DON’T MISS: DELETED PORTIONS OF INDEPENDENCE DAY SPEECH

Deleted portions of a leader's Independence Day speech.

     “Whenever we raise taxes, you angrily ask, is this ‘acche din’? Your anger on netas is understandable.  But you need to know something about government spending. I will share some interesting facts.

     We chose the best brains through civil services to manage our vast country and to ensure that our welfare schemes reach the remotest part of our country. Indeed, many babus, as they are known, are self-lessly doing it. The nation salutes them. But then, a few wise babus thought, when crores of public money is passing through our hands, why not put some into our own pocket (you call it ‘behti ganga mein hath dhona’). So a good portion of public money, meant for the welfare, is devoured by corrupt babus.  

     The story doesn’t end here. If you believe in statistics, government run factories are over loaded with work. In fact, babus take us for a ride by showing bogus performance reports. Factually, factories perform much below their capacity. It impacts many sectors and people. For instance, soldiers who are dependent on one of these factories for supply of uniforms are dissatisfied. But soldiers, without making fuss, quietly get their uniform stitched with their own money.  How sad? A soldier fighting his own battle! A simple decision to transfer his uniform charges into his bank account would have fixed the problem.  But, perhaps, babus “run” these non-performing factories for the sake of their livelihood.   

     Amidst all, it feels good when babus show savings in building a project. But wait, idhar bhi dal mein kuch kala hai. When I was doing graduation… (Don’t ask which degree) I met a babu who undertook big projects. I asked, is it possible to save in a corrupt system. He spilled the beans “Show estimated cost of a project as Rs.120 crores. Negotiate and bring it down to 100 crores. Finish it in 80. So we show a saving of 40 crores.  But what we do not tell people is, we could have done this in 50 crores (without bribe)”.      

     Now you know, to a large extent, where your tax is going. You should also know how much money goes in chai pani. I am told, one babu spends about 20000 per month on chai-pani. Imagine lakhs of babus enjoying with public money, meant to feed the starving families.  
  

     Now we are helpless because the rot has spread from top to bottom. 

     You may tell a politician - perform or perish, time-limit is 5 years. But babus prosper without performing. Many lobby for post-retirement jobs in the public sector. Their ‘addiction to serve’ the country is understandable.

     Now what? Impose swach babu tax? Rather I appeal to these white elephants. Ask yourselves, “Why am I using this ill-gotten wealth for my family. It carries the curse of millions of hungry families”.  

Jai Hind. Jai Hind.  Jai Hind"                                                                     

WOMEN AND STEAM

How can you add steam in a lady’s life? By gifting her a platinum ring? Not necessarily. An aluminium, two litre flat bottomed, cooker can make a lot of difference.  Try it. Women love cookers in different sizes, colours and shapes. Most of them own at least two to three cookers plus a milk cooker. And they are always on the hunt for the next. May be a Valentine day addition - pink, heart-shaped cooker.

But don’t assume that a man’s job is merely to buy a cooker and fix broken handles or missing screws. A man’s responsibility actually starts when the lady puts the cooker on the stove and asks him to put off the gas after 3 or 7 whistles. This simple task of keeping a count on whistles, while watching noise on television, can find him wanting.

 For instance, a woman puts the cooker on the stove and goes to the loo. The cooker starts off.  Then you hear…  “Switch off after three…”. Kya musibuth. Was it third or fourth?  If the food is over/under cooked, who do you think gets the “steam”?  “Good for nothing men”, of course. 

With women adding up more and more cookers, the responsibility of men has grown manifold. Imagine two cookers on the stove and the man tracking their whistles. Seven for dal and three for rice. Or three cookers on three burners, at a time, and then he is asked which one blew just now.

In my experience, managing cookers is tougher than monitoring whistles. Once, I put a cooker on the stove and went to the loo with a confidence that I spend less time there. Do I? Within no time, pressure in the cooker builds up and it starts wailing when I am still uh! errrr…. I am caught between two pressures. You can’t beat the cooker when it comes to building pressure. It also proves that women handle 'pressure' well. 

                                                                            

Can You Surprise A Woman

Women and surprises go together. They surprise us all the time.  Think of it. A female patient gave Dr Prakash Kothari, Sexologist, a surprise gift – a dildo made of 300 year old ivory. Poonam Pandey has a code for surprises. She made her ice-bucket into a …surprise, surprise….thighs and bucket challenge. The other day one Nidhi gifted a shoe-shaped cake to Anitha. Thus, women can surprise you in the middle of night to wish, kiss, gift and much more….

Well, men are not so good at giving surprises. A few do try. One man hid inside a washing machine to surprise his girlfriend. She was surprised at first and then shocked. This man was naked and could not get out of the machine. Finally, emergency service men pulled him out using olive oil.  Another lady wanted a phone. But she got a galaxy as a surprise gift. One could see her struggling to hold it. Wonder was it a gift or punishment? Then there was a man who blindfolded his wife with a promise to surprise her.  She felt something like a diamond necklace going around her neck. But he was actually putting a string around her neck to strangle her.   Such news of fatal surprises would discourage anybody from expecting surprises. But not women. Their appetite for surprises is enormous.

In fact, women have more opportunities to surprise men. Especially, those women who love to surprise men with new recipes all the time. Though the man here has a distinct role of a domesticated guinea pig, he is expected to put on “I’m lovin’ it” act with every platter of surprise. It can be anything from a ‘capsicum dessert’ or pizza with chana-dal-paste toppings. Here, the man has nothing to lose other than going through an occasional bout of loose motions. 

But the real catch comes when a woman expects a man to surprise her. Once my wife caught me unawares, “Can you do stuffed brinjal?” she asked. My kinky thoughts wandered… before she nudged me and said, “It is a kitchen thing”. Men…!! 

Yes, I am a game for surprises.  Once I surprised my wife by gifting a laundry bag. “How thoughtful of him!” said her colleague, Anjani. The best surprise, I gave, was when I took my wife to a movie, Om Shanti Om, without prior information.  I got the tickets booked and took her to the Mall for “shopping” and then flashed the tickets. It did catch her unawares and pleased her immensely. But she surprised me two days later when she celebrated her birthday.  My blunder, I confused her date of birth (25^th)  with that of my daughter’s birthday (23^th)^.

In the following birthdays (I got the date right), I gifted her an instant geyser and next a Casserole. I had several surprise gifts lined up for her future birthdays – emergency lamp, electric kettle, wall clock, mosquito bat and so on. She promptly surprised me with return gifts. The cycle of surprises was going well till Shruti advised my wife, “Do not accept household things as birthday gifts”. I am told gifts should come in Gold and Diamond. Which meant more trips to the bank locker. Anyway, this unaffordable option broke my cycle of surprises. Clearly, I have lost the race. But I continue to get surprise birthday gifts and return gifts too.  The latest gift I got from my wife was a Fossil watch. I got the message. I feel like a fossil now.  Gone were the days when I could think of taking her on a long drive to eat a cup cake. Now you get both, taxi and cup-cake, on-line.   

DISASTER ON AIR

Taking a flight after three disasters in a week can be jittery.  The fact that I was not flying over Ukraine was reassuring. But I had my own woes. Initially all went well. Flight on time. Air hostesses in unimaginable hairstyles went about their job under several x-ray eyes. They advised what, when and how to switch on our gadgets. Then they advised “Kindly save your files before switching off your laptop” showed how much they care about our data on the laptop.

Take off was good. Then the disaster struck.  A lady cabin crew leaned and courteously asked “What would you like to have for lunch, sir?” What do you have? I asked. “Veg sandwich and Paneer Paratha”. I chose the second option. “Sir, it will be served at room temperature”. Whose room temperature? I forgot to ask. The ‘lunch’ served! Two paneer parathas, each rolled into a silver foil.  First bite. It was cold and as hard as a ramrod. In fact, if allowed, I could have carried a rod to push the stuff down my throat.  Cost of meal, Rs.400/-.  Somebody should have warned “Do not accept food from strangers or air hostess however impressive their hair style or make-up be”.  If same food is served to pilots, you can imagine how turbulent the flight would be.

The second important thing I learnt. We think airport taxis fitted with GPRS are safe. Not necessarily. In the signal free corridor they over speed.  The fine they need to pay their operators for over speeding is Rs.1000/-. To escape the fine, they switch off the GPRS. Just before reaching the airport they switch it on. The taxi bill reads like this: START TIME: 10:07:13 END TIME 10:08:10. HIRE DISTANCE 40.7 KMS. FARE Rs.796. So in about one minute the taxi covered 40 kms!

It shows, whatever controls you have, the violations are blatant.     

My Trysts and Twists with Spiritual Gurus

Today, almost everyone follows a guru. Amazingly, gurus, irrespective of their hues and deeds - school dropouts or ex-IAS, caught drinking whisky or with their pants down, money laundering or land grabbing - find followers everywhere. I feel happy when people claim that their guru has changed their life for better. 

Though I live on the principle of do good without a guru of my own, several people have tried to ‘spiritualise’ me.  Once, a spiritually inclined colleague promised, “Make an eye contact with my guru, you will feel the ‘current’, and your life will be ‘insured’.” I went. Our eyes met, and…..neither current nor insurance happened. Next, I was herded to a question-answer session.  The disciples asked their guru some sort of intellectual sounding questions. He always smiled before giving his profound sounding answers. Why smile? Was it because the questions were faltoo? Or, possibly the questions were leaked before the session. 

Later, I was taken to a hall. It had a map showing their branches all over the world and photos of guru with politicians and some white skinned disciples prostrating. I also found stacks of books written by/for/on the guru.  My colleague gifted me books to open my ‘spiritual window’.  Kundis of my window were too jammed to open. A few months later, the guru died and the ashram was left to his confidants to wrestle for their share of fortune. It was apparent that only a small portion of donations they received were spent on charity and the rest was stashed away. How ironic, gurus who wear nighties or dhotis all their life leave behind tons of unused wealth.   

   

Once, I was almost made into a follower of Baba Ramdev. The heavy breathing ‘Pranayam’ had become a new mode of communication.  People in office, trains and even bars talked about it. Thanks to the Baba, the cheapest veggie like bottle gourd which was profusely used in hostel canteens became a health product. Baba followers were seen everywhere, teaching yoga and selling magic pellets. For me, following the Baba meant moving lazy bones and panting. So I preferred the easier option of using his tooth paste. 

After undergoing the grind of gurus and gurugiri, a few facts are obvious. The drill is same – Q&A, maps, smiles, books, photos, fleet of high-end cars and an omnipresent donation box.  Interestingly, almost all our gurus live in enormous plush ashrams and their core role is to make money, right from charging parking fee for the non-existent parking area. A part of their fortune is spent on charity so that it acts as a honey trap to get more donations. Their wealthy ‘disciples’ are ever ready to offer them anything from imported bathroom fittings to high end cars. Tch! Tch! gurus who preach humility, simplicity and stress free life, can’t resist ‘offered’ luxuries! It is so easy to sit in plush ashrams and preach. Unlike most of us, they don’t have a career, family, EMIs, bills to pay, book their gas cylinders or stand in queues to get their Aadhar card. 

If all these high-flying gurus have a common goal, say spreading spirituality and betterment of society, then why don’t they work on one single identity or brand name. Their billions of funds and vast resources can enrich our country. But who cares? Gurus are focused in promoting their own brand of spirituality. People have their own reasons to follow a guru but finally it all boils down to one point: – can you donate or collect donations for them.

I think I have seen enough of gurus and their gurugiri. It is so refreshing to be among hardworking and honest people who have come up in life fighting all odds than following a guru. I am glad to have such people around me. They are so real. As for charity, you can always donate directly to the needy people.

Note: The content is not directed towards any guru and His/Her followers.  This is merely a narration of my inability to connect to gurus.

                                            ********

HOW I SURVIVED “CANCER”

It all began with a pain in the right side of my abdomen. The Google search revealed that it could also be a sign of colon cancer. It tensed me up and triggered acidity.  Once I woke up at midnight with a burning sensation in the stomach and chest.  I thought those were my last moments and its all over.  I looked at my wife and child and thought, how would they live without me and with my pension. Just then I felt like eating something (the last supper?). I ate a banana and after sometime fell asleep.  I woke up in the morning and found that I am still alive.  Lucky. Then I decided to visit a doctor.

Before that, I discussed my problem with my friend Kishore in Hyderabad. He is always available to do research on one’s problem and clarify doubts.  Even if a pregnant woman is stuck in a lift, Kishore can help her, over phone, to deliver successfully. 

Manipal Hospital was crowded like any government hospital, mall, temple or Ramdev’s Yoga camp.  Doctor asks me to get a scan done ‘immediately’.  Well, my ‘immediate’ turn for scan comes after four hours.  The lady attendant asks “Is your bladder full?”.  I manage to nod because my bladder is about to burst after drinking water for the last three hours.  Report showed that all my organs are in right place and right sizes.  Then I am asked to get a Stool test and blood test done.  Next day morning, I raced fast on my bike like a pizza delivery boy with a container of my stool.  The lab which I thought is reliable had only the sweeper in attendance talking over the phone.  Then I raced to another hospital (felt like Kamal Hassan in Pushpak). Finally, the stool test was done and report was also normal.

All reports normal, yet the pain persists.  I felt sad. Nil reports and problem persists means more tests. Then the most loathed test, Colonoscopy was the next option.  This test you may know is done by inserting a tube with camera through the ass. Rather, an antonym of Endoscopy. The thought that my ass would go through a photo session made me queasy and embarrassing.  The preparation for the test began the previous night.  Two tablets at bed time.  Next day, early morning you got to finish two bottles of liquid to trigger motions. Soon the download starts. Hard, soft, softer, water, watery, jeera, dhaniya, rai racing down rapidly.   Race to loo was fast and so fast that I lost count.  I never imagined that my colon could stock so much trash.

Anyway, I reached the Clinic feeling a few kilos lighter.  The man at the reception greets me with “How many times did you pass motion?” Am I supposed to count that?  What’s in a number? My throat to ass had become a sort of wind tunnel.  The attendant asks me to strip and gives me a robe.  Wearing that, I look like a member of bomb disposal squad.  The process begins.  No pain as the tube gains entry.    I could see it all on the monitor.  It is like am going through a fleshy tunnel with a torch light.    Within minutes it is done.  Doc hands me over four pictures of my ass.  All well. Report is normal.  What next? Pain seems to have gone.  Whatever be the cause Google made me feel like a cancer survivor.   If the pain appears again, next round of tests begin.  I will not be going to Google this time.

                           ****************

KAHANI - LADIES CHAPPAL KI

Unlike many men, I love to go with women for their shopping. I help them choose or short list their outfits, and then finally say, this looks good on you. Shopping is done.

With experience I can vouch that ladies take more time to choose their footwear than their outfits or eyeliner. Any day, their rack would be choked with at least half a dozen pairs. Yet they always find a valid reason to buy a new pair. Their - or other than their – birthday, wedding, thread ceremony, mundan ceremony. If nothing else, they buy a new one because the present one, bought a few months back, looks old.

One can understand a lady waxing her legs for her second cousin’s grandchild’s fifth birthday (though she has plans to wear a saree, not micro mini). It is also acceptable if she buys a saree or gets a new blouse stitched for every occasion. Generally, the genuine reason for this is they can’t fit, even after removing a few stitches, into the blouse stitched a few months back.

But the time a lady spends to choose footwear is intriguing. She can move heaven and earth to get her footwear right. It is impossible to make out what kind of footwear she is shopping for. High/Low heels, small/big/thick/thin straps, flat heels, stilettos. Semi/fully covered, trendy but not gaudy and so on. She confidently tells the salesman “Give me size six”. But her toe protrudes out of size six. She asks for the ‘next size’. Next size will have a different design or it is too big or the heel bulges out. Though the salesman gets an opportunity to touch her feet with glee, while she tries all kinds of designs, he looks traumatised by the time she finalise one or leave without buying.

There are occasions though when a lady finds trendy footwear instantly. But within no time, her joy turns into disappointment. Her feet do not match the jazzy footwear. So a visit to parlour to get a pedicure done is imminent.

Looking at the dilemma ladies face, I feel, footwear makers should introduce mix and match designs. They can offer assortment of straps, heels (3,4,5,6 inches). Ladies can mix and match straps, heel, platform to design their own model. By the time they finish “shopping for bindis”, the footwear would be ready.

P.S. I am sure my wife would throw her new chappal at me after reading this. I am traumatized!!! Not because of her ‘hate missile’, but with the thought that it will entail another round of shopping for chappal.

HOW AN IRRESPONSIBLE FATHER CAN I BE?

People often appreciate me for being a great parent and a doting father for my seven year old daughter, Naina. My mind is always occupied with her well-being and all my efforts go into making her happy. Today, I realized, how irresponsible and careless father can I be. I am sharing this because I do not want anybody to repeat this mistake.

Today, 11 Jan 2012, I reached office at 930am with Naina. I left her in the car and entered my office building to record my attendance. I usually do this when Naina has no school. After recording my attendance, I go back to the car to pick Naina and leave her in the day-care. But today the moment I entered my office building, the fact that Naina is in the car totally slipped out of my mind.

I had promised Naina that I would take her for a walk during the lunch time. So after having lunch at one o clock, I went to day-care to pick her. She was not there. The Care- Taker informed me that I have not left Naina there in the morning. That was like a jolt. I ran back to the car. I had left her in the front seat. But I could see only her jacket. She wasn’t there. Then I saw a leg shaking in the back seat. There she was. My darling Naina was taking a nap in the rear seat. Her body was warm. She was calm. I asked her “Why you did not come out of the car?”. “You said you will come back soon” She replied. There is no anger in her voice. May be she was too hungry to react much. No wonder, she was in the car from 9.30 am to 1.00 pm without food and water. “Weren’t you hungry?” I asked. Of course, it was a stupid question to ask. “My stomach was saying ‘I am hungry’” she said. I profusely apologized to her. All she said was “It’s ok”.

I gave her lunch immediately and asked her to take rest. I was terribly shaken for what I had done. I went back to her after sometime. She was busy doing homework. I had to convince her to take rest. Later in the evening her mind started working. She says, it was so boring. I wish I had some story book and toys to pass my time. She asks “Why did you not come soon. Did you have lots of work?”. No work is more important than my child’s needs. Yet I failed!

I had read a few years back that a woman had left her child in the car and forgot about it. The child died of suffocation. To prevent any such mishaps I always made a point to leave my car window partially open whenever I left Naina in the car. That ‘wisdom’ of mine, at least, helped Naina to breathe fresh air if not provide her food and water. Now it would be wise for me to close the car window and not to leave Naina in the car.

I may brag about my parenting skills. Today, I have put my irresponsible act on record so that this mistake is never repeated by anybody. Please share this with others so that no child undergoes this kind of suffering.

Late in the evening Naina began to fire back with her own logic. "You don't allow me to watch TV for three hours. How can you allow me to be in the car for three hours?".  "Next time when you give me homework, I will go in the toilet and sit for three hours". I may have to prepare myself to receive that "three hours" punishment in whatever form she gives it. 

WHY ARE KIDS DYING?

A few decades ago, infant mortality was high due to lack of medical facilities. Now, medical facilities have improved to an extent yet young ones are dying.

Look at this, holding her baby in her arms, a woman was feeding her child in the balcony of her apartment. Suddenly, the feeding bowl slipped from her hand. As she tried to catch the bowl, her baby slipped from her arms and fell to death. Recently, a woman poisoned her kids and herself just because her mother didn’t give her gold as promised. An army officer shot dead a boy who intruded into his housing complex to steal almonds.

Deaths are rising due to negligence too. New born babies kept in incubators at hospital are roasted alive due to electrical problems. Kids develop complications after taking obsolete Polio drops. Stray dogs maul or kill babies. Innumerable kids drown in open manholes. In the last three years, about six kids have got trapped several hundred feet deep in the abandoned borewells. The cost of rescuing a kid buried in a borewell is less than closing the abandoned ones. Then, why not do it? Media gives a “live” coverage of these rescue operations but never bother to follow-up. So we don’t know whether anybody got punished for negligence.

Look at the suicides. A young boy commits suicide after watching his caretaker die the previous day. A ten year old girl commits suicide after her mother reprimands her about some writings about her boyfriend in her personal diary.

The most intriguing point is, why are kids dying? Have we become insensitive towards our future generation? Is it because of our negligence, indifference and lack of parental attention? We shower a lot of material things on our kids and expect them to be less dependent on us. Their persistent efforts to get our attention fail which is, perhaps, leaving them more traumatized.

As a father, I thought, I can make my six year old daughter’s life  better. I try to give her my maximum time and attention (which means sometimes ignoring my wife), more of love and less of material gifts, best things to eat so that she goes on to become a strong, healthy and brilliant woman. But then that does not seem to be enough. The other day I said “If you don’t finish your homework, see what I will do to you”. She, very curtly answered, “ …Then I will jump from the balcony”. Now I not only try to be  nicer to her but see that the balcony door is bolted when I have to be firm on certain things.

                                                                   ******

WE HAVE LAWS, NO IMPLEMENTATION

We are good at making laws and equally good at breaking it. Law bans smoking in public places. Yet, smokers are everywhere. Law bans using polythene carrybags - it's everywhere.

Sometime back, we were asked to register our mobile numbers in “do not call/do not disturb” directory. We did it. But unsolicited calls and SMSs still come. We not only get disturbed at odd hours but get charged for unwanted messages. Most of us crib about it but find it too trivial a matter to fight. You can fight and get refunds from operators. Then they innovate better ways to fleece us. So, what next? Expect more laws!

This season, we are fighting to get a Lok Pal Bill to check corruption. Do we really need it? We already have Central Vigilance Commission/ CBI and other regulatory authorities in all government offices to check corruption. There are enough volumes of rules to fix the corrupt. But they are not implemented. We never fight corruption at our level. Then how will Lok Pal Bill will rid us of corruption?

The existing machinery can be made more powerful like the proposed Lok Pal. Creating a nine-member Lok Pal will merely increase government spending on salary, cars, telephones, office accommodation and so on. Then there would be heavy lobbying from retired judges, politicians and civil society members to get a seat in the Lok Pal committee. Ultimately, we may be heading to an era of voluminous Inquiry Reports which will be dusted and foisted by rival political parties during elections. Corrupt will thrive.

We need to ask : Do we need more Bills or stringent checks? Do we need more laws or harsh punishment. Loop holes in our laws allow criminals to escape punishment or get off lightly. Look at some of the recent convictions. A police officer gets six months jail after more than a decade of trail for molesting a girl who later committed suicide. A cab driver who raped and brutally murdered a BPO employee deserves to be hanged. But he gets life imprisonment because it is not a “rarest of the rare” case. A rape is a rape. Why should it be ‘rare’? Abetment to murder: just three years and for murder it is ten years. In America, one may get 40 years in jail for sending Spam mails to facebook accounts!!!

Apparently, India is a land of laws and where people do not fear or follow law. We have laws for everything but ‘shortage of staff’ to implement. 

                                  *******

The Girl and the Demon

This is a story written by my daughter, Naina, aged six. This is the original version, unedited and unaltered. Read on:

Once upon a time there lived a girl named Kim.  She lived with her grandmother.  They were very poor.  One day Kim woke up at night and she opened the door.  She went out to play in the park.  When she saw a demon, she ran home.  The demon also came with her.  She saw a picture of God.  She ran near the God’s picture and she started praying God.  Then the demon came near but the girl didn’t open her eyes.  After some time it was morning.  The demon ran home.  After some time the girl ran home.  Her grandmother and she lived happily ever after. 

WHY CAN’T MEN BE ROMANTIC HUSBANDS?

Who is a romantic husband? He should take his wife for long drives and/or he should surprise her with gifts on her birthday and/or bring flowers and pink heart-shaped balloons for Valentine Day and/or take her out for dinner. Married women do discuss about the romantic side of their husbands.

 

Generally, men would do or would have done most of the above duties during their courtship days or during warranty period (say within two years of marriage). During this period one needs to explore each others intellect, among other things. So they would take every opportunity to steal some private moments and possibly dine out quite often.

A few years after marriage, the idea of romance takes a different shape.   While men think getting bullish after dinner is good enough, women still yearn for surprises. In other words, husbands are more ‘organic’ where as wives are more into ‘horticulture’ (flowers, et al).

  

As years go by, it is very difficult for a man to decide a ‘surprise gift’ for wife. Everybody can’t gift diamond necklace or aircraft. So you can think of cheaper options like handbags. But women want handbags “big enough” to carry everything and “small enough” to sling it on and it should look different from those four bought earlier. So you give up.

  

Buying a saree is indeed romantic. But you will have to take her all over the town to find a matching blouse piece. If it’s a “saree-with-blouse-piece” then its merry-go-shopping for matching petticoat. If you gift salwar-suit, the hunt would be for lining cloth or matching footwear. Women rarely find a suitable slipper. More often they buy it half-heartedly. Nevertheless they would be having minimum four variety of footwear. So choosing a slipper as surprise gift may lead to another round of shopping to exchange it.

You may drive your wife to office daily or make hundreds of trips to beauty shops or to the tailor to get her blouse. But a wife would always yearn for “long drives” which means driving into oblivion without any destination in mind and finally stopping after twenty five kilometers to eat an ice-cream.  It is not easy if you have plans to rest on week-ends.   

Yes, there are men who still try. On week-ends one man bikes around all over the town with his wife tightly glued on his back perennially tweeting in his ears almost chewing his ear lobes (a typical scene envied by other roadies). After doing his ‘romantic long drive’ part he ends up like a log.  For which he is declared ‘unromantic’.  

Taking wife out for dinner on her birthday is romantic. But ask a lady how romantic her birthday was. She would respond blandly with a sigh “Nothing special. We just went out for dinner”. So the novelty of going out for dinner is no longer romantic.   

I have known men who have tried everything to make their wives life romantic. Ultimately, they have realized that this drill is like climbing a slippery pole.

Apparently, after a few years of married life, husbands end up like duds and come up with silly excuses for not being romantic. On the other hand, wives become more creative and imaginative to show their romantic side. They would come out with surprises, especially from the kitchen. Thanks to MTR/Everest/MDH, today a wife can set the ball rolling with instant Gulab jamuns or bambino kheers and what more pani puris, parathas…

There are men who are caring and grateful to their wives for whatever they do. However, all those gestures are not considered as “romantic”. Being romantic may wane in men gradually. But if men “put on” a few romantic emotions, wives can at least paint the town red with “My Husband is Romantic”.      

GANDHI’S NAKED TRUTH

Gandhi Jayanthi is just another holiday and observing two minute silence on Martyrs' Day is very yesterday. Gandhigiri is outdated. But a blog on Gandhi has evoked keen interest.  No wonder, it mentions about Gandhi having slept and bathed with naked women.  Well that is one way of popularizing the blog. Interestingly, people have already started passing adverse comments on Gandhi’s naked truth.  

Even if the revelations are true, I feel, Gandhi’s intention was to test his restraint. Whatever be the means, the women who took part in this ‘Gandhigiri’ should have resisted. They had every opportunity to refuse or write a bestseller.

Today we have horny Rathores, leaders, swamis and an Italian Prime Minister who are making headlines for their sexploits.  Had they exercised restraint like Gandhi, we would not have had cases of rape and molestation.  It would be wise to remember (if at all) Gandhi for the sacrifices he made for our country. We have already made a mess of ‘independent’ India.  So Gandhi’s experiment with naked women in his bedroom or bathroom need not rattle us. We can get going without a blink like we do on Martyrs' Day.

Will Maruti End Up Like “Hamara Bajaj”?

It appears the pricing of Toyota’s Etios (around 5 lakhs) has shaken up Maruti Suzuki. It is reportedly downsizing  Swift Dzire to  cut cost by about fifty thousand.    

Being on the top of car sales over the years has perhaps made Maruti take its customers for granted.  For instance, Maruti’s popular Swift Dzire has been in the market for about three years. Yet, a top dealer in Bangalore does not have Dzire on display. Test drive is not offered in spite of repeated requests. They have very limited colours to choose. So a buyer is expected to make his buy looking at the brochure. Finally car is delivered in about three months after several false promises and commitments. Perhaps the lack of competitors all these years has brought about this lethargy among Maruti dealers.

I think most of us prefer Maruti because we believe its maintenance is cheap. It is a myth.  Now service centres have “replacement engineers” rather than “service engineers”. Tell them a problem, they will replace a part instead of repairing it. So you end up paying several thousands for “servicing”. A local mechanic would have done the same job for peanuts.

About a decade ago, Maruti owners were treated like kings at service centres. Car was polished and given a brand new look before handing over to the customer. Now the car, after servicing, looks more or less like a wet buffalo coming out of a pond with water marks all over the body.  They promptly make us fill their feed back forms. But their approach and attitude remains unchanged. 

Now market is laced with choices.  It would be interesting to see whether Maruti ends up struggling for space like Fiat or vanish forever like “Hamara Bajaj” scooters.   

Do Troops Need Good Food or War Memorial?

Even as the stink of murky contracts of Commonwealth Games is choking us, an audit report has exposed supply of sub-standard ration to our troops. The report says that troops are fed sub-standard and out-dated food. One has to taste (if possible eat) food served to soldiers to know what it means. If we can’t provide mere edible food to our living soldiers, building a War Memorial is as good as a “brick service”. We have read about supply of sub-standard ration in the past also. It appears, things will not improve unless ‘gentlemen’ of all ranks are served same food across the table. But then we cannot expect the colonial mindsets to change overnight.

We all are milking this country in every possible way, so we can’t expect the armed forces to be sacrosanct. In fact, we have no right to label politicians and babus as corrupt. Politicians have power, position and opportunity to make money because all deals go through them. But then, are we, the commoners, far behind? We either fuel or indulge in corruption whenever we get a chance irrespective of our class, culture or status.

The watchman outside your apartment takes his cut before he allows any salesman/vendor inside the complex. Officials in Passport offices reject applications of honest and law-abiding citizens on flimsy grounds whereas criminals get passports. A clerk at an electric crematorium expects a bribe so that one gets priority to dispose the dead ones (in the jet age people don’t have time to wait for their turn to dispose at the crematorium).

We the “honest commoners” always try to claim more than what we deserve. We subscribe the cheapest paper and submit claims for the most expensive one. We shamelessly use official manpower as domestic help. We blatantly use official cars for school duty and for shopping. We are paid enough to own a car and employ a driver too. Still getting a free ride seems to be our prerogative. India could have been richer by billions had we grown out of this “free ride” culture.

We pay tax only when it is unavoidable. We break a traffic rule and bribe the police or worse, use our contacts to get off lightly. And we label the police as corrupt!!

Why do we associate corruption with government employees and politicians alone? The magnitude of corruption in IT companies is unimaginable. We know how highly paid IT professionals line their pockets in recruitments, event management, and signing contracts for transport, drinking water and so on. Often, ‘entertainment’ parties makes HR executives richer rather than entertaining employees. So it is obvious that we the so-called honest citizens have no second thoughts in giving or taking bribes. But we expect our leaders to be honest!! What we reap is what we grow. We have no business to take pot shots at politicians unless our house is in order. Like charity, honesty should begin at home.

TIGER , ‘THREE’WARI AND SEXPOSURE

A married man was dating four women at the same time. His luck ran out when they found out that he was fooling around with them. So the exploited ladies hatched a plan to “fix” him. One of the women invited him to a hotel room where he agreed to be bound with bed sheets and blindfolded for a “rub down”. Instead, she cut off his clothes with a scissor and summoned other ladies to the room with a text message. Later they glued his organ to his stomach.

Anyway he can’t escape saying he was “framed”. Those who get sexposed by hidden cameras always say they were framed. So, we are told ‘Threewari’ (three girls and N D Tiwari, ex-AP Governor) was “framed” because he could not get someone an:

(a) Appointment with the President

(b) Iron ore contract

We don’t know the truth. But now people should find a more ‘workable’ arrangement to get appointments and contracts.

More skeletons. Recently, an NGO (from Uttaranchal?) alleged that Tiwari had asked them to supply “three Australian girls” working for them. It is hard to guess how many threesomes will haunt Tiwari in his wilderness.

In the woods is also Tiger, the golfer. Of course, he is a lucky man! Imagine his fate if all his women had decided to give him a “glue treatment”. May be he would have focussed more on his golf stick.

Well, the big question is, how did Tiger manage it with so many women for so long. And the most surprised of them all is former tennis player Boris Becker. He wasn’t so lucky. His affair (in the cupboard) with a Russian model got exposed which later produced a love child and cost him his marriage. His wife was pregnant for the second time then. Now, Becker has some clarifications to offer on his affair in the cupboard. He is quoted saying “I don’t know if a bathroom is a better place but it actually happened on the stairs between the bathrooms so there was no broom cupboard,” Earlier, he had said of the liaison: “It wasn’t even an affair. It was an act that lasted five seconds.” Just FIVE SECONDS. (Boris, you held your serve longer than that!!) And he gets a love child for that too (Boris, ever heard of - make love, not babies). Anyway, as expected his second wife is expecting. So we expect Boris will not do the stairs again.

All done, exposed and down. But one really wonders how Tiger’s wife was oblivious of his deeds for so long. Though my friends keep off golf, bar-girls and waitress, I have seen wives battering them with questions like: Where are you? What’s up? When are you coming down (from office)? What time did you start? Why did it take so long to reach? Who was with you? And so on.

Wives are so good at Time-Distance-Speed calculation that they easily get the scent of any “five second” break journeys.

You can’t blame them. Today, you have sleaze and sex all around. Even family type newspapers try to distract readers with sizzling wallpapers. One can land in trouble for taking some group photos where a pretty girl (all clothed) is in the frame more than twice. Imagine his fate, if he had shot a Kishfisher Calender. Possibly, some wives put speed governors to ensure that their husbands will not end up as ‘prem rogis’.

Taking advantage of the sexpose season, UTV Bindaas has come out with “Emotional Atyachar”. The producers of this programme help a boy or girl to check the loyalty of his or her lover. An undercover agent develops friendship with the man or woman whose loyalty is to be tested. Within no time the “disloyal” man or woman warms up to the undercover agent and their kinky thoughts and acts are recorded by hidden cameras placed in their car, flat, nightclubs, etc. Finally the betrayed boy or girl watches the tapes and along with the entire team of cameramen, etc., catch the disloyal partner “live” in a compromising position. Interestingly, the disloyal partners caught with their pants down accuse their partners of spying!!

N P.S.: It appears from google search that glue is more preferred option than hidden cameras to fix a disloyal partner. But mind it, criminal case has been filed against the woman who used glue and she may face up to six years in jail.

******************************************

EXPLOITATION OF MOTHERS

Like charity, exploitation begins at home. Mothers are the first and the worst victims at home. They love us unconditionally so they pay a price for it. In the good old days, a girl child was a great help for mothers. She would help the mother in the household work till she got married. Later the daughter-in-law filled the void.

Today, parents want the girl child to be educated and employed. So mothers prefer to keep daughters out of the kitchen. Their common refrain is “I wasn’t encouraged to study or go for a job. At least our daughters should achieve what we didn’t”. Thus mothers have dug their own grave.

Today mothers don’t have anybody to help at home. Say for example, a daughter goes to work in the evening, comes back early in the morning, sleeps through the day like a log. The mother waits all along to feed the log. The daughter wakes just in time to get fresh and rush to office. She throws tantrums about the lack of variety/taste and goes off without eating. At weekends, daughter needs ‘space’ to catch up with friends and sleep. So mother has no respite at weekends. We sacrifice our sleep when we have deliverables at office. But given a choice between sleep and helping mom, we prefer to sleep!

Why are we so insensitive? At work, we are very American in our attitude, outfits, accent, etc. We are individualistic and independent in taking decisions. We don’t want mothers to advice or meddle in our life. But at home, we are like parasites; we extract maximum out of our ageing mothers. Mothers slog to fulfil our needs. Sometimes they do plead for our help. But our schedules are so tight, that we hardly have to time for them. So back pain, headache, sleepless night, viral fever or whatever, the mother is right there on right time, i.e., kitchen factory. We are not bothered about their problems as long as our needs are met. In contrast, just watch how the mother reacts when we are sick. She will try all concoctions to soothe us.

A mother would sacrifice her comfort, sleep and entertainment for her child even if it is mentally challenged. On the contrary, an aged mother with slight wavering thought is labelled as a mental case and packed off to old age home or elsewhere. It’s like a cattle sent to a slaughter house when it stops giving milk.

I don’t say we are totally indifferent to our mothers. We must thank US President Woodrow Wilson who signed a resolution in the year 1914 for having a dedicated Mother’s Day which has been a great use for us. We can shower “Mother’s Day” gifts on mom. Giving mamools to postman, housemaid, etc., is customary. So mothers get nominated as one of those ‘service provider’ category and earn a gift. Being insensitive to the mothers’ daily needs and giving gifts on “Mothers Day” is of no use.

May be someday we may realise how cleverly we have exploited our mothers and may feel sorry for them. But it would be like getting wise too late. May be too late to say sorry. We can only hope that our apologies reach her grave and she forgives us.