November 23, 2014

Rampal in jail

There are seven vital places in your body, of which five are significant. Ganeshji sits on the small of your back; Vishnu and Lakshmi sit on your genital area, Brahma somewhere in between, Shiva and Parvati over your heart, and Durga on your nape.

There are two chants that are important for you. Previously only one, as taught by Guru Nanak was important, but now two are vital. If you have faith, even if the doctor had given you up, you will be totally cured, cancer or Cancer ka baap (father of cancer), cure is Guaranteed. If this Supreme Soul chants the first one within your earshot and you repeat the chant after him, He guarantees that you would not die, and supposing you die, despite the divine guarantee, then He guarantees that you would take human form in the next birth, nothing less. If you learn both chants and repeat them, He guarantees that all your sins will be forgiven and you would take human form, birth after rebirth and live blissfully until you attain moksh, salivation. That is also guaranteed. Thousands of people in the audience can bear witness to this serial guarantee.

The Supreme Soul commands that you must not go to temple or on pilgrimages, or worship Shiva, Vishnu or the Brahma. Do not hold funeral rites. Anyone can light the funeral pyre. No need to throw the ashes in the Ganges or running water. Just let it lie there. (Makes sense to me). Smoking, drinking and adultery are prohibited.

Do you think the trinity of Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma are the Supreme Souls? You are mistaken. They are perishable gods. Their father is Kaal, and mother Durga. It is no use worshipping them. Obtain gyan (true knowledge) from the Supreme Soul..

Now, who is this Supreme Soul? It is Satguru (True Teacher) Shri Rampal Ji Maharaj; He is the eleventh in line of the true Supreme Soul. He is the Destroyer of All Sufferings’. The Incarnation of God for whom everyone has been waiting for ages has descended to Haryana. The Prophecies of all the Foretellers of the World e.g. Prahlad Bhagat in Janm Sakhi Bhai Bale Wali, Jaigurudev of Mathura, Nostradamus, Lady Florence of New Jersey America, Prof. Cheiro of England, Hungary’s astrologer Boriska Silvigar, Dr. Zulvoron of France, American Charles Clark, Mr. Gerard Crise of Holland, American futurist Anderson, Jean Dixon of America, G. Vegilatin, talk about a “Greatman” (Mahapurush) who has taken birth in a Rural area in Northern Part of India

So you have white men’s prophesies to ratify the above truth. White men’s prophesies and certificates establish (guarantee,) the truthfulness of any Indian god’s claim to godhood. Recall Bhagwan Sathya Sai Baba who always had a few whities accompanying him to convince the brownies of his godhood.

Satguru Rampal Ji Maharaj, the current Supreme Soul has Indian witnesses as well on record, too many to name here. Among those who eulogize his powers, on the verge of devotional tears, is an ex-policeman who was assigned to guard the God when He was previously lodged in jail, his former jail warden (both probably thrown out of their jobs in the cause of their devotion), an IAS Officer and  woman of the Arya Samaj  are among the video-taped witnesses. You would also come across the testimony in parrot-like narration of a, six-year old girl who tells you the wonders of the heaven, Satlok, that the Supreme Soul took her to and showed her around. She had a glimpse of hell as she was being led to the heaven, but Rampal JI Maharaj instructed her not to look.

Incidentally, it has not occurred to anyone yet to look into the angle where gods take little girls and boys to see heaven. We have heard of Sathya Sai Baba who took little (mostly white) boys to arouse their kundalini and showed them heaven as well.

How do you know that Satguru Rampal Ji Maharaj is the true Supreme Soul? The original Supreme Soul, the creator of all three worlds, was god Kabir (also known as Allah Kabir, because  “Ved, Gita, Quran, Bible and Guru Granth Sahib all these are nearly same” –  who lived as a weaver in Benares in the sixteenth century. God Kabir, you heard right. The first Supreme Soul with his first name in English, and his surname in Arabic ( short for Al-Kabir, the Great). Alternatively, in full Arabic, Allah Kabir. He is the master of the universe.

This epic story, narrated by the Satguru himself, would explain how it happened. Guru Garib Dass who died in 1778 AD wanted to acquire gyan, divine knowledge. He went to god Kabir who died two hundred years earlier in 1518 AD and placed his query before him. In answer, god Kabir took him to heaven called Satlok. (I suppose that since gurus are also gods, so they are able to time-travel).

There Garib Das found a haloed Supreme Soul sitting on a throne. As soon as the Supreme Soul saw god Kabir, he arose respectfully and offered his throne to god Kabir. God Kabir sat down on that throne without hesitation, and the Supreme Soul merged with him. Now Garib Das realized that the weaver who lived in Varanasi (more than two hundred years before) was not just god Kabir, but was God Kabir, or the Supreme Soul himself.

Do all these stories appear weird to you? They shouldn’t. Not if you believe in the seven-headed beasts and ten-eyed sheep and a God who does justice by shedding blood of cities and the blessed men washing their feet as revealed in Revelations, or of monkeys with huge extendable non-flammable tails and super-superman powers who could speak Sanskrit , of god-heroes who destroyed 14,000 forest dwellers in one day to make it easy for bearded interlopers to do their weird rites to pollute the forests as in Ramayanam, or of a sun that rises in a swamp in the East and sets in another swamp in the West, or of the visible miracle of sky-dome being held up without a single pillar as in Quran, or of a god who could materialize Rolex watches with original label and emblem and all by his divine powers without breaking patent laws as in Sathya Sai Baba claims, you being an educated professional or whatever, why would the suffering villagers of Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar or Nepal think that the epic I cite above is weird?

Supreme Soul Rampal Ji Maharaj was born in a humble Haryana family like any other rustic child (just as Krishna was brought up by cowherds). He, having acquired a diploma in engineering, joined Haryana agricultural department as a Junior Engineer. While serving the department, he spent time practicing forty odes to Hanuman (Hanuman Chalisa) until he met a guru who enlightened him that he was wasting his time, that gods like Vishnu, Shiv and Brahma were perishable gods, that the real God was god Kabir.

Thus enlightened, Rampal Ji realized his responsibility and spent his time going from house to house and spreading this true knowledge. When the knowledge reached the ears of his superiors, who obviously were not pious enough, and had noticed that he was never at work, they told him to resign or else… Having realized that he was indeed the incarnation of the Supreme Soul, he resigned the mundane job he was supposed to be doing while proselytizing for god Kabir. If you argue that he was thrown out, the Supreme Soul can give you the file number and letter number of his resignation.

By then sufficiently enriched spiritually and financially (remember that he was a J.E. in the irrigation department where farmers worship you even if you were not god) Rampal started an Ashram – a resort for Gurus of the kind – in Rohtak in Haryana., A certain sect of Arya Samaj took umbrage when he spoke ill of their founder. Now Arya Samaj is a break-off sect from Hinduism, with a strong foothold in the area. Riots ensued. According to Rampal Ji’s own website, rounds were being fired in air from the ashram as well in self-defence, and a woman, women being always the expendable victim, died in the Ashram. Rampal was arrested and put in jail on a two-and-a-half year tenure. The website goes to show that the jail warden and a jail guard worshipped him.

While He had time in his Ashram, Satguru (True Teacher), also self-styled JagatGuru (World Teacher) Rampal Ji Maharaj challenged all the saints of the world. His facebook page sent out this “open challenge” :’

Satguru Rampal Ji Maharaj shared a link.
December 17, 2013
All the Saints of the world are respectfully invited for a Spiritual Knowledge Discussion with Jagatguru Rampal Ji Maharaj. The Spiritual Knowledge Discussion will be organised by and aired on Sadhna Channel. If anyone is incapable of affording the expenses, then all the expenses will be borne by Satlok Ashram, Barwala. If you do not come forward for the Spiritual Knowledge Discussion, then we will believe that you accept your defeat and that you do not have complete knowledge about God and His way of worship.

Quite expectedly, neither the Pope, nor the Ayatollah of Iran, Archbishop of Canterbury, anyone among the several Shankaracharyas of India, Nirmal Baba, Asaram Bapu or his son, Shri Shri Ravi Shankar who was once game for Zakir Naik’s challenge, and not even DR. Zakir Naik, the perpetual one-side debater and a challenger by his own right, accepted the challenge, thereby accepting their defeat.

Of his trial and incarceration due to a previous murder case involving his followers within the Ashram Rampal press release , the Supreme Soul said:

It is God’s rule that “Pure gold does not fear the flame”. Such injustice and oppression is being done by some contemporary politicians and corrupt officials. Some corrupt judges are even tarnishing the image of the court of justice. Even in Supreme Court and High Court some selfish judges are doing injustice for their self-interest. Even they, instead of justice, have only done injustice”.

Rampal came out of jail, and shifted his abode from Rohtak, together with his fleet of Mercedes Benz and BMW cars to a 12-acre Ashram in Hissar, fitted with massage beds, gymnasium, private swimming pools, spa et al for himself and lesser housings for lesser beings, somewhat like, I guess, the Sri Sri Ravishankar Ashram in Bangalore that I once stayed in for a week..

Here, in this Ashram, the Supreme Soul takes bath in pure cow milk, which is collected in large cauldrons for preparing kheer(a sweet made of milk, sugar and a cereal such as rice) as Prasad (blessing) for the devotees. Thousands – educated and uneducated, professionals and jobless, young attired in goggles and jeans, old in their dhotis and pyjama and women with babes in arms throng to get a palmful of this Prasad for eating. Who wouldn’t want to wash away his sins after strangling his or her girl babies at birth by eating any Prasad, even the thing that contains the sweat and filth of a Supreme Soul such as Satguru Rampal?

State Election came, and it seemed like heyday for the Supreme Soul. The two main rival political parties – the Congress and the BJP – went to Him for not just blessings, but also for campaigning by way of satsanghs (Holy meetings) on their respective behalf. They appealed to him just as Arjun and Duryodhan went to the other Supreme God (Supreme Godhead, as per ISKON founder). Here this Supreme Soul made a holy error. Thinking this was an opportunity for Him to expand His billions-worth universe of the faithful, He put up his price way too high. Even Gods make mistakes. (Remember how another Supreme Soul thought it was safe enough to accept burnt and piece offerings of Abel and to reject Cain’s vegetables and thereby got his favourite Abel killed?) In this case, this Supreme Soul offended both Cain and Abel, forgetting that no God is above an infuriated government supported by the (relatively unarmed) Hindu militia known as the RSS.

However the Indian judicial system kept grinding at its steady, albeit slow pace.. The courts ordered Rampal ji to appear before them to answer questions on the death of a woman. Expectedly, being the Supreme Soul with a following of a hundred thousand lesser souls, Rampal Ji rejected the summons with the contempt they deserved not once, but some forty-three times. Unfortunately, the courts interpreted it as contempt of the court and issued a non-bailable warrant.

Unlike Ravi Shankar’s more modest Ashram, Rampal Ji’s Ashram (also called Satlok, True world or heaven) had a wall twenty-foot high with 2-foot wide brickwork to protect the Supreme Soul from interfering sinners like the police and judges, not to mention tax collectors, the tribe cursed by another Supreme Soul, Jesus Christ, and gun-license inspectors cursed by one and all.

This Supreme Soul Rampal Ji keeps a militia of over two hundred armed men to guard him; and thousands of devotees are always on the alert to keep him away from interfering courts and arms of the law. However, just as every dog has his day, every god has his bad days. The High Court gave an ultimatum to the police : Get that man before this court in the next couple of weeks.

The police of Haryana, some of them possibly with divided devotion, got into action. The Satlok Ashram was surrounded. Warnings were poured into the ears of the Supreme Soul to surrender. The God had men, women and children shielding him. Those who were not willing to do the shielding were forced to do it.Rampals protection

(Photo from International Business Times)

Who fired first is a divine mystery. Police forced the issue initially by using tear gas grenades and such mundane weapons as lathis (bamboo sticks invented by the British for Indian police) . Supreme Soul’s men, fully armed fired as well.   Two policemen were injured. Five women and an infant  lay dead inside the compound of the Ashram. Not shot, no bullet marks on body, as per the postmortem report, but beaten to death by a blunt instrument.

Police detain a supporter of Satguru Rampalji Maharaj during a protest outside the ashram of Rampal in Hisar

 (Photo from Report of Reuters, New Delhi)

After days of stand-off, the Supreme Soul was captured. The police have charged him with what appears to be unassailable but what are actually hard-to-prove charges – sedition, murder and a couple of other crimes. Cop holds arms recovered from Rampal's ashramand bullet-proof jackets were confiscated from the place. Why a god who protects the universe needs illegal bullet-proof jackets remains a mystery.


Sri Sri Ravi Shankar who markets his branded Art of Living (AOL) yogic practices with all the fanfare and commercial skills that only a godman is capable of, but gingerly avoids all controversies, said of this Supreme Soul :

Events like this cause fear and disgust for religion and spirituality

Truer words were never spoken.


November 12, 2014

Now that Indira is long gone and fortunately (for her) forgotten, it is her Congress Party that truly represents India and its mindset.

Mohammad Yousuf Bhat of the Congress party, a candidate for the forthcoming Elections in Jammu and Kashmir, has stated in a signed affidavit that his daughter is a liability – in fact, his only liability. He only parroted the old Indian adage, often repeated by more women than men, “Ladki Parayi Dhan hai.” meaning Girls are other people’s property. What is on most parental minds has now gone down in a signed and sealed document. If you thought he made that statement by mistake, Mr. Bhat elaborated : “I have one unmarried, unemployed daughter and a working son. Since I have to take care of her wedding and other expenses, she is indeed a liability on me.”

That should sound strange, coming from a practising Muslim. The Prophet is recorded to have said, ‘the most blessed marriage is one in which the marriage partners place the least burden on each other.’ In Islamic marriage laws, the bridegroom is expected to give a ‘Meher’, a gift of money to the bride for her keeps – not the other way around. She needs to give it back to him only when he says the sacred words ‘Talaq, Talaq, Talaq’ three times in her presence and thereby divorces her if he is in dire need for money.

However, a few hundred million parents, Hindu, Muslim, Sikh or Christian, trying hard and borrowing through their nose to mop up two -and-a-half  million (twenty-five lakh) rupees, three hundred grams of gold and a Toyota car to boot to give a worthless behinchod to marry their daughter off sooner than she gets raped, you can’t blame the parents. It is one of those things in our secular culture. Mohammad Yunus Bhat was only speaking plain truth for all those suffering parents.

Bhat has only One point one million rupees ( Eleven lakhs) as per the sworn affidavit, which would wash away when fighting the election, and, seeing the latest status of his party, it is all going to go down the drain.

For the poor girl’s sake, I hope that Bhat wins, manages to wedge his way into a coalition ministry, hopefully Home ministry with the police – particularly traffic police – under him, and mops up enough money to relieve himself of his liability.


November 9, 2014

The spic-and-span, groomed-like-a-bridegroom personage on the right is Mr. Narendra Modi, usually referred to by the sobriquet NaMo.  Namo in ordinary parlance is a word reserved for greeting  Hindu gods during prayers.


Mr.  Modi or  NaMo has been given until 2019 to install a Ram temple in Ayodhya,  where a mosque was pulled down by Hindu volunteers in 1991. “The government has its own priority and it will work according to it…It has ample time till 2019,” explained  Mr. Dattatreya Hosabale, of RSS, a semi-militant National (Hindu) Volunteer Organization, elaborating an announcement to that effect by Mr. Mohan Bhagat, his chief. RSS has little regard for the Constitutional proclamation that India is a “sovereign socialist secular democratic Republic”

It was the telling support of RSS that elevated Mr. Modi  to his present status of Prime Minister of India. The 31% popular vote  that his  party received in  recent national elections has given him , by the unique electoral laws of India which does not call for a second or third round of voting to fix 50% plus majority, the number of seats to make an absolute majority in the lower house of the legislative body.

As soon as election results were known, or even anticipated, many members of the party, including members of parliament and state ministers had expressed the fervent hope that Mr. Modi will convert  secular India into a Hindu nation. Mr. Modi,  who was wiser to the situation than the rest, had tactfully changed his stand on the stand. There is a Muslim lady in his cabinet, another Muslim has been inducted in as a minor minister. He greeted Muslims during their Eid and declared, to the chagrin of some of his hopeful admirers,  that Muslims are as much citizens of India as anybody else.  He cannot, however, forget the warning implicit in his mentor’s  words that they are only willing to wait till 2019.

The one-eyed man with grisly beard and saffron clothes hugging Mr. Modi is Mr. Ram Yadav, popularly known by the sobriquet Baba Ramdev. Baba, like Namo, is also an honorific given to divine people although the word originally meant Father. Witness Sai Baba and Nirmal  BabaDev could be an ordinarily innocent Hindu name just as Ram is, but in this case it means a minor god.   Ramdev is a yoga guru who runs live yoga classes on television just as Indira Gandhi’s guru Dhirendra Brahmachari used to do  to the  smaller B&W TV audience of the time. Ramdev can stand on his head and make his midriff almost disappear by breathing the hell out of his system. His knowledge of statistics is of a high order. He once said that if all the Indian black money in banks abroad can be brought back,  that would put 300,000 rupees in each pocket.  That is, 300 trillion rupees or nearly 5 trillion US dollars, more than India’s best GDP figure. That putting 300 thousand rupees into each pocket without matching production would raise inflation to Zimbabwe levels did not occur to the  Baba who happens to be a school dropout.

While promising to bring all the money back without putting a figure to it, Mr. Modi is at the time of my writing this piece busy sweeping  streets in Varanasi – the constituency that elected him. Sweeping streets by very important persons and celebrities is supposed to herald a squeaky clean India.  When a VIP announces his intention to clean a particular street under the “Swatch Bharat” (Clean India) program promoted by Mr. Modi, the VIP’s minions spread garbage in that street and get cameras of obliging media placed strategically. The idea is that if a few VIPs,  moneybags like Anil  Ambani, some party stalwarts, Mr. Modi himself, even opposition leader Shashi Tharoor, cricketer  Sachin Tendulkar and a few Bollywood stars led by Amitabh Bachhan  clean streets once in their lifetime and get their action photos published, the non-VIP peasants, security guards and village clerks will start cleaning their surroundings every day.

Mr. Modi’s plan for a clean India is supposed to work like a Ponzy scheme : nine people, following the example of  the illustrious leaders clean their streets, and each of the nine recruits another nine (now total 100), and each of the hundred sponsors nine more..And so on, until in a short while, you will have every street in India swept clean, thereby relieving the local, state  and central government of the responsibility and expenditure of  building public lavatories and employing cleaning staff, and of educating school children, their teachers and parents not to relieve themselves on public roads, fields, river banks, canals and sea beaches. For a change, tourists will find it safe to walk on our streets, relax on our beaches and hike through our jungle trails.

Make in India  is  a hugely productive  slogan coined by Mr. NaMo. Make what in India?

From hardware to software, television to telecom,

Pharma to Biotech, Paper to Power Plant,

Roads to Bridges, Houses to Smart cities,

Friendship to Partnership.

Make in India.

That is what  a TV clip paid for by the Government of India says. I notice that ad clip on BBC channel frequently enough to make me wonder how much money that would have  cost me, a retired tax payer. You do not find any imaginative  enterprise listed anew.  We are already making  automobiles that are glutted in international market, and are choking our streets.  Ample televisions are already  being made in India by Philips to Samsung,  hardware by Intel to software by Dell. Building roads are stuck by absence of land and abundance of litigation. Housing is approaching the state where Shanghai  reached  a few years ago – too many houses, no buyers. Software? Is there an elbow room to get in to the crowd of  Infosys, TCS and Wipro InfoTech, not to mention a thousand others? How many BPOs and back offices for foreign companies have folded up, throwing out trained and ambitious youngsters,  never to open again? What money or technology in software? Can the moneybags from abroad bring to India. I find India-made Micromax (production begun far ahead of Mr. Modi’s installation of Premiership) doing better than Samsung and Apple in India. Our Chinese driver carries a Micromax, which you can buy in Hong Kong. In the meanwhile, Nokia in India bought and wound up by Microsoft.

What we need is not for foreigners to make in India, but to invest into our making, induct technology and automation to improve productivity with adequate provision for employment, and organize marketing abroad. Make in India is a naive slogan that does not appear capable of serving the purpose.

Think of Biotech and Pharma.  Friend Ramdev and advisory RSS are against modern medicine (euphemistically called Western medicine). Ramdev says he has the cure-all remedies, not to mention yoga that can cure  Aids , or at least make it bearable. Hindu newspaper once printed a news item that Ramdev claimed that he could also cure Ebola, which the latter denied obliquely – he said you can’t believe everything that appears in print, Ramdev says that allopathic medicines are dangerous and must be avoided. Why would foreign investors make something in India that Indians find toxic and dangerous? Why would foreigners buy it?

At the time of NaMo government assuming power, India stood at a ranking of 142 out of 189  in ease of business ranking – 28 points below Indonesia, and 14 points below violence-riddled Pakistan. Figures available in recent months on the media do not indicate a promise of sharp increase in FDI investment that would promote our interest while also serving theirs, which alone can improve India’s balance of payment position.

Mr. Modi meets foreign entrepreneurs with great fanfare, particularly Indian Diaspora, and get a shabash pat on his back for the enthusiasm and energy he displays – which is in  contrast to the the previous Prime Minister’s well-meaning and wise mumbles spoken under his beard without visible enthusiasm. A few words of admiration by the white man in the West works wonders on Indian’s self assurance that all is going to be well.  Foreign media have been providing those words of encouragement, though often with their tongues firmly in their cheeks.

NaMo went to Japan and got a promise of 35 billion dollars in 5 years. Then  from China a promise of 20 billion against a hundred million bandied about by Indian media. From America, a promise to make more promises.  Constructive discussions  in furtherance of existing agreement on nuclear energy which  is so important for power starved India – was barely brought up because his party carries a baggage of opposition to it, though now they claim that the objection was only conditional. Mention of FDI in retail is  probably taboo. In the  cities of Communist China you can find any number of multi brand Wal-Mart, Carrefour and IKEA retail  stores. There, alongside malls thrive breakfast stores, small grocers, fruit stalls, bars, wine shops and restaurants.  NaMo would be hard put to invite investment from Wal-Mart –  except through back doors. Opposition to Wal-Mart is another baggage that his party has thrust on his back.

Foreign institutional investment – the money that goes into equities, mutual funds etc, has been steadily increasing, thereby bloating up the stock exchange indices. This encourages the Indian public to gamble their money into stocks and mutual funds. Unproductive fund flow gives an impression of prosperity while the rupee value steadily goes down. Less the rupee value, better for the foreign investor, because his dollar gives him higher rupee investment, but worse for the domestic one. One day when Reserve Bank finds it has too much dollar in hand, it releases dollars in the market, Rupee rises, the foreigner finds he could get more dollar for  his money lying in the form of rupee, and makes a bee-line to withdraw the funds. Stocks fall like bricks after a mortar attack, and the Indian investor finds himself a pauper. This has been happening every few years, and you find a couple of your rich neighbours killing themselves like debt-ridden peasants. Gamblers never learn.

Both Ramdev and RSS give call to  Buy only Indian. It is another matter that the holy men of India travel only in Mercedes Benz or BMW.  While asking people to travel in India-made Nano, Ramdev claimed that he escaped when a crowd pelted stones at him because he travelled in a bulletproof car. What bullet-proof car did he make? I doubt it was Ambassador or  Maruti.  It is unlikely that he travels by an India-made airplane when he travels abroad to take a sojourn away from the million devotees.

Ramdev owns a Scottish island supposedly gifted by his devotees there. His trust claims the island costs only 2 million US Dollars; Enforcement Directorate noted it was worth over 20 million. Why and how he should send 300,000 dollars to a London bank and another 80,000 to Madagascar when he only buys Indian goods and puts only local ingredients into his Ayurvedic  medicines  is another question that hangs fire. Bone-products were found in some of his medicines, they surely were not of imported animals? I am discounting a communist leader’s allegation that human bones were used, and even if they were , they could hardly be mported from Madagascar for 80,000 dollars or from London for 300,000 dollars.

The case filed against him by ED appears to have vanished into thin air, much like Zakiya Jafri’s plea for justice has .  Ramdev had never been a non-resident, nor had he been staying outside India for longer than 182 days;  the Indian couple who ‘gifted ‘ him those 2 or 20 million worth of property are not his close relations. Why the income tax has not  hauled him up for not paying tax on that income of 2 or 20 million dollars (12.2 crore or 120.20 crore Rupees) remains another mystery.

“I have done nothing wrong,” is what Ramdev said in his defence. That is the stock answer of all those who have done many things wrong.  In the meanwhile, he entered the political arena demanding that all black money, all 300 trillion of it, be brought home.

All said and done, the embrace of two good men bodes well for India. What would happen  when Mr. Mohan Bhagat  and  Dattatreya Hosabale wake up  their volunteers in khaki shorts in 2019 to build that urgently required Ram Temples a matter of conjuncture.

We had seen such  conjunctures coming to life  in  1947, 1984, 1991 and 2002.



In June this year, while waiting for a bus in Bangalore I met a stranger and got into conversation.  I asked him whether he would vote for NaMo’s party or Sonia Gandhi’s servants. He said : “Show me an alternative, I will vote for them”.

The only faces that came to my mind were those of incompetent but ambitious nincompoops and thoroughly competent scoundrels.


November 5, 2014

RajanThis is the photo is of Rajan, son of Professor Eachara Varrier (also spelt Warrier), a final year student of Regional Engineering College, Kozhikode in 1976.  People in Kerala mention him simply as Rajan, the boy who was “rolled” by Kerala Police until his testes burst.  There were no eye witnesses apart from policemen to the tragic end of the promising young man – perhaps a few among them had later boasted how they ‘rolled’ out the young life.

 Now ‘rolling’ is a special form of torture invented in self-styled God’s Own Country. The victim is  tied on his back to a hard wooden bench, and a perfectly cylindrical and some five-foot long iron pestle is placed on his thighs. A heavy policeman sits on each end  of the pestle, side-saddle, as if on a see-saw, and rolls the pestle from the victim’s hip to knees. Not for the purpose of interrogation to elicit any information, only for the pleasure of inflicting maximum agony. While the victim screams, the policemen kick the ground to roll the pestle and discuss the weather and whisper the unique raping style of their immediate superior.

As was the custom, Rajan’s interrogation was to take place after the rolling protocol. IGP Jayaram Padikkal who till then sat on a chair and watched the fun was to poke into the fractured and swollen thighs with a sharp tool and ask : “Who stole a rifle from Kakkayam Police station?”

In all probability, Rajan couldn’t plead, pitifully, “Please, Sir, i do not know, I wasn’t there,” as the other youngsters did.. He was already dead.

There are many men, now in their late fifties or early sixties, to prove that was what happened. Their scarred thighs bear witness.

The pompously ranked deputy inspector general of police who ordered and oversaw the rolling operation is said to have been trained in Scotland Yard. When you finish reading this You would agree that the officers of NYPD and even those in Guantanamo Bay need the special training.

It happened during the infamous Emergency, a notoriously illegal and Banana-Republic-type strategy employed by Indira Gandhi to perpetuate her rule in the Country after a High court found her guilty of corruption, overturned her election and disqualified her from all elected posts, including that of the Prime Minister of democratic India.

Why was Rajan picked up? Policemen in Kerala, as all over the rest of the Country, were getting hold of anyone who criticised emergency or was suspected of murmuring against it, and making them disappear for good. The previous night, a police station had been attacked by young communist rebels called Naxalites. Rajan was not a Naxalite and was not among those who committed the act, but since his father Prof. Varrier was known to have Communist leanings he became a natural suspect.  Even more probably, K. karunakaran, the then Home Minister and a hardened devotee of Indira Gandhi and the presiding god of Guruvayoor temple in equal  measure, had named him  when the investigating officer, Deputy Inspector General of Police Jayaram Padikkal was looking for scapegoats. Kerala Police, wary of the difficulties in searching out real culprits of a crime, are always on the lookout for scapegoats. If you do not believe that, click to read this story of a planted murder weapon

There always existed gross enmity  between Kerala’s Congress-party men and Communists. In Kerala’s curious practice of democracy they unseated each other in alternate elections. Karunakaran and Varrier were from the same town, Trichur. That Professor Varrier was not an active communist did not matter, but he had once saved the life of Mr. Achutha Menon, a communist leader.  During the ongoing emergency, Congress man Karunakaran was  a subordinate Home Minister  and  by a twist of coalition politics, Communist Achutha Menon was the Chief Minister.  The Chief Minister feared his Home Minister, the Home minister hated his Chief Minister, much as he hated all Communists. All through emergency, Karunakaran and his  handyman in police, Deputy General of Police Jayaram Padikkal, ran the government with iron hands while the Chief Minister, the once famously brave Communist C. Achutha Menon remained a frightened bystander. Perhaps the memory of  the treatment he had been meted out as a revolutionary under Congress governments during the early days of Congress rule had rankled him.

“I will do everything possible, you know our relationship,” Karunakaran had assured Varrier when the latter approached him with folded hands for help in finding his son. The relationship was attributed to the fact Karunakaran was of the Marar caste closely related to Varrier caste. and both were from the same town. In India, caste affinity is supposed to mean close relationship but also, if you will, fraternal animosity. Karunakaran was lying; he already  knew that Rajan was dead.  In public meetings, Karunakaran claimed that Rajan was under police custody for a serious crime.

An exasperated Eachara Varrier filed a habeas corpus in Kerala High Court, demanding that his son who was supposed to have been in custody, be produced before the court. In the case, the  High Court had to deal  with  patently false witnesses, unreliable and vague  written statements from  Government Respondents and utter falsehood from the state police– the arm of the judiciary. The Inspector General of Police stated on affidavit that Rajan was not taken on custody at all, that relying  on information received from other students  that ‘petitioner’s son Rajan was affording facilities and shelter to some of the extremists, police was looking for him. But  by the time that information was received the police could not locate him as, by that time he had made himself scarce”.

Actually, in the morning when Rajan was forced into police jeep, several  students had been eye witnesses to it. Furthermore, the Home Minister, under whom the Police department functions, had announced in election meetings that Rajan was in detention because he was involved in a murder case. In India, eye witnesses do not come forward to give evidence for fear of harassment  If they do give evidence, they turn hostile under duress or enticement -usually both – during the inevitable appeal.

In its order, the bench consisting of two judges  thus noted:

A heart broken father, with his wife mentally deranged, with his home made desolate after the disappearance of his only son, with his two daughters grief stricken after this tragedy, has, after approaching the high dignitaries of the State and the Centre taken refuge in this Court as a last resort requesting this Court to exercise its sacred duty to cause the production of his son who disappeared from 1.3.1976.”

The  helpless Justice S. Poti concluded his order with much sympathy towards the petitioner Varrier and rebuke to the Respondents, concluded his order with a ‘fervent hope and little else :

It is unfortunate that the respondents have not viewed the matter with the sense of responsibility expected of them at least when their attention was drawn to the serious situation. We once again reiterate that such responsibility cannot be disowned as if it is some stray act of some police officers somewhere. We do fervently hope that the guilty would meet with punishment though it is not our province to impose any.”

Justice Khalid, Poti’s brother judge, gave a concurring, and equally toothless order.

The learned judges’  hopes did not materialise. Although Karunakaran had to resign his Home Minister’s job under public pressure after the emergency was lifted,  he later became chief minister twice and lived long enough to make a bogus claim that the party men had offered him Prime Minister’s chair after Indira Gandhi’s death.  Scotland Yard-trained .Jayaram Padikkal, notorious for his cruel ways, was convicted, but later acquitted by the appeal court for want of evidence.  They couldn’t find the body of Rajan.

Rajan’s mother lived a mental wreck for 24 years, wondering why her son hadn’t come home. She died, entrusting her husband with a plateful of rice on a customary plantain leaf – Rajan’s favourite lunch at home – to serve him  as soon as he came home. His habeas corpus having  resulted in a pious but  futile order, Prof. Varrier  persisted with more letters and appeals to any and all that mattered, became an active champion of human rights cause during his advanced years, losing hope, but never giving up, till he died a poor and broken man in April 2006. The poignant story  of his futile  struggle for justice was written in tears by himself in Malayalam :  “Memories of a Father”. The translation by Neelam is available in print. I found a an e-version in this link

When told of Eachara Varrier’s death, Karunakaran asked : Who is Eachara Varrier? His son K. Muralidharan, whom he wanted to see elevated to the position of the chief minister, now roams in Kerala’s political wilderness, a living joke for television comedians and newspaper cartoonists.

Why do I bring up this old story now? A few hours ago I read in the e-version of Mathrubhoomi, Kerala’s popular newspaper, that the contract driver who drove the dead body of Rajan thirty-eight years ago has now come out with the revelation  that Rajan’s tortured and mutilated body was first dumped in an ice chamber and later ground and fed to pigs in a government factory, ‘Meat Products of India’, Koothattukulam.

If you can’t produce the dead body of a victim, you can’t convict a man for murder. That’s the law.  Jayaram Padikkal went on to become the Director General of Police in God’s Own Country.


November 2, 2014

Bhagwan (Don’t laugh, the word means God, and there are – or there used to be – any number of judges, lawyers, chartered accountants, businessmen and politicians to certify that the honorific is well placed) Sathya Sai Baba is the true reason why there is total world peace today. Probably you all suffer from hallucination if you feel that world peace doesn’t exist. It does.  I have a divine statement in writing to prove the point.

In an interview with RK Karanjia, the editor of Blitz, an English tabloid that was hugely popular in India in the nineteen-seventies for its sharp and often acidic reporting style, this is what the said God said: (September 1976):

First of all, you must grasp the complete oneness of the three incarnations of contemporary times with those of the past like Rama and Krishna. This is a difficult task. When people cannot understand the present, how can they comprehend the past? Every incarnation is full and complete in relation to the time, environment and the task. There is no distinction between the various appearances of God as Rama, Krishna or Sai.

Rama came to feed the roots of truth and righteousness, Krishna followed to foster the plant of peace and love. Now these sacred principles are in danger of wholesale destruction by reason of human weakness under the onslaught of evil forces. They are overcoming the good, the spiritual and the divine in man. That is why the present Avathar has come invested with the totality of cosmic power to save dharma (righteousness) from anti-dharma”.

Q (RKK) : “By the present Avathar, you mean Sai Baba? “

Baba: “Yes”

If you think that was enough to reassure you, please stand by. There is more to come in order to elaborate that point. In answer to the next question, the said Bhagwan also said:

Previous Avathars like Rama and Krishna had to destroy a few individuals who could be identified as enemies of the godly way of life and thus restore the dharmic path. Today, however, wickedness has tainted so many that humanity itself stands under the threat of destruction. Therefore, in My present Avathar, I have come armed with the fullness of the power of formless God to correct mankind, raise human consciousness and put people back on the right path of truth, righteousness, peace and love to divinity”.

So there. If you worship Rama and Krishna (not to forget the murderous Brahmin, the Dwarf, the Man-lion, Pig, Turtle and the Fish), they had come for limited purposes. This God, Bhagwan Sathya Sai Baba,  had taken human form with full power to correct mankind (including George Bush, Tony Blair, Ku Klux Klan,  ISIS, Al Qaeda, , Saudi head-choppers, Boko-Haram marriage brokers, LET, Haqqani Network,  Harkat-ul-Mujahideen, Hizbul Mujahideen, Babbar Khalsa, SIMI, Vishwa Hindu Parishad, Bhujrang Bal, Suicide bombers, the whole lot of them), to raise human consciousness (and away from the forty virgins waiting for the suicide bombers) and to put people on the right path of truth, righteousness and peace et al.

Mission accomplished nearly a decade ahead of the promised schedule, this final human incarnation of a formless God took leave of this world three years ago.

Total world peace prevails. Thank God.

 Epilogue :

If you wish to know more about this God and his peaceful ways, I invite you to the following site with a lot many links that you could spend a day with in total devotion: .

For further clarifications on this and all other divine persons, please also read :


Having read the draft, a friend asked me: “Why are you flogging a dead horse?”

I said : “This Horse lives in the minds of many devotees, including my wife.”


October 29, 2014

One morning in early August, 2003 I stood outside the gate of a popular British-run school in Dhaka, Bangladesh. A Board on the gate warned that it was a Christian school, and that admission was not available to locals.  Because it was a missionary school, I was later told, the government prevented the school from admitting local Muslim boys.

The principal I met was a suave, bright young Englishman, who was pleased with the child’s  replies and claims that he could play cricket, swim and skate-board. The school encouraged sports, said the principal. After contemplating my name and the child’s for a couple of seconds, he warned me that the school stressed on Christian values. I said, quite sincerely, that we respected all values.

For several months, we were pleased with the  child’s progress, his diction, his interest in homework and in cricket.

Then one day he came home with a project to complete. He had to choose an animal of his liking, paste a picture of it on his worksheet, and write ten sentences on the creature of his choice. He asked me to get him a picture of dinosaur to paste. I downloaded a terrible-looking carnivore, and printed it on my inkjet. He laboriously read a Wikipedia article on the dinosaur, and wrote a few lines in his childish hand. When done and the colorful picture was put in place, he felt  sure that his would be the best project in the class, and that he would get a star for it.

In the afternoon, he came home in tears. He tore up the paper that contained the dinosaur’s picture and description while I watched him in amazement.

“The teacher said” he heaved through tears, “the teacher said that dinosaur is not a creation of God. It’s a lie because it is not mentioned in the Bible”.

“Grandpa, you cheated me. Dinosaur is a lie,”. To a six year-old, the teacher knows everything.

Fortunately, it was the end of the term for him in that class, and I persuaded his mother to transfer him to any other school. I checked with the American School if they taught Genesis to young minds. The Principal, also suave and bright, said smilingly : “No, we teach regular subjects.”

Fortunately, eleven years on, he has forgotten his lessons in Genesis.

I will not repeat the sad story of Galileo; it has been beaten flat with repetition through centuries. In early nineteen eighties, however, Pope Paul II met Stephen Hawking and a few scientists of his ilk and suggested : Up to Big Bang is fine, but do not go into the origin of it because that belongs to the realm of God.

The scientists probably felt pleased that even the Papacy was evolving. The Pope was obviously implying that the Big Bang Theory could be right.

They had another think coming. Pope Benedict XVI, who preceded the current Pope, trust me, set the Vatican clock right back to early seventeenth century. A couple of years before his ascendancy, he declared that it was right for the Church to deny Galileo Galilee; if later the church opted to be silent on the modern theory of a stationary sun and revolving earth, that was merely for political convenience!

The Council of Cardinals still elected him. Palace gossips, trial of a whistle-blower, trials and denials followed, and the old Nazi guard resigned mercifully.

His successor has come out with a big bang bursting the first chapter of the Holy Bible.  From the pulpit (or wherever a Pope is supposed to stand), he declared : Evolution and Big Bang theory are real.  God isn’t ‘a magician with a magic wand.

Don’t rejoice in this evolution. May be it’s short-lived. The Cardinals who elected Benedict are watching.

Many years ago a priest like this (people called him Rabbi) was nailed  on to a wooden beam for views that differed from the textbook..

The evolved Christian


October 28, 2014

I have a social-network friend, whom I shall call Irene since I did not ask her permission to use her real name. She is a dedicated  and proud nurse serving abroad. She tries to help her compatriots find jobs in the country of her employment by reproducing nursing job advertisements on Facebook pages. Quite rightly, she believes nursing is the best job in the world.

And she loves Jesus, and believes Jesus loves her. I am sure that her love for her God keeps her cope with the vicissitudes of life, agony of her patients and the poignant  memory of her husband who died a few  years ago. She quotes often from the Bible, the good and kind words of God.  Tactlessly I once commented on one of her quotes by reproducing the cruel and merciless threats of God from the same book. Irene admitted she was hurt, and I discontinued my unsolicited comments on her page.

When our mutual friend Llewelyn fell sick on his last birthday, and there was no news of him for a few days, I checked with Irene if she had any news. She said  she had none, and  was praying for him. She suggested I pray for him too. Irene is Protestant, Llewelyn Catholic, but the denominations had not come in the way of their friendship, nor between them and me, though I have no claim to any religion or religious denomination.

To me, Llewelyn is a close friend from our younger days, over half a century ago. There was nothing I wanted to hear in those anxious days but that he was well. I said to Irene : I seldom pray, I believe God knows his job well, he would do what he thinks is the best , and does not go by recommendations.”

“I see,” answered Irene and tried to  discontinue the chat.  She sounded  shocked that I did not believe in making a plea to God and to  bring Him around to saving our dear friend.

Sensing the dismay and shock in Irene’s voice, I assured her: By Pascal’s wager, I will pray for LLew.

.Hopefully, Irene did not know what Pascal’s wager was.

That night, I actually prayed to a God whose name I did not know, that the jolly good friend of mine, nearly  a year younger than myself, be restored to good health once again. Also that I hear from him soon.

Blaise Pascal, who proposed the wager that bears his name,  was a great scientist, mathematician, inventor and Christian theologian. His wager is this:: If there is God, and if he hears your prayers, it’s good for you, your prayers will be answered. If there is no God, yet  if you believe there is One, and you pray to Him, no loss anyhow.

Pascal, being a Christian theologian, set one condition to laying this wager : the God you pray to has to be Christian God, Not Muslim God, nor a pagan god.

Most  people – Christian, Muslim or Hindu – might not  have heard of Pascal’s wager, only of his mechanical calculators and hydraulic theories while at school or college.  Yet we lay that wager often when we say this:

“ I do not know much about God. All I believe is that there is a great power over us.”

Ask any celebrity about God, I wager that that is what he or she would say. Partly because it is a good way to lay a wager on  the Great Power. Also because naming a particular God or god might offend fans from other religions..

A week later Llewelyn  returned  to the social network, fully recovered, regretting his absence and once again ready to entertain all those hundreds who knew him and admired  his jovial way of listing out soundly  philosophical thoughts and delightful pun with sexual entendres in crisp, short lines.

That was  exactly year ago, give or take two days. Llewelyn is  going strong, full of wit and great thoughts, his health good enough  for another couple of decades.

I don’t remember wagering on God since then.


October 27, 2014

When Uma Bharti’s Ganga cleaning programme comes into being will they fish him out?

Kashikananda Giri

Mr. Kashikananda Giri, 90, who died in a regular hospital, not Mr. Ramdev’s divine  Patanjali Chikitsalaya, has been interred in River Ganges. Once again all the dead babas, Anandas, Giris, Maharajs and Swamies can be put into the holy river. Dead old grandfathers (please, not this one) can soon follow, just as many smaller gods are following Shivsena’s Ganpati into lakes and rivers. Mother Ganga can once again become the longest floating graveyard of the world. Guinness, are you listening?

Many years ago I used to drive my family to Haridwar for bathing in the cool Ganges waters there – they for salvation, I for the sheer joy of walking on the sand-and-gravel river bed while fighting the current that would be trying to sweep me away.

Never again. What if I step on the rotten remains of a sacred Baba?


October 24, 2014

suggested name : OBOLA, GOD ALMIGHTY

(With apologies to victims of cruel religious bigotry and political connivance)

Script Abstract

Americans are a worried lot. Aerial bombing hasn’t stopped the holy warriors of Islamic State.  Obama, John Kerry and John Brennan  meet secretly in the oval office with occasional interruptions from the First Lady. They (Americans) are now preparing for a contingency when Islamic State Militants inject Ebola into suicide volunteers (mostly British and American white teens) and fly them to US airports.

Snowden, who spies on the meeting,  publishes the gist of the secret meeting. If that brilliant  idea of spreading a new biological weapon had not occurred to the militants yet, now it has. 

ABU Omar al-Shishani  at the Syrian border is enthused. He says the idea has come from God Almighty.  A dozen  suicide volunteers are  infected in and smuggled out from West Africa  (best place to smuggle in and smuggle out) and injected with Ebola virus serum. A couple of Mullahs are selected  to  train them in the holy art of suicide war, to indoctrinate them how God loves and rewards such holy warriors. They are also trained with sample  questions God the Great would ask, how to answer them. In reward, God Almighty would reward them with beds with rivers flowing below, piles of dates and pomegranate by their side, and minimum forty eternal virgins and a few doe-eyed youth for their personal pleasure.

Mullahs gets Ebola from suicide volunteers trained and equipped  in West Africa, and in turn meet other Mullahs. Which leads to Ebola among Mullahs, Maulvis and the faithful. Fever, diarrhea.

Suicide volunteers with Ebolas fly to Kennedy airport. Three of them are oozing in their pants by the time they land and are quarrantined.

Others spread out. Quite a few Ebola cases in Manhattan. Panic. Times first page screams revenge out of helplessness. A few Americans some black, some white, most of them kaffir unbelievers, die. The suicide volunteers die with great satisfaction and reach heaven and are led directly to God for the rewards.

Since vifruses do not recognize divinity, nor care for virgins and doe-eyed boys, God the Great catches Ebola.

Animated  Scene of flood, chaos,  scenes of  great buildings collapsing, and piles of dates and pomegrades floating, , river that runs below rising above, eternal virgins  and doe-eyed youth crying for help and drowning.

Great Diarrhea, No God.  World peace.

Rolling credits.


Set : Oval Office.

Camera pans a robust  mahogany door, crest-fallen star-spangled banners on either side.  Golden motif of an angry eagle at the top of the door.

On the door hangs a hand-written  sign, which says :


In the background, Rap music that sounds like cannon shots – (For increased ticket sales in India, you can have Eminem sing one of his songs that start as a whisper and end up splitting ears. ).

Action. Camera 2

The door opens ever so slowly and silently. The head and shoulders of two men in grey suits, facing  a large  empty  presidential chair comes in view. Pan 180 degrees, past a vacant fire place, three curtained windows behind the President’s desk, another pair of crest-fallen flags behind  the empty chair, four curtained doors  in all directions. Pause suggestively at a row of secret cameras placed behind photographs of two George Bushes. 

Pause and focus suggestively on a pair of Russian-made rough shoes under the curtain of the  left-side door. Both this curtain and the shoes under them are hidden to the visitors and the President who will soon occupy the big chair with three windows behind.

Camera pauses again, facing the two men. One on the left – near-bald and stocky is John Brennan, Director of CIA.   To the right (to Brennan’ss left) is  salt-and-pepper haired John KERRY.  The screen displays their names and jobs by brief captions, retained long enough for American audience  to read and comprehend the English words.

KERRY;         (straining his eyes over his watch): thirty nine seconds  gone and no sign of him. Twenty years ago, he would be bringing us coffee.

BRENNAN:   Cut out the piracy, John. That is Clinton copyright. Say something new.”

KERRY:         All right. How ‘bout  this? Fifteen years ago, before he was senator,  a Ferguson  trooper would have shot him in the streets, no questions asked.

BRENNAN:  Don’t remind me. After that terrible  black guy –what’s his name? –Michael Whatever  was innocently shot by poor Darren Wilson in the street, Ferguson police requested us to make a video of a Black look-alike  looting a store. Since it was for public consumption, they said it had to look real genuine. It took us three days to find a look-alike,  then find a store man willing to shoot in his store, and then, finally – ugh – the shooting. Shooting the video, I mean, not the look-alike. The guy we found was not much of a look-alike, so we had to make the video hazy and show only his back. He was much older than this Michael Whatever, so we got the face made blanked out – not that  the guy was not black enough –  when  he turned around to face  the camera to kick the fake security who pretended to try and stop him. Gosh, I couldn’t sleep that night – no, not because of a bad conscience, but because the video didn’t come out quite right.

KERRY:         But it worked with the public, at least with the white public. That’s what mattered..

In the back ground:


Enters OBAMA.  Wears a light-colored suit worn without tie, beneath  a sheepish smile.

 Brennan  and  Kerry hesitantly stand up’

OBAMA : Good morning, John. Good Morning, other John. I am sorry. You know, Michelle wants her coffee and toast in bed at 8.30 sharp. This morning, after getting the fussy kids to go brush their teeth, I was so occupied with the thought of this top secret meeting, that the toast got burnt just a little. That got her goat, you know, she gets her goat every morning since she was elected the First Lady. Then there was the usual – you know, man and wife thing.

KERRY:         Good morning, Mr. President.  I hope you kissed and made up.

OBAMA:         I  kissed. She had no make-up.

BRENNAN:   Good morning, Mr. President.

OBAMA :        Tell me what’s good this morning. (wipes a stain of coffee from the lapel of his jacket with the back of his hand). Something from the friendly surveillance system that that Sonofa… my good friend George got installed.

BRENNAN:   We got a clear video of Merkel  and Sauer  in what might be called mild lip lock. Audio wasn’t clear, but we suspect  that Markel  was suggesting a  holiday trip of some sort, and Sauer  appeared delighted..

OBAMA :          Who is this Sauer? A third angle in an affair ? Hey, this is breaking news!  Where was  her husband Merkel??

BRENNAN: : Sorry, sir. Joachim Sauer is her husband. Ulrich Merkel was her unlucky first, who is now probably eating his heart out since  she became the chancellor. (tries to laugh at his own joke, but gives up).

OBAMA  (grandly, though somewhat disappointed):       Cut the gossip. What good gossip  has your friendly surveillance system  ever brought us any way?  That Sonofa.. my good friend George started it for God knows what purpose, and I keep getting  the rap from that Merkel woman though I never even tried to squeeze her shoulders.  That Aussie what’s-his-name Abbot kept lecturing  me about it,  I couldn’t half make out what he was saying. Something about not snooping on friends, I guess. I said, yeah, yeah, it’s bad to snoop, but George only intended to snoop on the Gillard woman. That pleased him. He asked me if we found something. I said -yeah, I said I would ask George and let him know. (Pretends to thumbs a file in front of him). Let’s be serious. Tell me what’s happening in  Iraq and Syria – what’s left of those countries that the Sonofa …my good friend George has left for me.

KERRY:         We are bombing the hell out of those Islamic State guys in both places, and they are advancing steadily.

OBAMA (turning to Brennan):        You tell me. This guy  packs tons of gifts and dollar bills for kings and presidents and chiefs  and flies around in his special plane all over the  world, and brings only the worst news. Even Michelle and the kids don’t use my Air Force One so much. We are bombing from the latest planes in the world, and they are advancing ! Bah, some news!

BRENNAN:   Not Kerry’s fault. We bomb them so that they would retreat.  A couple of them die along with the usual collateral damage of a few hundred men women and children, but the rest of them advance to the next town. They take it that we’re clearing the place for them. A mole told us that their leader – Abu something, was hiding in a hospital. We bombed the hospital to kingdom come. The patients, nurses, doctors, kids, women – all – Kaput. The Abu sonofabitch  wasn’t there, we got only a couple of his co…. you know, suckers..

OBAMA :        Boo-hoo. We borrowed a trillion more dollars from China and printed another trillion-and-a-half  to put those new-fangled machines in the air , not to burn hospitals, but  to bomb them bastards to the middle ages.

KERRY:        That’s the problem, Mr. President. Those Islamic State guys are already in the middle ages, and want to  suicide-bomb  us all back to there. That’s what the war is all about.

OBAMA:         For god sake let’s have some good news. I hope Putin finds himself in deep soup after all those sanctions we put on him.

Brenna :         That’s even worse. He’s celebrating it with the Chinese.  China is printing more Rinmbing whatever to replace dollars to  trade with Russia, then with India, Malaysia, Indonesia, Srilanka.  If, all those Asian yellows and brownies do not want our dollars to trade, what use our printing them? That’s what Warren Buffet meant when he said our economy is gonna sink.

OBAMA:         No racism, please. You are mouthing  Republican nonsense . Warren is out to make the economy dip when I am in the White House.  We can continue to borrow and  then print money to pay interest – at least till my term expires. Anyway, for what Hillary has been saying lately, she needs to do some sweating when she is in this chair. Tell me something juicy that our friendly surveillance system caught from Moscow. Tell me that Putin is bending.

BRENNAN (turning paler than his usual pink): I am ashamed to tell you this, Mr. President. Putin is bending, but only literally. He zeroed in on our camera.

OBAMA :        And removed it? What kind of intelligence setup have you if you can’t even hide a damn spy camera?

BRENNAN:   No, he didn’t find it, it’s well hidden,  only got a fix on it.  The camera is still in place.  Every time he walks into his office, he closes the door, faces away from the direction of the camera, bends forward, bares his bottom towards the camera – our camera – and shouts: potzelui!

OBAMA:         What the hell does that mean?

BRENNAN:   My office researched. We found that it means something like  KISS MY….in Russian

OBAMA:         These Russians are vulgar, they must be included in the Axis of Evil coined by  that Sonofa..

BRENNAN:   Your good friend George.

OBAMA:         Yes. But you got cameras in their Military Headquarters in Moscow, officers’ clubs, men’s messes, newspaper offices, public libraries, that’s what the Son…my good friend George’s secret briefing led me to believe..

BRENNAN:   Mr. President, I was going to tell you that. Every one of the cameras has been spotted. It’s become a military ritual in Russia that before each meal  officers and men, peasants and laborers parade in front of our cameras with bared bottoms and shout potzelui!

OBAMA sits with his hands on his head,  sighing loudly..

OBAMA (after a pause, but not looking up ):       Think of it, If Putin tells Kim-Jong- Un, he would spot the cameras and we would have to kiss those yellow bottoms as well!

A woman’s call from behind the scene : “Barak, are you coming or not? I want you to serve my breakfast. Gah-tit? !”

OBAMA (Absent-mindedly):  Gah-tit, darling, gah-tit. (To Kerry)  What else is on the agenda for this meeting?

KERRY :        Ebola

OBAMA:         (Shaken) Who is she? Don’t mention any such female names around the White House. You know Michelle.

BRENNAN:   Mr. President, our intelligence research has found that  Ebola  is a terrible disease, a deadly scourge, now killing millions in West Africa.

KERRY (guffaws) : That’s some research. Not millions, but thousands so far but could turn out to be millions. It’s all over CNN. Sir, we fear that Ebola will be the next WMD that those back-to-middle-ages army, ISIS might use against the United States. That would be worse than nine-eleven, and we would have no defense against it.

OBAMA :        What do you mean no defense? We have the greatest air power in the world, enough nukes to destroy the Solar System, and our army is willing to teach anybody else to fight on the ground ever since body bags arrived because of that Sonofa..I mean my good friend George started a stupid personal war with Saddam.

KERRY.         Mr. President, picture this. They get a few indoctrinated suicide idiots to volunteer for Ebola injection. Then they travel to New York, Washington, Chicago, ‘Frisco. Ebola spreads like wild fire. Do I have to complete the picture for you?

OBAMA:         Don’t say  that. That Indian guy who gave me the monkey god had warned me that we should never expect or say anything ominous, think positive, is what he said, while standing on his head.  We can’t all stand on our heads, but we can think positive, can’t we? That said, I hope that Bobby Jindal, the only Indian I dislike,  stands on his head and breaks his neck. I say, a simple solution to this Ebola problem is:  Don’t allow anyone, particularly colored Muslims -African or Arab , even if there are people named Hussein among them, into the United States. Period.

BRENNAN:   My intelligence research shows that there are plenty of white suicide idiots, with Christian passports and Muslim second, third and fourth names,  volunteering  for ISIS. Promise of forty virgins per head has induced many young Americans and Britons to want to go to heaven ASAP. They’ve been brainwashed that there are no virgins in America and Europe.

KERRY:         This time your intelligence hits it on the head on two counts. The guy who shows off his beheading skills on the television is a white Briton.

OBAMA :        Those Britons are mad. They still consult Tony Blair about what to do in Iraq. Next they will telephone the Sonofa… my good friend George for checking with him,

BRENNAN:   That’s right. Britons are stupid, otherwise why did they bring tea to Boston? We only drink coffee.

BRENNAN:   That white head-chopping Briton is not as mad as some of our white Americans who walk into crèches and nurseries and shoot little children. Even without the promise of forty virgins per head.

OBAMA :        I know, I know. Next you’re gonna talk about police officers who shoot unarmed blacks.

BRENNAN:   (Indignantly) No, I wasn’t going to say that . We have a video that shows that Michael Brown was not innocent. He had looted a store for a couple of cigars, which was why he was shot in the street, unarmed, hands up and crouching as if he was a traffic offender..Served him right, if you ask me.

(KERRY chuckles suggestively until the audience understand why he chuckles. In the background, a black-and white clip of John Brennen directing the video shoot.).

Just as  the B&W clip of a scene fades, enters Michelle sans makeup, her jaws firmly in place, hair in curls, hands on hip.

MICHELLE :  I am a lawyer. Mr. Brennen, Let’s say Michael Brown stole two cigars. Tell me, which state in the United States awards capital punishment for stealing cigars? That too without trial?

All three male heads – bald, gray and close-cropped – bow down in shame.

MICHELLE:     Mr. John Brennan, I am asking you.

BRENNAN (without looking up) :     I understand that there is some such law among the IPD troopers in Ferguson. To prove the point, they have shot one more gentleman under the same law.

MICHELLE : A black gentleman, of course.

KERRY (also without looking up): I heard they’re planning to give some sort of an award to Darren Wilson for bravery. For courageously getting two unarmed blacks in two weeks in the face of stiff opposition, is what the citation would say.

MICHELLE (stamps a foot in disgust):  And why not four more blacks in the White House?

OBAMA:         Please, darling, no ominous talk. Think positive, is what the Indian advised me while standing on his head. Those Indians, you know, are wise. Spellalthon, Mathematics..Brain Outsourcing and all that.. Also Never forget that all four presidents who were shot in the White House were white.

MICHELLE:   Shut up Barak, if you don’t end this stupid secret meeting on black shooting as if it were duck shooting  this minute and serve me and the kids our  breakfast before they leave for school,  I’m gonna divorce you. That’s a promise!

MICHELLE marches out angrily. All heads are raised.

OBAMA (hands on the table, straight-faced, trying hard to turn pale with embarrassment):     You know these women. They never keep that promise. Gentlemen, under the circumstances, I have urgent work, but  this top secret meeting is not concluded. We will reconvene after I send  kids to school and Michelle out for shopping.

OBAMA exits.

From behind  the screen :


Sound of a woman and two teenagers chuckling in background. Clanging of plates and cutlery..

Brennan and Kerry nod to each other, smile and walk out.

Camera pans the  curtain with Russian shoes underneath.  A lean young man in rough Russian shoes carrying an ancient  dictaphone emerges. Caption at the bottom of the screen reads: ‘


A security guard in uniform emerges from the other secret door.

Guard  (stretching his hand, speaking in hoarse whisper)            Man, let me see ya out through the secret-most door.

Snowden hands him a large bundle of dollar bills,. which the guard  accepts gratefully, but then pauses and frowns.

Guard (staring at the photo on the bills):       Who  be the president, partner?

Snowden :       This is the only dollar bill that will pay your bills a couple of years from now. Keep it safe.

Guard :       Yea, ,  surtenly. No hurry to spend all these dead presidents too soon. Guess will keep them when ma girlie goes to collige. Look like the photo  be Benjamin Franklin after a haircut.  This Benjamin eyes are a bit small, but that ain’t nothin’, Guess that’d be OK. for my girlie’s collige when the time comes. Thanks a million, man, Eddy boy , though I didn’t do this for money, but ’cause you worked around hea before and you been allays kind. Guess ya got many friends here.

(He points to  Snowden the secret door).     

Take care, buddy, don’t  let ya boots make no sound.

Snowden nods and moves gingerly.

Screen fades while in the background Eminem raps something that sounds like a fiercer and louder version of “Cleaning out my Closet”.


August 16, 2014


The life story of Palam Kalyanasundaram is an incredible saga. Not to worry; it’s the credible-sounding ones from VIPs and celebrities  that turn out to be lies.

Kalyanasundaram started paying the school fees of a few children from his village, not for charity he says – but because he needed company for the ten-kilometre walk to school and back. Then the habit stuck. When he got the job of a librarian, he put away his salary for giving to the poor. I suppose he was not all that well to do, one report says that on returement he served at tables in a restaurant to make own ends meet.

His job won him many accolades. He was adjudged the best librarian in India (one recognition from the Government of India); United Nations named him One of the Most Outstanding People of the 20th century. An American organization awarded him money amounting to RS. 30  crores, which he promptly donated to charity.Whether he qualifies to the title of The Man of the Millennium as awarded by Rotary Club of India I cannot say, but his Lifetime Achievement Award sits well on him. 

I guess that Kalyanasundaram’s extraordinary magnanimity must have been known to the Government  – Central as well as Tamil Nadu – for at least 45 years. His fame reached the shores of North America, but apparently not Rashtrapati Bhavan nor the South Block. The poor guy cannot and has no time for lobbying in Parliament canteen and probably no inclination to touch Amma’s feet. I suppose The Best Librarian Award is considered good enough by those in authority.

Perhaps not carrying a burden of Padma-Something or Bharat Something award actually goes to the honour of Librarian Kalyanasundaram. Why bracket him with film actors who simply mouth other people’s scripts, iip-sync songs in mismatched voices  and let some poor guys do their dangerous stunts? Why, indeed, with politicians whose foul deeds are whispered in the corridors of North and South Blocks and cricketers who hold nearly as many records for ducks as for centuries?


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