve fake Haleem delivery boys with a fake badge with a fake name and ID number. A gentleman shouting at the shop owner had paid the tout real money – to avoid the fistfight at the queue for haleem. A real delivery boy does not earn a salary – he earns only the tip – about 5 rupees for a hundred rupee portion, from every second customer. After some futile bargaining, I bought a knit skullcap, to feel as one with the everything else. With my skullcap on, I savored some Haleem after generously tipping the sweet and honest delivery boy. He was keen to go but I asked him how it was so tasty. His master rears his own goats, feeds them with his own hands, and before cooking the recipe, butchers them himself. “That is what makes it so tasty”.

An old beggar woman on a walker repeatedly reinforced the frown on her face. She has made hay too. Unlike practicing Muslims fasting for the month, she fasts for 10 months.  And unlike practicing Muslims who enjoy goodies for a day, her whole month of evening goodies has climaxed today. I don’t know why I enjoyed watching this circus of man’s most profound invention – and perhaps his worst. I may crib about it, but I cannot ignore it.

Srisailam

Warning: Not for the strong faithed
This piece only discusses the magic of the Srisailam temple. There is a scenic dam and reservoir too. But all that is too clichéd.

In Hyderabad it is widely accepted as the ‘only good place’ in the vicinity worth visiting. A ride to this abode of Shiva takes about 5 to 6 hours from Hyderabad and is pretty scenic. And you will ride through plains, forests and hills over State Highways which are pretty well maintained by Indian standards.

We had pre-booked the APTDC hotel which is a few blocks from the temple. It had uniformly unmaintained rooms with nice views of the adjacent building on all sides. They will leave you to yourself and will not disturb you with room service or cleaning, as long as you stay. The attached ‘restaurant’ serves ‘complimentary’ breakfast of the holy trinity of idly, vada and upma. The lunch you may buy is also the classic South India thali prepared with an extra touch of salt and red chili powder. Veg of course, that’s implicit! There is a Canteen near the temple – which serves much better food. But get your food packed – unless you want to witness how hygiene is ravished.

Srisailam overflows with the typical Hindu obsession with cows and cow dung. It is just not possible to walk without stepping on one of those blackish heaps. I could see cows even inside the temple complex. If you somehow manage to dodge a cow you will bump on a beggar; or someone selling overly colourful overpriced booklets of Bronze Age stories in various languages. The sidewalks are cluttered with the vastly popular fortune tellers who otherwise look like hippies, and have a wingless parrot crammed into a 4 inch cage, which pulls out a dirty brown card of fate from a stack. We surely need more beef eaters; and since I cannot possibly ask for more cannibals, a serious drive on vasectomy.

Roads from all sides to the temple complex are blocked by low gates to stop all vehicles, leaving only the pedestrian ways free on both sides. The guard was confronting a brand new car which had just been administered some holy scribbling as well as paintings of various gods on all its windows including windscreen, rendering them virtually opaque. The barefooted guard ultimatey prevailed, and saved the temple from that car. One bystander asked him something – and he nodded – it was clear no car is allowed. He had barely seated himself that he stood up again in a salute. Lo! A white Mercedes with a beacon was waiting on the temple side of the gate. After he attended it, I asked if that was ‘an aircraft’. He nodded again. I do not know why.

On both side of the roads there are shops of various sizes, but all of them selling exactly the same items, which are used to bribe deities. There is a strong positive correlation between how much you spend and how much of luck you can earn. No wonder the Mercedes people are so lucky. Finding a grocer or medic will be tough; his shop too will be selling the bribe-ware on the front row.

It was worth going inside the temple – to experience the real connect. A group of devotees, about 50 in number, unkempt except for their newly made white clothes, were seated on the ground around the gate – and infinitely repeating a devotional sentence. Most of them were enjoying it, in fact, having fun. While howling on, they were keeping tab on the aunties and sisters around. Some played with their mobile phones.

At the temple you may buy privileged darshan at a cost which allows short cuts to the deities, and a free one which requires you to stand at least for a few hours in a stenchy filthy zigzag queue guided by a mesh of metal nets.

We took neither – and bribed our way in. As a result we got a Nepalese guard who guided us through. During the entry to the narrow pathway overlooking sanctum sanctorum, you will be fitted into the longer queue. Then onwards you need not bother about moving – the mass of humanity will guide you. Shrieks, cries, shouts, moans, pushes, punches, smells and gasps will drown your sanity. Children barely understand the magic this peril will bring to their lives and were uniformly uncooperative. Except for one I saw sleeping – probably she has passed out in this magic spell.

I felt like one with the world.

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To address the most obvious question that you may ask: Why did a filthy atheist like me go there?

1. Someone had to write this up. Devotion overlooks details. Ain’t the details funny?
2. To see more clichéd stuff too
3. To see a lovely rainbow on my way back
4. To drive 500 km in 3 days

Learning (a) Disability

My car driver is a young Muslim man in his twenties. He smokes a lot, hates Telugu, and is suspected of stealing petrol, either in kind or by using the AC when we are not around. He is tech savvy and brings his own UCB dongle loaded with a wide variety of music, including, hold your breath, “Summer of 69”. But he needs that compulsory three hour break on Friday afternoons. All said, lets come to the point.

Salim is getting married. I being his employer have the  privilege of certifying him to the marriage broker. Being better among the worse, I endorsed him positively. That was a month back.

He had plans to take a week off on marriage. And one light afternoon, his plans somehow crossed my mind. When asked he said something I would not have expected a Muslim to say: “my granny asked for too much money”.

Salim found nothing wrong in the status quo – “Everyone does it. We will start a business.”

Religion dictates Muslims to practice Mehr, practically the inverse of dowry – the groom’s family has to pay up. Now, I have seriously started suspecting his Friday afternoon breaks.

Chinkileaks

Leaks of America’s secret cables have swayed the world’s media. Less known are these leaks from the Chinese embassy in New Delhi.

Greetings to the Politburo!

Let us start with a good news. Indians call us Chinki-s. And so do they call the inhabitants of the Chinese territory they claim as their “North-East”. It seems that they secretly ‘know’ it is ours!

Long back when China was illiterate, we have tamed our huge population, with our Chairman’s favorite – bullets. Now that illiteracy in China is extinct, we can do that with our strictly controlled media and internet.
Its a lot different here in India. Although only a third of India’s population is still illiterate officially, we have a fair hunch that it is more widespread, given the cheap gimmicks that Indian politicians perform to get support – a concept they call Democracy. People are controlled mainly by false promises –  one of the basic foundations of India’s Democracy. Media is free from Government’s control, but is largely controlled by money to iterate between the zillion scams unfolding everyday. Nothing is followed up till the end. Indians profoundly believe that after all, its the journey that matters, not the destination.

As you will be knowing, the Indian state claims to be non religious – the government’s activities are not determined by religion (as opposed to China’s irreligious – the Communist party is officially so), there is not a single politician here who has the ‘gun mein dum’ (yep, sounds like Mandarin, but means courage locally) to claim himself as an atheist – not even the mainstream communists. Religion and religious favoritism form the core of India’s politics. And to add to this confusion, there are multiple sections within the prominent religion, sworn foes to one another, always fighting over “Chairman knows what”! In the stead of leaders leading the people, Indians have a bunch of jerks fanning their most immature sentiments. Leaders leading them where? Good for us: nowhere!

There is one metric in which China will love to lose the first spot to India. In the next fifteen years, India will be the most populous country in the world. Some fools here – even those without turbans, think it is a great feat. While we managed to strictly imposed our binding one-child policy, India’s two-child policy is non binding. Even their prominent political leaders flaunt ten children. And they will be completing this so called feat with an interesting demographical statistic. The capital and the adjoining north-western states already  well known for their low sex ratio – caused by rampant sex-selective foeticide and infanticide. People in these areas see their newborn children as a means to earn money –  by a proudly held custom called Dowry. The girl’s side pays the boy’s side a huge sum of unaccounted money for no bloody reason at all! By the way, this custom is termed illegal from the very inception of the Indian state. But like everything bad, it is passe as custom. We are still utterly confused about how such lawlessness can thrive so perfectly.

Back in China, we groom bright children to have good education and end up in the Communist Party’s important posts. And so we have Engineers and scientists among our ministers and important state officials. In India, a typical politician would be an illiterate convict who would be a blood relation to someone else already in the government. Your good characteristics do not determine your political destiny. In fact, it may work as a disadvantage. With personalities towering over ideologies, India aptly deserves a monarchy.

In China’s communism, government workers have learned (arguably the hard way 🙂 ) to be hard working. Indian people vie for Government posts to get a reprieve from working. The so called right to strike have made our communist namesakes here our unofficial  agents. In the name of seeking worker rights, they have managed to make India utterly unproductive.  State run hospitals, banks, and manufacturing units are known for their profound inefficiency. The rich, powerful and informed keep away from them.

India also provides protection to the so called backward communities, and reserves a certain portions of government jobs for these people. In the India social chemistry, this translates to communities competing with each other for being recognized as backward!

All of India’s sporting feats are out of individual brilliance. The role of the State being a big zero. Had they been Chinese we would have groomed  them  to world champions. Almost all funds meant for development of sports, and even international sporting events are looted openly. Something which would have won the looter a firing squad in China.

Let alone Beijing and Shanghai, India’s huge cities do not compare even close to our second grade ones. Most cities are heaps of filth, wrapped with bumpy roads, covered with slums, with the unruly traffic signals, bugged with beggar syndicates.

Our dear friends on the Western frontiers are continuously providing support to destabilize India. But it seems Indians do not need this spoon feeding, they are already helping themselves.

And last of all, things here are not improving soon – Indians are not interested in changing anything.

Being Indian…

I once took pride in my nationality. Over time, I realized with my conscience that I was indeed, taught to do so. My conscience – my sense of right or wrong, the rational right or wrong, not the solemn one!

Nationality, in the broad sense, is a political instrument to create more positions of power. We are taught to love our nations, and follow its political intelligentsia, blindly. It is a mass hysteria, created to imbibe partisan ideas, inculcate hatred which teaches people of the same ethnicity, background, and above all language to live separately, and so unfortunately, proudly so. I have deliberately missed religion from the previous list, not exactly because I am an atheist, but because religion could not make it to this list. Independence struggles are written down in gold, by the first rulers of the new nation – the same struggle which termed them as terrorists a few years back, by the bygone rulers. Ahoy! a new nation got created: we have a few more bastards legibly eating our resources!

Independence, albeit won sixty years back seems lost, to the color of her skin, the language he speaks, the money I have, the caste you belong to, and above all our religions. Don’t misunderstand independence – after all its India’s independence, from the ruthless British, not yours, fool.

And for whom? The story of independent India is after all written by our political muscles. India would not have been any worse as a dominion of Britain. We proudly forget that all the infrastructure, from railways, roads, hill stations, museums, postal system, educational institutions, judicial system, to the Central Secretariat and Parliament were in fact built up by the British. We would have been no better than Somalian pirates without a British occupation. Numerous little kingdoms would have fluttered around … passing down realms of power down blood lines. Well, quite similar to what happens today!

Way back in history, some great men made socialism a way to equality in society, and some capitalists denounced it. We somehow caught the buzzword. But with our mighty traditions we are worse of both worlds. The range of money which is spent by a citizen over a day, varies to extents which are would put even the biggest capitalists to shame, or the poorest of failed states to relax. But unlike capitalism nothing seems to work here: there are red tapes everywhere, we picked up the easy (and worse) part of socialism.

With out basic rights getting dictates by hegemony, casteism and intolerance, elections being fought by narrow minded regional mongrels just after a quick buck, and even the head of state chosen carefully to be dumb….

… sovereign, socialist, secular, democratic republic …..

… any one ?