Indian Politics: A Critical Deconstruction

Indian PoliticsOnce upon a time, there was a whore who refused to take a bath. She was the biggest whore in all the world. No other member of her profession could match her for size. She could single-handedly take on a gang of twenty men and still beat them all to pulp with brute strength. She was widely known for her prowess and her surprisingly good heart, and everyone respected her. She wanted nothing more than to whore around and make money, something that she’d been doing for almost six decades now. The one thing no one liked about her was the fact that she didn’t take a bath.

She used to take a bath in the past, some fifty years ago, but now, she just couldn’t get herself to do it. She used to carry on her flesh trade using nothing more than deodorant. When she forgot the deo, her stink would announce her arrival five minutes in advance. Yet, she never had a dearth of customers. Buying her services gave people a sense of false pride, something that was an archaic notion in itself. People would line up to wait for her just to be able to spend a few precious moments with her, so that they could be branded with her stinking sigil. They would use it in their résumés, and their families would be proud of their achievement. The fact that they’d just participated in prostitution was never a problem. People didn’t talk about the ethical, legal and moral quandaries in using the services of a whore. These things were swept under the carpets and the mattresses or locked in cabinets, never to be spoken of.

The whore who never took a bath had a certain reputation that she wasn’t proud of: she had been the cause of more deaths in her country than any disease, calamity or natural disaster. She wielded her heavy hand as a weapon and swatted away anyone who dared to come forward to clean her. She used people’s religious beliefs to get under their skin and convinced them to kill other people with different religious beliefs. In fact, her refusal to clean herself up was so notoriously known that even people in other countries were afraid to do anything lest they become scarred and soiled. The whore went on mercilessly killing innocent people in order to satisfy herself of her uncleanliness. A lot of people tried to clean her and were either soiled or killed off as expendables.

Indian politics is, in one word, dirty.

PS: The whore in question has agreed not to sue me for calling her a whore. 

Hunger Strike!

hunger strikeWe Indians have a peculiarly unique way of demanding justice. We stop eating and call a press conference.

It all started with the great Mahatma Gandhi, who went on a hunger strike to oppose the tyranny of the British Raj, back in the 1930s and 1940s. This habit has not died after we got our independence. Every time the government does something that someone doesn’t approve of, a hunger strike is called along with a press conference.

Recently, Anna Hazare did it to oppose corruption in the government. He was hailed as the present Mahatma and the press jumped to draw parallels with him and the original Mahatma. They called it the new Freedom Struggle. And more recently, a guy who made his living doing yoga, Baba Ramdev, went on a hunger strike and no one knows the reason why. I’m sure he gave a laundry list of reasons for doing what he did, but no one really understood them.

It’s like an infectious disease here in India. If one person goes on a hunger strike, it spreads like a virus on heat and before you know it, your neighbor’s on a hunger strike against the local corporation office demanding better roads and clean water. It’s about time I joined in the fun.

I am going on a hunger strike from today onwards to oppose hunger strikes all over. I will eat obscene amounts of food and go on a strike against hunger until everyone stops their respective hunger strikes and eradicates the country of this ridiculous disease.

My diet, during this hunger strike consists of the following:

Breakfast: 12 eggs, 24 slices of bread, 2 pints of orange juice and a quart of coffee
Lunch: 5 helpings of rice, dal and a 12 rotis with vegetables
Dinner: 16 helpings of rice, dal, 20 few rotis, along with some sweets for dessert

I vow to not go hungry again until my objective is fulfilled. This hunger strike will prove to the whole country that I am quite serious. I will not end this hunger strike until all hunger strikes have ended in this country.

I am ready for my title now. I prefer something cool, and nothing with the word “Mahatma” in it. That’s become cliched.

If I Were A Politician…

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been drawn to showing off my accomplishments to others. I have been inclined to step over others for my successes and I’m very fascinated by money. Not money in the bank, but cold, hard cash. I have very few morals and principles in life and I am easily bored with uninteresting people. I love fame and glory and I revel in other people’s accolades. I have a very huge ego and I think I’m God. I love and hate people fiercely and I hate to lose someone I love. I love to lose someone I hate, and not just lose, but to see them dig their own grave and nail themselves in the coffin.

I am a fantastic orator and I can sway people with my words. I have a knack for convincing people to see things from my point of view and I hate it when it fails. I love doing shady deals for lots of money, though I am yet to do one so far. I love being on television and I love seeing myself being written in the papers.

I think I’d make a fantastic politician. Just what the country needs at this point. Someone with a sense of humor and the ability to make the citizens feel good about being fleeced for their money.

I think I am ready for it. Money Fame Politics, here I come! Or, maybe not. I don’t know if I’m ready to be assassinated yet.

Suresh Kalmadi Humiliates India Again, This Time With His Sausage

kalmadi 'pole' vaultingA few months after the worst-ever Commonwealth Games ended in New Delhi, disgraced Chairman of the CWG Committee Suresh Kalmadi found himself entangled in a fresh controversy in a string of never-ending disasters. He woke up yesterday morning cursing the day he ever accepted becoming the CWG Chairman, and perhaps, his own lousy strategies. After all, any Indian politician has to be an expert in making dirty money without getting caught.

I’m sure you all remember the weird, eel-shaped thing floating around in mid-air above the Nehru Stadium during the Games. I’m sure all of you, like me, looked at it and said, “What in God’s sweet name is that eyesore?”  And all of you, like me, tried really really hard not to stare that ‘thing’ directly in the eye. Innovatively called the ‘Aerostat’ (I wonder why), the sausage was supposed to be the main attraction of the Games. Unfortunately, it did nothing but sit (fly?) there and look menacing. And after all that crap about crappy toilets and collapsing infrastructures, the people who actually danced beneath this monstrosity should be given medals of honor for bravery beyond imagination.

Anyway, the reason I mention this and write a post about this is to reflect on all that has gone wrong with the CWG and things that continue to go wrong for Suresh Kalmadi just when he thought the worst was over.

Two days ago, a consortium of Australian logistics companies threatened to sue the CWG Committee and Kalmadi for over $500,000 in unpaid dues and held-up equipment still stuck in New Delhi, which were not returned to them. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, yell or ignore this ridiculousness. I also do not want to dismiss this as a “typical Indian mentality’, a cliche what I’ve heard many times and disagree with. This is not typical. We don’t hire an agency and not pay it once the service has been rendered. (We usually try to negotiate on the price.)

Yesterday, Suresh Kalmadi faced yet another embarrassment with this Aerostat Sausage Thing. When he was busy skimming off the top and fattening his wallet, neglecting his duties and allowing the Games preparation to dive into the ditch unheeded, the Sausage was taking shape very nicely. Except for actually working like it was supposed to, it did very well. The initial plan was to have athletes dangle from the Sausage and do stunts in mid-air. But then, as everything else, the plan went to utter ruins as there was no time for practicing, and no one seemed to be bold enough to sacrifice their lives for Kalmadi’s Sausage.

The Sausage has created a debt of Rs. 70 crore (almost $1.5 million) and the events company that was supposed to be responsible for the dangling athletes hasn’t been paid over $200,000 in dues for not ‘utilizing the Aerostat’s maximum potential’.

If you don’t say it, I will. “What the fuck.”

Kalmadi is probably better off managing some good-for-nothing department in the government like stone-cutting or past-recollections committees, and never again should he be allowed within a mile of anything that can be skimmed off of. Because if there’s one thing he does not know, its how to make dirty money and get away with it without bring the whole damned country to her knees in shame and humiliation.

Suresh Kalmadi brings shame yet again to his country. This time with his huge Sausage.

Do Your Part. Don’t Vote!

Ever wonder what it would be like to live in a Dystopian world without rules and regulations and people in power ruthlessly expanding themselves at the cost of the general population? Here’s what you don’t see on BBC World News and CNN International News:

The people of the state of Karnataka are currently standing around their TV sets scratching their heads and wondering how they became a part of a zombie movie. The local and national news channels didn’t have anything more interesting, entertaining or bloody than the crisis worsening in this state. And they didn’t have to, because one look at the mindless murk that we call politicians and their actions today in Parliament and we know that our chances of survival are much better in Raccoon City, without Alice. (Ref: Resident Evil)

Twenty to thirty MLAs bursting into a secure Parliament house, assaulting the cops, ripping their clothes off and trying to get past a barricade behind which hapless, unarmed cops are trying their lousy best to get out of the way of clawing arms, well-aimed spit and breaking glass – this was the scene that we woke up to this morning. And to think that we elected these clowns into office makes me wonder about the shortcomings of the democratic process.

India has quite a lot of issues to address at this point of time without the added ridiculousness of farmer-turned-politicians (who flunked 8th grade) acting like they deserve an award just for their existence. We have a crisis going on at the Commonwealth Games being held in the nation’s capital, where the very image of the country is being put to the acid test. Surely enough, behind all the muck over there, criminal politicians played the fiddle and made money for themselves. Geographically, the country is in a violent fight against itself to hold on to Jammu & Kashmir, where bloodshed has, unfortunately, become a part of a normal lifestyle. Power crises in almost 90% of the country’s length and breadth coupled with water and food shortages paint a very bleak picture for ‘India Shining’.

The word ‘Corruption’ is thrown around a lot in the media these days – this guy’s corrupt, that woman’s corrupt, the whole bloody parliament is corrupt. But what we fail to realize is that this apparent corruption is just an extension of basic Indian nature. Not human nature – Indian nature. We are a race of people who would do anything for money and fame. I’m sure there will be do-gooders who come out and make advertisements and write articles about how we are not a nation of thieves and how we can behave better and how we can avoid bribes, but in the end, everyone does it. There’s no point in feeling offended at this observation, because if you do, then you and the high horse you rode in on can go to hell. This is the sad truth.

So, let’s stop trying to change who we are and start trying to live with that realization. Let’s do our part in trying to screw our country over. I don’t have to be a member of parliament to do it – isn’t that one of the great things about democracy? Power of the people? Let’s do it, then.

Don’t vote. Ever. It’ll be fun to watch ourselves burn.

If ever a politician reads this post, then do me a favor. No, do yourself a favor and kill yourself.

 

Oops, He Did It Again! :)

Deve Louda Gowda - The Art Of Holding An Entire City At Ransom!
Deve Gowda - The Art Of Holding An Entire City At Ransom!

Every country has it’s fair share of jackass politicians and India perhaps has the most. Topping the list of overachievers is the supremely anal Deve Louda Gowda. He was the Prime Minister of the country a while back, and during his stint, India stooped to an all time low. He was notorious for disrupting the lives of the citizens with his absurd political campaigns and crap-all marches. Last night, he outclassed himself by holding the entire city at ransom. Here’s what transpired two days prior to the incident:

Scene: Deve Louda Gowda’s toilet.

For sake of convenience, we’ll refer to him as Fuckhead.

Fuckhead is sitting on the pot and trying to forget the past 15 painful minutes. At his age, he realizes that he shouldn’t be eating spicy curry for dinner lest he goes through this marathon session in the toilet again. He has his laptop on his knees and he is reading MirrorCracked – his daily dose of laughter. He reads this post called “Living In Ghost Town,” where the author has written about how empty the roads of Bangalore were and how he’s so happy that he reached his office in half an hour, instead of the usual one hour.

Fuckhead frowns and hatches a plan to make that author’s life miserable. He calls it Operation Manic Monday.

On the 17th of November, he holds the biggest political rally in his miserable career. Worse still, he holds this rally in the heart of the city – Palace Grounds. Three hundred and fifty thousand people thronged to the rally from all around Bangalore (Please note: People came from all around Bangalore, not from Bangalore. Over 1000 vehicles, including 400 buses were allowed into the city carrying the hopeful and the misinformed villagers.)

Roads are choked and the entire city comes to a standstill, in the biggest traffic management disaster the city has ever seen. Fuckhead smiles in satisfaction.

“The author of MirrorCracked has been taken care of,” he says to his personal assistant. “No longer will he write about Bangalore roads being empty. I have triumphed.”

The scientists at the MirrorCracked Labs were shocked and angered at this cruel, below-the-belt tactic that Fuckhead employed. They think that Deve Louda Gowda is jealous of Nikhil’s sexy beard and the luxuriant hair on his head. Maybe…