'Six Suspects'

To help a friend for a project about how great this nation of Bharat was, is and still can be in future, I was searching for some images about India when I fell into a deep, dark and stinking gorge of a blog about India which contained nothing positive but only filth, sorrow, suffering, poverty, crime, backwardness, uncertainty, insecurities, evils, fears, hate and venom for India. That person titled "Zillion reasons to escape from India" to his/her blog and has totally dedicated his life to magnify every evil of India in his words. Spending very few minutes on those pages literally were like spending that much time in a hell for me. These are the people who can never find a tiny good thing about their country or could lift a finger to rectify a problem but would do their best to bring that weakness in front of the lousy spectators of entire world with the royal bash of orchestration. I don't know what do these people gain from such shameless self exposure but certainly few people do make money out of it and one of them is Mr. Vikas Swarup.

Six Suspects by Vikas Swarup is not very different from his 'very famous' novel Q&A. This Q&A is the same novel which gave a very proud new name to Indians, that is "Slumdog". I agree that every creative writer, poet or artist always tries to bring untouched, unseen and under the current subjects to his or her creativity but according to my knowledge Swarup has written only two novels and both are about the so called pathetic state of India. I think he have learnt the mantra of selling in global market where movies like Lagaan loses the rat race of Oscar and movies like Slumdog Millionaire bags all the awards.

Six Suspects is a twisted story of Jassica Lal murder case where accused is a spoiled son of a wealthy corrupt politician and both father son duo manipulates law accordingly to their will and gain. That son "Vicky Rai" in this story is murdered in the celebration party of his acquittal from this murder and police arrest six persons from the party under suspicion. These six suspects include, a leading Indian actress who is cheated by her cousin, an American who is cheated by an Indian, a tribal who's tribe is cheated by their welfare officer, a retired diplomat who cheated his wife and then is now cheated by his keep, a slumdog youth who was cheated by his luck all his life and finally that corrupt politician who kept cheating innocent people till now and was cheated by his own son in the end. So the whole story is about corruption, deceit and backstabbing which obviously prevail ONLY in India and ONLY things which prevail in India according these kind of writers. Mr. Vikas Swarup is an Indian diplomat in Indian Foreign Services and I think he cannot serve India better than what he has done by his writings to paint Indian picture in front of this globe.

Some very highly educated, open minded, global viewing and let's-face-the-fact attitude people may stand with their views of justifying such 'bold' topics but I would prefer to stay illiterate than to enjoy and applause such indiscriminate oeuvre about my country which is not entirely true.

'Tishay.......that's enough'

It was around a year and four months ago when last time this space was used for 'Tishay'. Since then countless 'huggies' have crossed under his legs. Since then many household items have reached their fate of untimely deaths or have crippled. If Tishay's toys could talk, they must have called him 'Terminator'. Any thing in his hands would be shattered on the floor as if he was a 'F-16, deployed in Iraq' in his previous life. He is not afraid of cockroaches and would hold one in his hand to see the horrific reaction on his mom's face. He loves travelling, we came to know about this nature of his when one Sunday we all were busy attending some guests and later realised that Tishay was missing. First in home then in neighbourhood and finally I had to take out car only to find him in near market sitting on a rickshaw shouting at confused rickshawala to take him on a tour. There are very familiar and stereotyped noises coming out of our house nowadays. Either it is a shattering noise or shouts of 'Tishayyyyyyyyy Enough, Tishu BUS KAR.......... Tishu........... my head is aching, Tishey ...............for God sake" etc etc. Everybody want him to sleep for a while. But he would sleep only after everyone and as if it's not enough, would wake before everyone else.

Tishay have started mumbling full sentences now. He is very curious and wants to explore everything he sees. His smartest teacher is Pogo. He also likes watching Nat Geo with me only to keep blasting, "Papa......... O Ka Ai (Woh Kya Hai .........whats that) ?" He is also getting fond of commercials on TV and tries to repeat after them. His favourite is Airtel's kid saying "Papa ka phone aayaa tha na". Whenever that ad is on TV, within seconds Tishay would emerge from nowhere like a missile from sky. I bet his teachers in playway are much happy to see him off in noon than to receive him in the morning. He loves to draw and his colourful drawings are exhibited free of cost for any visitor on the walls of our home. He also likes guessing pictures on his book of alphabets. The only problem is he would keep pointing his tiny lovely index finger on the picture for you to answer his non-stop 'what is that' questions. Whenever we are tired of a visitor, we would send Tishay to him along his alphabet book. Easy!

Tishay wants to have a doggy now. But as I am reluctant so far, his adventures with doggies of neighbourhood are on. They all are his best friends to play with. Though a head-ache, he is apple of our eye, beat of my heart. Taking him in my lap makes me feel heavenly and I can easily sail off from my worldly worries. But only problem is, like a frog he won't sit peacefully in my lap for long. "Papa............ O Ka Ai" ??

'The 3 Mistakes of My Life'

I heard and vaguely read a lot about Chetan Bhagat some time back when he was emerging as a writer on Indian horizon but simultaneously I kept ignoring those tv clips and news articles as I feel that our media always overreact and get horribly obsessed with any such issues where any Indian effort gets even a little foreigner attention. I am not saying proudly that I admire this habit of mine but I honestly feel that way. And cause of such nasty habit of being prejudice, many times I do miss enjoying some good things. Only cause of this habit till now I haven't seen 'Slumdog Millionaire' (that's another point that right now I am reading another novel 'Six Suspects' by Vikas Swarup, the same author of original novel 'Q & A' of Slumdog Millionaire) even after approvals of some friends. Anyway, we were talking of Chetan Bhagat, and few days ago I saw his novel 'The 3 Mistakes of My Life' in a shelf of the 'latest books' rack of my beloved 'Municipal Library' and got it issued.

I must admit here, though I got a fair idea from prologue that 'Gujarat' is going to be discussed in the novel, the prologue of book was so interesting that I could not help myself finishing the book ASAP even against the periodically repeated stern stares of sleepy eyes of my wife which used to start exactly one hour after each midnight. (If looks could kill - I better get a reading lamp now). Whenever the word 'Gujarat' came in front of my eyes or hits my ears, my both eyebrows shake hands together, my lip line dips downward and a sound of 'chuch chuch' comes out of my mouth automatically. In these seven years, I have gone really sick of these riots. Thanks to our secular media who is not letting this terrible happenings fade off as easily as countless other riots in the history of independent India have died and buried without much fuss.

Now thankfully, this story is not only about riots but also of friendship, passion, business, love and Cricket. And all these five (or six if to add riot) elements are essential ingredients of any average Indian life. Govind, Omi and Ish are best friends who dream like common Indian youths and try to convert those dreams into reality when different events keep changing their lives in different aspects. The main character is Govind who is narrating the story and about the mistakes he made in his life. The momentum of story never halts throughout the novel. As in the last pages riots took over, I am thankful to Chetan that he has not tried to be a preacher about riots even then just like every writer I felt him being storyteller of single side of the coin. The mixture of reality and fiction has made this novel worth reading. The end of the novel reminds me of the end of 'Dil Chahta Hai'.

The result of this novel? I am gonna try the other two (or three may be) books by Chetan Bhagat.

'The Faithful Spy'

'The Faithful Spy' is the debut novel by Alex Berenson, a correspondent by profession. The plot is beautiful, story is holding and contents are touching.

A CIA agent John Wells has penetrated Al-Qaeda network and trying to win trust of Laden and his deputies. In efforts to win trust of higher level of Qaeda, he spend so many years with jihadis in Chechnya, Afghanistan and Pakistan. During these years he genuinely converts to Islam and adopts Islamic rituals, though his mission remains intact. Being a foreigner and of a shady background Taliban didn't trust him completely and being unable to warn of 9/11 and LA bombings, his own agency got wary of him. In the last Taliban sent him to America for a huge terror plan where he is the alone person standing against the mission with both sides not trusting him. "What happens next " question never let a reader put off the book.

As terror has become a part of our life, the incidents in the novel sound so real and not fiction at all, even then Jihadi's die hard attempts to attain chemical, biological and nuclear weapons shock reader with horror waves. The plight of John Wells being a 'Non jihadi Muslim', somewhere reflects the same much debated issue within our society. The self suiting interpretation of Koran by jihadis and fueling the fire by Maulvis didn't let a madrass educated brain & heart sail away from so called Jihad. "We have plenty of fighters, what we need are scientists" a phrase by Laden's deputy in the novel reveals the map of their mentality and a clear and present danger too.

Look-alike Can Kill !

If I had another person in the car, he would have heard my heartbeat without any effort. My heartbeat had taken a vertical flight all of sudden. "Was that her?" I asked none other but myself while staring the reflection in the rear view mirror of the car ahead me.

Image of the driver in mirror of the car ahead my car was very resembling to her. We were driving in the hills and there was not much traffic on the road. The very thought of the possibility of her driving front of me had risen my pulse rate. "Damn it Praney, let her be if she is her. Why you are so bothered?" I tried to agree to my inner voice and tried to calm down. But was that so easy? I was still watching her in the mirror, trying to confirm whether it was her or someone else. But constant curves and her fast driving didn't let me be sure. She was really driving bit fast. I am a cool driver and do not drive rashly but in attempt to stay close of her so I could watch her in the mirror, I accelerated a bit.

"When did she learn driving?" I was calculating all the options of her being her or someone else. "Why not ? Can't she learn driving? It's been so many years and without learning to drive a car one is burden these days." I was arguing within myself. "But what the hell you think are you doing you fool" the inner of myself jerked me strongly. "She dumped you years back and you foolish still fighting for her little glimpse? What difference would that make if that is her or someone else. Let her go to hell damn it" I totally stand by what half of my heart was shouting. I thought of slowing down to my normal speed. But the other half was doing his job silently "Just a look and we shall leave to our directions. What's the harm?"

The lady driving front car was quite like her. She was wearing spectacles like her. Her hair were short like her (as she had in those good times). And the town ahead was her parental town. An elderly lady was sitting besides her on the front passenger seat who could be her mother or mother in law may be. There were strong possibilities of her being her. "Did she see me too?" I was thinking cause I saw her watching me back in mirror. "She did not see you when she should have and when you needed her most, what are you expecting from her now. Don't be a sentimental ass---- and be a man. Let her layoff. Why can't you erase her from your mind even after so many years?" "Fourteen years" I tried to be exact to my self. My half heart was right. In these long fourteen years for countless times I had cursed her in those sleepless nights for what she did to me and then the same time regretted my own words for her. Since then I have managed to put a brave face in front of all. I haven't seen her for over fourteen years. She was enjoying her life (I hope) and I have grown above it too (I hope). I thought I had erased her off my mind and soul. Then why her thoughts still got the power to thrill me or to haunt me if to be specific ? What made me so vulnerable and herself so permanent ? I do not know how many kilometers I drove sailing in these thoughts. That car had sped away since long. I sighed and felt pathetic simultaneously. "Come on buddy, she is gone for good and you should get over it, live your life and throw her thoughts in the waste bin once for all." My mind told me like always. I agreed like always and turned the volume high of car radio.

My breath leaped at the next turn. That car was stopped at a gas station and the driver was stepping out. My all the vows vanished in the air and I was watching her with my jaw dropped. And all sudden everything changed dramatically. She was not her. I drove past them smoothly and my mind was laughing at me. "What the hell man. what a drama it was." Both halves of my heart were silent now. No one knew what to say. I wish car FM was playing "I'll get over you" from Pretty Woman.

Happy Ashok Chakra Day !

Unlike every year this day, watching the show of 'Might of India' at Rajpath didn't let me have feel of pride for my country. Instead my heart is thickly covered by clouds of gloom and despair .

What are these Bramhos or Agni or Bhishma missiles are worth of ? What is the use of wasting money on all these weaponry ? What can a gun do if the hands handling it are not capable of pressing a trigger ? Our leaders are weak, sick and compromising. Our media is cynical and is interested only in numbers of circulation and TRP.

An Academy or Oscar award is more than enough for the people of this country to forget every slap & insult on them and dance madly on the eve of "Fight Against Terrorism". Indeed we all are Slumdogs and many of them are millionaires. Insensitive, incapable, without any self respect and ready to be crushed by any Jihadi like a stinking worm. Thanks to our DNA, the momentary anger of Indians after 26/11 is vaporised completely.

I am not a war freak but thinks, a country of 7 millions Israel, is far batter than the country of 2 billions who rocked the whole world on the killings of it's merely 10 citizens. Here leave the physical war away, the country of Chanakya has even lost the diplomatic war against Pakistan. "All options are open" boasting ministers are endlessly waiting other countries to do laundry for India. And with PM going for medical leave for another month have thrown the issue of Mumbai attacks forever into trash bin.

People here are more sensitive to save so called secularism than the safety and honour of India & Indians even if it means the burial of whole country by the hands of Islamic terrorism. Here enough is never enough. We are once again ready for another attack at another place. This is what spineless creatures are worth of. Our defence and home ministries should be re fabricated for writing dialogues in Hindi cinema. DRDO, ISRO and Ordinance factories should stop producing all these missiles or tanks and should start mass production of Ashok Chakra to be presented to Indians posthumously on every republic day. Because there will be no stopping on such award ceremonies ever.

Come on Jihadis come on ! We are again ready to be humiliated and killed by your holy hands.

Bye 2008 !

As pages of city edition of my newspaper are filled with the advertisements for the parties on the eve of New Year celebrations, there are also news of people & institutions who are not celebrating this year cause of Mumbai terror attacks.

Attacks, invasions or terrorism are not new for India. Starting 325 BC by Alexander, hundreds of different invaders crossed the borders of India till now. If to talk of Independent India, within 60 days of Independence we were attacked by Pakistan in October 1947. We have fought four wars since then and fighting indirect war of terrorism for more than two decades. But something is different this time. What's is that?

Indians are up against terrorism this time. Unlike their usual behaviour, they are refusing to forget and forgive. Large amount of Indians are still carrying utter taste of attack even after a month. We like it or not but a war like situation is there in the air. For the first time in history, Pakistan is appealing for peace. Amid the various crisis, India seems to be standing with head held high. There are many signs (which we could not see just like Bruce Nolan in Bruce Almighty) pointing towards the rise of Indians and of India.

Celebrations or no celebrations but all I pray for is, no Indian should ever let this wound of attack heel. Cause if we did, we will have to face & bear much more new wounds. Whatever we do, we should never let interests of India off from our view. Every pride or fall of our nation should be our personal pride or fall. This torch of nationalism should never die down and we all will see the predictions of Maharishi Arvind and calculations of Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam come true.

I wish the start of India's era by the end of that year and end of our plight by the start of this year. I wish an endless start of wonderful time for all of us and above all for our loving India.