atheism:another alternative to convenience

SOMETHING I WROTE 5 YEARS BACK:

God
where is he and who is he?
is he a he?

since childhood i have had numerous questions that spring up in my mind everyday questioning the very tenets humanity is based upon..the existence of a supreme force called god,the creator of what is today.
needless to say all my questions are still unanswered but somewhere somehow i had begun to understand a few things on this issue.
i will share them with you

god or belief is just an act of convenience.
humans,because they have evolved so much mentally and because they are perhaps the most social of all organisms on the earth,are dependant and weak.
because we live in a society,we,since childhood are used to our parents,our teachers,our friends and anyone and everyone around us.even the beggar on the road who i have nothing to do with directly makes me feel a part of a setup,makes me feel i have a position in this human hierarchy.a terrorist sitting in lebanon makes me feel there is something that needs to be done,makes me feel i need to do something to stop the bloodshed if i am human.in that way each one of us has a certain obligation and we all fulfil them wether by choice or not.
this leaves us with two choices,either trust yourself completely and be called arrogant and self righteous or to place your trust in an unseen intangible entity called god.
the latter is easier as it doesnt have any room for accountability.if something does go wrong we move on saying god knows and god will help me.in a way it just hels us derive some strength from something that doesnt even exist.people find it easier to attribute all their happiness and place all their trust and faith in an entity they would anyways never see.
imagine trusting your best friend and being betrayed.
now imagine placing your faith in a piece of clay and accepting with all humility your failures and mishaps in life.its a survival mechanism.its a mode of convenience.
i cant see god so its easy for me to just place all my faith in him and even when i do not get what i was looking for i would not blame him cus in the first place i cant see him and i am ready to believe this is all a part of a plan.
as humans we want to do that,we want someone to place our trust in,somone to tell us that we will live on even when things have gone bad,someone we can derive some hope from and someone who can tell us it was meant to be and so we stop questioning why it happened.we give in to the force of the unseen,telling ourselves that he is the coach,the manager,the physio and the audience.
i can just play and i can just try but if i lose he will be the only one who would have known why i lost or would undrstand that i did put in my best though i did not get the desired result.
so logically atheism makes much more sense but then because i am a human too and people all around me believe in god and because i too have found that life becomes much easier if you can place all your faith and trust in someone you cant question,but just accept,i turn a believer.

i am not an atheist
maybe a convenient atheist
maybe a weak human being

it needs to be seen and decided
i am still on my path to find which hat to don.

Main

Haath kee lakeeron ne kaha mujhse main tujhey batata hoon kahan teree raah hai....kahan tera nishaana aur kya teree chaah hai...zyada aankhey duur tak na faila...kar wohee jo tere bas mei hai...main tujhey batata hoon tera vajoot kya hai...aage dekhega toh paas ko bhool jayega..raah mei pade kankar se ja takrayega...na...zar rakh kadmon pe aur tuu chaltaa jayega... kar mujhpe bharosa tu aage badhtaa jayegaa...

Haath kee lakeeron se maine kaha..tujhey banaya bhee maine hai..or meree mutthhee mein tu hai..ungliyan mod loon agar tujhey zameen hai dikhtee ungliyan chodh doo agar asman bhee choo payega...hai mujhey khud pe bharosa main chalta chala jaunga..raah ke kankad se zaroor ladkhadaunga par in hathon se sambhal jaunga..d...uur pe hogee nazar par paas ko saath le jaunga..aage badhta chala jaunga..khud kee lakeeren banaunga

KYUN

Kyun aisa lagtaa hai aaj ek arsaa beet gaya...
Kyun aisa lagtaa hai main sapnon ko peechey chod gaya..
Kuch bada paaney kee chah mei..khud ko peechey chodh gaya...
Umr beet rahee hai yuheen...kyon aankhen moond gaya...
Sab kuch apne bas mei tha...kyuun lagtaa hai rastaa bhool gaya..
Sab kuch chaahna par kuch na kar pana...kya chaahat mei main karnaa bhool gaya..

The Man and the Mannequin

Footfalls are low...the shopping season is long gone...but i gotta stay here...gotta do what i gotta do!

Feels lonely, this standalone store on the corner of the street. Looking at the rain, it feels good to be inside. Though i personally dont care about getting wet.

Thank god you are here, how the most dull and mundane of places become hotbeds of emotions, no one can explain. But everyday looking at your face makes me feel i am right where i should be. All the noise, frustration disappears when i look at you standing there. I know you must be getting bored too. Wonder if i help in easing these frustrations the way you do for me!

I wish you could talk. I wish after hours we could sit and eat dinner together or just talk, long endless, equally pointless conversations.

Of course you cant, i aint that lucky. But your all i have here. Days come and go, people come and go, many card swipes and shopping bags later my life still remains the same. Its still just me sitting after everyone is off taking care of this place.
Days go by pretty fast, what with so many customers and so much cash....its always packed with people. The crowd thins out after evening...during festivals and on season nights are a good time to do business.

At least i can talk to you...i know you cant respond but it feels like you are really listening to me...not many people speak to me...at least none of them wait to listen to what i gotta say. Your constant expression makes me feel you are interested in my life, in my thoughts and words.

Never have i seen any girl as beautiful as you...so many of them walk in everyday trying out the most expensive clothes just to look beautiful but none comes close.
By the way the auburn hair looks great on you...hope Rakesh keeps it on for sometime to come...and this dress just shows off what every man desires to have...but none can!

I wish i could touch you and we could connect..wish i could feel your hands on my skin...damn i wish you could change the expression on your face. Crying, anger, mischief...something, anything, you would just look so much more complete. How do we carry on a relationship without any exchange? there is no exchange of glances, of words, of smiles! Its becoming difficult but i'm just so into you that i'm willing to deal with this. At least you listen to me, you treat me like i exist. to others i dont even exist.

The drunkard's here again...poor bastard's all wet and drenched and all he can care about is that bottle...there is more water than theres daaruu in it anyway. Dont worry i know you hate those people gawking at your body through the glass everyday. But you are what they wanna see...you make every piece of clothing seem like its made for someone or the other. People look at the way the dress fits your body and buy it only to realise it doesnt look half as good on them. Thats why i sit here looking at you, admiring you.

Being all alone makes one talk too much. You get so used to just blabbering that you dont realise that there is no one around! you speak to yoursef. You have arguements, you have discussions!

Damn its morning, i am tired. Should have rested but our conversations never seem to end, do they?
Hey Rakesh, how was the wedding last night? Dude can you let Sandra keep the auburn hair for a while? She looks nice. Stop eyeing her chest you fukin letch, the dress just slipped...if only you would have done it properly...just put it back on her shoulder will you?

Fuck it...i'l do it......

Who am i kidding? i cant even push this stupid hat above my eyes.....

Lets play!

'This is a place with extreme weather, when it rains it bloody comes down like buckets on ecstacy'.
With these words under her breath Kaamini pulled her feet inside, no use though, her new shoes were already drenched. She tried to look outside and all she saw was rain, thick, heavy drops of water making it impossible to see anything else. The streetlights appeared as small balls of fire trying to make their way through a huge, dense waterfall. It was exactly this kind of night that she was not very comfortable in but she dint really have much of an option.The rickshaw driver behaving the way he was, wasn't making it any easier. Jhonny, the way he was called by everyone was not in the best of his moods. but then was he ever in a good mood?

'Why should i be in a good mood? what do i have that should instill happiness and exuberance in me?'

There was no exchange of words, it would have been futile in any case, the roar of the water gushing through the air would make any words or shouts incomprehensible.

Kamini asked the same question she had asked 10 times already 'Kab pahuchengey'?

Jhonny shouted back 'Abhee time hai', something that he'd said all the 10 times she asked him the question.

Jhonny shouted this and turned his head back to the road, and exactly the same moment the rickshaw made a spluttering sound, like a pigeon caught in the blades of a table fan the engine made dying noises.

splutterrr....sprutttt.....sprruuuutttttt.....

And there it was, the engine was dead.

'What more could go wrong with this bloody night' she said. Jhonny completely disregarded and stopped on the side of the road.

Minutes passed before a truck passed, but the driver was in no mood to slow down, his reflexes cut by a tenth thanks to the desi tharra he had just had on the last stop.

Half an hour and a lot of curse words later a rickshaw appeared. Jhonny thrust his hand out in the rain. The rick stopped. Even in that dark night she could see the rick driver smiling.

'Thhhhuuuuu' out came an endless deep red stream of chewed pan masala splattered on the gravel, in a shape only a earnest paintbrush could make.
Barely wiping his mouth clean he opened his mouth again, words came out this time
'Kya hua?' Ram badan asked rather jestingly,
'Band pad gayee gadiyaa' Jhonny said. He added 'Madame ko Safed Pul tak chod da zara, hum gadiya ko dekh lengey'

Kamini shot an angry look towards Jhonny, it was not the sort of night you take lift from strangers. But soon realised this was her only option to get out of here and this creepy rick guy.

RB saw the chemistry between them and knew she would be more comfortable in his rick around 2 men than she was with that weirdo Jhonny.

'Aeye madame, saheb bhee waheen tak jayengey, aapko chod den'

She hesitatingly but swiftly went and tried to retrieve that huge Samsonite bag from the rick. Both the rick guys came to help her and pulled out the shiny heave bag.

'Aaj kal suitcase bhee make up kar ke miltey hain' RB joked to himself.

They walked through puddles of rain water and reached his rick.

'Saheb' he told the half asleep man in the rick, 'Madame bhee jayengee safed pul tak, inka rickshaw band pad gaya.'

Vinod sprung back to life, just what he needed, a hot young damsel wet and in need of help.

'Hi, please come, sorry for your rick, dont worry i'm going that way too, i will drop you there.'

She handed him the bag, thinking he looked quite handsome in this dark, thick night. He looked well behaved and sophisticated too. His clothes were crisp and well ironed looking like he'd just started his day.

Both were not the kind of people who would get excited at meeting the first person of the opposite sex but there was just something in that night.
Maybe it was dozens of movies which epitomized fleeting love affairs in the rain. It was wet, it was cold and they were the only people on the road, all this heightened their senses and a strange excitement sprang up.

RB started the engine and in his nonchalant style started belting at the speed of light, it dint really matter that he couldn't see anything, as long as he knew he was on the road and not off it.

Vinod saw Kamini rubbing her arms trying to get comfortable in that chilly night.

'Here please take this, i have an extra one, you're already wet and this will help.'

She took it gladly, it was freshly perfumed, nice and earthy. What a brilliant turn of events this had been she thought in her mind.

'Here let me help you.'

Vinod was about to put his jacket over her head when he saw wet sand on her bare arms. Instinct told him not to, but impetus came from somewhere, it was a heady mix, that night, he brushed the sand off.'Sorry there was some sand on your arms.''Thats alright, thanks' she said with a nervous smile, very taken by surprise at his hand touching her cold, wet skin.

She pushed back Vinod's bag which by now was resting on her neck, Vinod turned and pushed it perfectly stuffing in place. 'What an ugly bag you are grey and torn, compared to hers' he said in his mind.

They started talking. First time in the night everyone was happy. First time in the night Vinod was thanking RB for belting his auto and going over those potholes, thanks to that mad speed and no suspensions whatsoever on that rickety auto, his hand was banging against Kamini's body every single minute.

They discussed the day they were having, how its so not safe for a woman to be on her own in such a dark, lonely night. They discussed their jobs and their bosses, their schools and their friends. Neither of them had had such a freewheeling conversation with anyone else in the last 4-5 years.

'Saheb aage ek dhaba hai, ruk ke khana kha leejiye, Safed Pul abhee kaafee duur hai.'

'I love you RB, mere baap kaam bana daala', Vinod was about to burst out saying these words but he dint need to, his face showed his immense happiness, he was gleaming like a child seeing his first bicycle does.

Kamini was in accordance too, she was hungry and she had good company, why let such a man go to waste? At least lets evaluate the option.

They got off pulling the jacket over their heads and pulling their bottoms as they ran. It was still raining pretty heavily.

RB dint really care about the rain, meanwhile Vinod realised he needed to get their bags out of the rick.
'Saaheb main lata hoon, rukiye' RB shouted guessing the look on Vinod's face.
Vinod squirmed for a bit but carried on holding Kamini's hand.

RB came running and shaking like a wet dog trying to get dry. He put the two bags down, doing that he could not help but smile at himself, look at the difference between these 2 bags.

They sat down to eat, steamy anda burjee and chai completed the experience.

'The same cold and rain were making me feel so irritated an hour back, now it feels like such a perfect setting' Vinod said in his mind. Exactly in front of him Kamini seemed to be echoing same emotions in her mind.

'Some good company and lots of cash' Vinod grinned to himself. He had his eyes on the big Samsonite bag as much as he'd had his eyes on Kamini.

His own bag though torn and filthy was full of the day's loot, the rich marwari couple he had given a lift in his car who he then mugged at knifepoint and left them in the middle of the jungle. When his car ran out of fuel he'd thought he was in for a shitty night but then RB turned up and Kamini was stranded with a huge red bag in need of help. 'So the cash registers are still running!' he almost laughed.

RB had similar thoughts, he was on the lookout for a hapless traveller when he saw this young seemingly rich man looking for a lift. Looking at his car he knew this guy was rich, the dirty bloody bag in his hand dint make sense somehow but there must be something in it,he thought.

And then came Kamini with her expensive bag mostly full of jewellery and some cash.

Vinod was on a high, he thought he was the thug here and those two were the victims.

He got up to go the loo, leaving the bag unattended first time that night.

Kamini had started to get some strange vibes from RB, the way he was looking at her bag again and again. But she could not carry it anywhere and Vinod was missing for the last 15 mins. She began to feel increasingly uncomfortable with RB. His eyes kept alternating between her blouse and her bag. In a way it made her feel good, she had two guys from the diametrical ends of the social spectrum salivating all over her sari.A sari in the rains has that effect.

She wanted to go pull up her blouse that had slipped an inch or two thanks to the rain.RB was catching these gestures all the time...Kamini was trying to pull her blouse up, trying to throw her pallu over the blouse but everything was just so transparent.She decided it would be better if she just wore a new blouse, this one was so wet.She fondled her handbag. RB chuckled to himself 'What now, she has a blouse in her handbag??'

She took her handbag and asked RB to wait till she goes and changes.

RB's heart started thumping faster and faster.

'Haan madame jaaiye, hum hain na.'

Kamini disappeared into the black night. Vinod was busy doing god knows what, there could'nt be a better moment , RB thought to himself.

He looked at both the bags, he had a clear choice: pick up one and make a dash, on second thought he could make use of both, he realised he could pick up one and come back for the other one.

Should it be the Red, shiny, expensive suitcase or that small but heavy, filthy grey bag?

The choice was simple, why risk getting caught with that grey bag, belt with the red bag first, even if Kamini catches him it wont be too much of a fight. He picked up the heavy bag and ran not caring the rain, to his rick. He fitted it somehow in the back and made sure it doesnt fall out.

Adrenaline was rushing into his veins, he felt faster, stronger than he'd ever felt. He ran back to see if either of them had returned to that charpoy. There was no one except a wrinkly old dog looking for some food near the charpoy. He ran towards the charpoy, his heart was beating faster than he was running or was it the other way round? He got into this zone where all rationality leaves you and greed takes over. He was meters away from the charpoy when Vinod came out, wiping his face with his handkerchief. His first glance was the charpoy and second glance was a running RB.

RB realised too late that he'd come out and tried to stop and run back,but inertia pushed him ahead.

He almost landed in Vinod's arms.

He looked at Vinod's face which was changing colors faster than a chameleon. It went from pink to red to bright yellow. He followed his gaze and saw that the charpoy just had the bright red sari Kamini had worn and nothing else. He could not understand what had happened or why was this guy looking the way he was or why was the sari there.

He realised and broke away from Vinod and started running back, who had started following him. They both reached the rick where RB dashed to the controls to start it.

'Plonk' came a strong punch right across his ears, numbing his ears and sending a shooting pain everywhere in his body.

Vinod jumped in, picked up the red bag and tried to open it, there was brown wet sand dripping from the sides of the suitcase, it opened with a thump and he saw what made the suitcase so heavy, sand and bricks!

RB gained composure and looked at the bag lying on the ground, he couldnt decide what hurt more...the punch or seeing the constituents of that bag.

On the other side of the road they heard the peculiar sound of an auto engine.

The last vision that night Vinod and RB saw was a grinning Jhonny and Kamini in the auto speeding away! and the grey, torn, filthy bag in Kamini's arms.

A second chance

Yes I’ve got to do this! Amma said I’m not good for anything, well I am going to show you and the wretched world that I am special. I know he is watching and he wants me to prove to all of you that I am his child, brave and fearless!

I am sick and tired, angry and hateful for what these bastards have done. The videos Mehsud bhai showed us yesterday showed our women getting raped and butchered in Gujarat in front of those fucking impotent thullas, madarchod saale. We have wasted all our lives sitting here in India when our brothers are being killed everyday by those fucking Jews, pushing us out of the land that was rightfully ours, the land that has saw the muslim faith fight and conquer.

My wife will be proud of me. Better being the widow of a hero than being the wife of a coward. My kids, I’l miss them. Rukhsana, Rukhi when you were born I looked into your eyes and saw Allah himself, i felt like I had created something, something so fragile yet beautiful, so sacred and pure. I wish I could have been there when you would get married, when you would grow up into this beautiful young woman full of grace. But I know you would understand, please take care of your mother and your brother, you know he needs you to guide him, even though he’s older to you he lacks your sense of responsibility and values. Ahmer, there is not a single moment that I haven’t felt proud of being your father. I love you my son, you will carry my name forward in this world. Protect your mother and your sister from the filthy eyes of those hindu bastards. Pretty soon I will do my duty but your duty, my son, will carry on for years. You have a bigger responsibility. Teach our brothers, tell them of the injustice and humiliation meted upon us by the bastards. Tell them how everyday we are meant to feel inferior and different because of our facial hair the clothes we wear. Tell them how all of them would end up becoming either mechanics or drivers while these hindus flourish. This is their country not ours. Our land is far from here, we are unfortunate enough to be born in a foreign land, to be living as refugees at the mercy of their will. You are back from school and as usual your shirt’s all smeared and grimy. I wish I could stay and see you both grow up but don’t worry Mehsud bhai and others will take care of you.

“Ji, what are you staring at the walls for? Aren’t you supposed to be in the garage? Roshan bhai left you early today?”

“Haan Begum, he shut the garage early today, it’s his daughter’s birthday and you know how these rich hindus like to make a show of everything they can spend money on just to put us down.”

“What has gotten into you these days Mushtaque? Roshan bhai has been so kind to us, thanks to him our kids go to school, thanks to him we always have food on our table.”

“Begum, staying with these infidels you have forgotten who puts the food on your plate and who gives you the pleasure of being able to taste and appreciate it. He pays me money because I toil day and night for him, I am the best he has”

“Accha forget it, its Rukhi’s birthday tomorrow, take tomorrow off and we will all go for a nice picnic”

“Noora, I cant take the day off, I have to go with Roshan to meet a dealer at 12:00 tomorrow. We will take both kids to the park tomorrow morning. I will leave from there for work and you can come back with the children.”

“ok come have dinner and lets have an early night tonight.”

I can see your beautiful face now. I can see why all the boys were jealous of me. That bugger Salim stopped talking to me when he came to know of us, guess he always liked you and I somehow got you. I remember how I would sit and wonder in stupid excitement how I ever got a beauty like you. I know things dint turn out the way you thought they would. Sorry I dropped out of college, I was never made for that. Maybe Salim could have taken better care of you, given you what you deserve. But tomorrow you will cry in pride. This is my gift to you. Allah will be with us, I am doing this for him, giving myself up for his cause and he will always look over all of you. I wish I could keep staring at you, that this night would go on endlessly, go on and on till I feel like I can have no more, till I feel I am ready to move on. Amma never really understood me, after Abba left she always thought I would take care of her but I did my best didn’t I? I am proud of being a garage mechanic, I work hard, I work with sweat and grease, I work to restore things just like Allah does. I am sorry I could not provide you with a better life. But you pushed me so far away that I don’t even want to see you before I go.
Noora, I want to curl up and hang on to you, feel every second passing because this is all I am holding in my fists. I want to leave this world with the picture of your beautiful face lit by the playful moon. I can feel tears, huge salty tears, filling up my eyes and blurring everything in my vision. Tomorrow I will leave like these tears that have left my body, never to return, only to disappear in the air leaving the salt behind.

My head feels heavy and I am feeling sleepy just like every night, but is it like every night? What do I do? Do I sleep because all human beings do so at night? Or do I make myself realize that tomorrow I won’t be human anymore. To be human is to have life, to have blood and pulse, to have a head and eyes to see. Tomorrow I will have none. I will be with Allah, much more than human but not a human, not in this world, not around these trees and not drinking this water. Rukhi here you go again lecturing your elder brother! As if he is going to listen to you. Ahmer what! How did you grow so tall overnight? And what’s that in your hand? A kada? Ahmer have you lost your fucking senses? You bloody fucker who the fuck gave you that? No Rukhi don’t leave baba, you and Bilal can stay with us. The fucking pony, that bloody pony with the head of a goat that I used to have nightmares about. You don’t scare me anymore you don’t even exist, see I figured that out, I have been to the zoo and even that Discovery channel never showed a pony with a goat’s head. Yes we can go play tomorrow now that we are friends but don’t put your filthy head in my plate. Abba and I eat together in this plate. Let’s play gulli danda. You can’t stand with your feet up in the air can you? Oh poor you.

Damn its so bloody bright outside. Who opened the windows? “Begum”. “pull the bloody curtains, this sunlight is going to make me go blind!”. “What time is it?”. “Fuck its 9 o clock”.

“Ouch”, this tape hurts. Allah, shaving all the hair made me feel clean, made me feel like I am reborn filled with innocence and ready for a new beginning. But these tapes hurt. These strips of explosives will thunder inwards and will leave destruction and vengeance outwards. My chest feels so heavy with these strips. I can’t believe this wire holds my life in minute balance. One pull and this body would vaporize. I need to be careful with this. Especially, with the children around for the next few hours.

“haha, see how happy she is?” “Yes Begum, you know she loves parks and trees.” “Rukhi, come here beta.”

“Rukhi how much do you love your papa?”

“as much as the ice cream man loves his ice cream.”

“haha, but beta the ice cream man has to let go of the ice cream. He sells it to others. He doesn’t even get to have it. How can he love it?”

“just the way you love me and want me all to yourself but know one day you would give me away to someone.”

My tears are pushing against the walls of my eyes. It feels like a dam is going to burst and everything would be flooded but how do I cry? How do I tell you darling that I am only going to be a picture in your drawing room from today?

“What happened papa? Why do you look so sad? It’s my birthday today. Let’s go play on the new ride. You need to push me and when I fall you need to catch me. Ok? I love the air. It makes me feel like I can fly. Lets go papa, c’mon lets go please?”

“take your brother beta, I have pain in my legs.”

“Mushtaque, listen to the girl na, entertain her, you only got another hour to go before you leave for work.”

She looks so innocent and full of life on that swing. I push her so she goes higher, I realize she’s only going further away. I don’t want to push you away. I know it makes you feel free beta but I feel like I am pushing you away. “Bas beta, go slow”.

“No, a little more, don’t worry it wont hurt.”

“Papa, push me higher I want to see what’s beyond the fence.”

“Beta, see your shoes slipped off, wait let me get them.”

I walk around to pick her shoe and I can see her face bright and shining, the sun suits her, makes her look radiant. She does look free. Can she see beyond that fence though?

“papaaaaaa…………”

“Oh betaaaa!!!! You are gonna fall, be careful, oh fuck”

I lunge forward to catch her, life really feels like a cricket match on action replay. Oh she’s safe! Thankfully I can reach that far. Here you are. Aaahhh. But no!! Oh God no!! no baby I cant catch you, I have death strapped to my body, no baby don’t, oh Allah no its all going so slow still I can’t seem to get my way out of this. Allah please don’t let this happen, let her fall, let her hurt her head rather than disappear in my arms forever. No Allah no I carry this on in your name. Rukhi!!!!! No don’t!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A sharp pain in every single nerve of his body, he’d never felt more alive than he felt now, while he saw Rukhi reaching his arms. Just before the blast came the explosion of emotions, of guilt of regret but mostly of helplessness. It was as if he was an outsider watching a movie disconnected with what he saw. The moment dint last forever. A loud thundering blast followed, vibrations that shook every tree, every swing in the area nearby, organs disintegrated into unrecognizable pieces and the last fraction of time when he saw the flash and truth of what he’d done dint seem to stop.

With this he woke up with a heavy sweat, sweat trickled down like he was a fish just out of water. He felt the bomb tied to his chest, fully conscious of the reality, of the dream that had made him realize what it felt not being around Rukhi, Ahmer and Noora. He pulled out the bomb, threw it and washed his face. Rukhi dint want to see that ugly beard today, she wanted her daddy clean and handsome.

Bulla and her simple dreams

Doyen of the downtrodden

Mayawati has celebrated 25 years of BSP in immoderate fashion. A 200 crore rally and a Rs 5 crore garland might be a big power show in a state which is much used to such obscene display of one's position but i'm sure Kashiram and Ambedkar both have their heads hung in utter and absolute disappointment seeing the 5 crore garland grace Maya's extravagant neck.

The woman who claims to be the doyen of dalits and feels such gestures need to be made in order to assess her identity of being a dalit has long lost any inkling of the ideology BSP was based upon.
Parks, over the top statues of dalit leaders including herself are not going to do a single dalit good. It may keep her in power for sometime to come but wont be beneficial in the long run.

Crores and crores of the taxpayer's money is being guttered in erecting her statues in every single town of UP. I do not quite understand how all this expenditure is going to benefit the cause of the dalit.

There are 2 ways of appeasing dalits:

One being the way of passing regulations, building more institutes for the minority, giving state sponsored scholarships, better medical facilities, rural electrification etc.

And the other is the completely wasteful but politically smart move of spending all this mad money on giving UP an unmistakeable dalit footprint. These parks, nagars, statues assert the dalit identity and help dalits feel some semblance of power and a better status in society but what is completely ignored is the fact that all this is not going to do a single dalit any good.

Because of the mayawati statue or ambedkar park a dalit from a village in western UP is not going to get a better job or a chance to study or electricity and water for his anyways miniature fields.

Heart is winning over the head and false pride is winning over pragmatic realism.

All this ostentatious display i am guessing is to show to the OBCs (Mulayam Yadav) that dalits have finally arrived on the political scene and by the sheer numbers can and will hold an important position in state politics but hasnt it been enough?
I think Mulayam gets the idea bloody well that he doesnt have a squat of control in this state and its no more upto him or his bunch of goons to decide what stays and what goes in the state of UP.

Mayawati should stop such stupid and obscene acts and concentrate on the task at hand. Even now every second day a newspaper report says 'A dalit girl raped', 'A dalit boy killed for marrying an upper caste girl'. The literacy in rural UP is abysmally low and while hordes of people from the hinterland reach Mumbai's shores in search of opportunity only to get beaten up and treated like third grade citizens, Mayawati is busy conducting rallies when she should be concerned about the curfew in Bareilly.

I remember being all hopeful and elated when she came to power mainly because she was a woman and i have believed women can change the very course of things when they decide to and because the state of UP deserved better leadership than Mr Mulayam Yadav, Mr Singh etc.

She has done immense good in areas such as infrastructure, in helping Noida to become one of the best towns in India to live in, developing greater noida and other satellite towns but a chief minister's job is much more than that. She needs to inspire leadership not only by power shows but by some tangible groundwork.

26 Years since i was born.

Ya well as the title suggests i am 26 years old, no its not a sudden realization nor is today the day i was born. Just so happens that i had a really random thought, an awkward realization, one which you just play in your mind and then gallop across to another random thought but the relevance makes it stick and stand out in the otherwise dreamy, hypnotic background of, well, random thoughts.

Being 26 is a difficult phase, maybe second only to the teenage years in terms of change, life defining realizations.

My friends are getting married left, right, center, above, below...god 2 of them even got married in a palace!

i feel perfectly between 'i wanna have fun, enjoy myself, meet new people' and 'i am so happy my life is so stable and i have someone to come back home to'.
I keep getting thoughts of how it would feel to be independant, on my own, without something i am committed to, left alone just to wander, just to experiment and free to do as i please, no one to answer to and to have no one whose life is so deeply connected to mine.
I think its just human to dream of freedom, more so in males who like to think of themselves as young, strong stallions galloping, sprinting across a green thick field and feeling the strong gust of wind in their hair burning their eyes stretching the skin to the back of their heads. Well you get the point.
But then you take a look at the woman you love and it makes you feel like a child again, waiting to get to his mother, to climb up to her and disappear in her lap. You think of how stressful your job is, how much you hate every bit of it and how your stomach feels like a student riot every time you are accountable for something going wrong at your workplace. You crave for that space, that touch and that voice that relaxes, calms you, the person who when opens the door suddenly changes your memories of the day. Suddenly your boss, the traffic goes out of the window and you know in her smile is the key to your happiness. You look at her and you thank your stars. you dont burn with teenage excitement you just warm yourself with her smile and you say to yourself 'This is home'.

I am sure anyone whos been in a management school has heard of the SEC classification (Socio economic classification).
In India its a standard classification for demographic indication.
Unilever is the only one that uses another standard called the LSM.

SEC is used in each and every market research study to group respondents based on their education and occupation into a social class.

I work for one of the world's biggest market research agencies and during the course of my work i come across new ideas, new ways to conduct research. The consumer is changing at a rapid pace and if marketers need to keep a tab on the pulse of the market, research assumes great importance.

For certain categories like fashionwear, sport footwear etc a classification like SEC doesnt make too much sense.

Therefore would it make sense to have another classification for certain categories which are more youth oriented?

I have toying with this idea and an idea struck me which is purely a result of ideation, blue sky thinking if you may. Its not tested or calibrated and might evensound absurd. But i feel some categories can definitely use this criteria for segmentation. This could serve as a lifestyle indicator.

Lets call this MMB classification (Movies, Music, Books). I feel, based on three parameters it could be possible to create a segmentation which can be used to certain youth sensitive categories. These are:

1) Movies people watch (directors they idolize, movies they collect, they recommend, they feel are a part of who they are).

2) Music they listen to (the bands, the genre, the history)

3) Books they read ( genre, writers)

I somehow feel people who tend to like the same books, movies, music can be termed homogeneous in their outlook towards certain brands.

Maybe cus these three are in many ways linked to ongoing fads and hence they could be used to determine a person's preference in a category that itself is linked to fads.

what do you think?

Lessons from the diary of an apprentice

Okay, so I went with my better half for the zillionth time for what women call 'A little bit of shopping'. Now I must confess my girl is definitely much better than most of the women out there when it comes to this scary activity but she is a girl at the end of the day and so I bore the brunt of all that aimless walking, gallavanting from one stall to the other this Saturday.

After all these years of accompanying women while they display their biggest skill outside of their resume, I decided to change my attitude from that of irritation and frustration to that of a young apprentice ready and eager to learn the secrets behind it.

some questions to start with...

Where do they get this burst of energy you never thought existed?

How do they know so many colors?

How do they know what cut, what fabric is latest when they have been spending all their time with you and you definitely haven't been watching stylecheck or partying?

So we went to Hill road in Bandra to buy some shoes, now Pema already has at least 20 pairs of shoes but obviously she doesn't have the one in 'light red, 3 inch heels'
And this time I decided I would observe and learn and get all the answers that have eluded males for eternity.

Some big learnings:

-Beware of the 'Why progresssion'
What is a WHY PROGRESSION? well we all studied AP, GP, HP. To all males interested in pleasing his girl by seeming genuinely interested in what she buys and ISN'T this is the most important progression, more important that all the bloody AP,GP,HP.

It starts like this: You try to sound interested, want to give your inputs, opinion during her purchase process. Now all women love to ask questions, and specially questions they know their poor, hapless bawfs have no clue of. This is just a way of getting a one up by making the guy feel he doesn't take ample interest in things she likes!
Anyways, so she's been evaluating a red shoe (I don't have the description, they have more names than punjabis harminder (happy) lakwinder (lucky) etc), so suffice to call it a red shoe. Now this unsuspecting red shoe doesn't really know whats going to happen to it in the next 10 mins or so. Its gonna be a hell of a ride mate! First you go to the gravel, all sorts of feet (big, fat, ugly, dirty, smelly) (My girl has none, she takes good care of her feet you see), well yes all sorts of feet get inserted into it it doesn't matter if they can fit or no, even if a woman knows its not her size, boy shes gotta wear it and see, I guess she needs to know by how much is it bigger or smaller. After this my dear red shoe you might be forced to walk on the road spoiling your shine, then you are airborne once again only to be twisted, turned and poked in order to see if theres a defect.

Boy, am I glad I ain't a red shoe, or any shoe for that matter!

so yes the male try to act all interested and therefore begets the question:

What do you think of it?

to which you answer

mmmm.. I think its not that great..

to which they ask another question

Why? what don't you like?

to which you answer

I don't think its very office like...

to which they ask again

Why?

Beware my men of the WP, you have fallen for it and now there is no way to exit, trickier than the Chakravyuh, more confusing than a golf game and much more life threatening than an Aftab shivdasani movie, this is the WP.

why*why*why*why........n times = why^n

common multiplier = why

Simplified, for every answer you give thinking its going to earn you some brownie points, you are posed with an even difficult question (kind of like the GRE). And the question quite simply is WHY?

KEY LEARNINGS FROM THE WHY PROGRESSION:

- Please continue with the act of nodding your head, what the male species has been doing for centuries before women rights became a fad.
- Do not use words EVER! just nod, she doesn't want your opinion anyway. Trust me a girl knows whether she wants a shoe or not the minute she gets down from the auto rickshaw and sees the shoe stall a km ahead.
- If you want to speak speak in some unknown language, invent some new language. Try it.
- DO NOT try to show her that you are evaluating it, she knows you don't give a rat's ass just by looking at you. Remember you are just a male, a mere mortal, she has powers you cant comprehend or fathom. So forget that approach.
- Think of some answer that cannot have a WHY multiplier thereby bringing a premature death to the sequence. Maybe, 'I think they look good on your feet, your feet are just perfect for these shoes, see that spike in the front, I think your small feet look pretty there. She is not going to ask you WHY. Well you just said her feet are pretty and perfect for something. She cant question that. Though you never know. They evolve faster than us. By the time I have thought of this as a perfect excuse Pema (who is quietly reading a book beside me) has already thought of a possible WHY.

So to all the men out there, BEWARE of THE WHY PROGRESSION! ALWAYS!!

Jyoti Basu

"Our doubts subsided some what. My very first election as a candidate gave me a taste of what bourgeois elections were all about. It was to baptism by fire. But all’s well that ends well. Mr. Kabir was defeated.

The 1946 elections taught me that there could be no place for ideals and honesty in such a bourgeois set-up. The end game was to win. At any cost".

Jyoti Basu (8 July 1914 – 17 January 2010)

Jyoti Basu, the name needs no introduction, 5 decades in active politics and probably the longest serving chief minister of a state anywhere in the world, was pronounced dead today due to multiple organ failure.

I heard this name first when i was in the sleepy town of Haldia, where i was born and brought up for the next 4-5 years. Jyoti Basu was the chief minister of the state then and my parents would often mention his name, few people they admired i think.

What a time to live in, Hitler's rise and soviet fall, birth of socialism in India and the freedom struggle. In a country where there were only two political camps that exercised any kind of control, the Congress and the Muslim League, where communal affiliations were the order of the day thanks to these ruling parties, Jyoti Basu was dreaming of a Communist party, a party that at the time lacked the brute force of the entrenched Congress and the political positioning of the Muslim League. A party that laid its foundations on a simple but strong ideology of uniting the masses into a class struggle, of uniting those who were a means of production in the neo imperialist society under the Raj and fighting its way to the parliament.

Over years the CPI(M) rose from being a ideological movement to a mainstream political party. To every non bengali Bengal is now synonymous with CPI(M) and Jyoti Basu.

I would just like to pay homage to this great leader.

You hate your job, your girlfriend cheated on you, you had an accident. Blame it on 3 idiots!

Yes you read that right.

God has been gracious enough to give us what we'v asking him for all these years.

A movie called 3 idiots.

No it hasn't turned back 2009 and the global recession (i have to mention it, after all i am a product of this auspicious year) .

It has given us, all indians something that our DNA predisposes us to crave and possess: Something to blame.

Yes, 3 idiots is the official punching bag.

You got up late and missed an interview. Dont worry tell your mother you watched 3 idiots last night. Madhavan inspired you to take to bathroom tile phptography and art (for those who would like details on this emerging trend and neo bourgeoisie trend, please look forward to my next post).


18 student of the famous KEM medical college in Mumbai were arrested for ragging their juniors and now face stern action by college authorities and the police alike. They have agreed to charges under Maharashtra anti ragging act. Apparently they forced some juniors to act out sexual positions with each other which led to a junior (whose father is a policeman) complaining and getting them arrested (like who else could do that?).

And please do not bother guessing who is responsible for instigating such lowly denegrating behavior? 3 idiots obviously. 'Jahan panah tohfa kubul karo!'

Thank god 'Ranchod' or 'Funsuk' whatever his name is today, did not castrate and hang the seniors upside down. These Physiotherapy seniors would have been in for some serious therapy then.

Now someone from the education board i think is going to get a special screening of '3 Idiots' to see if the allegations of the movie instigating the boys to rag is true. What a royal way to spend taxpayer's money. So is it going to be your family for the uhmmm premiere or just you and some other babus?

Thats not all, you poor citizens should be aware of how this satanic flick is leading to a spike in crimes.

A 12 year old Mumbai boy has committed suicide and now parents claim its because he watched 3 idiots twice in last few days. Yes i agree 3 hours of the movie had various ways of killing oneself, they showcased well the methodology, the timing, the paraphernalia required etc!

How can we blame movies for such instances?

Have you seen American History X? or Hostel?

Crime is committed because the criminal has in his DNA to do so, because he has grown up in such an environ and because his sense of right and wrong is warped. He lives in his own world surrounded by his own thoughts believing hard in his beliefs. How can we grown up individuals blame movies, games for everything that happens?

Every hour a woman in raped in India. Every year thousands kill themselves for failing in their studies, love life, career etc. But can we simple blame movies for everything?

Let's show only Hum saath saath hain and Hum Apke hain Kaun. Lets see if crime rate dips, if families come closer and suicides decrease.

I do understand that heavy, graphic scenes of violence, crime can affect a child's mind but how can those stupid medical college fucks say that 3 idiots inspired them? If i was the director of the movie i would want to knock the morons down.

On a lighter note, the new year has given us the perfect excuse : i watched 3 idiots.

some examples:

1) I want to name my son 'Wakao Bangdu' , because Funsuk is a big scientist and a philanthropist, sitting in Ladakh he has thousand patents to his name.

2) I want to get into bathroom tile photography( more on that later), thanks to Madhavan publishing those ugly looking books on every species known to mankind.

3) I want to become a man friday in boys hostel, see how Milimeter became Centimeter!

Contributions invited!

A River Runs Through It (1992)

'A River Runs through it' was a 1992 movie by Robert Redford that won an Oscar for Cinematography and rightly so.
I had seen this movie 3-4 years back and was touched by it. Today i decided to watch it again. Needless to say i felt the same, reminded again why i really liked it.

Its a powerful example of a simple story told simply through the eyes of someone who's a part of the story. Its strongest point is its setting. A true testament to the beauty of the American wilderness. Each of those scenes of fly fishing would make you wish you could taste, smell this place, get into the water and feel it drench your trousers slowly.

The second strong point is its cast. Craig Sheffer as the father and Brad Pitt, Tom Skeritt as the two sons. At times in the movie you can sense the strong bond every father would want to have with his kids, a bond that doesnt require hugs or kisses, a gentlemanly handshake does just as well.

Reverend Maclean is a Prebysterian minister in the small town of Montana. He has two sons, Paul (Brad Pitt) and Norman (Tom Skeritt). Their mother is a simple small town housewife who takes care of her kids and respects her husband.

the story revolves around the growing up of the kids and how Norman goes to college far away eventually landing up a job as Literature Prof in Chicago. Meanwhile younger brother Paul stays back in Montana and becomes a journalist.

The father and sons have a family ritual of fly fishing which bonds them together. in these scenes you would see the striking beauty of the American countryside, rocky rapids and full trees.

the movie is narrated by an old Norman looking back at his life.

What i really loved about this movies was its simplicity, something that ALL hindi movies lack. Maybe its just the way we are. We cannot portray emotion without hysterics, without oodles of glycerine and shrill screaming. The scene where the family loses its son is so quiet, so peaceful that the peace, the stillness strikes you and makes you feel the pain the mother is feeling. The still face of the mother and the absurd question by the father ' Which hand' is a zillion times stronger than Shahrukh khan trembling at the feet of Amitabh Bachhan. Why do we need to overact and over complicate scenes is something i will never get. The most effective dialogue is the most simple dialogue. Yet we see our actors screaming 'Bhagwan ne mere saath kyun kiya etc etc', it insults my intelligence and makes me feel like the director is telling me 'I dont think you would understand simple dialogues so here take this unbearable, mind numbing screaming'.

The best performance according to me would be Brad Pitt. Brad according to me one of the most versatile actors we have ever seen. After all can you imagine a Fight Club and a Meet Joe Black?

He portrays a deep rooted frustration, a disappointment of having stayed back in Montana after he looks at his brother's life. This has been completely downplayed in the movie but i feel is a strong part of Brad's character. Because he stays back he is supposed to be the master at fly fishing, something that their father connects to perfection. In his mind he mindlessly tries to achieve it, never knowing he actually has it. The scene where he catches the big fish on thier last trip together shows the single minded determination the young man has. He has portrayed to great perfection a young man in a small town smarter than his peers, more open than his peers.
He seems a man who is meant for bigger things, yet has accepted that Montana is his home for life. The way his character is etched out it'l make you feel like caring for him if you yourself have a younger brother. You would want to make sure you are there when he messes up with the folks at the gambling den. He is vulnerable, he is young, he is determined and he is sure of what he's doing, only he doesnt fathom what repercussions his actions would have.

So if you want to watch a light movie about life and its beauty, see how love exists in unsaid words and how bonds exist in distances please watch this one. You would appreciate the fine art of filmmaking that Redford has displayed and it would make you cherish your family a wee bit more.

Mamy Poko pants

Mamy Poko announces the entry of Unicharm, Japan a player in Baby care, Female hygiene market.

The Indian baby care market is more or less saturated with a handful well known players in the organized market. Brands like Huggies, Pampers are well entrenched brands with clear positioning.

Mamy poko has therefore had a challenging entry into the Indian baby care market and it seems they are doing well for themselves.
Yesterday i was at a retail outlet and a 20 something woman came in asking for 'Only Mamy Poko pants'. I frankly had not expected the brand to do well at all. I hadnt even thought that it would be a part of the consideration set as baby care, according to me would be a high involvement and therefore higher brand loyalty segment.

But on deeper dwelling, i feel the brand has had a sensible, well calculated launch, some of the reasons according to me are:

• The product itself is well differentiated as it targets a need that was not addressed at least in the Indian market. These diapers are different from Huggies, Pampers as they are pants with elastic bands. This means ease of usage as they don't need to be folded and stuck. Note that the brand name is Mamy Poko pants and not just Mamy Poko. The differentiator is the need solution and hence an integral part of the offering.
  
• The brand name differentiates itself in the sense that its not a English name like Huggies, Pampers. Imagine another brand of diapers called Comfort or Care etc. (You see i am not that imaginative with diaper brand names). Do you think it would be easy for such a brand to break the clutter? The first time you see the ad with the brand name it does strike you as something different, a new offering, a new brand.
• The use of the brand mascot 'Poko Jang' has all the makings of a Japanese brand. Neither Huggies not Pampers have a brand mascot. The mascot increases the association with the category. Maybe!
• Guessing that it would be at a higher price point than its competitors, it has tried to advertise heavily. Promotions have also gone hand in hand. The photo attached here was of a promotion carried out wherein mothers could send in a SMS and they would get a free diaper. This could be an effective way of introducing trials as well as raising awareness.

Interesting to see how global behemoths like Kimberley Clark and P&G are going to react to this new entrant. Gone are the days of the traditional homemade diapers which i'm sure even my mother would have used. The Indian mother has better options, more indulging and comfortable.

Just as a whacko afterthought, if the technology, material used in diapers is so efficient at absorbing moisture could be modified and used in rainwear?