I am not a voracious reader, but I read a lot. When I find myself amongst learned and accomplished readers, I would skip mentioning that ‘Five Point Someone’ by Chetan Bhagat was one of the first few novels I read. He isn’t considered to be a serious writer. So if people say their favorite books are one of his, they are not to be taken seriously.

In the pursuit of becoming a serious reader or to be thought of as one, I find it hard to admit that I actually like Bhagat’s writings. But after reading his latest book ‘2 States’, I need to change my opinion.

First few lines and you are into the novel. You don’t feel the need to set some pace or to get familiar with the characters. You relate to them instantly. The issues dealt with are so commonplace. Conversations seem like ‘ ‘ve heard this before’. There aren’t any heroics or lectures. You can predict the story. You know what a character is going to say or do before you’ve actually read it. Then why read it at all?

Despite all of the above mentioned aspects, it’s a good read nonetheless. Let me tell you why. The simple reason, you just don’t want to put it down, it’s that good. It makes you laugh, yes it does. I’ve rarely laughed while reading except of course when I am reading P.G Wodehouse or sardar jokes by Khushwant Singh. There were moments when I’d to control my laughter at the very stupidity of a dialogue, a few very good one-liners which I rarely encounter in Indian English novels.

A North Indian Punjabi guy from Delhi falls in love with a South Indian, Tamilian (Madraasi as they are called by Punjabis) gal, that’s pretty much it. The whole novel deals with them, convincing their respective parents and families to say yes to their marriage, as simple as that. Well, that’s where the complications lie.

Being a North Indian, I could totally see what the fuss actually was about. And after spending four years in Hyderabad (though not exactly Chennai) I can say the fuss was not unfounded. The very meaning of the word ‘marriage’ has contrasting dissimilarities for these two classes or cultures. I’d refrain from getting into the details of this conflict, that’s for the reader to find out after or while reading the book.

What is worth mentioning about this piece of work is the true description and depiction of certain terms and phenomenon like being a IITian or a IIMian, being a Punjabi or a Madrasi, being a mother or a father, being a guy or a gal. I especially liked the part where he describes in great details what the parents (both Punjabi and Madrasi) look for in a prospective bride or groom.

There is a modern approach to the whole work keeping in mind the traditions.

Just to add to the masala, look for the description of a young, untamed Punjabi lass or the lines like ‘there is nothing as attractive as a pretty gal, similarly, there is nothing as repulsive as a cocky chick’  ‘put a guy and gal in a room, throw in some boring books and you know’ ‘if there were an entrance exam for the virginity I wouldn’t top it’ ‘are you pure? what was he looking for, ghee?’

I am going to rate it full 5 on 5, just for the sheer entertainment it provides and for the fact that it makes you laugh.

Pappu & Nauty have their breakfast together in a not so crowded cafeteria. As their names wouldn’t suggest, Pappu is naughty and Nauty is, well, pappu. Pappu can’t stop talking about any she who’s a five or above. Nauty is just happy to humor Pappu. At some rare occasions, Nauty would try to ogle a she, but Pappu would outrightly dismiss her saying she’s only two and a half.

Pappu’s rating scheme is very tough to score on. He himself is seven, or he thinks he is. What are the ratings based on, he doesn’t know. He just knows a number pops up when he sees. And so it was to happen, one day, a gal walked past them both, Nauty gazed in awe, Pappu put both hands down on the table and claimed, “now that’s what I call a six”. What???? He wanted to say a perfect ten, but then why a six? Even Nauty raised eyebrows on Pappu’s sacred ratings. But a man (or a kid) of his word, Pappu was to maintain that she was indeed a six.

As destiny (now that’s some heavy stuff) would have it, they saw the gal the next day, and the next day, and the next. Finally when it was well over a week, Pappu declared he had a thing for Chhaggi. He had to come up with this name when Nauty wouldn’t stop teasing him with ‘Chhakki…  Chhakki’, hard enough as it was to believe that even Nauty could tease, and that too over a gal, huh.

Pappu had never had any issues with ‘how to approach’ with shes who were seven or below, but to score a perfect ten was a different game altogether. It required sheer dedication. But as destiny (why does it keep coming) would have it, he spotted her sitting alone one day. Without a moment’s delay, he marched straight to her and froze when he got there. Nothing was coming to his mind, try harder as he did, “well… will you..” , oh she’s so stunning…. “ahem… will you have a cuppa coffee with me” (HOW LAME!!!  Of course she wouldn’t.. ). “What’s the occasion”, asked the gal. Oh she’s speaking, she speaks as well, trying even harder, (tell her it’s your b’day, your friends’, the world’s coming to an end, you’re from future and this cuppa coffee will decide the course of the future….tell her…. something), “How about I let it remain a mystery”, said Pappu finally. (AHH so now a gal will have a mysterious cuppa coffee with a total stranger….what a way to lose). “Thanks… but sorry”, the gal’s reply.

The rejection raised Pappu’s spirit beyond horizons. From then on, he would stare at the gal unashamedly, and with time, would get an unequally cold stare in response. ‘You never get a second chance to make the first impression’ read Pappu somewhere. But Pappu was ready to create that second chance, if only to…… Well it’s better to go down fighting than surrender, and so Pappu was getting ready for the final assault. And as the destiny (this culprit has its bloody hands all over it..huh) would have it, the gal disappeared. And Pappu was, well…. frustrated, for the starters.

After a week’s time, when Pappu could take it no more, he approached the gal’s friend. “Hey.. I am Pappu, I want to talk to you about a gal you usually have breakfast with”. “What gal..”, asked the friend with a genuine smile. “I think you know what gal”, Pappu insisted. “Yea, I know what gal”, with this answer the friend’s smile turned wicked (or Pappu must have been imagining). “I’ve been meaning to talk to her, but I’ve not seen her for a week now….”, quizzed Pappu. “Oh.. she’s coming late these days”, replied the friend, looking very concerned suddenly. His question answered, Pappu was about to turn with some satisfaction when the friend said, “may be she’s busy shopping with her husband” and left.

“I told you earlier, she had that air about her. I told you that her parents must be doing the talks of her marriage”, Nauty tried to provide some cold consolation. “C’mon man, that’s so ridiculous, how can you look at her and possibly say she’s married. We’ve been noticing her for over two months, no evidence, nothing, nothing that would say she’s…”, Pappu wanted to laugh at himself, though laughter was not even in a mile’s vicinity.

Pappu saw her again. She was in a short skirt. ‘Now a married gal won’t wear that to her office, would she?’ Pappu wanted to go to her but as the destiny (enough is enough) would have it, Nauty’s manager joined them at the breakfast table.

Pappu spotted her the next day. But he hesitated. Nauty couldn’t fathom. ‘What if she really is’ … ‘well fine.. you’ll get over it’ .. ‘will I..’ ‘of course you will… what a pussy’.

At last, Pappu got up, took those fifteen (yes he counted) steps to her table, ignored her friend and asked, “May I join you?” “Yea….sure…”, said she as if she was expecting it. “Did your friend tell you….” Pappu was about to complete when the gal interrupted, “why don’t you tell me”. Oh she’s a beauty.

“Well… as you must have noticed that I notice you… not notice… but look at you.. in a particular way.. Oh you couldn’t possibly be married”, Pappu couldn’t resist the dreaded words. “Well I am..”, replied the gal to clear the air once and for all. Pappu finally got the better of his nerve and continued, “Do you know how hard it is to believe that the gal, oh sorry, woman I’ve come to like and almost dreamt about is married. I still can’t believe I fell for a married lady. It far exceeds even my reputation.”

“It’s okay, happens. I don’t look married… well I’d take that as a compliment. But look, I like you, had I not been married I’d have approached you and only goodness knows what would have happened had you been married”, justified the gal with a care only gals are capable of exhibiting. “Well.. I’ll be okay.. even though it still is shocking. If I’ve been thinking about you, you deserve to know that”, now words were sailing smoothly for Pappu. “I am glad you kept the embarrassment at bay and approached me, kind of cute. I’ll see you” thus ended the conversation with the gal’s words.

Pappu got over her quicker than he had thought. And today Pappu saw the same gal. That inch long red sindoor, that long mangalsootra hanging around her neck, and her saree, every cell of hers screaming, “get it…. I’m married”. And Pappu realized, ‘she is not that good, definitely not a ten, seven may be, but six is more appropriate’.

Running across the garden, chasing the butterfly, always in the hope, next moment is when it’ll be in my hands, but alas that moment is only in my heart, for the butterfly has gone out of my sight. I still don’t give up the chase, such strong is the hope within that I begin to see the butterfly when it’s not even there. But to what end? Will the ground give way to an edge or will the butterfly reappear? Lost in the battle thus, I begin to cloud the reality with the fantasy.

So blurred is the distinction sometimes that the more you think about it the more confounded you get. Things are so smooth sometimes that the reality appears perfect, but then the thought, how can the reality be perfect. Things are so gruesomely awful at times that to stay away from the reality, to imagine a wonder land and stay in it seems more conducive.

Being labeled a ‘coward’ for running away from reality doesn’t really matter. It’s only people who label other people, and do I really care about what people think. Not facing the reality, assuming everything is alright or will be, seems to work most of the times. I need not face it, I may work my way around it.

Relishing the pleasure that success brings after a hard day’s work is ecstatic. Says who? How about having the pleasure all day long and deferring the success to a later day? Lazy, says who? Having lived each moment knowing that you’ve squeezed the maximum pleasure out of it, greedy, says who? Being too passionate in relations and carefree in career, a failure, says who?

Before this post gets too much to be bearable, I’d like to end it here, adding that I harbor such thoughts either when I’ve too much on my plate to think about or when I’m totally idle. However weird I may be but I think many of the things mentioned above do make sense.

Life has never been so easy. I am admitting this without any ‘touchwoods’. You work on the weekdays, celebrate and relax on the weekends. And these weekends keep coming regularly. Sometimes I wonder how come five working days fly away so quickly.

Prior to the last two months, I was busy thinking of the ways in which I’d carve out a niche for myself in the techie world. Now here I am, comfortably enjoying every challenge. Have I become a geek over night? Naah!!  but I’m just loving it here. Work is, to my surprise, interesting. The pace at which I’ve learnt in the past two months has been phenomenal, at least by my standards.

I’ve never felt so free. Free living, people love to call it independent living, but it’s actually just being totally free. You are earning. Need I say more? Money, your own money, brings such a sense of confidence (may be satisfaction or security for others).

Coming to point of living life like you want to, that’s very much happening and what’s not, is on the cards. One question that people still ask is whether or not I’m single. I’ve had this feeling, sharing it openly for the first time, that just for the sake of convincing a girl that I really like her or love her I can pretty much do that, with confidence. I’ve done it before only to find out that I really didn’t mean to do it. Girls, be more intelligent.

Coming to what’s happening, irrespective of the crap mentioned in the last paragraph, there is a gal I’ve taken a liking to. I’ll see her every day for a few moments. She will return the look. Who wouldn’t, when you’ll constantly stare? But it’s the approach with which I’m having troubles. Should I approach her in a ‘vintage me’ style, which involves a big bang ‘you are this, you are that, you are everything, you have the best assets I’ve ever seen on a skeleton’? Or should it be just a casual one. The casual one seems dicey. And the first one seems too out of line.

How serious am I? Don’t know, but never been confused with the approach. It’s the free me, the changed me, the new me with the old habits and old likings.

If the reader has confused reactions at this point, he’s actually read to the point. Coz, that’s how I am, confused, unintentionally though. There is a depth to this confusion but no content.

Don’t you ever get involved in the music you are listening to? Don’t you sometimes just lie down, close your eyes and let the music take over you? You forget about what’s going on in your mind or in your life and just let yourself drift temporarily. It happens to me a lot. I am sure many of you would agree with me. I was having a similar conversation with a friend of mine. But the thing is it’s hard to explain it to the others. I guess everyone experiences music in his or her own way which need not be similar to mine.

Coming to the title of this post, if the script forms the backbone of a movie I think the OSTs (Original Sound Tracks) form the soul of the movie. Now that A.R.Rahman got the Academy Awards Nominations for the best OSTs and the best songs, I gave quite a thought to it. Then I realized one of the reasons I like the movies (which are like my favorite ones) is because they all have great music. I am going to list some of the movies below on the same basis. I’m sure you must have seen most of them, but even if you haven’t you can at least listen to their soundtracks if you are a music buff.

The Good..The Bad..The Ugly

The Godfather (All Three)

Rocky(All Six)

Scarface

Top Gun

Pulp Fiction

Titanic

Desparado

Matrix (All three)

Bourne Series

Bond Series

Lord of the Rings (All three… in fact in my top 3)

Pirates of Carrebean (All three)

Once upon a time in Mexico

Sweeney Todd

Requiem for a Dream

The Departed

Across the Universe

Mamma Mia!

SlumDog Millionaire

Into the Wild

As you can see the movies are in random order. I just wrote a few names which struck me at the time of writing this post. I know I’ve missed dozens. The whole point is that most of the times it’s the music of the movie which stays with me for a long time. So just wanted to acknowledge the importance of music in movies.

P.S : I know some people will definitely want to kick my ass for not mentioning any of the Bollywood ones. Well I like A.R.Rahman and Shankar, Ehsaan, Loy. They have been giving good tracks consistently for a decade or so. And I guess our bollywood movies are already all about music and songs, so no need to make a list in particular

The day has finally arrived. It’s been eluding me for quite a long time. Promise has always been there. And finally time’s paid its due. I’ve turned one and twenty for the very first time.

I’ve been asking so many people, ‘did it feel any different when you turned twenty-one’. And the answer has more or less been the same. ‘NO’. ‘Nothing changes save some legal facts if you care a shit about them’.

I’ve called my mom like ten times in last four and twenty hours telling her, ‘you remember it was in 9^th grade when you told me I was still young to think about such a thing (some censored stuff), then again it was in 11^th grade, I was still a kid, then I came to college, I turned eighteen, but you didn’t change your stance a bit. Now that I’m twenty and one, show some mercy and tell me that I’ve grown up’. ‘I’ll think about it’, was her reply.

The day’s arrived. I’m smiling for no particular reason. It becomes difficult to suppress this smile every time I’ve to confront some one. Does it look too embarrassing to be so much excited and happy on your own b’day? But who cares, for me, I’m a jumping jack today (like any other day), excited over something special. It’s my birthday!

Enough time’s passed since I last called my mom. So I call her again. ‘So what did you think’, asked I with shameless eagerness. ‘You know, I’d come to believe that you must have grown up as you are as a matter of fact twenty and one, but your insistence spoils all that. SO TRUST ME WHEN I SAY YOU’R STILL A KID’, and she started to laugh.

So I thought enough on the ‘growing up’ and ‘twenty and one’ crap. I’m just super excited to be here to witness and enjoy as we do …… all the friends…….and some special people calling you…..texting you…..sending you those ‘sweet’, ‘love you’ emails.

So I just want to thank all my family, friends, not-so-good-friends, bête noire, angels and demons (who’ve been an integral part of my fantasy world since childhood) for being there for me and looking forward for the same. Cheers to all !!

It’s not even been four and twenty hours and I’m already missing it like I’ve never missed anyone else before. ‘Only one you lose something, you realize its true worth’, goes the adage. And I can never appreciate this adage more than right now.

Trying to get out of deep slumber, rubbing my eyes, trying hard to focus, my mornings began with it. The sensation when my fingers touched it, the enlightenment when my sore eyes gazed at it, the harmony when my ears listened to it, almost everything about it is unmatched.

It’s my ‘study’ tool, it’s my ‘fun’ time tool, it’s my ‘get serious’ time tool, it’s my ‘connecting’ tool. To sum it all, life seems so empty and shallow without it.

I know Toshiba Tecra-S2 isn’t the best of the notebook PCs. But to me it’s everything I’ve described hitherto. It’s about a week ago that its screen went awry with some ‘junk display’. Didn’t seem like a ‘screen problem’. Some suggested that the problem lied with the ‘refresh rate’. I waited for some miracle to happen so that it would return to its normal self. It was only a miracle that its screen went bad. I just switched it on one fine morning and there it was, giving me a ‘thumbs down’.

So, tired of waiting for some ‘supernatural miracle’ to happen, which it rarely does in technical faults, I took it to the service center. And now there it lies and I’ve no other option but to wait for it to get back to me (or for me to get it back).

So dependent have I become on technology of late, it seems life would come to a standstill sans technology. I remember when I’d some problem with the battery of my cellphone how difficult it was to stay calm and happy at the time when you get disconnected every other minute, and all this when I’m no technology buff. I can’t even begin to imagine what would be the state of things if all this were to happen to someone like Kulbir.

The title of the post says it all, thanks to my friend who coined this term for me, though inadvertently. So pathetic had the state of affairs become that i was going to write this post on a piece of paper . But special thanks to Kapil Agrawal who let me borrow his lappy while he’s sound asleep. 

Basic Instinct. The phrase brings to mind Sharon Stone, sitting cross legged on a chair, showing her…..well you know what. I do realize the importance of sexual appetite but the instinct I’m talking about is inherent in every living being, i.e. hunger. And I’m reminded of this now (at this very moment) when my tummy is stuffed with stuffy food.

Everyone has the right to call him(her)self foody. But as I don’t know everyone, so I’ll limit myself to my own clique. Until about a year ago, we used to hang out a lot and ‘eating-out’ wasn’t always the primary concern of every outing we had. But now it seems we go out just to ‘eat-out’. Once, twice, thrice in a week, doesn’t matter. And it’s only on rare occasions that we try out some new place. It’s the same old and trusted restaurants.

A typical scenario when we are in a restaurant.

STARTERS

Somani : Veg-Manchow Soup

Pankaj : Veg-Manchow Soup

Kapil A : Sweet Corn/Veg Manchow Soup

Kulbir : (He hardly remembers the name…so basically anything will do until and unless it’s suggested by Kapil A).

Sachin : Don’t remember

Unanimous : Paneer tikka

MAIN COURSE

There have to be two dishes with paneer, the rest can be anything. The ‘rotis’, ‘naan’ should have butter on them and if it’s ‘kulcha’ it has to be either ‘stuffed’ or ‘paneer’. We may go anywhere, the meal course would be more or less the same.

Contrary to this, let me narrate the scenario when I’ve been out with girls.

STARTERS

Pankaj : Soup??

Girl : Shall we?? I mean, if you want to have it then go ahead, I think I’ll pass.

Pankaj : (Of course I wanna have soup. But still shows some courtesy) It’s ok I’ll pass as well if you don’t want it.

Girl : Oh no.. you can have it. OK..lets have it then..but make sure it’s ½.

Pankaj : (yipeeeee) okies…

Pankaj : Paneer tikka??

Girl : Noooooooooo… I can’t have paneer.

Pankaj : What????? Why not??

Girl : I’ve to be conscious of my health. I can’t eat whatever pops in my mind.

Pankaj : Oh c’mon! paneer is healthy as well. OK for me… you have to have paneer tikka. It’s really good here (randomly…. It’s good almost everywhere).

Girl : I had soup when you so insisted…right?? (kinda intimidating)

Pankaj : Alright (beta yeh main course mein bhi katwa yegi….dekh liyo !!!)

MAIN COURSE

Pankaj : OK…order!! go ahead…

Girl : Oh no honey..it’s alright. You order. Be the man.

Pankaj : (happy on being called man) .well….lets see !!

Girl : Make sure….it’s nothing with paneer….

Pankaj : (what????) I knew that was coming….

Girl : And not too stuffy either…..

Pankaj : Oh…ok (and call me the man)

Girl : You’r such a sweetheart!!

And what’s more?? You laugh when someone is accused of cracking a PJ. But when you are with a girl you have to laugh when she cracks a PJ. It’s more like everytime ‘she’ tries to crack a genuine joke it’s a PJ, give or take a lil bit of humor. And there’s more. Recently I explained this to a girl. “Love…. PJ is a ‘poor’ or ‘pathetic’ joke…so you can try to avoid it…at least when it’s not necessary…” …and pop was the instant reply, “…ahh… well it can be a ‘pyara’ joke as well..” ….. now beat that !!!

Many of my friends have been asking me ‘what’s up with you’ these days. So this is a post to answer them. It’s more or less the same. Food and random (girl) talks.

P.S :: Not every girl is anorexic. So no offense

]]> http://pankajsaini.wordpress.com/2008/10/19/whats-up-answered/feed/ 8 pankajsaini http://pankajsaini.wordpress.com/2008/10/11/life-is-like-that/ http://pankajsaini.wordpress.com/2008/10/11/life-is-like-that/#comments Sat, 11 Oct 2008 19:24:05 +0000 pankajsaini http://pankajsaini.wordpress.com/?p=102 ]]>

How many times do you wake up to the sound of a ‘thud’? It’s the sound of an impact. How weird would it be to find out that the impact involved you and the floor? On top of that, how weird would it be to find out that you’ve fallen down from the bed onto the floor? No guys! don’t think what you must be thinking. I was indeed in a deep slumber. In fact I was dreaming. Now, NO, it wasn’t a wet dream either.

So much obsessed have I been, of late, with learning new words that words disturb me in my sleep. It’s hard to remember words when you are wide awake, so my sub-conscious seems to have started utilizing the sabbatical period to cram them even better. Actually I screwed most of the vocabulary based questions in some of the recent tests (CAT Mocks) that I’d taken. So I decided I need to improve my vocabulary but I wasn’t going to do it like GRE guys do. And when you follow an offbeat or unconventional method, the chances of success (well at least in this case) are rather bleak; hence, the obsession and the intrusion in the sleep-time. The above mentioned incident occurred when I was being chased by some ‘word’, although in the dream, the fear of being chased is still scary.

Anyways life is fun. Things and ‘unthings’ keep on happening. You just need to relish them. The other day, a friend told me how he proposed to the gal of his dreams (…phew…). He was egregiously emphatic. He said, “Can you believe, she said yes”. I mustered my courage and all I could say was ‘well…what can I say…shit happens’. As if one disaster wasn’t enough, another very close friend of mine told me about his latest crush that very day.

Tonight I was watching a movie. In the mid of it I got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello..”, said I.

“Hi…. It’s me…”, a girl replied.

“Alright…I know it’s you… but who are you..”, inquired I.

“What…how can you forget that after last night…”, she sounded alert.

“Excuse meee…”, said I, trying hard not to laugh.

“Ohhh Nawab…c’mon man.. it’s me…”, she sounded desperate this time.

“This is Pankaj….and it seems you’ve called the wrong number”, I replied rather sarcastically.

“Oh…shit….sorry man…”, said she as if caught red-handed.

When I narrated the same incident to some of my friends they suggested many ways in which I could have lingered on the poor gals’ desperation. And thus you get something to do BC about for the day. And life continues amidst all this!

P.S :: Himank, if you are reading this post, I didn’t borrow the title from your blog

One more blast in Delhi, one more innocent killed, a few more injured. Injuries will heel but what will not is the trauma or terror that houses itself deep in the souls of the victims. India has perhaps been the biggest victim of ‘terrorism’. Though it happened in Pakistan as well (don’t know why) but I want to limit myself to our own context. I am no big intellect. I say what I feel applying my own standards of humanity. So whatever follows in this post is my own opinion. But I am ready to face the flak if anyone agrees to differ from me.

When Bhagat Singh was asked to respond on his action of throwing a bomb in the assembly hall, he said, “bahron ko sunane ke liye dhamaka karna padta hai”, meaning ‘you need an explosion to get yourself heard when the authority is deaf’. Our modern day terrorists seem to be following his foot steps but what they keep forgetting is that no one suffered even a minor injury in Bhagat’s bomb blast.

Discrimination has always been there. Be it against blacks or colored communities in US of A and Republic of South Africa, be it against the Jews in Germany during the Hitler’s regime or be it against the minorities in modern India. However scientific or rational we may become but prejudices; deeply rooted social prejudices have always been the driving force behind all major human-inflicted catastrophes.

Religion is the single biggest root cause behind all the chaos in today’s world. I am not a religious person in traditional sense but I do have a faith in certain practices and beliefs. What I fail to see is how can my faith be stronger or better than that of a Muslim or a Christian? If I’ve my way I want to believe that religions appeared to bring stability to the existing societies, to put in place an authority which was higher than humans, to make them realize they have certain things in common, a kind of brotherhood where brothers share the same faith, philosophies and practices. People in different parts of the world came up with somewhat similar philosophies but different practices. And thus came into picture what we call different ‘religions’. Over the time, there have been minor or major changes in every religion to suit the prevailing conditions. But that’s all about it.

If we claim ‘Lord of the Rings’ as the crown of all the fictions ever written, why can’t we apply the same logic to various religious scriptures like Ramayana or Mahabharata or the holy books of other religions. Why is it so hard to believe that some genius mind might have been behind the creation of these mega scriptures? Why so much of fuss about everything that’s in them? I understand that people have come to relate themselves to their religions through these works but why look down at or discriminate against those who have different scriptures to follow.

What is it about a Muslim that is so different from a Hindu? Is it because the former was born in a Muslim family, a fact over which he had no control? I was born in a Hindu family, so I am close to the Hindu values but why can’t I apply the same logic to a person who’s from a different religion. Why does it have to be ‘me’ against ‘him’? Let’s explore the hypocrisy involved here. If I am in a business I hardly care which religion my client or customer belongs to as long as I’m getting profits. So why is there a discrimination or subjugation of one religion by the other when it comes to other spheres like what they eat or what practices do they follow?

Forget about the different religions, there are differences within the same religion. Take the case of Maharashtra. What is it that makes some people believe that ‘Marathi’ has to be made mandatory to survive there, when the preachers of such propagandas themselves owe their ‘surname’ to certain texts of the English literature? Why use political opportunism to vandalize public and private property and destroy the civic life?

Young people are the ones who have been the victims over the ages for theirs’ are the minds easily molded. Some religious fanatics making use of the opportunities provided by the widespread discrimination throw the youth into this hell of crusades or jihads. Promise of being martyrs or being rewarded highly in the afterlife or serving their religion are more than enough to poison the tender, uneducated minds. Sufferers are not these fanatics but the helpless families of these youth.

I want a miracle to happen so that I can really believe if there’s even a single element of truth in any religious practice. I want a person to come back to life after death and tell the world if he met angels or demons or if he saw the God and if he did whether it was a Hindu or a Muslim God. C’mon people everyone has got one life. No one has ever, ever returned and told about his experiences after his death. So why throw away this one beautiful life so mercilessly. Why is it so hard to make the best possible use of this life? I want to believe that no human, left alone, would even dream of killing another human, leaving apart the psychopaths. So why do it? Is it the best possible solution we can come up with to do away with the social and religious prejudices and discriminations of the ages? Is it human?

I think it’s weird.