I have never voted in my life. I lost 10 years of that power. I WILL vote, I WILL find out about the right candidates and vote for them. THAT will be my contribution. Yours?
Goodmorning Readers and Fellow Citizens,
How did you sleep last night? Nice dreams, sweet thoughts, good sex? And where were your children? Do they sleep with you or do they have a nice little room for themselves?
For, while you were sleeping a 2 and a half-year-old was raped and her throat was slit. It was a very neat slitting, should be, a 2 and a half-year old child’s skin is very soft. She died. But before she died, can you IMAGINE how much she would have CRIED when she was raped? Have you ever pulled a child’s ears, they cry a lot. And here, the child was ENTERED into. How much it would have hurt her? But of course, sorry, so you HAVE a 3-year-old son and you are the big-time editor of some big-time newspaper. It cannot happen to YOUR son, na? Are you so sure? Do you trust your child’s school bus driver? Or the nurse in the swanky toilet of the swanky air-conditioned school your baby goes to…? Are you SURE that the ayah is NOT feeling up your child INSIDE that Rs 6 lakh per annum school? And the Ministry of Mayhem will NOT do anything.
Somewhere else, a man first strangled his two daughters, they were 12 and 16 I think. So he put his fingers around their necks and squeezed and squeezed till their eyes rolled in their sockets. The mother watched helplessly. She was helpless much before. NO, he was not raping his daughters, he was ensuring no one else did once he was gone. This father LOVED his daughters; but he knew that if he left them behind, they would be raped and perhaps sold to some brothel. So, once he killed his daughters…. He killed his wife. Then, he hung himself. Because since fathers are supposed to look after a family and he could not, how could he leave them for the hyenas? THINK… What was going on his mind as he spent all that time killing the Family he had created? But then, the Powers that be ensured that it was IMPOSSIBLE for him to provide his family with a simple meal. And you know what was said? The Ministry of Mayhem said that it was His mistake and the mistake of all those like him – poor farmers who give you and me the cereal we eat in our houses and the posh bloody restaurants – that he could not look after his family. The Ministry of Mayhem will NOT do anything.
Also, while you ordered your bottles of Evian, the Delhi Development Authority, the Indian Railways and the Ministry of Mayhem in Delhi are all set to RAPE the Yamuna. By the way for those who did NOT know, the Yamuna is the DIRTIEST river in the WORLD. And you and I are drinking that water. Swimming in that water. Once that Commonwealth Games Village is up and running and it forever FINISHES the little water we have in Delhi, you will STILL have water to drink and to shower and to have bubble baths and swim? NO. No matter how many restaurants you own, you WILL suffer. The water source is the same.
And ah, the Indian Railways is going to spend Rs 125 CRORES on sound-proofing the area. WHY cannot that money be used in launching new trains? Or even improving the horrible seats in existing trains? NO, no, the Indian Railways is concerned about the 5,000 athletes who might be DISTURBED by the noise. DUDE, WHAT ABOUT THE GENERATOR NOISE AROUND MALLS THAT RESIDENTS SUFFER EVERYDAY? You, dear Ministry of Mayhem, are FOOLING us, taking OUR money, making an IDIOT out us. Rs 125 crore for TEMPORARY sound proofing. You mean we HAVE that kind of money and are NOT using it? And using it for 5000 athletes?! Delhi has 2000 times MORE people than that who will NOT get water. ALREADY in Vasant Kunj, Katwaria Sarai, Chittaranjan Park there is water shortage. And those are just three areas I have mentioned.
AND THEY WILL NOT STOP AT DELHI. They will encroach on your farm house. They will encroach on schools. They will encroach on ANYTHING that is not theirs. And if you stand up against them, they will rape your wife, have an encounter and kill you. Simple. FOR HOW LONG? And WHY are you quiet?
So Delhi has this BIG time DJ festival called BAARISH. It means Rain. Ha ha. Really? There will be NO rain once that Games Village comes up. HOW ABOUT FLATTENING THE GARDEN OF FIVE SENSES AND USING THAT LAND FOR THE VILLAGE? Would cost much less and that landscaping can be recreated after the games are over. AND please, there is NO OTHER land around Delhi for that village? ONLY the Yamuna with it's sound proofing?
I am going for a meeting today. WILL get you details, and THEN, you tell me WHY you are silent. Ok? Many of you cry hoarse about NO ONE doing anything… HOW about YOU showing some balls? Shy, are you? So fine, SHOW me spine.
For your 3 year old son. For your wife. For your mother. For YOU. This is NOT talking country, THIS is talking YOUR interest. WATCH THIS SPACE.
And remember, if you vote for an ass, you will GET an ass. Gadhe ko baap banaoge, to gadha hi baap banega. The gadha does NOT become a horse if you give it power. Look at George Bush. Hah. And remember, the East India Company FIRST got the Princes AGAINST their own people and THEN they took the states AWAY from them. WAIT and watch as it happens to You.
THIS IS CITIZEN CRIMSON’S TAKE ON THE GADHAS WE MAKE KING:
My contribution today: I pledge to vote and vote sensibly, in the next general elections. However trivial one out of a BILLION may sound (read tagline above to DRILL this in your head), I realise that MY VOTE COUNTS.
I will carry out my homework by finding out the truth about each candidate and spread the information among my peers. Thus I will make sure that the next government is chosen by majority agreement and NOT by majority indifference.
I completely believe that the quality of leaders reflects the quality of the nation. WHERE are we?
Like we conduct our personal financial planning and tax research – and even ask 16 people, from a fighter pilot to a rickshaw puller about what car to buy – let us start researching into a politicians’ caliber and credentials. The MEDIA can behave like a dependable tax consultant (and if not, you WILL read it here).
Let us make it hard for a politician to fool us. Let us gather information on these guys, from confirmed sources and spread THAT among fellow citizens and finally VOTE when there is an election. Let’s not choose our Government through majority INDIFFERENCE, but through majority agreement.
Those who cannot lead, should NOT be allowed to lead. But that will not happen till you and I VOTE for the people who CAN lead. OR find those people who can lead. Or BECOME the people who can lead. Don’t stay silent, the Ministry of Mayhem does not spare anyone.
Showing posts with label crimson feet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crimson feet. Show all posts
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Monday, September 3, 2007
Lesson 8: Are you easy, or are you good?
Contributed by Citizen Crimson
(From J Bo: Well, for those who read us, hear about us (dheere dheere) and even those who laugh at us… Thanks! Some things work as motivation, others work as irritants and still others simply make us grit our teeth, grin and bear it and some of us… well, we send early morning emails to others. Had emailed the contributors and those helping out, conveying gratitude I really DO feel. You see, people find it far easier to wear their sexuality on their sleeves than they would wearing their patriotism. Or wish for a better life. Or whatever high-faluda funda you want to call it. We see it as Simple Steps To Better Living. And of course if we can rake some dirt on the things and people-things that bother us; we will. Today’s post, is Citizen Crimson’s response to the email I had sent out two days back. He writes...)
There are very few expressions that have as much of a positive, infectious energy as a sincerely written "Thank you note". Do you remember the last one you received? Chances are it was very long ago, and you still have it preserved somewhere. A 'thank you' is an acknowledgement of something that was well intended, a symbol of a smile somewhere, a mark of a world worth living in, if only for that one single moment.
Have you looked into the eyes of a thankful person? They pour out affection, for everything. Would you not feel the world to be a better place, only if you could see it in the eyes of every stranger, that he was thankful for something somewhere?
Why do you think those "thank you" notes after an Oscar/Miss XYZ etc are so long? Not even a single person, who needs to be thanked, should be missed. The feeling of being thankful, I have come to realise, is blissfully fulfilling for everyone.
How often have we been thankful for all that we have? And expressed it too? When was the last time YOU wrote your heartfelt "thank you note"? Why is it rare? Why does it need a reason and occasion?
And why, more often than not, we choose to "blame for what went wrong" rather than 'thank for what went right'? Are we inherently a thankless bunch of souls, who don't give a damn to what's happening right in our lives? Are we always looking for catching collars rather than patting backs? I cringe at the thought, and I want it to be shoved aside as a symptom of a malfunctioning neuron in my brain, that needs repair.
Heres my bit as the Shitizen:
I thank my family, for making me all that I am and for giving me everything that I ever wanted.
I thank my friends, for the learning, unlearning and relearning I have had with them, through them.
I thank the good politicians, for staying good against all odds, as I realise how unbearable the pressures can be.
I thank the honest police officials, for their excruciatingly lonely attempts to make a difference in an idle system.
I thank those media professionals, who genuinely entered the media world to make a difference, and are still not driven by TRP's.
I thank that English teacher, who made me read The Hitchhikers' Guide To The Galaxy, as my first book.
I thank that old man, who was shouting slogans at a traffic signals, urging everyone to follow the traffic rules.
I thank that stranger, who had my laptop returned to my address when I had...(well lets leave it at that :) )
I thank all those individuals, who are trying to make a positive difference to the world around them, in their own small way.
I thank all the good people, simply for being good!
Thank You ALL!
Word of the day (contributed by First Shitizen of India): Desident; the original of the word dissident. Meaning: When other fellow Indians drive with their car noses sticking in your car's behind and sudden braking causes everyone's noses to be in everyone's, er, behinds. Cars I mean. (grin)
PS: And Citizen CRIMSON: TELL that laptop story...sounds like a fun one...now that you did get it back and all. :D Tell, tell! Phir kya hua...?
(From J Bo: Well, for those who read us, hear about us (dheere dheere) and even those who laugh at us… Thanks! Some things work as motivation, others work as irritants and still others simply make us grit our teeth, grin and bear it and some of us… well, we send early morning emails to others. Had emailed the contributors and those helping out, conveying gratitude I really DO feel. You see, people find it far easier to wear their sexuality on their sleeves than they would wearing their patriotism. Or wish for a better life. Or whatever high-faluda funda you want to call it. We see it as Simple Steps To Better Living. And of course if we can rake some dirt on the things and people-things that bother us; we will. Today’s post, is Citizen Crimson’s response to the email I had sent out two days back. He writes...)
There are very few expressions that have as much of a positive, infectious energy as a sincerely written "Thank you note". Do you remember the last one you received? Chances are it was very long ago, and you still have it preserved somewhere. A 'thank you' is an acknowledgement of something that was well intended, a symbol of a smile somewhere, a mark of a world worth living in, if only for that one single moment.
Have you looked into the eyes of a thankful person? They pour out affection, for everything. Would you not feel the world to be a better place, only if you could see it in the eyes of every stranger, that he was thankful for something somewhere?
Why do you think those "thank you" notes after an Oscar/Miss XYZ etc are so long? Not even a single person, who needs to be thanked, should be missed. The feeling of being thankful, I have come to realise, is blissfully fulfilling for everyone.
How often have we been thankful for all that we have? And expressed it too? When was the last time YOU wrote your heartfelt "thank you note"? Why is it rare? Why does it need a reason and occasion?
And why, more often than not, we choose to "blame for what went wrong" rather than 'thank for what went right'? Are we inherently a thankless bunch of souls, who don't give a damn to what's happening right in our lives? Are we always looking for catching collars rather than patting backs? I cringe at the thought, and I want it to be shoved aside as a symptom of a malfunctioning neuron in my brain, that needs repair.
Heres my bit as the Shitizen:
I thank my family, for making me all that I am and for giving me everything that I ever wanted.
I thank my friends, for the learning, unlearning and relearning I have had with them, through them.
I thank the good politicians, for staying good against all odds, as I realise how unbearable the pressures can be.
I thank the honest police officials, for their excruciatingly lonely attempts to make a difference in an idle system.
I thank those media professionals, who genuinely entered the media world to make a difference, and are still not driven by TRP's.
I thank that English teacher, who made me read The Hitchhikers' Guide To The Galaxy, as my first book.
I thank that old man, who was shouting slogans at a traffic signals, urging everyone to follow the traffic rules.
I thank that stranger, who had my laptop returned to my address when I had...(well lets leave it at that :) )
I thank all those individuals, who are trying to make a positive difference to the world around them, in their own small way.
I thank all the good people, simply for being good!
Thank You ALL!
Word of the day (contributed by First Shitizen of India): Desident; the original of the word dissident. Meaning: When other fellow Indians drive with their car noses sticking in your car's behind and sudden braking causes everyone's noses to be in everyone's, er, behinds. Cars I mean. (grin)
PS: And Citizen CRIMSON: TELL that laptop story...sounds like a fun one...now that you did get it back and all. :D Tell, tell! Phir kya hua...?
Monday, August 27, 2007
Lesson 2: The Solo Soldier
It happens only in India
I will not jump any red light today or allow those whose cars I ride in to do it either. That's my contribution today. Yours?
Traffic signals in India are like a microcosm in themselves. Much happens at a traffic signal: It’s a market place for everything from flowers to toys to magazines and incense stick, it’s a place where along with alms, lives, love and hope are found and lost. Some people sleep at traffic lights. Some fall in love – well they did in Kaho Naa Pyar Hai! Many earn their livelihoods on traffic lights; and I mean the beggars and vendors AND the money-extorting traffic cops. And also, traffic signals/lights have stories to tell. Stories that are played out daily, each time the light changes. Here, our first contributor, blogger Crimson Feet shares the story of the Solo Soldier.
The Solo Soldier (renamed from original blog)
The best part about moving from Bombay to Noida has been the drastic changes in my travel routine...
Local train ---> Royal Enfield Thunderbird
1hr 17 min one way ---> 17 min door-to-door
Expensive cab rides ----> Peaceful bike sojourns
Cramped roads with pollution ----> Wide roads with pollution ;)
Saturday night frenzy ---> Weekend travel to Dehradun/Rishikesh/Chandigarh/Lucknow etc
I like to have my Sony thump crooning my favrourite number right into my brain during these peaceful bike rides to and fro bet home and office. A few days ago I saw an old man shouting through a hand-held loudspeaker on a traffic signal on my way back from office.
His shirt read “Follow traffic rules”: Yatayat ke niyamon ka palan karein.
He was old but looked ferociously serious about what he was saying. I could only “see” him till I switched the thump off and tried to “hear” him. Too much noise, I couldn’t pick a word. The seconds remaining on the signal were getting closer to zero, and throttles were being pulled... He looked back, and with a thumping conclusion to his speech, moved aside to let the traffic pass...
Between Noida’s Sector 29 and 58, there are five-six traffic signals, and rule violation is so rampant, that when I decide to stop at a red light; I fear I will cause an accident because EVERY other commuter is jumping the red light and I am the ONLY one standing!
Still, PROUDLY yet, I do STOP when it’s a red light. Of course the worst part is when MY signal is green and I find commuters ready to bang into me irresepctive of their situation in life and on the road!
The old man seemed hesitantly proud of himself too. He looked "ignored" and YET had the conviction to keep doing what HE felt was a good thing to do... May be he had had a tragedy in his family, maybe he was mad. As I crossed him, I wanted to catch his eye and nod approvingly. He never looked At anyone, just stared blankly into nothing; and I felt him to be more alive than most of us commuters...
I think he should know that his effort is NOT going waste.
PS: Crimson Feet, thankyou for this.... Please tell him next time… And if anyone else living in Noida sees this old man, Stop, and thank. And DON’T jump that light.
Those interested in contributing: Please mail links or pieces you have written, or
pictures you have taken to : foxytanya@gmail.com
I will not jump any red light today or allow those whose cars I ride in to do it either. That's my contribution today. Yours?
Traffic signals in India are like a microcosm in themselves. Much happens at a traffic signal: It’s a market place for everything from flowers to toys to magazines and incense stick, it’s a place where along with alms, lives, love and hope are found and lost. Some people sleep at traffic lights. Some fall in love – well they did in Kaho Naa Pyar Hai! Many earn their livelihoods on traffic lights; and I mean the beggars and vendors AND the money-extorting traffic cops. And also, traffic signals/lights have stories to tell. Stories that are played out daily, each time the light changes. Here, our first contributor, blogger Crimson Feet shares the story of the Solo Soldier.
The Solo Soldier (renamed from original blog)
The best part about moving from Bombay to Noida has been the drastic changes in my travel routine...
Local train ---> Royal Enfield Thunderbird
1hr 17 min one way ---> 17 min door-to-door
Expensive cab rides ----> Peaceful bike sojourns
Cramped roads with pollution ----> Wide roads with pollution ;)
Saturday night frenzy ---> Weekend travel to Dehradun/Rishikesh/Chandigarh/Lucknow etc
I like to have my Sony thump crooning my favrourite number right into my brain during these peaceful bike rides to and fro bet home and office. A few days ago I saw an old man shouting through a hand-held loudspeaker on a traffic signal on my way back from office.
His shirt read “Follow traffic rules”: Yatayat ke niyamon ka palan karein.
He was old but looked ferociously serious about what he was saying. I could only “see” him till I switched the thump off and tried to “hear” him. Too much noise, I couldn’t pick a word. The seconds remaining on the signal were getting closer to zero, and throttles were being pulled... He looked back, and with a thumping conclusion to his speech, moved aside to let the traffic pass...
Between Noida’s Sector 29 and 58, there are five-six traffic signals, and rule violation is so rampant, that when I decide to stop at a red light; I fear I will cause an accident because EVERY other commuter is jumping the red light and I am the ONLY one standing!
Still, PROUDLY yet, I do STOP when it’s a red light. Of course the worst part is when MY signal is green and I find commuters ready to bang into me irresepctive of their situation in life and on the road!
The old man seemed hesitantly proud of himself too. He looked "ignored" and YET had the conviction to keep doing what HE felt was a good thing to do... May be he had had a tragedy in his family, maybe he was mad. As I crossed him, I wanted to catch his eye and nod approvingly. He never looked At anyone, just stared blankly into nothing; and I felt him to be more alive than most of us commuters...
I think he should know that his effort is NOT going waste.
PS: Crimson Feet, thankyou for this.... Please tell him next time… And if anyone else living in Noida sees this old man, Stop, and thank. And DON’T jump that light.
Those interested in contributing: Please mail links or pieces you have written, or
pictures you have taken to : foxytanya@gmail.com
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