The day of departure finally arrived. 31st May 2008. I was ready, my bags were packed. The flight was at 0745 hrs and Airliners expected me to check in 3 hours prior, what a waste of sleep time! So there I was awake at midnight talking on the phone, saying my final goodbyes and take cares to my friends and family. No, I was not going to Afghanistan in search of Bin Laden. But, I exactly knew about the calling rates from U.A.E to India and if you are one of those people, like me, who truly believe in mindlessly expressing themselves @ 30 paisa per minute in India, death due to non-corrigible, non-understandable Arabic telephone bill is imminent. F.Y.I, Orkut is banned in U.A.E as well, Goodbye friend’s network; it simply cannot follow. They have a bank there though, which is Simbbly better. It successfully phattens its profits by tapping the Ex-pat Maliyali population (God’s Own people).
The excitement of moving to a far away land did not allow sleep to come. So, after doing loads of time pass and last minute packing of “Maa ke hath ke bane hue Theple aur Aam ka Achar” (Hey, I am a Gujarati at heart, so buzz off), I got dressed in my favorite blue jeans; and the zipper broke off. What a bad omen! Fly with my fly open, no fucking way. It was like Pilot keeping the cock-pit door ajar, allowing passengers a view of the joy-stick. It is considered an abominable security breach. Strange was the time and vast was my plight. 0200 hrs in the morning it was impossible to find a tailor and unwillingly I changed into not so cool attire. My ride for the airport was waiting and I said a long bye to my family. Billo had started to bark in a queer manner, probably she knew her ‘Whoof, Whoof’ (she lovingly calls me that) was going away. I snuggled her for one last time, sat in the car and off we went towards the airport, first phase of an excitingly saddening and lonesome journey I had so willingly embarked upon…
Airport, especially ours’ (India’s), is a fascinating place to get bored and window shop overly priced eatables, mineral water bottles and useless duty free artifacts. I was checking out hot chicks, a rare occurrence, as I waited to check-in, nearly for an hour. Finally the moment arrived. Whilst my hand bag weighed a bit more than permissible limits, owing to laptop and a few books; the girl at the counter cracked pathetic jokes about me stowing away mangoes. I retorted, “As one stows, so shall one keep.” I knew it was an extremely lame comeback, but heck, I was too world-weary to notice my dwindling humor quotient.
The immigration thing went quite smoothly. My passport was stamped. Since the alleged non existent mangos cost less than what customs required declaring, I could easily pass through this passage, which was scarier than Star News and their infamous program “Sannnate ko chirti Sansani;” known only as the “Green Channel.” From there everything was going to be easier, so I had heard. The only part remaining was security checks.
The security lounge was huge and strewn with recliners for people to laze around. The wait seemed endless, amplified by the last night’s sleep deprivation. The recliners made matters worse. I was worried I might sleep through this entire cumbersome procedure and find myself on Mumbai Airport wondering, “Main Kahan Hoon.” But nothing of such sort happened and I cleared the security checks and within half an hour of waiting I was aboard!
The Plane took off, with it, my mind did as well. I thought about her, the girl I loved so tenaciously. I lucidly remembered how everyday she used to walk from the same corridor. Her colorful dresses always lit up our office. She walked wearing a smile on her face, greeting everybody, up to her seat. I eagerly waited for this particular moment every day. Never had I seen such mystical eyes. The world went in slow motion around me when she used to be around. Her Flowing hair created ripples in my heart. Her one smile had capabilities of melting million hearts. It was indeed a million dollar smile. God knew I was going to miss her. I could barely keep my eyes open as I remembered the times that were. Unknowingly indeed, I had flown to what my real destination should have been.
The air hostess was yapping about oxygen masks and seatbelts which I could faintly hear. I knew I would wake up in a different land and a time zone one and a half hour behind India. I was confused whether my good time lay ahead or I left it behind. I had compromised it for a ‘Tax Free Dream’. And, I slept.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Sunday, May 04, 2008
My Life: Document1 – Microsoft Word.
What to write in a blank word document, when your mind is empty of words and devoid of thoughts. When we want to express ourselves, but our basic vocabulary betrays us, deprives us from speaking our true feelings. What then transpires between whom you love and she does not is – Zero. Indeed. Such a sullen state of mind we delve into that only a black hole could understand. What does the mind yearn for then? Clichéd words of comfort, ‘Life moves on’? Fuck no.
What we want is (we as in me and My Precious – heart) to calm ourselves with a sunset near the backwaters of Kharghar, only this time, like always - the waters don’t comfort, instead, as the waves crash on the shoreline with mild intensity; tears well my eyes. As the darkness ushers in, silence starts to weave a melancholic tune, the crashing waves completes the background score. A symphony of heartache, Nature creates. But then it rains, out of the blue, the fragrance of freshly watered mother earth soothes me, “Son, nobody is ever alone, up there, he understands, he cries with you too.” “No need to wait till dawn, an eternal rainbow, now, shines in your eyes and heart.” “Mother,” I said, “Only you could have conveyed in such a manner – Life, indeed, moves on!”
What we want is (we as in me and My Precious – heart) to calm ourselves with a sunset near the backwaters of Kharghar, only this time, like always - the waters don’t comfort, instead, as the waves crash on the shoreline with mild intensity; tears well my eyes. As the darkness ushers in, silence starts to weave a melancholic tune, the crashing waves completes the background score. A symphony of heartache, Nature creates. But then it rains, out of the blue, the fragrance of freshly watered mother earth soothes me, “Son, nobody is ever alone, up there, he understands, he cries with you too.” “No need to wait till dawn, an eternal rainbow, now, shines in your eyes and heart.” “Mother,” I said, “Only you could have conveyed in such a manner – Life, indeed, moves on!”
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Revving into Madness
Fridays are usually utilized, in office, planning the weekend parties. However, life is not so hunky dory on other weekdays, wherein, we have to put in some productive time for the company, daily. Now productivity is an obstacle as huge as the late Anna Nicole Smith’s – Life; for guys and girls, who have to commute up to 15/20 kms (one way) daily, on their bikes / in their cars in a city like Pune.
To ride/drive in Pune is not only exhausting, but is a kind of torture that not even the fascist inventors of concentration camps or the communist inventors of labor camps could have imagined.
They say, ‘Man usually tries to find order in chaos,’ we try to make way in it. And God bless the traffic wardens of our city. I used to actually buy cigarettes but now I get ample amounts of carbon monoxide free for inhaling and enjoying the bliss of smoking 20 cigarettes a day in just an hour’s time. The best part is that you don’t even have to blow the smoke out. Everything including the toxic gases exhausted is completely inhaled, totally corroding the respiratory system up, Government’s innovative way of keeping pollution under control.
Daily, I start an hour beforehand for office. 30 minutes to ideally reach the office and 30 minutes for traffic signals, bickering with other commuters, negotiating with police wardens (if your number plates are of outside Maharashtra, you have had it!) and teaching the rickshaw wallahs a thing or two about road discipline.
If you want to survive on Pune streets, you have to learn a thing or two about how the traffic and the people, who create it, function. The first lesson is to apply Newton’s third law of motion, ‘every action has an equal and opposite reaction.’ Two types of gesticulations are salient features of each and every minor accident (when people bang each other near traffic signals at speed of 5KM/HR, or at crossings and circles etc). The outward palm, meekly mouth, wide grinned ‘SORRY’ and the inward palm, snarling faced ‘WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING’ gestures.
If you are at fault, do the ‘Sorry’ gesture because the other party has already shown you the latter, ‘the cultured middle finger action’ and vice a versa.
Now the positive part about riding in Pune is that there is no dearth of beautiful girls riding around wearing multicolored terrorist masks. While going to office, you have no scope of seeing who the chick is, in the morning (they wear glares too). But while coming back, you can fall in love at first sight for ample number of times. So many eye-tems to choose from, hee hee!
Extreme concentration and caution is necessary while driving though. Some times the signals are hidden and if you mistakenly jump them, quite possibly the traffic warden is hidden somewhere. In such a scenario you quickly have to hide your wallet and use the ‘Sorry’ gesture again. However, if you are from the city itself and have been riding for couple of years then no need to worry, most of Pune population considers signals are randomly flickering assortment of lights, which would have served a better purpose in discos and pubs than on streets. Jumping signals, like freedom, is their birth right. No disrespect meant to the great freedom fighter here.
You also need to be an expert in urgent or emergency braking, including optimum use of hand brakes (for cars only). There are adventure freaks and adrenaline junkies in abundance in Pune who would gesture you the stop sign, in the middle of the road, as they jay walk. However I sympathize with the jay walkers, as almost 40 % of the vehicles stop at the signals, past the Zebra crossings. The rest 60% are busy jumping the signals and the jay walkers. Such is their (jay walker’s) dilemma and skill that they could give tough competition to the suicide-ing Vidharbha cotton farmers and Russian trapeze artists. After it’s a life and debt, err, death situation.
Now if you can’t handle all this, think twice before relocating to Pune. But if you can drive with such haste and hurry as if you have been suffering from irritable bowel syndrome, Welcome to Pune, no place like it on Earth. BTW, I loved every day of my stay in the city, that’s 4 years altogether. And I am not trying to be diplomatic. Just being Pune-kar.
To ride/drive in Pune is not only exhausting, but is a kind of torture that not even the fascist inventors of concentration camps or the communist inventors of labor camps could have imagined.
They say, ‘Man usually tries to find order in chaos,’ we try to make way in it. And God bless the traffic wardens of our city. I used to actually buy cigarettes but now I get ample amounts of carbon monoxide free for inhaling and enjoying the bliss of smoking 20 cigarettes a day in just an hour’s time. The best part is that you don’t even have to blow the smoke out. Everything including the toxic gases exhausted is completely inhaled, totally corroding the respiratory system up, Government’s innovative way of keeping pollution under control.
Daily, I start an hour beforehand for office. 30 minutes to ideally reach the office and 30 minutes for traffic signals, bickering with other commuters, negotiating with police wardens (if your number plates are of outside Maharashtra, you have had it!) and teaching the rickshaw wallahs a thing or two about road discipline.
If you want to survive on Pune streets, you have to learn a thing or two about how the traffic and the people, who create it, function. The first lesson is to apply Newton’s third law of motion, ‘every action has an equal and opposite reaction.’ Two types of gesticulations are salient features of each and every minor accident (when people bang each other near traffic signals at speed of 5KM/HR, or at crossings and circles etc). The outward palm, meekly mouth, wide grinned ‘SORRY’ and the inward palm, snarling faced ‘WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING’ gestures.
If you are at fault, do the ‘Sorry’ gesture because the other party has already shown you the latter, ‘the cultured middle finger action’ and vice a versa.
Now the positive part about riding in Pune is that there is no dearth of beautiful girls riding around wearing multicolored terrorist masks. While going to office, you have no scope of seeing who the chick is, in the morning (they wear glares too). But while coming back, you can fall in love at first sight for ample number of times. So many eye-tems to choose from, hee hee!
Extreme concentration and caution is necessary while driving though. Some times the signals are hidden and if you mistakenly jump them, quite possibly the traffic warden is hidden somewhere. In such a scenario you quickly have to hide your wallet and use the ‘Sorry’ gesture again. However, if you are from the city itself and have been riding for couple of years then no need to worry, most of Pune population considers signals are randomly flickering assortment of lights, which would have served a better purpose in discos and pubs than on streets. Jumping signals, like freedom, is their birth right. No disrespect meant to the great freedom fighter here.
You also need to be an expert in urgent or emergency braking, including optimum use of hand brakes (for cars only). There are adventure freaks and adrenaline junkies in abundance in Pune who would gesture you the stop sign, in the middle of the road, as they jay walk. However I sympathize with the jay walkers, as almost 40 % of the vehicles stop at the signals, past the Zebra crossings. The rest 60% are busy jumping the signals and the jay walkers. Such is their (jay walker’s) dilemma and skill that they could give tough competition to the suicide-ing Vidharbha cotton farmers and Russian trapeze artists. After it’s a life and debt, err, death situation.
Now if you can’t handle all this, think twice before relocating to Pune. But if you can drive with such haste and hurry as if you have been suffering from irritable bowel syndrome, Welcome to Pune, no place like it on Earth. BTW, I loved every day of my stay in the city, that’s 4 years altogether. And I am not trying to be diplomatic. Just being Pune-kar.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Memories Remain.
I have lived my entire life on the edge, of course with the seatbelts on. In such an impulsive and reckless search of myself, I left my home and came to a different city (Pune) to work and know myself.
I got a job in a BPO, and thus began my journey in April 2007.
In the last one year that I have worked here, I was about to find myself but these rotating shifts, crush over a lady colleague in the office taught me to be patient, rather, a Heart patient. Use your metaphorical sense, backed by knowledge gained from countless bollywood movies and voila!
Then came the biggest twist in my life; Boss there is always a twist, that even my allegedly strong self could not deal with. I came to terms with my past and present and realized my virtues and vices. I decided that these traits of mine should be etched in my heart and on my body forever. I got a tattoo of dragon and unicorn fighting - the dragon losing, done. Both animals symbolized opposite qualities that all humans possess except for one of our managers who is still a Neanderthal man. We hope that our good characteristics always overpower our bad ones to evolve us into better human beings. In this sense, my manager has a lot of work to do; not in the office though! Remember the adage ‘Cream riseth to the top,’ well, sometimes, scum does too.
Some advantages of working in an unknown city is, since you live alone, you get to meet new people, mate with new girls (read Ha ha, yeah right) but the icing on the cake is you make friends who just be there for you: in good and bad times. I met three such friends who guided me to a positive path in life upon which I shall tread for my remaining days.
I met Miss Moturam (name changed considering her eating habits, her weight gain stats and to protect her identity) some 6 months ago when she was playing cricket with stress buster ball, in the office. The most jovial person I ever met. She has all the qualities of an angry young Indian woman; angry, because she always stood up to our Neanderthal manager, when nobody else would. She is extremely innocent, pure at heart, beautiful and has a boyfriend! Her zest always made the workplace lively. Through her eyes, the world looked different, not because she applied kohl, but, she had a very caring and gentle approach in life. This sometimes hurt her. And now, I have, by saying some mean things about her. Her ‘Gyan’ on life, sometimes boring but significant nonetheless, will always remain close to my heart. I will always thank her for being there for me. Rather, like she would have said, ‘Shukriya.’ Keep Pune police always on toes. Dress to kill.
I met Misses Dhapan (in Marathi, Dhapan means spectacles. Again name changed considering her foresight, err, farsightedness and to protect her identity) in cab to office some 8 months ago. Thence began our journey of brotherhood. She is a tomboy whom I consider a bro rather than a sis. Despite being a tomboy, she is immensely emotional and a tender human being. She would cry me a river, but in installments (small outbursts every few days). She took my care as not just a sis or mom would, but like a granny would. She behaved like one sometimes as well. She is married and has the cutest baby girl one has ever seen. She still looks like a 20 year old though. Sincerely, Now that I have left the job, she is the one person I miss the most including her crazy antics whilst driving. Hope to see you smiling, always.
I met the Nawab of Anand Nagar (again name changed considering his attitude and to protect my neck) countless times in the recreation room of our office. Only one line to describe him, ‘Master of All, jack of none.’ The brotherhood increased manifold further to countless beer binges that we invoked, resulting sometimes in laugh riots or in debates. Often, his arguments proving stronger; the guy is an epitome of genuine friendship. He is a prudent advisor with a sense of humor to reckon with, of course, not as cool as mine though. His love for life and people preceded his own self and that sometimes made him vulnerable. He thus never removed that mask of attitude he wore. Live life King Size Bro, the way you always have.
These three people’s teachings and preaching have made me wiser, an understanding human being. The basic dual nature of life: Live and Love unfolded before me and new dimensions of hope and faith are now engraved in my Heart. Memories of times spent together, moments cherished; will remain with me, forever. The ending like always was tearfull but joyous nonetheless.
Not(e) by the Author:
This is a work of fiction by someone weighing 80 Kgs of pure fats and having myopic vision. Any resemblance to people alive or incidents is either purely co-incidental, or probably, stemmed from my various split personalities. Any resemblance to people dead is to be pardoned. I see Dead people too (My place in pune was totally haunted).
I got a job in a BPO, and thus began my journey in April 2007.
In the last one year that I have worked here, I was about to find myself but these rotating shifts, crush over a lady colleague in the office taught me to be patient, rather, a Heart patient. Use your metaphorical sense, backed by knowledge gained from countless bollywood movies and voila!
Then came the biggest twist in my life; Boss there is always a twist, that even my allegedly strong self could not deal with. I came to terms with my past and present and realized my virtues and vices. I decided that these traits of mine should be etched in my heart and on my body forever. I got a tattoo of dragon and unicorn fighting - the dragon losing, done. Both animals symbolized opposite qualities that all humans possess except for one of our managers who is still a Neanderthal man. We hope that our good characteristics always overpower our bad ones to evolve us into better human beings. In this sense, my manager has a lot of work to do; not in the office though! Remember the adage ‘Cream riseth to the top,’ well, sometimes, scum does too.
Some advantages of working in an unknown city is, since you live alone, you get to meet new people, mate with new girls (read Ha ha, yeah right) but the icing on the cake is you make friends who just be there for you: in good and bad times. I met three such friends who guided me to a positive path in life upon which I shall tread for my remaining days.
I met Miss Moturam (name changed considering her eating habits, her weight gain stats and to protect her identity) some 6 months ago when she was playing cricket with stress buster ball, in the office. The most jovial person I ever met. She has all the qualities of an angry young Indian woman; angry, because she always stood up to our Neanderthal manager, when nobody else would. She is extremely innocent, pure at heart, beautiful and has a boyfriend! Her zest always made the workplace lively. Through her eyes, the world looked different, not because she applied kohl, but, she had a very caring and gentle approach in life. This sometimes hurt her. And now, I have, by saying some mean things about her. Her ‘Gyan’ on life, sometimes boring but significant nonetheless, will always remain close to my heart. I will always thank her for being there for me. Rather, like she would have said, ‘Shukriya.’ Keep Pune police always on toes. Dress to kill.
I met Misses Dhapan (in Marathi, Dhapan means spectacles. Again name changed considering her foresight, err, farsightedness and to protect her identity) in cab to office some 8 months ago. Thence began our journey of brotherhood. She is a tomboy whom I consider a bro rather than a sis. Despite being a tomboy, she is immensely emotional and a tender human being. She would cry me a river, but in installments (small outbursts every few days). She took my care as not just a sis or mom would, but like a granny would. She behaved like one sometimes as well. She is married and has the cutest baby girl one has ever seen. She still looks like a 20 year old though. Sincerely, Now that I have left the job, she is the one person I miss the most including her crazy antics whilst driving. Hope to see you smiling, always.
I met the Nawab of Anand Nagar (again name changed considering his attitude and to protect my neck) countless times in the recreation room of our office. Only one line to describe him, ‘Master of All, jack of none.’ The brotherhood increased manifold further to countless beer binges that we invoked, resulting sometimes in laugh riots or in debates. Often, his arguments proving stronger; the guy is an epitome of genuine friendship. He is a prudent advisor with a sense of humor to reckon with, of course, not as cool as mine though. His love for life and people preceded his own self and that sometimes made him vulnerable. He thus never removed that mask of attitude he wore. Live life King Size Bro, the way you always have.
These three people’s teachings and preaching have made me wiser, an understanding human being. The basic dual nature of life: Live and Love unfolded before me and new dimensions of hope and faith are now engraved in my Heart. Memories of times spent together, moments cherished; will remain with me, forever. The ending like always was tearfull but joyous nonetheless.
Not(e) by the Author:
This is a work of fiction by someone weighing 80 Kgs of pure fats and having myopic vision. Any resemblance to people alive or incidents is either purely co-incidental, or probably, stemmed from my various split personalities. Any resemblance to people dead is to be pardoned. I see Dead people too (My place in pune was totally haunted).
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Mein Alag Tha...
Spare my hindi here folks...this is an emotionally touching adaptation of Frankfinn Institute Advertisement that keeps running on the T.V and pestering normal people how being different and being Air host/Hostess is so cool...
Mein Alag tha...Mein Udna chahta tha...
Bachpan mein school mein bhis kuch khaas padhai nahi karta tha, pur mein jan-ta tha ki mein ALag tha...kyunki mein Udna chahta tha.
College mein grace marks sey pass hua, papa nein jaan khali...pur main jan-ta tha ki mein Alag tha - Mein Udna chahta tha...
Phir ek din mujhe kuch like minded dost mile, jo sab jan-te the ki woh alag the, woh sab Udna chahte the...Aur hum sab milke GANJA phukte the...
Aaj samajh mein aya hey ki mein alag nahi tha...pur aaj bhi UD zaroor raha hoon...
Mein Alag tha...Mein Udna chahta tha...
Bachpan mein school mein bhis kuch khaas padhai nahi karta tha, pur mein jan-ta tha ki mein ALag tha...kyunki mein Udna chahta tha.
College mein grace marks sey pass hua, papa nein jaan khali...pur main jan-ta tha ki mein Alag tha - Mein Udna chahta tha...
Phir ek din mujhe kuch like minded dost mile, jo sab jan-te the ki woh alag the, woh sab Udna chahte the...Aur hum sab milke GANJA phukte the...
Aaj samajh mein aya hey ki mein alag nahi tha...pur aaj bhi UD zaroor raha hoon...
Monday, March 26, 2007
God said, ‘Let there be Light,’ F.M retorted, ‘Let it be taxed,’ M.S.E.B added, ‘Let it be cut during the peak hours.’
One morning, I was getting ready for going to work…usual week day. I offered my prayers and sat for breakfast.
Suddenly, God appeared from the thin air and asked, ‘Child, tell me, are you happy with your country?’
‘I very much am God. I get electricity for 20 hours, water for 5 hours a day and good roads for 6 whole months in a year. The most important thing is - I was born in Free India 26 years ago and our country has been free for almost 60 years. What more could somebody ask for?'
‘God, if you don’t mind, I am getting late for work and I would not want to loose my incentives. Furthermore, my boss would not believe the excuse that I was chatting with you.‘
‘Child, don’t worry about that, God said. I’ll take care of it. Come; show me the things that you love about your country.‘
‘God, I love almost everything about my country. The only flip side is that buying a house in Mumbai is probably more difficult than securing a place in Heaven.‘
‘Since in this lifetime, I would not be able to achieve the former, I was wondering if you could put up a word for me and my family with St. Peter for the latter. We are ready to offer 14% more prayers in a month than we do now, every month, for the next 5 years. ‘Child, your offer is subject to Earthly & Heavenly risks,’ I will go through your offer carefully before accepting, God said.’
The Car cranked and I and God were soon zooming on “The Expressway” to Pune. God marveled at the sight of his own creations (beautiful brown mountains, lush green trees, vast farmlands) and the sub-contractor’s – The Expressway.
We were passing through a tunnel and God asked me to stop there. I argued with God that it was not allowed to stop in tunnels and/or on Expressway. But, God again assured me that he would take care of it and hence I obliged, though I was skeptical about how God would bargain with the Traffic Police, if we were caught, i.e.
God started laughing with joy and said ‘Child, look at the mouth of the tunnel, this proves my theory – "There is light at the end of the tunnel."
Suddenly, God appeared from the thin air and asked, ‘Child, tell me, are you happy with your country?’
‘I very much am God. I get electricity for 20 hours, water for 5 hours a day and good roads for 6 whole months in a year. The most important thing is - I was born in Free India 26 years ago and our country has been free for almost 60 years. What more could somebody ask for?'
‘God, if you don’t mind, I am getting late for work and I would not want to loose my incentives. Furthermore, my boss would not believe the excuse that I was chatting with you.‘
‘Child, don’t worry about that, God said. I’ll take care of it. Come; show me the things that you love about your country.‘
‘God, I love almost everything about my country. The only flip side is that buying a house in Mumbai is probably more difficult than securing a place in Heaven.‘
‘Since in this lifetime, I would not be able to achieve the former, I was wondering if you could put up a word for me and my family with St. Peter for the latter. We are ready to offer 14% more prayers in a month than we do now, every month, for the next 5 years. ‘Child, your offer is subject to Earthly & Heavenly risks,’ I will go through your offer carefully before accepting, God said.’
The Car cranked and I and God were soon zooming on “The Expressway” to Pune. God marveled at the sight of his own creations (beautiful brown mountains, lush green trees, vast farmlands) and the sub-contractor’s – The Expressway.
We were passing through a tunnel and God asked me to stop there. I argued with God that it was not allowed to stop in tunnels and/or on Expressway. But, God again assured me that he would take care of it and hence I obliged, though I was skeptical about how God would bargain with the Traffic Police, if we were caught, i.e.
God started laughing with joy and said ‘Child, look at the mouth of the tunnel, this proves my theory – "There is light at the end of the tunnel."
‘I agree God, I said. But there is also toll booth at the end of it. Further, two wheelers, three wheelers, bullock carts, cycles and jay walkers are not allowed.’
‘I hope you have Indian currency for the toll as nobody is allowed to pass for free on the Expressway and you are only God, not a Politician.’
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Municipality culling Dogs. Police taking care of Humans.
Various sections of people from the entire country criticized the actions of Bruhat Bangalore Mahanagar Palike (BBMP) recently.
The BBMP had culled a bunch of waiters of a certain hotel for they had mauled three children, one of them, the CM’s son; the reason – children demanded food after the closing hours. Dogs from various areas were also killed for they had mauled small children, however, Dogs of Bangalore have been unfortunate in this regards – neither contraceptives nor sterilization; no food or life!
The central government has also come down heavily upon the Karnataka State government for its’ utter callous approach at curbing the Dog and Hindu menace – as recently seen in Bangalore mauling incidences and Mangalore riots. The top officials of the Karnataka government, on condition of anonymity, told our reporters that there have been direct orders to put to sleep, both these factions. All the money, thus saved, is to be used for upliftment of the minorities and families of the victims of dog bites, if they are minorities i.e.
All the resources, natural or human are to be claimed by the minorities first, said the P.M.
No party or any other news media, other than the Animal Welfare board, RSS and our news channel praised the efforts of Gujarat government for effectively carrying out sterilization of 45000 dogs in the city of Ahmedabad alone, since, such acts of balance by an opposition party was considered a threat to the central motto of – India Poised. The cotton farmers of Vidharbha though, are still poisoning themselves against the backdrop of booming economy and a linear growth in inflation.
The left factions meanwhile praised BBMP, not for they believed in culling of dogs, but because their Chinese comrades asked them to.
The communists further informed that culling humans was also not a bad practice if aesthetically done for pragmatic purposes. Large scale human massacres could also be justified if done for land acquisitions…
I, from the bottom of my heart, give zero Marxs to such innovative policy makers. May god bless them and rest their souls in peace (here, I pay homage to the murdered dogs and the mauled/killed little children of Bangalore).
* All names have been withheld for security reasons; the crimes are of such magnitudes that neither ‘The Bahadurs’ nor ‘The Bhaiyyas’ are willing to guard the witnesses. They have (witnesses) sought protection from Italian Mafia, at a hefty price of course; instead.
The BBMP had culled a bunch of waiters of a certain hotel for they had mauled three children, one of them, the CM’s son; the reason – children demanded food after the closing hours. Dogs from various areas were also killed for they had mauled small children, however, Dogs of Bangalore have been unfortunate in this regards – neither contraceptives nor sterilization; no food or life!
The central government has also come down heavily upon the Karnataka State government for its’ utter callous approach at curbing the Dog and Hindu menace – as recently seen in Bangalore mauling incidences and Mangalore riots. The top officials of the Karnataka government, on condition of anonymity, told our reporters that there have been direct orders to put to sleep, both these factions. All the money, thus saved, is to be used for upliftment of the minorities and families of the victims of dog bites, if they are minorities i.e.
All the resources, natural or human are to be claimed by the minorities first, said the P.M.
No party or any other news media, other than the Animal Welfare board, RSS and our news channel praised the efforts of Gujarat government for effectively carrying out sterilization of 45000 dogs in the city of Ahmedabad alone, since, such acts of balance by an opposition party was considered a threat to the central motto of – India Poised. The cotton farmers of Vidharbha though, are still poisoning themselves against the backdrop of booming economy and a linear growth in inflation.
The left factions meanwhile praised BBMP, not for they believed in culling of dogs, but because their Chinese comrades asked them to.
The communists further informed that culling humans was also not a bad practice if aesthetically done for pragmatic purposes. Large scale human massacres could also be justified if done for land acquisitions…
From each according to their abilities (fertile lands from the farmers) and to each according to their needs (Rs. one lakh car manufacturers and SEZ owners).
I, from the bottom of my heart, give zero Marxs to such innovative policy makers. May god bless them and rest their souls in peace (here, I pay homage to the murdered dogs and the mauled/killed little children of Bangalore).
* All names have been withheld for security reasons; the crimes are of such magnitudes that neither ‘The Bahadurs’ nor ‘The Bhaiyyas’ are willing to guard the witnesses. They have (witnesses) sought protection from Italian Mafia, at a hefty price of course; instead.
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