HIndi-chini bhai bhai

Congratulations! We have officially become a country that is the most welcoming nation of the world. We have been conferred and for once earned the title honestly, fair and square. No juggaad here. According to hospitality index and the mother of all languages, Sanskrit, we are the most hospitable friendly nation. In fact, we have even allowed China to enter into Ladakh, as much as 24kms. That is akin to Pakistan entering us via Amritsar and we allow so. And, here we are contemplating a visit in the near future, on the e9th of May by the Foreign Minister who will visit China to apprise them off the situation.

What pinnacle, nadirs are we trying to attain? Is the mirage just for the politicians? Are we trying to win brownie points for manners or is it a legacy left behind by the colonial rule? We have changed from a country of valiant, brave heroes who are an icon to the world to a country of spineless people where rape, plunder is committed unabashed and where action task forces and committees are set up to procrastinate? The country has become a subject of ridicule all over the world; even Martians have refused us help.

The society is at fault; we can only help ourselves if we at least start from A.  To point, shift blame on others is just plain down ridiculous we all are guilty collectively. Another mockery of the public sentiment was done when Sajjan Kumar was acquitted scot-free. Why are our emotions made to go through a wringer again and again?

Rape occurs, we go through the emotions, coldly shrugging away the newspaper, oh because it did not touch us or happen with us. Young girls are mutilated, killed, abused, exploited all adjectives, but these describe them. They are not mere words describing them; the victims go through these acts in REAL Life.

Calculated pogrom happens and then a façade of justice, and its wheels are moved but what happens?

Nothing. In fact, this is precisely the reason why we are allowing China to invade us. Remember, what Nehru said, Hindi-chini bhai bhai.

I am sure as we have allowed the Indian markets to be flooded by Chinese products we will mingle with them one day as all we can go do is look to the mandarins in the north block for direction awaiting for deliverance which never comes.

Until unless, we all singularly become responsible for the change and treat it as an onus to ourselves; till then nothing can happen .

Ravneet 

Moms on strike

Dear Society,

This is an appeal from all the mothers in the world, and especially in this corner of the planet. I am the representative. I know this sounds and reads as bizarre. We are calling for a day for mothers to go on strike, do not confuse this with mothers day, a day to commemorate motherhood in all cards, romance and gooey cards and gifts. We just want a day off. No tugging at the invisible strings attached to our hearts where we run at the beck and call.

As one person said, I didn’t go and work in the fields or even dig potatoes, so why do I need a day off?  And, one said bluntly nope. Mothers don’t get time off. Imagine that. God made one day for rest, Sabbath, for the man to recoup and revive himself for the coming week.

But, a mother is on call 24x7. In fact, it’s worse than a doctor, the saviors of mankind, even priests get time off!  A mother is called for mundane jobs, a message, and a text  we are stressed out.

I know this first hand, and I know all shares this feeling. I know all of you are shaking your heads and saying this is what the world has come to, Kalyug. This is the last nail in the coffin and nothing can be done to save the world at large. The last bastion of purity has been contaminated.

Mothers, don’t get weak, I just want one day off to be able to distress, to have time to calm down the frayed, to be able to go to the bathroom without frantic calls and one thinks world war three has started , but in fact it is to look for the missing shoe supposedly missing , hiding shamelessly under the table. Its all those shouts , to look for things in plain view.  Its like they cannot spot things in front of them ,and the sweet impish child will say , Oh ! I didn’t see it.

We don’t ask for much in return just a day off. No calls, no texts, no frantic speed dialing and no looking for missing items, just aday to lounge away lazily , to shower without a care for the world, to be able to pamper oneself and to look human once again and yes, to call one’s mother to sort out one’s life !

Undersigned  is a mother of teenagers who are going from 17 to 70!

Ravneet Sangha

despair...

As a woman, as a concerned parent, as an individual living in these times, as a citizen of this country, I wonder what is the society coming to? Less than four months ago, we witnessed one of the most horrific rapes and the struggle and fight of the individual against the rapist, the oppressed society. Again, on time like a Swiss train, on time we witness a rape again of a five year old girl who is mutilated with an oil bottle, candles, a mirror, bitten, destroyed in soul and spirit fighting for her life by a demon and what do we do?

Oh, we worry about the Panchayati elections, the coal gate or whether which IPL team is going to win or whether Virat is brasher or Gambhir has temper problems. We worry about Modinomics v/s Manmohanics sometimes resurrecting Vajpayee ji. We also worry, albeit a bit happily about the gold crash and that now we can fill our lockers and feed the frenzy of our gold fetish.

We all have temporary outbursts via the Twitter, tweeting away like a sparrow or status messages and then checking how many likes one has plugged!

I despair as a mother. What is safe? As a woman, we cannot walk at night, we cannot wear jeans coz we entice men, we cannot chow Mein coz that makes us fast, maybe that’s why the Chinese run fast, we need to get married at 16, and not use mobiles, and also not cross maryada, courtesy the minister of MP, and to perform puja to put “ stars ‘ in position.

I am also migrating from India to live in Bharat. Also, if nothing works, call the rapist Bhaiya , as this is the last weapon if nothing works. These all, are given by men, the saviors of mankind, the maryada, purshottam rams.

India is on the cusp of progress or a complete societal breakdown where man is becoming a monster, a demon.

The complete farce of justice, the contemplation of giving justice and then to make laws, and the endless gasbag discussions have made us lose hope.

We need to move on to dramatic scenario, so that let five year old girls can play unharmed without fear…

# coffee # earth day

Ladies and Gentlemen, It is with a heavy heart , a lament on my brow and with a heavier hand I beg to state that the last frontier of adulteration has been crossed , my all time favorite coffee powder has been invaded. It just has no effect no potency, no kick left.

Forget milk, water turmeric, atta my sacred coffee powder or the beans have no magic left. I agree Punjab, went through a crazy turbulent time with the green revolution and the years of Punjab ruling the roost in the economic table of India – we are sadly a state on the brink of agricultural decay, declining productions where the simple ordinary farmer is caught in the debt trap by a the mirage of subsidies , higher cost of inputs ; the vicious trap of wheat rice rotation and the worst dwindling levels of water coupled with severe fatal contamination of ground water.

We have a lot on our platter, but what  excuse do other states have? I mean just imagine ,a stressed out harassed mother of 21^st century caught in the turmoil of exams, competition , reservations and trying to coax her teenager to study wants peace of mind with a re-assuring cup of coffee. You know that perfect cup of coffee with the aphrodisiac steam wafting up lovingly to soothe your frayed fraught nerves and the short fuse of a temper. ( mind you this is an air brushed or photo –shopped account ).

And, zilch nada , nyet , nothing.

Oh, the betrayal of this. I know a lot of mothers who sympathize with me and also support me when that perfect cup of coffee or cutting chai doesn’t do anything. Fear not , my dear babes I am undertaking /registering a protest by making a group , going online with all the social media power, the hash tag # revolution , tweeting and making sure that pure coffee with a kick is our right.

It is learnt on the official grapevine that all the woman MP’s have decided to help us achieve justice, and restore our right peace in the hustle- bustle , humdrum of life. Is that too much to ask?

Roti, kapda , saaf paani – these are hackneyed terms on his Earth Day . Think out of the box, start something new!

Phinglish

P for Punjab

P for Padhai

P for progress

This is the mantra of our state. We are currently in the threshold of breaking the mold and trying to enter into the big bad world of cutthroat competition, industry and the business arena.

We are slowly and slowly reaching there, but let me tell you of the village where I live. It’s an ordinary village and  it is inhabited by ordinary aam Indians who are making the transition to modernity in frightening ways. We are currently gripped  by the Aadhar fever. Bless this program and the team in Delhi that has spun our ordinary lives like a top, a relic toy forgotten under the pressures of the digital game revolution. Imagine, my surprise when the cook says, I’m sorry I can’t come to work. So, I thought someone else has usurped him, in today’s age a woman’s real wealth is not her diamonds or the Ritu Kumar suits she adorns, it’s the staff she has. So, I asked cautiously, why?  He said, I have to make a stool caste certificate.

Trust me, I am fairly proficient in the Queen’s language, but this had me stumped. A stool caste certificate? What in the world was that? And what business was of Nandan Nilekani that he wants a certificate of the bowel movements to transfer the monies in their said account. And then it dawned to me , he wanted to make a scheduled caste certificate. As, you see I am still in splits and also wonder the irony when divisive politics will end.

The second, one was the best and all my kin will love the tailor had come over to take the never ending clothes so he turns around and says, madam, You have this phone. So, I look at him and said, yes. It is working, albeit with a hit and miss hearing coz’ I watered it along with my plants. So he says, please take picture of any thing you like, whatsapp it and I will stitch anything for you.

I am still at a loss at the how technology has invaded our day-to-day living and the adaptation! Just imagine, where we have reached, from magazines, to catalogues from next door country to whatsapp images and how English is seriously become Hinglish with a twist!

My village is on the path of progress and padhai and prosperity, but with a Punjabi twist. This is true India and not is confused with beehive politics or a makeover Bharat.