The Imperialism Argument


Almost twenty years ago, the democratically-elected and subsequently beatified Prime Minister of Pakistan instigated and covertly supported a process of ethnic cleansing of Kashmiri Pandits. So total was Pakistan’s victory that not only was the demographics of the Valley altered forever but the whole act happened silently as the ever-awake Indian intelligentsia looked the other way.

With democracy back in Pakistan and the concomitant pressure to keep the awaam placated, it is no co-incidence that Pakistan’s new political masters have once again decided to up the ante with respect to Kashmir through their minions embedded in Hindustan. With supposedly unprecedented number of Kashmiris having taken to the streets shouting for “azaadi” and more vocally for Pakistani rule, we are being told that the struggle for Kashmiri independence (or accession to Pakistan, which sounds less romantic) has reached a critical stage, one from which there is no return.

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The PJ Of The Month


The original incident: [Link]

A Singapore national by the name of Chuk Lay Hoon was detailed at Indira Gandhi International Airport and suspected of carrying explosives inside bottles of honey. The security people made him drink 10% from one bottle and even after that refused to let him carry the bottles causing much heartburn all around.

Now the Poor Joke that this inspired.

Security guard 1: Ai ! What is this in these jars? Yeh machine to bol raha hain explosive
Security guard 2: Likha to hain honey….
Security guard 1: Don’t believe it. Usko woh honey chukne ko bol humare saamne. Agar bach gya to theek hain.
Security guard 2 (to puzzled passenger): Chal. Chuk le.
Man (not understanding—thinking they are saying his name): No No. Not Chuk Le. Chuk Lay Hoon.
Security guard 1: Abhe. Bol raha hain ki “chuk liya hoon”. Abhi chuk ke dikha. Yahaan pe. Here here

Next month’s PJ: Same joke but with the man’s name as Bum Sook Li and the security guards in search for hidden contraband material .

The New Hope?


With the recent one day series victory in Sri Lanka, MS Dhoni advances yet another step on the path of cricketing greatness. While no doubt not as attention-grabbing as the ODI series win against Australia in Australia or financially as rewarding as the T20 World Cup victory in South Africa, this unprecedented series win is no less significant, coming off as it does in Sri Lanka and against the wiles of a mystery man, who has dominated India unlike any other bowler in recent times. Add to it Dhoni’s ungainly but thoroughly effective handling  of Mendis and his stepping up to the plate as the team’s main batsman in the potentially debilitating absence of Sehwag and Yuvraj Singh’s continued state of cricketing discombobulation, and one may begin to understand the significance of Dhoni’s personal contribution to the victory.

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This Blog Hits Four


Random Thoughts of a Demented Mind turns four on the 20th of August. And to commemorate this occasion, I, as a proud father, join voices with Prabhuji Mithunda, as he sings, in his very own voice , the following song.

“Aaj mere Munne ki saal giraah hain”

Four years in the turbo-accelerated Indian blogworld is like forty in the real considering the sheer amount of change, both in terms of the number of blogs and overall readership, one has witnessed over these years.

If on August 20, 2004 someone would have told me that in August 2008, people like Amitabh Bachchan, Aamir Khan, Ram Gopal Verma and Karan Johar would be blogging I would have laughed him off by saying: “Yeah right ! I can just see the future. Amitabh Bachchan, who we know for his strong silence and aloofness, would be using his blog, perhaps twice a day, to take swipes at every Tom Dick and Harry who criticizes him. Aamir Khan would spend his keemti time informing us of the name of his dog (which happens to be Shahrukh) . Ram Gopal Verma would be justifying his questionable creative decisions through his blog. Hah ! Dude no way is that happening in four or four hundred years. What stuff are you smoking?”

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Explicating the Expletive


A video that found its way into my inbox is one in which certain lady students of a prestigious Indian management institute are captured on film,walking down the street shouting obscenities at a rival college during an inter-college fest.

Some people are shocked at the language coming out of the mouths of students of one of the nation’s premier centers of learning.  Some people, who are not so naive as the first group, are still dismayed that some of the corporate leaders of tomorrow, pursuing an  advanced degree, would so “give in to the moment”  fully cognizant of the fact that they were being recorded  and that there exists the very real possibility that one of the persons watching this video may be a current or prospective employer/professor who may take a dim view of what he/she just saw?  For most people however it is the fact that  humanoids who remind us of our ma-behen are speculating about the anatomies of other people’s ma behen that is the most disturbing—-what has the country come to?

What would Nirupa Roy have done? Subject to the most terrible of depredations would she have said “Seth Dharmdas, tune ek widhawa ko beghar kar diya, uske beton ko bheekh maagne ke liye majboor kia…..teri maan ki….”?

Possibly not.

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Sona Sona Dil Mera Sona


At last. India wins an individual gold medal. After 112 years.

Screw ace-swimmer Michael Phelps and his quest for 8 individual gold medals.

Woh kya jaane ek gold ki keemat.

Humse puchho yaar.

And in this golden moment, when we as a nation step from an old age to the new,  it is time to remember those who made this achievement possible and express our sincerest gratitude to them.

So come join me in thanking the following ——

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The Bengali Roar


[Unrelated to this post but congratulations to Abhinav Bindra for getting us a GOLD. At last.]

Many years ago, on the walls of Sealdah railway station, I saw the following poster put up by a Bangali revivalist organization called “Amra Bangali”.( We are Bengalis) It said:

Bangali gorje otho ! (Translation: Bangalis Rise up and Roar !)

Below the bold red font, someone, with a delicious sense of irony, had scribbled in miniscule letters, with the size no doubt reflecting the feebleness of the Bengali tiger:


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