The sinking ship

'The dastardly terror attacks that took place in Mumbai last night and today leading to the loss of many precious lives and injuries to many others have deeply shocked the nation. I strongly condemn these acts of senseless violence against innocent people, including guests from foreign countries.'- Manmohan Singh

What would a bureaucrat say that hasn't been already said. Mumbai, the Greatest Indian city has been a mute witness to previous attacks. Mumbaikars have always found courage and pride post a terror attack to get back on their feet and steady themselves. The Phoenix has always risen from the ashes. This latest attack, however is quite different for a number of reasons per Se.

This time, the Corporate face of India has been hit badly. The Taj Hotel, a century old in fires. When would one have pictured such a situation. This is a direct hit on a Country whose face value is often synonymous with growth, power and urban development. One with many phases and faces. One with dreams. One with an unimaginable urban rural divide. One where realities hit hard.

Over 150 dead. Mr Patil seemed so indifferent again. He's more concerned about his frigging looks. One expects a leader to show emotions. Yet his voice was so monotonous, lacking urgency. Money was promised again. A poor little taxi driver lost 7 of his family members. What kind of hope would keep him going? What will he do with the money. It will never get his kin back. He will never get rid of the guilt, even though he's guilty of nothing. Blame he will take for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Justice is such an ambiguous term. It surely won't be delivered soon. There is no political will to say that this wouldn't happen again. The bureaucrats would be thinking- 'aaj ki maal nahi mili'. The political forces unified just in front of the camera.

Common man cannot even vent his anger. If one makes derogatory comments, he is quickly apprehended. This blogging portal isn't safe either. The Mumbaikar couldn't even watch t.v as it was blank. No source of information on the attacks. The fear and the anger all magnified by frightening proportions. Must we get used to this Orwellian environment, with Big Brother watching us, rather than the damn militants? They came, they saw and fired. And our intelligence was sitting on its backside and sipping ice candy!!! We better get used to this soon.
But in all this chaos, i see hope. Hope for "change" (as Obama puts it). The vital ingredients for such a change being, next time, a few vvips lying in a pool of blood. This collage of images will be etched on my mind forever. Hope, my friend, is a dicey emotion! Jai Hind!

P:S- A ship with many innocents is sinking fast. An s.o.s call was sounded ages ago. Will we respond? Perhaps one of the innocents is a protege of a bureaucrat.

Up the irons!!!

It was 18:43 Indian standard time( I remember this clearly because i glanced at my watch). After my usual quota of mail checking and googling nonsense, i visited the Iron Maiden website,partly because i was pretty bored (I was humming an maiden tune so this could be why). Then out of the blue, i see this icon that says that they're going to embark on a return leg of their very successful world tour. My heart skips a beat (maybe even 3:P). I scroll down to read further and then i see 'Bangalore' clearly highlighted.

What can i say. This was probably my most pleasing and gleeful moment of the whole year.Easily. I fumble with my phone, can't wait to call up my maiden buddies and break them the "news". For obvious reasons, I'm restless. My body is trembling. An exuberant shudder flows through my spine!!! Hell this is huge.

As i look back and ponder my reactions, i realise why i felt that way. Simply put- Maiden writes about things that matter. War and Religion, hope and solace, Death and destruction. These are matters of colossal interest to me. We're all looking for answers to life's testing questions.
What Maiden really does, is provide a vent where they, along with their zillions of fans, unite for a common cause. One where we're encouraged to step out of our safety zones, one where we should follow our hearts. If it's metal, then it has to be Iron Maiden.
Bruce always puts a lot of emotions into his voice. He has what one would call "ownage".When the air raid siren is going to say- scream for me BANGALORE!!(at high octaves:d), he knows what's coming onto him- A humdinger of a time. 15 Feb 2009, I'm already counting the days.See you fellow maiden-heads there.
P:S- Isn't it ironic how our parents would say they're noise, but we consider them to be Gods!!

Oppenheimer's guilt

The 'Aryans' tirade against the Jews and their ideology that they were an inferior race was probably the most cruel excuse that they could use as an excuse for merciless killing.
Perhaps it all had to do with Hitler's stature, his oratory skills, his drilling of shitty ideas and delusions into common man. All the Germans really wanted was some kind of revolution, one that would sweep them off their feet. One that they would be proud of.
Instead all they got was a totalitarian environment, where culture and art were virtual terms, one where they were drilled with anti-Semitic ethics, one where, at the behest of Adolf Hitler, they would ultimately feel guilt. Guilt for indirectly being responsible for the death of millions. Guilt so immense that one would not speak about Nazi atrocities to his innocent children. Guilt that would finally be passed on and on till the spell of doom.
World War 2 was again an excuse for killing shit loads. What is appalling was the sheer scale of the war.The "i don't give a rats ass" attitude of those responsible for death. How death was relative and so was loss. Soldiers were forgotten warriors in this lost cause. Oppenheimer removed all the uncertainty when he made the atomic bomb. He made certain an impending doom. A doom in which, ironically, mothers would finally not have to worry if their sons were coming back home. When D-day did finally come, Robert glimpsed success, through the end of this mess. A success which actually was a parody of failures. For on that dreadful day, he signed the official papers of everything "nuclear", the papers of fear knocking on the back door, the papers of a nuclear surge and wipe out, the papers where eventually, the doomsday clock would strike 12:00. The papers that can never be burnt...
P:S- some iron maiden:)
Bombers launched with no recall
Minute warning of the missile fall
Take a look at your last day
Guessing you won't have the time to cry

Out of the the universe, a strange light was born
Unholy union, trinity reformed

Curiosity kills the...child

The terrorists have struck... again. As blatantly as humanely possible. But they've made their point. First Bangalore- they say that was just a dry run. Then the blasts in Jaipur and Ahmedabad taking many lives.
The latest strike was one that hit mehraulli in Delhi, although it didn't take many people with it ( That's the only consolation we get). One dead and about 20 injured said the official press release.. Just one person, the government would be thinking. That's the value of Human life. They quickly announce a lakh or two as compensation for the family of the deceased. They promise jobs. They make promises.
Statements are made. - The security is being reviewed.. please maintain calm and peace. We are doing all we can to get the situation under control. The culprits will be soon apprehended.
That is all to it. We must find comfort in these statements. Statements that are just said as a matter of fact.Statements that don't mean anything.
Questions are fired at the bureaucrats... They are answered plainly and flatly. The conference is wrapped up. The media have their share of debates... The BJP blame the UPA. They ask for the resignation of the P.M and the Home minister. Blame games start. The Home minister changes his attire 3 times and addresses the media. People say He's more concerned about his looks.
They're fighting fire with fire.
All this, when in some dark corner, the little victim's parents are crying unconsoled. For only they know what they've lost and the cost of it. For only they know the real feeling of loss. No one can measure such a bereavement. The only justice that may nullify their sorrows is that the terrorists are caught and hung. But we know very well their fate.
Afzal is still living. The terrorists will live too.
This is the price an innocent child had to pay for picking what he thought was a dropped parcel.
Innocence-that's all there is to it. His genious can never be realised. His parents will mourn his loss forever... The sun rises again... The little boy is forgotten... We continue to live our lives not knowing who will go next... Living with the fear that God may take us any moment. Life is cheap...Isn't it?