Friday, November 24, 2017

Murky threats, missing limbs and muddled Aadhaar links

Imma gonna find ma finger prinz 
Pic credit; Google images
So guys, the Indian political scenario today, which looks like ‘A tragicomic adaptation of Orwell’s 1984’ and feels like ‘Gemini Circus gone berserk: Story of a frenzied elephant in the room’, is to say the least bit, umm, interesting.. I mean, very interesting. I mean, verrry, verry, interesting. 

During a public rally recently, Bihar's BJP chief declared that any hand/finger raised against Modi should be chopped off. Some other leaders have recently placed their claims on people's heads and noses. So basically, there’s no guarantee that our body parts will remain linked to the body anymore...  

So, here's my question: Then why the hell are we still losing our shit over linking biometrics to Aadhaar and linking Aadhaar to everything else in life?!!!

Seriously, the entire country today is in the same state as Nearly-Headless-Nick. In fact, we are just one tweet or film away from turning completely headless.

Please guys, let's take a moment here to think of the ensuing situation. Our government hospitals as it is have shortage of doctors. And us Mango People, as it is have shortage of money to even think of private hospitals. So we're likely to land in a sarkaari hospital carrying whatever body parts we can gather. You’ll most probably meet an overworked, underpaid, sleep deprived, weekly off deprived, girl friend/boy friend deprived, Padmavati movie controversy-deprived house surgeon who couldn’t care less about your missing limbs. Rest assured, floating heads will be resting on wrong bodies, noses will be mismatched and neatly pedicured fingers will land on hairy hands.

Here at this very point, I ask you to take another moment, guys. To think of the bigger tragedy that would follow. Can you imagine the havoc this would cause in the life of India's Aadhaar man, Mr Nilekani? Poor man spent years putting together the unique ID project. After much effort, the government too had finally succeeded in blackmailing, sorry, convincing people to link Aadhaar to almost everything. He thought his job was done.

He must have been thinking, “Ok now that I am done fixing Aadhaar, let me go fix Infosys.” But hell, no! With people's heads, noses, fingers and limbs in general being at a risk of going missing, he might have to start all over again trying to fix mismatched biometrics. And that only means one thing guys. Without the Aadhaar man by his side, the country's IT man Mr Narayana Murthy will lose his composure all over again. The last time this happened, one person packed his bags and left the country. You know who. Seriously, it's a house of cards.

In any case of eventuality, I just want to say this in advance: “Dear Mr Nilekani, we’re sorry we lost our biometrics.”

Meanwhile, ever since the Surpanaka threat to Deepika Padukone, I have been a bit concerned about myself. I'm heading towards the mirror right now to check if my extraordinarily long nose needs a trim. How does one go about getting one's nose trimmed? A saw or a kitchen knife? Or may be just make a film and wait for things to unfold.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Broken Pen

My pen is broken
There's blood splattered on the page

It once shone of steel
This twisted nib,
It now rusts
Like my voice. 

The ink from its veins
Hangs out to dry
Like unclaimed meat
In a butcher's stall

I can hear a faint throbbing,
One drop after another, 
It's dripping...
I know it's just the beginning

I hear their voices
Like the witches of Macbeth
They're crackling in laughter,
All meaning is lost

I want to shriek,
I want to shriek
This guilt inside me
Catches my throat;
I want to shriek,
I want to shriek
An overbearing shame
Snatches my voice.

Holding my thoughts hostage 
This fear is merciless
Gunning down my conviction
These doubts show no remorse;
There's no end to reproach,
I'm trapped 
In a womb of silence.

Monday, January 11, 2016

Of Bygone Days

The Rasam today smells like Ajji's kitchen
Puritan; No onions nor garlic
A potful of memories
Fancy an olfactory trip
The smell of old leather
Silk lined with gold border
25 paise coins, Kumkum, Ponds cream
Dried Margosa petals under pillow
Teak cot, mosquito net
Beetle leaf and areca nut
Mustards splatter, curry leaves float
A spoonful of ghee as lentils dissolve
Spices, chilly powder, tamarind
Blend into the colour of earth
Of which some day, I too shall be a part.

Friday, December 18, 2015

Mysore skies

The sky in my home town
Wears an amber gown
With streaks of orange
In a border golden-brown

The Sun casts one last glance
Making an inventory
The Hill, the River, the Palace
Everything's intact

Stars in the clear sky
Hang like silver charms
The Moon's an amulet
Guarding the city at night

Hey, why's the town glum?
It has a brooding frown
Pining for its children
Away from home

Consoling, singing lullabies
Tucking it to bed
The sky embraces my town
In a warm, tight hug.


A distant cloud catches my sight
As if Australia were afloat
Nearly so, Adelaide's a greyish blur
I've seen this before, I kid you not

One evening fifteen years ago
Unburdening, my lungs dried out
For a young heart prematuredly battered
The endless sky held escape routes

Gliding clouds guarded bitter secrets
Untethered by imposed reality
Integrating, disintegrating, a bead
In a string of eternal reincarnation

Undying, free-floating spirit
It stood above me
Waiting for updates
And I compared notes

Farewell my friend, I wish you well
Some day when I look up
Will you still be there?
I'll bring new tales with a fresh start
Each time, let's erase the past.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Racing with Time

Remember that day?
We met in an open field, years ago
Walked hand in hand
Promised to never let go

Strumming under sunlight tender
Was dawn's freshest air
Caressing abundant green, Our hearts
Struck by boundless joy

Who were we? Where from? Our roots?
The past was a blur, really.
The present golden; Our dreams
Took flight into a future unknown

We walked, We sprinted
Panting for breathe,We ran...
Now! This moment, when our bodies are warm
Let's embrace in each others arm.

And I ran my fingers
Through the contours of your face
It felt like cold metal
How come I was numb?

The air was heavy
My chest hollow
My face chipped away
The limbs pulled down

Our wings clipped, roots strewn
The future was present;You, inanimate,
As I crumbled to dust,
The storm was gone.

Monday, March 9, 2015

An Open Letter to Lord Ganesha

Dear Lord Ganesha,

IISiddhi VinayakaII IIVighnavinashakaII ...Lord... Lord... I am very scared. I have a feeling that something terrible will befall us. That is why I have decided to write this Open Letter to you. Since you are a celestial being and might not be familiar with terrestrial modes of communication, let me explain to you what an Open letter is. Unlike earlier, where letters used to be folded and sealed and opened only on delivery, open letters remain open...well, all the time. It is usually read by everyone else before the person who it is actually addressed to. My guess is that before it reaches you, Naarada Muni would have already gotten the wind of the contents here and would have given you a hint about the whole thing.

Lord, do you know that I find Narada Muni’s job very fascinating? Collecting intelligence and passing it on to people for the ‘greater good’. My job is similar... in a very different way. Anyway, where was I? Yes... Ekadanta, Vakratunda... Lord... I am very scared. Aren’t you the Lord of Lords, the only God who can remove all obstacles from our path?

Now, haven’t we been told to invoke your name before we begin any task? Yes or no? Yes. And yet... and yet... what did we do? We started a task last week, without as much remembering you. We started Cow protection. Yes Lord, we did. How irreverent of us not to have remembered you; Blasphemous!
Ever since then, there is some anxiety nagging me. I think it is just safe to confess it all before you. 

See God, it is like this: You know Church Street right? Of course you would know. It is the place where some unholy elements placed a bomb recently. After that unfortunate blast we discovered that the several piles of garbage on the road, in front of the restaurants and the Pollution Control Board, was an ideal place for these miscreants to drop off packages containing preposterous plots. So it was all cleaned up. Since then, I have not spotted any rodents here. Suddenly, the day before yesterday, when I was having my favourite Samosa Chaat at a shop here, I saw a bandicoot looking up at me from the railings of the drain in front of the shop. Everyone around me saw it too, and was horrified. That is when it occurred to me Lord, that we had breached protocol. We began the series of protection, with the Cow (after protecting the Cow, we protected Women by banning a film, protected Indian culture by banning the word ‘Lesbian’ from a film)... Thoo, look at the kind of words I am using in a letter to you. Buddhi Pradayaka, forgive me. Now, where was I? Ah, yes... As Holy as the Cow might be, how could we overlook you, Vighna Vinashaka- the destroyer of all obstacles?

Mooshika Vaahana, you ride on a mouse. We all know what happened to Chandra, the Moon, when he made fun of you riding your Vaahana. He was cursed. The curse was partially revoked by you later (It was so powerful that even you could not take it back completely) that even today, whoever looks at his face on Bhaadrapada Shukla Chathurthi, will have to bear with false allegations levelled against them. There are different versions of how exactly this incident took place, Lord. But what we have understood in essence, is to not look at Chandra on your birthday. Raama Raama... Who would want a curse like that?! That Chandra should have known better and curtailed his ego. This is the problem with those who are too much into their looks. Chee! But good that he was made to learn his lesson. Now, you’d think we would have learnt our lesson too. The mere mortals that we are, sometimes reason eludes us.

God, by sending that bandicoot in front of me, you reminded us that we should have started our protection drive with the mouse and extended it to the whole rodent family. Before it is too late, we should rectify this. We should immediately seek a ban on rat poison, that rodent-torture inducing man-made spiteful vicious venom. Plague be upon those who dissent this!
All rodents must be allowed to roam around freely. It is our duty to feed them and keep them healthy. Is ours a Western culture to chase away mice by calling the Pied Piper? Chee, No!

Once that is done, Oh Elephant-faced God, we must ensure that all elephants are allowed to walk free anywhere they please. (I hope you forgive us for the past, where our obese king used to ride on the elephant during Dasara festivities.)

That said, how can we forget your family? Lord Shiva, your father, sports a snake around his neck. Bhaarat has been called a land of snake charmers. We must not merely charm them but protect them too. Of course, we would also have to ensure that nowhere in our land should your father, the Lord Shiva’s neck accessory, mistake your official vehicle, Mooshika, for food. Well, that would just be horrible...One religious sentiment of ours wrongfully hurting the other.

Next we have your brother, Karthikeya, Lord Muruga who sits on a peacock. We must stop enclosing them in Zoos and start adopting Peacock/peahens, at least one per home. We, in Bengaluru, most often don’t have space to keep our two wheelers inside our compounds. Be that as it may, if we cannot even do this small task in your name, of what use are we? That covers your family, I hope. 
Moving on, Lord Vishnu, the Shesha Shayana’s interest is partially taken care of by protecting your father’s neck piece. But the God of Gods that he is, he has ten avatars. We have to begin at the beginning: Matsyaavatara (how dare mere mortals cast fishing net to capture the Lord?), Kurmaavatara (If a hare ever races a tortoise, the tortoise must be declared the winner), Narasimhaavatara (buildings must be mowed down, jungles be restored, lion has to be declared as the King of the jungle again). But the king of the jungle, we must ensure, keeps away from the Holy cow and Lord Krishna, Govardhana’s flock (sheep and goat). We also have Varaahaavatara; the downright derogatory Swine flu should be named after some other animal.

There is no women’s representation, God. Kaali matha, Chamundeshwari, the Goddess of courage, has the tiger as her accomplice (Misuse of the name, for instance, as in Tiger Woods, must be banned). Here is a list of protections to begin with, Lord.

But I must bring something to your notice Lord. Those smug looking Cows are under the assumption that they are protected and are busy feeding on polythene covers from the garbage mounds on street corners. It’s all an unholy affair, no? What to do?

Please revert back ASAP.

IIEkadantaII IIVakratundaII Namo, Namo.