FATHERS AS FIENDS

Daughters have a special bond with their dads. Mothers are left seething out of the equation, and later suitors suffer because they can never measure upto the first man in a girl’s life. This was the credo, reaffirmed by all of us who have either glowed or seen their sisters glow in this unabashedly biased relationship. This was until today morning. Glancing at the paper over my morning coffee I chanced to see the gruesome details of a girl from Mira road,Mumbai being raped by her own father for 9 agonisingly long years. The monster of Mira rd had shattered the idyll. It’s difficult to think of a worse betrayal. The blood of every father’s daughter must run cold to read about the 21 year old who had been continually raped for nine years. A father as perpetrator, a mother as accessory, and a so-called godman not only calling the shots, but pumping in his own dirty bullets as well. How many idols were smashed in that burgeoning outpost of Mumbai suburbia? Everything supposedly sacred was defiled. It’s difficult to think of a worse perversion.

Every daughter who has snuggled into her father, charmed him into submission, had him indulge her every whim to her own delight and her mother’s disapproval, must surely have followed this story in disbelief. The Mira rd incest is not an aberration. It happens everywhere, all the time, as routine as water cuts in summer. Too often, ‘family’ is not the benign unit of protective Mama-Papa and loving uncle-ji, but a whitewashed sepulchre of poisoned innocence. To the curios in the showcase add the skeletons in the closet. Alas, not dead, but jumping out to paw, grope and molest. On a regular basis. The difference at Mira rd was only one of degree, motivation, and the fact that the pustule burst open. This happened only because it reached new depths. When her 15 year old sister was also dragged into this pit, the long suffering girl found the tremulous courage to inform her maternal uncle and her grandmother. So, add one more dimension to this perverse roster. We must be thankful for the doubled evil because that’s what finally led to the end of the sordid tale. And for the small mercy that the girl’s appeal did not typically cite ‘family honour’ to slam the lid back on what was its demonic opposite.

Child sexual abuse by a family member; most often the father himself, extends from the pavement to the penthouse, leaving no economic, educational or ethnic group unstained. It sits there masked in normalcy, like a porn covered in innocent brown paper of a school exercise textbook, like a festively wrapped mithai box swarming with maggots inside. The statistics may be conjecture, but they certainly aren’t damning lies. I had read somewhere that an act of domestic sexual abuse takes place every 7 mins. In this depraved milieu, we must be grateful for the 6 mins of security. And we, who as children had considered our unmolested cocoon to be the unremarkable rule, must now fall on our knees for the blessing of exception. When the parental protector turns predator, every other violation pales by comparision, arguably even turns kosher. The father raped his elder daughter for nine years and, inured, felt no shame in pulling the younger daughter into the sex vortex.

The mother emotionally blackmailed them into submitting not only to him, but also to the instigating tantric. To be fair, she threw herself into the hissing cauldron as well. The parents abandoned their most sublime duty for the sake of mere crass reward. The ‘godman’ had convinced them that this was the divinely ordained route to the father’s business success. The silence of the lambs of Mira rd is deafening. But the current empty din of electoral invective is unlikely to pause and listen. I had read about the German father who kept his daughter in the attic for 20 odd years and even bore two children from her. Back then, I never would have believed something like this happening closer home. Don’t we boast of ancient culture and rich heritage? I guess, these “Monster Dads” thrive everywhere irrespective of geographical, cultural or social differences.

LIFE IN A METRO


Hailing from a metro has its cons! You are expected to be a city slicker who’s sophisticated, socially presentable & with a gift of the gab. Then you meet the other kind – ME!! Of the last 23 years of my stay in the city I’m pretty much an oddball & a social misfit there. I hate the fake accents, the oh-so-glamorous lifestyles & the hustle bustle of the city. Then again, there’s the constant – “Ohh!!...staying in Mumbai and still single?” They just cant comprehend the fact that I’m single. Yes I am, at 23. Is it a crime? Go ahead then, send me to the gallows.

I’ve grown up on a staple diet of movies like – When Harry met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, Gone with the wind & Casablanca(before you brand me the mushy-kind, just for the records, I even watched the usual violence filled sci-fi movies). Believe me, the ‘damsel in distress’ species has ceased to exist and so has the ‘knight in shining armour’. The damsels have been replaced by the mascara covered, eyeliner lined females who bitch, gossip & shop. The knight’s armour has been replaced by the wallet & credit cards. So there are the ‘damsels in mascara’ & ‘Knights with fat wallets’. There’s no place for the third kind.

So, when you end up surrounded by Roadies-loving, alcohol binging 20 something’s(whom you refer to as friends), I feel like a 60 year old grandpa who’s just lost his way from the old age home. And then there’s the flurry of fake accents & flying kisses exchanged to add to my already bag full of worries. Its almost become a habit for me to turn up at a party in a formal shirt & neatly creased trousers(not to mention the inexplicably shiny leather shoes). Then I look around and I’m greeted by the ‘barely hanging of the waist’ jeans, the technicolour shirts & T shirts and a mix & match of what seems like leftover frills from last years Brazil carnival.


Then comes the hair part. I always loved the crew cut ‘coz it left me with less time with the comb. Now I have guy friends who take longer than an hour to get the hair straight – or at odd angles, should I say. I cease to understand the connectivity between a persons hair & his attitude. Does looking like a cross between a human and a porcupine cool? Then, there are the females who are just not content with the hair colour nature endowed them with. I had heard of blondes and brunettes, but streaks of blue, yellow and purple rising from your temples are not something I would be comfortable with.

Another startling revelation hit me hard a couple of months back. A half drunk friend blurted out that his girlfriend thinks I’m gay. Comically I quizzed him for the same. His reply – since I’m still single I ought to be gay! I was stumped! Is it taboo to be single in Mumbai? There is a desperate rush to pick and choose a gf/bf even if that meant ‘Crash & Burn’ a couple of months then on(in some cases a couple of weeks).And God forbid if you are single and a virgin. You risk being labeled gay or impotent. Virginity is no longer the flower that girls & guys alike, preserve for their ‘special someone’. Promiscuity is the ‘in’ thing & losing virginity at the earliest, the craze. Well, I have been sentenced on two charges so far – single and a virgin, and have been found guilty on both accounts. Is this something I should be proud of? Well, my friends think otherwise.

Well I may be running the risk of being labeled a moralistic tightass after this post, but who cares. The phenomena of true love might just exist. After all, hope is what keeps us all alive, isn’t it?

CRITICAL ANALYSIS OF THE CONGRESS LED UPA GOVT


After nearly five years of conspicuous confidence, the UPA govt’s focus on gloom and doom in the year ahead looks debatable. Five years ago, voters rejected the idea of “India Shining”, ushering in a govt that pronmised outcomes as well as a happy balance between high economic growth and social development. Now within kissing distance of yet another general election, it must be asked : has the “dream team” – P Chidambaram and Manmohan Singh really delivered on its promise of equitable development and good governance. I will broadly be covering my views under the following heads –
1. Social & economic sectors.
2. The defence sector.

Social and Economic sectors

India is foing through a most exciting transition. A confluence of good fortune on many fronts has created a range of opportunities for Indians to benefit from. There is a large and constantly increasing section of population of working age combined with low dependency. The monssons haven’t failed for many years running. An ongoing electronic comn and IT revolution is making it possible for individuals, firms & countries to respond rapidly to changing circumstances. Then there is the recognition internationally that India is an important market to invest in, export to and import from. And since the govt had started a process of openness a decade and a half back, many of the markets that were missing in the pre 1991 era are working efficiently enough. Given such conditions, how has this govt been?

Well, quite good on maintenance – and extremely poor on preparing, repairing and creating. As ‘inheritors’ of the “India shining” glory, the UPA govt did a great job of maintaining the sheen. The budget was (atleast initially) kept somewhat in check, macro economic mgmt was decent and minor tinkering continued. Partly because of decent maintenance, India continued to sparkle – tax revenues were looking up like never before, investment spiraled like never before, and it seemed everyone in the world wanted to be in India.

But did the govt build great infrastructure beyond what was already in motion? Did it provide relief for the highly strained environment? Did it do something about meeting the educated manpower shortage – and tackling the poor quality of education in govy schools and other institutions? It did none of this. Instead it set the stage such that all governments will have to give hundreds of thousands of crores in schemes that will not build anything of lasting consequence. Preparing for the future requires building infrastructure. The rural roads scheme was started during the NDA regime – an indubitable fact, for it was not named Rajiv or Indira or Jawaharlal. E-governance remained paper bound. Indian educational institutions cannot hire international faculty – and our doctoral pgmes are in a shambles.

On the environmental front, water levels continued to fall, we continue to discharge tonnes of sewage into our rivers and keepon building coal plants while natural gas lies unused. This govt talked a lot, high minded commissions were set up and provided very well thought out recommendations. But in the end, the govt did zilch. This society and its people need more than just assurances and money consuming programmes. It needs results and the statistics say the story. How is it that such a phenomenally talented group achieve so little? I for one have no answers.



DEFENCE SECTOR

The one million strong Indian Army needs change. And I’m not just referring to the equipment allotted. With the constantly changing war scenario and the fluid geo-political role India plays in the sub continent in particular and Asia in general, the Indian Army is in desperate need of a makeover which involves men, material and mindset. The govt has done little to empower the Defence forces with high quality weapons and equipment. We still continue to buy WW II vintage weapons from our “ally” – Russia. This govt did nothing to improve the situation. Millions of rupees were spent on setting up committee’s and enquiries into the security lapses the country witnessed with bombings in almost all parts of the country. Had that money been utilised to arm the jawans, the casualties could have been reduced.


Another grey area the govt failed miserably to tackle was Naxalism. It continued to breed in the backyards of those very politicians who assured us safety and well being during their political rallies. To add to the woes of the Army, the govt further explored the option of sending in the Army to fight off Naxalism. Already faced with a crunch of officers and few willing to step into the shoes of the aeging veterans, this came as a big setback. Still, it remains to be seen whether this option will be used in sctuals. My heart says, wisdom will prevail.

With volatile neighbours, the Indian Army has been stretched from the length and breadth of the country. The govt tried to lure the young generation by offering the Sixth Pay Commission in general and the MSP in particular. It failed to create a flutter in the college campuses. The serving jawans, NCO’s and JCO’s got a raw deal in the process. The increments did not commensurate to the professional hazard they faced. Discontent amongst the ranks and JCO’s prevails as they go about their job.

The govt yet again showed ‘spineless-ness’ when it failed to retaliate to the terror attacks in Mumbai. The political will was clearly lacking and resignations by the Home minister and Defence minister were dished out. But did it solve the problem? No it didn’t. The ‘economic meltdown’ and ‘international pressure’ were some of the reasons cited by the govt for not pursuing a military action. My question to the ‘wise men’ – Is there ever a perfect time to attack?

Had the same incident occurred in Israel, the outcome would have been more aggressive. Accepted the fact that military action meant bloodshed and economic pressure, but, then aren’t these the situations wherein the ‘sovereignty’ of the state has been attacked? If this isn’t then I’m not sure why we are still stuck up on Kashmir. We might as well gift wrap it and save ourselves some money and lives in the process.

The judiciary was mocked first, then ravaged and ransacked by the pseudo ‘human rights’ activists who defended Afzal Guru. The govt yet again took a backseat and failed to controlthe situation. Result- yet more disappointment for the Indian Army , police and other agencies involved in safe guarding the nation


The moderates(read govt) may view my opinions as illogical, unreasonable and chronic to the overall well being of the nation. My answer to them – If blood has to be shed, then why not let it flow on the battlefield rather than on the streets of Mumbai, Jaipur or Ahmedabad. If difficulties have to be borne then let it be through a war and not because of the constant terror strikes, bandhs and regional divides. But then, this Cong led UPA govt lacked the political will to take such tough decisions lest it affects their vote bank the next time. Isnt it time we realized the folly of our submissive attitude or is another terror strike on Mumbai required to wake the govt from their deep slumber. Food for thought – ‘coz I for one have no answers!

The Commando chronicles!!

It was all over….finished!!After a long ordeal of 44 days(not to mention the excruciatingly longer nights).Days which were filled with grime,dust,sweat(no dearth of that in commando school) and third degree torture. A detailed account of what goes on inside the “school”(also popularly known as Hell in Army parlance) may not be feasible due to the extreme nature of the training and the incapability of the comman man to come to terms with it.But here’s an effort to pen down a li’l of what goes on inside the “Hell”…….

Sunlight drifted through the half open window of the train window as I saw Belgaum station nearing. Involuntarily my heartbeat quickened(yeah…u can call me chicken hearted…but I’m being honest about it). We were frisked away like sum hardcore prisoners from the station itself. Our ranks,pips and medals were the first to go, followed closely by our hair. Wat followed next can best be left to the imagination of the reader. Our rooms were just meant for keeping of the luggage and not for us. The bed in the room was the least utilized amongst the other furniture. Sleep was unheard of in “Hell” and walking was a rare privilege. Food & water were rare commodities and we had to “earn” them(all the commandos will best understand this term of ‘earning’).

Another thing which has long made its impact on us is the “Khooni Nala”.For the uninitiated and the ignorant, it is a sewage tank. I’ll again leave the reader to do the imagining. We were frequent visitors to this not-so-hygienic place, so much so that, we forgot the count after the first 20 times. By the 15th day of our course we had all turned into sleep deprived blood sucking zombies. Our brain’s had long ceased to think rationally and commands were obeyed without an inkling of doubt(even if that meant breaking a few ribs in the process).

But amidst all this gut wrenching training and mind numbing punishments our only solace were the memories of our loved ones back home and the pride of our Battalions who had nominated us to do this course. A lucky few amongst us who had girlfriends took out time to call them up whenever they could and returned afresh for the next session of training. For the rest of us….we just conjured up images of bikini clad babes in Goa(which all of us had planned on visiting on termination of the course). They say, the character of a man is best determined during the worst of conditions. I experienced that in “Hell”….

But I’m happy that we completed the course with some minor bruises and some amount of brain damage(a la Gajini style).Now I’m a proud commando ready to take on the bad guys.I have no fear,no remorse or pity ‘coz as rightly said….

“PAIN IS TEMPORARY BUT PRIDE FOREVER!”

10 Reasons for being a Hopeless Romantic!!!

Knowledge is a tricky thing and I plan to do no harm. But here it goes.

1. The only girls I know are married , cousins , committed or stay in a far off land.

2. The last time a girl smiled at me was on 13 Sep 2008(yeah I remembered the date).It was only later that I realized that my fly was open.


3. My conversation with a girl on the phone :

ME : Hello, wassup??
She : Nothing much…just the regular stuff.
ME : ..and wat else…???
She : nothing yaar…u tell wat else??
ME : nothing here too..
(long pause)
ME : ok then….take care…keep in touch!!
She : bbye!!

4. My scraps to a girl read something like this :

1st week : Hi there!!...watz up??
(no reply)
2nd week : hey there…long time no see!!!
(no reply)
3rd week : hi there… do drop in a scrap sumtime..tc!!
(…still no reply)
4th week : they tell me persistence is the key…so here goes..Hiiii!!!
(….still still no reply)..
….u get the picture right??

5. I’ve never been on a date with a girl. The only time I’ve been out with a girl , we’ve been accompanied with our common friends.

6. I don’t have a girlfriend till date.

7. I don’t have a girls pic as my laptop’s screensaver, mobile’s screen saver or in my wallet.

8. The only time I’ve danced with a girl was in my 4th std for the school function.

9. I’m a social outcast , an oddball when it comes to relationships.

10. I’m too lazy to send fwd msgs!!!....


Note : The views held here are solely of the writer and do not resemble him or any other person living or dead in his vicinity. The writer is very much sane and his sexual orientation is in the right spot (bottomline : He’s straight). Any comments pouring sympathy are unsought for.

AGONY UNCLE

Why is it that so many of us end up with a person who is completely wrong for us? Let’s dissect the problem scientifically. The girl seemed amazing enough when you started out, right? So what is it that now makes you want to sock her in the eye whenever she is within a 5 kilometer radius?

Oh I know, she was just sooo cute back when! Her cute smile would light up your day and her tantrums would make you go weak in your knees while she always played with her hair when she talked.And now she is just so irritating! She laughs like a bimbo at the most irrelevant jokes, her tantrums make you want to strangle her and her fiddling with the hair is such a turn off. Yetch!
A rational reason for this could be that we rush in headlong without grokking the situation. No, it’s not an old wives’ tale.

Just imagine, you are all worked up and your sympathetic nervous system is on overdrive. Your pupils are perpetually dilated and you look at the world as if through a soft focus lens, with all the jagged edges blurred out. All capacity for rational thought goes right out the window. Is it any wonder then that the person you have a crush on seems most enchanting and perfectly perfect?

But how long can this precarious phase last?

A couple of months down the lane the endorphin induced high peters off and all the kinks you found so endearing in the person can now be seen for what they truly are. Six months and they begin to grate on your nerves. Throw in a couple of weeks and you are now wondering what in heaven’s name were you thinking!A crush usually runs its course over four months (to a maximum of one year if you are the really soppy sort. Anything longer than that and you might want to consider making an appointment with your family psychiatrist to discuss obsessive compulsive disorder). This process of course, takes half the time if you strike up a relationship with the object of your infatuation. For the simple reason that that would involve being bright eyed about slave labour.(unless you are one of the rare species that are cool with me drinking with my buddies, don’t mind the occassional pot-smoking sessions I have with friends, love the slanging matches we have over football and rate Prison Break & Mean Machines over the OC and Bold & the Beautiful.) (You are?! Erm... are you straight? May I have your phone number?).

Now, this dude/dame you have a crush on could be a genuine A1 sweetheart with a heart of gold, an infinite improbability drive and the works, but you can’t really rule out the possibility of their being cold, calculating slave drivers who can’t tell people from disposable diapers.(you are incapable of rational thought, remember?)

All I’m saying is that if lady luck never quite liked the shape of your ears it might not be such a bad idea to consider the situation before going on your knees to profess undying love.
Which of course, is useless advice since you are incapable of rational thought, but anyhow.

p.s. :By saying all this I do not intend to sound disillusioned or disgruntled. The ‘true love’ phenomenon might just exist in spite of the superior smirks with which we settle the issue. This could of course be entirely due to the fact that I’m an agnostic and not an atheist; a point of view that isn’t limited to religion alone. Anyhow, we might as well keep room for the possibility, in which case I suggest the contingency plan be to not waste time making contingency plan.

Drunkipidea

“The hard part about being a bartender is figuring out who's drunk and who's just stupid”
- Richard Braunstein


Any bartender worth his Bloody Mary should be able to distinguish between the aforementioned categories. The hard part lies in telling apart the various categories of drunks. Now the behavior of a drunk generally has precious little to do with his or her sober avatar. For example, don't be surprised to see your normally stony-faced tough guy friend gaze around benevolently with a dreamy smile and say "I love you guys" after he's consumed 300ml of his favourite beverage. He may just be a sentimentalist. Here's a comprehensive guide that could potentially make the lives of bartenders a lot easy.

The Sentimentalist:
Generally known to get in touch with his softer side when under the influence, the sentimentalist will talk about his deepest feelings with utmost abandon, Much like if he were reclining on the shrink's couch. His some semblance of a conversation may range from his ex girlfriends to the snobby cute face residing in his colony.Similar to a spiller, but not quite as dangerous.


The Repeater:
As the name suggests, this species may repeat sentences, (or even songs in some cases), without realising it, and possibly with lengthy pauses between repeats.A conversation with such a specimen may proceed somewhat like this:
Somewhat Sober: "Dude, are you drinking?"
Two quarters down: "Yeah, of course i am!"
(5 minutes later)
Two quarters down: "Yeah, of course i am!"
(5 minutes later)
Two quarters down: "Yeah, of course i am!


The Aggressor:
Exhibits (normally unnatural) violent behaviour when in a drunken stupor.Likely to pick a fight even with the bouncer. Which, by the way, is normally not a very good idea.
Aggressor1 + Aggressor2 -> Drunken Brawl
Aggressor1 + Bouncer -> Bouncer
An aggressor and a foulmouth is NOT a good combination.

The FoulMouth:
If you are under the age of eighteen, please take precautions to see that your eyes and ears are tightly shut when this species is in his/her element. The consequences could be serious.

The Feeler:
If you ever doubted the sexuality of your friend, this could very well be the time to confirm those suspicions. Common symptoms are: befriending strangers of the same sex (generally fellow Feelers, for they have great affinity) by establishing initial contact physically, rather than verbally, followed by a very uncomfortable looking intimate conversation.

The Spiller:
This species is probably the most dangerous of them all. When inebriated to a fair degree, a spiller will begin talking openly about everything that he/she is not supposed to. Secrets shall be revealed. The truth shall be told. All hail the spiller, the overlord of all drunks.

The Entertainer:
If you ever thought that the entertainment business was out of real talent you should see this species in his element.His acts may range from stand up comedy to a sing-and-dance performance.He’s mostly harmless but may turn into a foulmouth or an agressor if adequate support is not garnered from the “audience”.Sometimes his parameters of “adequate support” may exceed a full house Bill Cosby Show or a live Guns & Roses performance.As a ground rule this species mostly houses people with stage fright and sagging confidence levels.


The Robot:
This is the rarest of all species. The Robot's behaviour does not change even under the most acutely alcoholic circumstances. This is the guardian (and sometimes designated driver) of all species.

Note: A drunk may fall under any number of categories simultaneously.
“A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts” - unknown

MUMBAI for Dummies

The eight point guide to enriching your Mumbai experience:

1. When looking to imbibe the true essence of Mumbai, it is best for one to look out for a couple of local low-lifes to show you around. Preferably ones equipped with transportation, gatorade and a morbid sense of humour. Once they're done with you, Mumbai's ugly underbelly will never have looked as good.

2. Travelling around Mumbai is a stress-free experience. There are a few rules to follow though, to ensure your own safety, and that of other's.
First rule: Never hesitate when looking to switch lanes, or you may confuse fellow motorists and cause an accident.
Second Rule: Try not to hit anything.

3. Are you the sort that doesn't fit in? Do you ever wonder if there's anyone out there who's as freakishly weird as you? If the answer to these questions is 'yes' (or if you're fond of yak cheese and coffee cream cake), then Kyani Bakery is the place for you. It is here that one may talk about sex, drugs and rock n' roll freely without the guy at the other table casting suspicious glances in your direction. Well, maybe not rock n' roll. But...you get the picture.

4. Mumbai has no amusement parks in the real sense.Esselworld and the likes ceased to be amusement parks when I was 12. However, if you're the thrill seeking variety, you may just enjoy speeding along the one-way Western Express Highway in the opposite direction. This may not evoke too many reactions from passers-by, but is a fun experience nonetheless. And if really adventurous, one may try the same exercise during the hours that there’s a landslide during monsoons on the Western Express Highway and it is choc-a-bloc. Direction is immaterial in this case.

5. Do you love shopping for clothes? For the latest in high fashion, do visit the road side fashion plaza that adorns the wall outside Bandra station.

6. It is not uncommon for tourists in Mumbai to be unable to come to terms with some of the city's quirks. The consequences are known to be serious in some cases. So as a word of caution, when anything that you see or hear seems inexplicable, take a deep breath, and say aloud, "This Is Mumbai" (TIM)

7. If u spot a few gun totting guys spraying bullets don’t panic, just lie down and pretend to be dead. Resume your journey once they have left. This might just be yet another terror attack on the city.

8. If you are the macho kind and want to test your masculinity the 2030 hrs Virar fast is the perfect train for you. If you come back alive I’ll dish out a few more tips. Till then….Bon Voyage!!!

These few lines are a reflection of the apathy of the general public towards our hardships & the apathy of the government as well!!


I hear, we have crossed the sixtieth year,
Standing guard without any fear,
Another day in the desert sun,
Or a night at height, with a freezing gun,
Tell me my India "What I am worth."
For the Battles and Wars that I fight,
Never asking which one is right,
From Dawn to Dusk and then to Dawn,
Your Bishop, Your Knight Your Eternal Pawn,
Tell me my India "What I am worth."
While you fill your coffers today,
Wondering where and how to make,
Another fortune, another buy,
Your aspirations are now touching the Sky,
Tell me my India" what I am worth."
You make a mention on your political line,
Come to my post, wine and dine,
Then run to your stock, while I stand your guard,
Killing and dying but still fighting hard,
Tell me my India" what I am worth."
The other day I was on TV too,
You came up to me with your educated crew,
Told me to speak cos you seemed to care,
Wrote your story stripped me bare.
I was so naive I didn't know,
For you it was the nine o'clock show,
The country wants to hear some line,
Before they sleep, knowing they are fine,
Tell me my India" what I am worth."
My Men tell me, that they are strong,
Would fight for their country, for all that's wrong,
While I tell them to stand and fight,
You ignore my existence, my very right,
Tell me my India" what I am worth."
I thought I would tell my children in time,
How I fought for this country, this love of mine,
I wonder, if I should mention it though,
Don't want them embarrassed, while they start to grow,
Tell me my India" what I am worth."
I was your ambition, your child hood dream,
Your Pilot, Your Sailor your Jawan in green,
Where did we part as friends,
our ways I never let you down a single day,
Tell me my India" what I am worth."
Why do I still serve you?
How you play with us, did you ever see?
At Seven, I had decided what I wanted to be;
I would serve you to the end,All these boundaries I would defend.
Now you make me look like a fool,
When at Seventeen and just out of school;
Went to the place where they made 'men out of boys'
Lived a tough life …sacrificed a few joys…
In those days, I would see my 'civilian' friends,
Living a life with the fashion trends;
Enjoying their so called 'College Days'
While I sweated and bled in the sun and haze…
But I never thought twice about what where or why
All I knew was when the time came, I'd be ready to do or die.
At 21 and with my commission in hand,
Under the glory of the parade and the band,
I took the oath to protect you over land, air or sea,
And make the supreme sacrifice when the need came to be.
I stood there with a sense of recognition,
But on that day I never had the premonition,
that when the time came to give me my due,
You'd just say,' What is so great that you do?'
Long back you promised a well to do life;
And when I'm away, take care of my wife.
You came and saw the hardships I live through,
And I saw you make a note or two,
And I hoped you would realise the worth of me;
but now I know you'll never be able to see,
Because you only see the glorified life of mine,
Did you see the place where death looms all the time?
Did you meet the man standing guard in the snow?
The name of his newborn he does not know...
Did you meet the man whose father breathed his last?
While the sailor patrolled our seas so vast?
You still know I'll not be the one to raise my voice
I will stand tall and protect you in Punjab, Himachal and Thois.
But that's just me you have in the sun and rain,
For now at Twenty three, you make me think again;
About the decision I made, eight years back!!

SWIGGIN’ JANES

With drinking no longer taboo for middle class urban Indian women, they’re imbibing it with much spirit drinking! “I love dancing when I’m drinking! Dancing when you are sober is just not the same!” exclaimed a female friend of mine. Another chirped “I love how the music gets into you,and your body sort of sways with the music. Drinking makes me happy,chatty and uninhibited.” These friends of mine are one of the thousands of urban middle class Indian women who head to a bar a couple of times every week,to wind down with a drink after a hard day’s work,or pass the night in a hedonistic blur of potent cocktails and shots. Fuelled with their new financial independence and the increasing social tolerance of women’s drinking, more urban women are drinking than before. They might begin their drinking careers with innocuous-tasting Baileys and breezers;comforting the sweet confections which, nevertheless, contain hard spirits. But they soon move on to undisguised and unabashedly stiffer drinks-whisky,vodka,gin.

What’s even more appaling is, more than half the number of women who drink are “binge drinking” – putting the drinks away as fast and furiously as their male counterparts. At most parties, when everybody agrees that one’s level of merriment is measured in direct proportion with the number of drinks they’ve downed, binge drinking becomes almost a social obligation. It’s a daunting challenge to persistenly sidestep your hosts’ outraged cries of “Where’s your drink?” Neither does it win you any admirers. Another female colleague of mine has reserved her most scathing contempt for teetotalers. “Why would you come to a pub and then not drink? That’s boring!” she declares. “You risk being labelled a moralistic tightass, unable to relax. At such parties and get-togethers, sober people don’t fit in.”
It isn’t the same environment anymore, not by any stretch of the imagination. It’s a world where the spectacle of a tipsy woman tottering on high heels isn’t confined to a Bollywood allegory of fallen virtue, but a sight so common now that it no longer raises an eyebrow. Where girls nursing pounding hangovers outdo one another with tales of how cataclysmically ‘wasted” they got the previous night. Where the mid-week ‘Ladies night’ orgy of free cocktails has become the riguer in any watering hole aspiring to be the next it-bar. And with a quarter of the Indian alcohol industry’s 15 % annual market growth being fuelled by women,liquor companies are constantly diversifying their arsenal to make sure women don’t stray away from the bar. Advertising their wares might be banned, but this does not stop them from sponsoring exactly the sorts of events that attract hip young women - rock concerts,club nights,parties-to sample newly launched liqueurs,breezers and pre-packaged shots. For the increasing number of women with the social sanction and disposable incomes to have access to this beguiling array of booze,it’s hard to stop at just one or two.

Well, it’s a strange world we live in these days and even stranger the people we interact with. But I guess the men folk will agree that there’s nothing more sexy than a woman sippin’ on a drink in a bar. Its an equally colossal turn off to watch a pretty face get wasted in an array of alcoholic spirits. So whatever the reason for drinking, watch your step ladies, ‘coz its quite slippery down where the road to “spirit villa” leads. But for now I’m off to the bar to watch some pretty young faces down their drinks almost with a vengeance and see them shed their inhibitions and dance…..till then Adios amigos & senoritas….