From political science to scientific polity!

Politics is holy for it is the profession relating to governing with a conscience that requires purity of purpose like no other. Hailed as a science, a study of the government of states and other political units, politics suffers from the same question which science is oft confronted with – How does one use politics for the constructive development of society. And like how science in its many diabolic forms genuinely defeats the very purpose it is so revered for, politics in its very many avatars is doing the same thing, but at a far perilous, grassroots level, shaking the very foundations on which tenets of humanity were carefully constructed.

But what distinguishes politics from science is who bloods it. Degenerative science, be it toxic weapons or nuclear waste, no, lets not debate the efficacy of MY examples of baneful science, is the brainchild of a few people perched atop the throne of a kingdom in which the lay man educated or otherwise is but a mute spectator. The kingdom of complex scientific math entwined with vested entrepreneurial (read government where necessary) interests produces a knot which the man on the street has no clue about till the day it raises its ugly self and trammels him to submission and devastation BUT…

Politics is a totally different ball game. Forget not, merely a game where a ball made of imaginary promises and surreal ideas, a round convoluted obloquy, thrown amidst us, the people of the land, who enlightened or not, gleefully play with it knowing for most parts what it would beget but discounting all its consequences to bring about our own fall. Unlike science where the common man can accuse his pseudo chaperons, the scientists and the governments for all the vices he is made to wear, he cannot do so in politics for the thorns twinging him come from the very tree the seeds of which he sowed, the roots of which he nurtured, the fruits of which he always knew he would never taste but gave into fostering a fiend in all his consciousness or should I say callousness…

The world’s largest democracy is today, but a mockery of the very basis it derived its pride from, the power of its people. We, the nation, must proactively push for the progress of this country through thorough deliberations about the political future of India and treat with utmost respect, our power to mandate our representatives. Let’s not be part of a wretched history which will have only one entity to blame for India’s peril, the apathy of the Indian public towards scientific polity…

Vote with a purpose!

Cleanliness is next to Scariness

I have my own (erm, rented) place now, but, for the most part of my life, I have lived at home with family. Back home, I have a little room to myself, actually a cantina of sorts, for I have always been dazed by how it houses all the mélange and sundry within its confines; books, clothes, sport gear, shoes, cards, posters, trophies, gadgets et all and still manages to pleasantly hide the ruckus it actually is.

In my mind I have always liked to imagine that I was an orderly person living in a clean dwelling, an illusion which was often thwarted by the reality of my room which ended up looking, from time to time, like a recently bombarded 2nd world war bunker or that dilapidated 14th century fort. The first signs of welter were often swept under the mental carpet with nonchalance until I was repeatedly confronted by the sorry state of my room, after which I usually embarked on a hopeless task of GI-ing my abode, hopeless, because I knew it was so Herculean, I would never be able to pull it off.

The endeavor almost always commenced on a Friday evening that I wasn’t partying with the agglomeration of almost everything that I thought was out of place (or needed to be cast away) on my bed! The scene usually resembled a busy street dug up by the municipal authorities to lay a cable or refurbish a pipeline with the traffic going nuts. By the time I could figure out everything that needed rearrangement, it would already be bed-time, oops, I meant couch-time! Yes, this was usually the beginning of my 2 day camp in the drawing room, the couch doubling up as a bed in the night (afternoon and erm, morning too, sometimes)

Saturday and Sunday were spent discarding a ton of items, but the mess on my bed was so Brobdingnagian that my cerebral process mapping ‘where to accommodate what’ would always come a cropper. Come Sunday evening and the first harmonics of maternal maunder resonated in the house and manic Monday was ushered with mommie dear going berserk over my bedroom bedlam. I'd gulp the ignominy as I quickly showered, stuffed my breakfast and dashed off to work promising my mom that mission impossible will be accomplished by evening! I secretly knew that mommie did a great Tom Cruise and thanks to her my room unfailingly had a semblance of a livable quarter by evening with most items tucked away in areas I didn’t know existed or stacked away in a manner pleasing to the eye, until, well, the welter started all over again a few weeks thereafter!!

It is this fear that stems from the thorough knowledge of how otiose I can be with restoring a ruffled-up room that ensures that I keep my place in perfect shape all the time, so much so that most pals who visit me find it hard to believe that they are in a bachelor pad. Now you know!

Dicartomy

“The era of sedans is over”, screams Mahindra’s new ad even as a huge container from outer space mercilessly mashes an innocent white sedan meekly parked by the road-side much to the horror of the sapiens on the sidewalk. The Xylo is coming soon to obliterate all sedans or at least that is what it purports to do. But didn’t M&M just hail the arrival of their much hyped wide-bodied Renault-blooded sedan, Logan, a few winters ago?! Agreed Logan was still-born, but still, the last rites need not be so caddish. Do you perhaps reckon that the advertisement would have been craftier if Logans were actually scorching Indian asphalt? I feel bad for Renault, not because it launched an absolute dud of an oil burner housed in an even more uninspiring monocoque, much like the person who endorses the vehicle, lots of oomph but little substance (ok wimmin, don’t frown at moi) but for having partnered with the likes of M&M which seems to be cold-shouldering its now already attenuating French partner!

With a front grill that looks like an accessory rejected from a badly designed chariot made for Ben-Hur, I can’t seem to understand just what the honchos at M&M were up to when they saw how their supposedly Innova-beating baby (could actually happen you see, Indians have taken to the WagonR for gods-sake) looked head-on! We are on territory where “Pathetic” is synonymous with “Praiseworthy” as far as looks go (apologies, Xylo lovers) but the automobile itself seems to be endowed with intelligent interiors, good build quality and a nice engine, all of which are offered at an honest price. Can’t think of a better word than utilitarian notwithstanding the multi-functional display being touted as a fuel-conserving widget, hardy har har!

Xylo, my dear friends, is an MPV squarely built for Parveen Dabbas, not Aamir Khan.

And for Renault, let’s hope that Bajaj snubs you much more subtly and not with a campaign like "The era of small cars is over! Coming soon, Bajaj Tuk-Tuk"

Mind Matters

Caveat: Reader discretion advised.

He who jerks off each night thinking about knocking a nipper is no paedophile, she chomps on her breadsticks assuming they were the fingers of her best friend at school, she is no cannibal, he who plots the most torturous death of his colleague at work is not homicidal, she derives immense pleasure from the sad plight of her distraught pal but is no sadist for these people feed their dark phantasies in a world inaccessible to anyone, their minds.

The mind is a complex place, a stronghold of myriad feelings most never experienced, thoughts untaught, ideas idle, wonted whims, fantasies unfulfilled, ignis fatui incarcerated and in the midst of all this buzz is a small fraction that we actually translate into actions, the things that we say, do, proclaim, share and own responsibility for.

This post is about the major part of the matters of the mind locked in the vacuum of the self. At this mental level, I think there are no good or bad people, no right or wrong, no gentlemen and rustics, no perverts and purists for what’s inside of you is something no can figure out to be able to make a judgment about you. It is a level playing field where every individual is an equal and this fact though troublesome to many, is beautiful to me.

Our actions define us, not our thoughts. The mind is like the wild wind, the roaring river, the ceaseless cosmos it is meant to be unrestricted and unfettered, it is meant to be the harbinger of germination, the source of life and creativity, elite and eclectic, shoddy and shameful, the mind must do what it was meant to do, generate all the permutations and combinations possible and then you decide what you want to do with them by choosing the best ones to act upon, like how we select the best roses from the orchid to present to our beloved or pick the freshest fruits to take home sifting through the basket loads. I believe that a great person is not someone who has learnt to mould his mind but is someone who has an ascendance over his actions. It is not about destroying the dangerous mob - it is about choosing to shoot below the knees to disperse it, it is not about annihilating your adversary - it is about acknowledging his dominance while vowing vehemently to best him, it is not about lusting over your daughter’s classmate – it is about a life that you could positively influence being a responsible adult, it is not about the slum that you can build a castle on – it is about the countless souls you can help sustain on a piece of lifeless earth……

May be that’s why, even the great mahatma decided to adapt the adage, “See no evil, Hear no evil, Say no evil”, without adding “Think no evil”, for as long as you don’t intend to actuate it, the resident evil is actually harmless.