Children's Day!!

आओ बाल दिवस मनाये..

नन्हे हाथों से ढाबों पर चाय बनवाये,

छोटे बच्चों से घर के काम कराये,

पटाखों के कारखानो में बारूद पकड़ाए,

आओ बाल दिवस मनाये ।

क्यों ना एक नक्सलवादी बनाये,

खिलोनो के जगह इसे बन्दूक थमाए,

उसके दिमाग से सही-गलत का फर्क मिटाये,

आओ बाल दिवस मनाये ।

सड़कों पर इनसे भीख मंगवाए,

मिठाई के बदले तम्बाकू दिलाये,

एक चौरस्ते को इनका घर बनाये,

आओ बाल दिवस मनाये ।

मासूमियत का पूरा फायदा उठाये,

भीड़ वाले इलाकों में इन्हें छुआ जाये,

शोषण करके अपनी मर्दानगी दिखाए,

आओ बाल दिवस मनाये ।

क्यों ना किसी गरीब माँ बाप से इन्हें ख़रीदा जाये,

दूर कहीं विदेश में इन्हें बेचा जाये,

अपना ज़मीर और इनका भविष्य तबाह किया जाये,

आओ धूम धाम से आज बाल दिवस मनाया जाये।।

~सौरव गोयल

To, Political Party in Power

Dear Politician,

It brings me great pleasure in thanking you for the recent myriad of bans that you have been imposing on the people who thought it was a great idea to vote for you and bring you to power. Every government should give utmost importance to such moral policing because the citizens are never matured enough to know what is right or wrong for them; even though the constitution of our country, for some odd reason, thinks that they are matured enough to vote. Keeping a check on issues like what the countrymen are eating, watching, talking about or thinking about are clearly the things which contribute to growth and development. Developed countries are not where they are today because its governments gave the citizens freedom to dream and live as they wish. It is countries which thought “religious laws are the best, bro” which are doing so much better today. 

This shows the level of dedication you are putting in the promises you made, like making this country digital, cleaning up the streets and rivers, educating every child, saving girls. There is probably no better way to ensure that no woman is misbehaved-with than by banning beef! Because cow is our mother; mother is a woman; and by banning consumption of cows people will automatically start respecting cows and hence respecting women. Your genius is unparalleled, dear sirs! 

The job you are doing to make sure the minority groups do not feel left out is also commendable. A meat seller going home without money or food for his family for days should never stop a group of vegetarians from feeling hurt if meat is sold during their holy fast. As an educated and secular society we should be more sympathetic towards that dying animal, not the human who will die of hunger because of the ban. 

Let me take this opportunity to say that as a voter and a responsible citizen I will always be by your side because from here on, only better days can come, as you had promised!

Thanking You

A Bhakt

Non-Independent India

12th August, 2015: The struggle towards the freedom of India’s independence is finally picking up its pace. The era of British Raj looks to have entered its climax. The frequent uprisings in every part of the country seem to have taken the Royalty by surprise. Late last night the Viceroy and Governor-General of India tweeted through his office handle “@Viceroyalty_IN: This preposterous and dastardly act of trolling the tax officers will be severely dealt with!!” 

Some would say that this was to be expected after the recent debacles by the government in its policy making. In an act of appeasing certain sections of people in some states where the uprisings were becoming frequent and violent, the government had banned the sale and consumption of beef. The crimes against women have shot up in every part of the country because of the nonchalant attitude of the White heads-of-police. In a cunning majority-group pleasing tactic they have successfully banned all the websites with adult content. Not to mention the steep rise in racist attacks; the Facebook page of the East Indian Railway Company reads “First-Class prohibits the entry of dogs and Indians”. 

In this environment of hate and tension, there are certain revolutionaries who are flaring up the freedom movement. Mr. M. K. Gandhi, Lawyer and ‘Twitter-Celeb’, through his online petitions and social-media activism is creating ruffles in the Queen’s feathers. His #NonCooperation was trending on top in India and 3rd worldwide last week. This week he has been urging all his followers to unfollow and unsubscribe all British handles and channels respectively and then tweet about it using #Satyagraha. Mr. S. C. Bose with his military and intelligence background has been allegedly forming a secret army to start an uprising in order to topple the local governments. He has amassed a great number of followers in the name of Mr. Azad, Mr. Singh, Mr. Thapar, Mr. Rajguru and Mr. Rai etc. 

The British authorities are pretty dazed with the sudden threat; hence as a knee-jerk reaction, they have decided to send Indian troops to Libya and Syria, in their war against the ISIS. The authorities have also passed a lot of legislations such as 66A of the Information Technology Act which makes ‘offensive statements’ punishable. The commanding officer in Champaner, Gujarat, had issued high tax (on land) and has surprisingly challenged the villagers to play a match of cricket to decide the future to the taxes in the province. Our team is being captained by Sachin Tendulkar and has a number of good fast bowlers in the likes of Wasim Akram and Shoaib Akhtar. The match is scheduled to be played in the first week of December. 

The near future will show whether the Indian freedom fighters will be able to create history and achieve independence. It will also be interesting to see how Jinnah’s separatist ideas lead to a change in the approach towards the Quit India Movement by Mr. Gandhi and Mr. Nehru. Let us just hope that tomorrow’s India wakes up to a democratic and just future.

Please, can somebody find me a place to park my car?

A lot many things happened over the last few days. Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam left for the heavenly abode, an Earth-like planet was found by NASA and Salman Khan reaffirmed to the world that he will do anything to make sure he stays on news as long as his movie stays in the box-office. Amidst all the things which were shaping the future and should have been running in my mind, the only thought which kept playing in a loop was, “WHERE THE F**K DO I PARK MY CAR?!”

Over the past few decades, our buildings have become taller, the roads have become wider, the cars have become cheaper but somehow the parking space has not become any bigger. In an ever-expanding metropolitan city like Kolkata, finding a parking spot is slowly becoming harder than finding the G-Spot.

You might be heading to Park Street in Kolkata, to Brigade Road in Bengaluru or to Connaught Place in New Delhi; there remains an equal chance that the amount you pay for an hour’s parking is probably more than the amount you’ll be spending on your pint of beer.

The trick to parking your car in the commercial pockets of your city lies in the age-old saying ‘Early bird catches the spot’. Schedule your departure at least two hours before the arrival time (five hours if you live in Bengaluru, taking into account the mad traffic) and pray in front of every temple, Peepal tree, cow and poster of Sachin Tendulkar on your way that you do not have to park six blocks away from your destination. If this also does not help, try pasting ‘PRESS’ or ‘POLICE’ stickers on your vehicle available at every car accessories’ shop. (P.S: If you ever get caught doing this, you did not get the idea from me)

So if you have a car, I urge you to start using the public transport; if you are planning to buy a car, please don’t – because of all the parking hazards. And thus help me in getting a parking spot with ease the next time. 

The Good Samaritan

“One person in India dies every four minutes due to a road accident- the highest recorded in any country. But the Law Commission of India says 50% of these victims can be saved if they get timely medical attention.” he cringed, as he read the news article. 

“Why is it so hard to provide medical attention to people who have met with an accident in front of so many bystanders? Can no one call an ambulance or give the dying man a lift to the hospital? Clearly, we are capable of displaying such small amounts of humanity and sympathy; are we not?” he asked himself. This was a rational way of thinking, given he came from an educated family with values, morals and an understanding of their ethical and social responsibilities. “If I ever saw a person who needed my help, I would go out of my way to provide him with it” he said, reassuringly to himself. 

He went on and shared the news article on Facebook, adding the caption ‘Let us take a vow to reduce these figures by 50%’ to the story. He felt rather pleased and satisfied with himself. He was sure he had helped the society by spreading awareness, thus justifying his Ivy League diplomas. He then tweeted, ‘Next time you see an ambulance in your rear-view mirror, imagine your father being in it. Give it the priority to pass. #RoadSafetyWeek’ 

He kept his mobile phone aside, with a smile on his face and a sense of accomplishment in his eyes. He got up to get ready for office. He took out a clean and hard-pressed white shirt, a pair of black trousers, his Mont-Blanc leather belt, a pair of black socks and his shoes. Arranged them neatly on his bed and went in the bathroom to take his shower. He took the keys of his Mercedes after getting ready and drove the white sedan out his driveway. It was a hot and sunny day and the beige leather seats shone in the sun. He took the highway towards his factory and was happy to notice he had avoided the office rush-hour by leaving 45 minutes early. 

He cruised by open fields, listening to Bob Dylan singing Like a Rolling Stone, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, lost in the melody of the singer’s voice. “How does it feel, ah how does it feel? To be on your own” he was singing along, while driving down the empty roads when suddenly out of nowhere a cow jumped on the road from behind a tree. He steered right in an attempt to save the cow and rammed the car into the motorcycle coming from the opposite direction. He saw as the rider flew from the seat, landing shoulder-first on the tarmac, sliding for about twenty-five feet before coming to a halt. He could see a trail of blood following the motionless body. He sat there gripping his steering wheel tightly; numb and frozen like a dismembered organ. He couldn’t feel his legs, his heart was beating at an enormous speed but he still felt as if the blood wasn’t flowing through his veins. The thought of stepping down of the car and running towards the injured man lying half-dead on the road, ten metres from him, crossed his mind a couple of times, but he could not muster up the courage to do so. He saw a group of men descending from a passing pick-up truck to help the injured man. He lifted his right hand from the wheel and clicked the button to roll down the window. He could hear the commotion as the crowd tried to lift the injured man back to his feet. He grabbed the wheel with his shaking hands again and sped towards the highway exit ramp. 

“With no direction home. Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone” Bob Dylan kept singing.

Green! Yellow! Red!

Beep… beep… beep… beep…

The only sound which was audible in the eerily silent white chamber was that of the flickering yellow line on the green screen. It seemed like a dry, humourless metaphor; green and yellow – 2 colours on a screen to show that life was still left, that the sun hadn’t settled for one final time yet. Green and yellow, two colours which are always followed by Red – the colour of danger, the colour of the devil, the colour of blood, and the colour which denotes cessation. And red there was aplenty; in bottles hanging from metal hooks; in the tubes connecting the bottles to the body; in the roses decorating the side table; in the eyes of the nurses. 

Everyone you know wants you to come out of the hospital after a point of time, one way or the other. The doctors are tired of treating you; the nurses are fed up of feeding you; the family is heartbroken seeing you suffer; you are tired of waiting for death to slowly crawl by your bedside and hold you with the grip of its cold fingers. The waiting game is the devil’s most ingenious ploy. Death does not strike when you are least expecting it; it does not strike when you want it to; it does not strike when you have given-up on life itself. It strikes when you become hopeful again; when you think that since you have not died yet, the ailment might be treated. 

Hospital gives you a lot of time to think, to introspect, to recall all your regrets, to relive all the heartbreaks, to start considering your whole life an utter failure. When they have replaced all the blood that flowed in your body with bottled fluids; when they have sapped you of all the energy left in your muscles; when they have taken out all the positivity from inside you, you are left for death to come and claim what remains of your body. 

The beeps were starting to come less frequently with the passage of every second. The silence between two beeps becoming unbearable. Silence so long, that you can do anything to hear a noise; but you cannot make any noise on your own. The air was starting to choke in the throat; the head was becoming lighter; the spit in the back of the mouth which I could not swallow, no matter how hard I tried; the uneasiness in the stomach. I wanted to cry, to call for help, to ask the doctor if this was it. I wanted to be held in the embrace of the love of my life. I wanted someone to sing me the hymn of Gods. All I could manage to do was smile. 

And then the final beep!