learning by playing

Odds were against them. Predictions were negative. And hopes, low. But, they proved their might. From the ashes, they rose again like a phoenix.

The Indian cricket team brought the test to a draw unexpectedly today.

Cricket and politics are the two driving forces of the country. Both of them ride on the back of billions of aspirations. And, with the cricket team spinning a triumph tale, it is high time that politics take a cue from their success mantra.

•United we stand, divided we fall. The success streak of Team India testifies this statement. With most of the political alliances breaking off and internal disputes creating drifts within the party, the lesson of team spirit should come handy.

•A leader does not dictate, he inspires. Under the captaincy of a good team leader, each player could contribute to the best of his abilities. So is true for a political leader. Knowing the pulse of the crowd, he should be able to motivate them and keep them bounded.

•The indomitable combination of experience and youthful energy gives an edge to the team. May the vigour of the young and wisdom of the old come together in the Indian political arena too.

However, the learning is not one sided. Even the politicians have lessons to teach the cricketers. And, that is the never- say- die- spirit. Be it any number of criminal cases, sentences, party disputes or old age, our politicians NEVER say die.

Be it a no- confidence motion or a follow on, one will cling on.

How zz thaaaaaat?

seasons in politics

Come rain or shine, our political parties never shy away from their ‘work’.

They are like seasons, who never fail to come. And, when they do, they make us sweat, they make us wet and they make us shiver.

I have always thought that our political parties bear a striking resemblance to the three seasons.

The prickly BJP Summer, for us, is mangoes, ice creams, lassis and vacations. BJP had its own sunny days when it had leaders like Vajpayee.But, along with the Alphonsos and Cornettos comes the chubhti, jalti garmi, loo, pasina and load sheddings. Their aggression is as strong as the heat and their lack of unity as irritating as the power failures. Their religious ideologies are like the death blows of the loo.

The floody Third Front Monsoon is a respite from the exhaustive summers. So they said about the Third Front.Since the front is formed of ‘weird’ combinations, the probability of thunderous outpours is more. (The thunders are sure to be loud. Thanks to Mayawati.)But, it seems the mushy romantic season will turn into a muddy disaster. The downpour can happen anytime. And make sure you don’t get struck by the lightning.
Rain rain go away
Never show your face again!!!

The icy Congress Apples are healthy and cherries are bright. So are Manmohan Singh and Rahul Gandhi. Also, the moderate ideology of Congress is as cosy as the warmth of the pleasant winter sunshine. But, the other ‘leaders’ of the party might get a frostbite as the Gandhi family never makes way for others. The hazy vision of the leadership reminds you of the chilly foggy mornings.

The awaited spring
“If winter comes can spring be far behind.” May Shelley’s words come true. What India needs today is a party as productive as spring. Let it bring the optimism, vigour and brightness the season stands for.

letter to mantriji

Mantriji,
Parliament,
New Delhi.

Dear Mantriji,
I am a garib aadmi, saab. I have come to the city to earn some paisa. But, now I am in aspataal. Daactor saab said that I have broken my bones. I had fallen in an open manhole. And here, I lie on a bench waiting for the sister to give me my dawaai. Everyone is very good, but a little busy. Isliye, noone has come to attend me.

That day when I fell into the hole, I had to go for a job. So I thought of starting the day with a dubki in the Yamuna. I parted the lump of poly bags and garlands in the water to take a dip. But when I came up, there was a kele ka chilka on my head.

I knew that the day was going to be bad.So I was very careful on the streets as I started.

I had a narrow escape in the beginning, when a huge blue colour bus came towards me raging like a pagal saand. May be it was trying to chase the red light.In this confusion, I jumped sidewards; but, surprisingly I did not land on the earth. I felt like I was pulled down into the pataal lok.

Next when I opened my eyes, I found myself in this aspataal.

Na Yamuna gandi hoti, na mere sar pe chilka girta, nahi meri taang tootti.Mere saath jo hua so hua. Lekin, ab aap hi sochiye. If everyday poor fellows like me keep breaking their legs, what will happen of India? Everyone will be go blind, deaf or lame. Now, everything is in your hands. Please clean the Yamuna to save our country.
(P.S. If you get time, also close the hole and do ask the bull driver not to go crazy.)

Love,
Common man

Stars in Politics!

Twinkle twinkle little star
After elections where you are
Down below the earth u lie
Like a black hole in the political pie!

The election season is on. And the stars have started appearing on the political horizon.

While SP is projecting Sanju baba as their Great Bear, Congress has Raju and Azhar as their Orion and Pole star.

But, their shine does not last for long; they fade out soon. Their reel image does not correspond with their real ones. Once they get elected, their interest in politics seems to vanish.

Hero No.1 entered the arena with a big bang defeating a heavy weight like Ram Naik. But, five years later, his performance as an MP was nothing more than a zero.

When Sidhu entered the political pitch, the audience cheered for a six. He scored a duck when he landed up in a murder case.

The Garam Dharam proved to be very Naram to his voters as he failed to show up in his constituency after his victory.

Stardom is no criteria to vote for; it is a mere mirage. Let us not be fooled by their glitz and glamour and give more importance to their credentials. Let’s make this vote count.

To Mantriji, with love

Mantriji,
Parliament,
New Delhi.

Dear Mantriji,
I am a garib aadmi, saab. I have come to the city to earn some paisa. But, now I am in aspataal. Daactor saab said that I have broken my bones. I had fallen in an open manhole. And here, I lie on a bench waiting for the sister to give me my dawaai. Everyone is very good, but a little busy. Isliye, noone has come to attend me.
That day when I fell into the hole, I had to go for a job. So I thought of starting the day with a dubki in the Yamuna. I parted the lump of poly bags and garlands in the water to take a dip. But when I came up, there was a kele ka chilka on my head. I knew that the day was going to be bad.
So I was very careful on the streets as I started. I had a narrow escape in the beginning, when a huge blue colour bus came towards me raging like a pagal saand. May be it was trying to chase the red light.
In this confusion, I jumped sidewards; but, surprisingly I did not land on the earth. I felt like I was pulled down into the pataal lok.
Next when I opened my eyes, I found myself in this aspataal.
Na Yamuna gandi hoti, na mere sar pe chilka girta, nahi meri taang tootti.
Mere saath jo hua so hua. Lekin, ab aap hi sochiye. If everyday poor fellows like me keep breaking their legs, what will happen of India? Everyone will be go blind, deaf or lame.
Now, everything is in your hands. Please clean the Yamuna to save our country. (P.S. If you get time, also close the hole and do ask the bull driver not to go crazy.)

Love,
Common man

From Ambassadors to Nano

Vvvrrrrroooooooom…… Nano hits the road.

With this "lakhtakiya" car, India has arrived on the global highway.

It was the Fiats and the Ambassadors that drove the bureaucracy in the 60s’. But this century belongs to the Nano - where the common man is at the steering of change.

Four ways in which NANO mirrors the young India:

Innovation- the concept of a one-lakh car was ridiculed, until Nano zoomed in. Youngsters today, are also thinking out-of-the-box. Be it off-beat movies, unconventional careers, the young in India are not shying away from experimenting.

Entrepreneurship- there were many risks for the Nano, but through sheer hard work and conviction it made the impossible possible. So is it for the gen-next. 32-35% of the IIM passouts choose to set up their own business than get a white-collar job.

Global brand- Nano is the new feather in the cap of India Inc. With it India created inflections in the international auto industry for creating the cheapest car. Indians software engineers and doctors have boosted the image of the country.

Political hiccups- the Small Wonder Nano fought battles at Singur and emerged victorious. The new, emerging India, too, is confident of facing challenges and come out unscathed.

Cheers to Nano and the new India!

Every one has an Obama in him/ her

How many times have you preferred to go out for a movie than vote?

How frequently has the thought of standing in a long queue under the burning sun prevnted us from voting?

How often has the ‘one-vote-won't-count’ attitude stopped us from going to the poll booth?

Every vote counts. We should not belittle ourselves. And neither the influence of our presence to run the system. Each individual is an agent of change.

Obama is every common man.

His strength was his conviction in his own self. He too started off as a community organizer. His first step was small and full of challenges. But that did not deter him from taking it. He recognised the power of the individual. He had faith in himself.

And for India to change this conviction has to be imbibed into us. Each of us has an Obama hidden in us. All we need is to discover him.

Indian Politics goes high-tech!

Has Advani been staring at you off late too often from your computer screens?

Is the CPI(M) website painting your monitor red?

Is your inbox getting bombarded with too many SMSs from political parties?

If this is not enough, be prepared for the 600 internet kiosks that the Congress is planning to come up with.

Impressive!

Our politicians, irrespective of age, have all of a sudden become advanced. Unfortunately, this advancement is limited only to technology. Ideologically, they still seem to be primitive. Or else, why should they still play politics based on religion, caste, region and gender?

Why should they call women going out at night adventurous and criticise them for wearing lipstick? Why should they chase off Bihari bhaiyyas and create a state exclusively for the Marathi Manoos? Why should they get scared at night on seeing Karimullah and Nazarullah in a country where every party claims to be “secular”.

The politicians have turned tech- savvy to woo the youth. But, what they do not seem to understand is that, they need to become ideo-savvy to impress them. Same is true for the new breed of politicians as well. Youth is considered to be the future of a nation. Apart from being tech-driven, they have to propel revolutionary ideas too.

Polit-eeeeks!

What will a cross between a bhelpuri and ice-cream taste like?

How will the friendship between Mogambo and Gabbar Singh be like?

What will a duet between Himesh and a crow sound like?

Weird combinations, aren’t they?But haven’t we seen weirder combinations in the petty party politics of our country?

Coalition governments in India, off late, have been like compromising combo packs. Once the pack is opened, the surprise is a shock for the customer.

When parties with strikingly clashing ideologies come together to form alliances, the voter feels cheated and disillusioned. Governance becomes secondary. To maintain the magic number becomes the priority of the government. Decision-making becomes difficult. Thanks to the internal bickering of the varying party policies.

In this political khichdi, the one who loses is the common man.

PM ’09

The teacher writes on the blackboard.

“What will you do if you become the next Prime Minister of India?”

Before he takes any name, hyper-excited Maangta Banner-ji leaps up from her chair.

Maangta- Saar… Phast af all, I ll declare the second Monday of every month the National Strike Day. Speaking below 100 decibles bhill bhe made a panishable offence. Chakkas bhill be used for making garlands. I bhud parsonally prephar those of Nano. I bhud also-

Paayawati (furious, pulls Maangta’s choti and makes her sit) - Bahut bol li. Ab hamari baari hai. My birthday national holiday banega. I will introduce a Paaya Birthday Tax for the compulsory countrywide celebrations. Pink will be the official colour. Aur gali gali main humara marble ka putla lagega. Aur har state main ek PaayaDham bhi hoga aur…

Hearing the commotion, Daudeghoda, the back bencher wakes up. Rubbing his eyes, he says:

Daudeghoda (yawning) - Namma sleep madtai diya. But if you ask me, I will make sleeping the national sport. Zzzz…..

Ramvaani (confidently) – I will rename all the bridges as Ram, Lakshmana and Hanumaan Setu. Besides, I will patronize saffron cult-ivation and make it a compulsory ingredient of every dish. Bouquets and garlands will be made only of lotus.

Ammalolita (with a smile) – Under my rule chappal will be the national symbol. Special tax benefits will be given to the chappal industry. I will donate chappals and Kaanjeevarams to the poor.

Shared Power (drily) – All govt. officials under me shall become men in dark blue. And I, the PM, will wear the umpire’s uniform.

Maagta suddenly springs from her seat and yells, “CHUP KORO!!!”
Paaywati aims a punch at Maangta. Ramvaani too gets excited and joins the fight. Daudaghda opens an eye, and again falls asleep.

Chaos prevails as the teacher runs out of the class.
And chaos prevails in our country too!

The underpriviledged Salims

“Mumbai is at the centre of the world, bhai! And I am at the centre of the centre.”

That’s what Salim of Slumdog Millionaire thought. Salim’s aspirations reflect that of the Indian youth— education, employment and esteem.
Salim was underprivileged. And so are millions of Indians who live in slums and have aspirations similar to Salim’s. India is home to many more underprivileged in form of Asia’s largest slum, Dharavi.For us, they exist only in terms of filth, stench and disease. But we choose to hoodwink their existence, leave alone their aspirations.
Perhaps that is why Salim went the gunway. Most of us are in a better position to face the world than Salim. And we can do our bit to help the unfortunates like Salim.
Wondering how?
While choosing whom to vote, lets spare a thought for the millions of Salims as well. Salims form a large chunk of our population. If their aspirations don’t get the wings to fly how can our country soar high?

Before casting our votes, we need to think, will this guy do his bit to help Salim achieve his aspirations without the latter having to venture into the murky world of crime? Will he get three square meals a day? Will he get adequate education even if he can’t afford to pay for it?

For India to be a super power, each and every individual should get the opportunity to realize his dreams. In the forthcoming elections, vote not just for yourselves, but for the Salims as well.

Here I leave you with Gandhi’s Talisman:
“Whenever you are in doubt... Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man/woman whom you may have seen, and ask yourself, if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him/her. Will he/she gain anything by it? Will it restore him/her to a control over his/her own life and destiny?”

Redefining Holi

Caste. Religion. Gender.

In the forthcoming elections, let us render these words meaningless. It’s time we come together to crush petty, narrow-minded, selfish vote-bank politics.

Holi is here. Let’s celebrate the festival of colours together. Let it not matter what religion you belong to or what your caste is and certainly not what your gender is. Going out in the streets together and painting your neighbourhood bright will send the signal to those twisted-minded politicians that this time around, their selfish propaganda is not going to work.

This time, India is going to vote for its future, instead of being lured by petty propagandas. This Holi, let’s make the collective unity of the Indian masses clear to the politicians.

Happy Holi!

What if it were true?

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining with its full glory.

Children were heading for school.From a distance, one could hear the teachers giving lessons.
Teacher: Let’s revise. A for ?
Amrita: Abduction
Teacher: Very good. B for ?
Saurav: Bomb-blasts
Teacher: Good good. C for ?
Anwesh: C for corruption
Teacher: Well done…

It was election time. Parties were in search for suitable candidates. I picked up a party pamphlet of the Indian Bhrashtachar Party (IBP). It read:
Eligibility: Education- Paanchvi-fail
Extra-curricular- Boxing, eve-teasing, kidnapping
Aim: To make our country the No. 1 in crime and corruption
Age: No bar
Minimum Qualification: Must have been jailed at least twice preferably on murder charges

Afraid, I got up from my sleep. Oh, that was only a nightmare!
What if this turns into a reality?

Let’s take a pledge to vote for the right candidate. Even one vote has the power to change the fate of the nation. To build a prosperous and peaceful country, we need educated and clean politicians. Leaders who are capable of running the country responsibly.

Do we need Gandhi's spectacles to Lead India?

He needed a kick from the British to bring out the sleeping leader in him.
At the age of 24, he led the Satyagraha Movement in South Africa against Apartheid.
How many of us at 24 have voted even once?
For Gandhi it was one kick. For us it has been numerous. Sadly, we have not yet woken up from our slumber.
How many more kicks do we need?
Men & women, young & old, rich & poor, black & white attended his sabhas. They made his dreams their own. He dreamt of a country without corruption, without poverty, without illiteracy.
Have we dared to dream?
60 years have passed. Our country is still fighting corruption, poverty and illiteracy. Terrorism, communalism and crime are growing alarmingly. Gandhi took the initiative to change the system.
When will we take the initiative?

Yes, we need Gandhi’s spectacles. To clear our vision. To envision an India free of vices. A country that is looked at with admiration and respect and not as a land of snake charmers.

How many miles must a man walk down,

before we can call him a man.
How many times must a canon-ball fly,

before they are forever banned.
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind.

Aren't we all.... the same?

And Timmy ‘pooped’. Right in the middle of the park. I went ahead, glad my dog won’t mess the house. Chalta-hai.

I honked at the biker but the bloody traffic light went red. I went ahead. I was late for office. Some kharcha-paani to the cops is any day better than losing a day’s salary.

A movie with my friends is hhhmmmm. But without an advance ticket it is grrrrrrrrrr. I went ahead. What’s the big deal? I can get them in black.

Skimming the newspapers with my dad, I saw the blown up election campaigns. I went ahead and turned the page. “Politicians are all same old shameless, money-minded and corrupt fellows!”

But then aren't we all.... the same?

If yes, it’s time we made amends. Remember the school wala rhyme:

Little drops of water and tiny bits of sand

Make the mighty ocean and the pleasant land. 

Let’s shed our complacency. And take an oath to become responsible citizens of our nation.

Its only we who can bring an attitude change within our nation.