Rishikesh-"Sanity Sabbatical"    

   

Dear Mom,

                                                                                                                        

Preface

It’s 1:26 AM in the morning.. while I am still pregnant with indelible memories of the trip ,I thought of putting the  pen to paper..

How do you even begin to describe all this….

Observing Different cultures  always makes up for a therapeutic write…

Over time we build “stock-emotions” so these breaks kinda rejuvenates them.. start afresh.. refill ourselves... we let life happen a bit..!!

Funny things happen to time…its burlesque.. here amidst ever-burgeoning city life, time slow motions itself…In the same moment there in the lap of nature, hours are gushing past us, as if ,

we are running on a time tread-mill and apparently we start savouring minutes and  seconds!

ACT 1

The journey started around 11:30 PM the scheduled date…There were no humans to be found on our bus…only the Fun-Zombies….

Whoever said..” Journey is more fulfilling than destination”…I could automatically catch the pulse he was talking about…

Fun.. Frolic.. songs.. dances… mimicry.. sarcasm  were what the moments were composed of…age was just a number floating around.. After rounds of drinks.. even that blurred down to its bare minimum…

We Reached….

It’s market day Mom! And it seems Rishikesh is an ongoing  party where everyone is invited. Cliché’s converge at the navel of this city.

I almost want to laugh, but can’t help feeling that these Rishikeshians know more about life than we do. Everybody here is a free thinking heretic.

Chaos, culture….it’s all celebrated within the confines of Rishikesh .It only demands one thing of people ..to be truly awake!..

My tea gang Mom ..that I often keep mentioning about…Ankur,Ashish and Deepak...sneaked out of the Hotel in search of a tea stall…and what happened there was a profound lesson on  life..

Which rekindled our “grey matter” and left us equally in raptures!

Down in the hinterland..there stood a small shop..dingy…almost decapitated…fighting with dusty winds and a filthy flowing river nearby.…or just say, it had every natural ingredients that adds taste and smell to a herbal tea..

With few resistance from two friendly heads…we entered…

We were struck by the image that stood before us…Though we ordered our tea..we were still giggling about it!

It was a dwarf in his late 50s…albeit, He looked older than mankind itself…the cold harsh hand of time had wrinkled him beyond recognition..

I still could not take my gaze off him.. He looked funny to me…or let’s just say..I made a grave folly of judging the book by its cover…

While he added the nonessential ingredients and nature its own(essential ingredients) into our tea…He mouthed…”Ghumne… aaye ho yahan”…stern…poised.. a baritone voice..

..”Haan Baba..”…I replied..

Deepak…verbal diarrhea that he suffers from…instantly spewed “…Baba life sahi hai..Tension nahi hai..” ke bilkul viprit chal rahi hai…”whhhatt to do..”…??

We just laughed ..never surmising an answer out of him…

“..What we have is a Rhombus…..Life is a rhombus…patterns..routines…goals...a wheel of aspirations…until the disruptions we long for, comes along and that Rhombus is broken..”..Go seek that disruption…!!

Our eyes popped out ..literally… !.. it was like jabbing a knife into the dicstionary and coming out with the most appropriate and subtle definition of something as profound as life..!

He continued…

“We could live a million years and we could spend every minute of it doing  important things…But at the end of it all.. We would have only lived half a life..”

Go..Start living spherically in many directions…”…I just completely lended him my ears…You know Mom, my propensity for the words of wisdom!

He just handed us our tea…and went back to his Chanakya spot…

I was liking this Five-buck oddball conversation…I poked him….again…

“Lekin Baba..kehna ashaan hai..it’s easier said than done…”..trying to be all erudite and englishy…

He retorted back as if reprimanding me through his words..“har aadmi apne Sandaas mein raja hota hai…we sit like one…we feel like one..”...instantly ,we spared few naughty chuckles..

“….You can behave the same as well…outside your boundaries of your bathroom.….”…he continued…

When you were climbing up here to find this tea stall..…try comparing it your journey through life.. you will get all your answers…

Journey of life is like a trek up a mountain…we spend most of our time putting one foot in front of the other…we get lost..we fall..we circle back..And sometime every step is a struggle..

Until the moment comes when you find your tea stall breather..when you are able to stop ..take a breath..and look up…And see how far you have come..and understand how beautiful that is..

And suddenly the air sparkles all around us…and the beauty cracks open in all its loveliness..”…

I was lost…we were lost…wishing they taught a chapter on life in our schools rather than all the junks about fill in the blanks stuffs….Billi Nau sau chuhe khaake________ chali....…As a matter of fact

In my innocence I remember filling it...Billi nau sau chuhe khaake tedhi medhi chali… and getting slapped for it…What an absolute twaddle!!....No offence logic says..900 chuhe khaake billi tash se mash na ho….

ACT 2

To be continued…( After we came from that eventful “art of living” session by dwarf baba)

                                                                                     An oddball Conversation with “GOD”

When the battery was empty…when my smart phone did not know my GPS location….When the memory card was full and pixels empty…

When the Facebook was clueless as to what I “Liked”.. When I no longer had to express myself in 140 words…When Watsapp did not predict my “last seen status”…

When instead of using my camera, I insisted on using my eyes to load mosaic of high resolution snapshots…

When the Google asked for a much needed break… I set out for a lone time with Nature.

Wearing my black shirt with my permanent dumb look, I Reached the River side ..All I could hear was the gargling frothing sound of the flowing water…

There were rocks.. gargantuan rocks.. I snaked my way up and lied romantically in her(nature)lap ,watching the bandage on a bleeding moon that we humans were responsible for.…

I stared right into the sky with a "fill in the blank" thought…myriad emotions rustled to fill that blank..the most prominent one was of ecstasy…In the blink of an eye I was teleported back to my Biology class…where we were taught about different hormones…I could vaguely remember My teacher’s backside and no face because he loved blackboard so much so that he just kept filling it with his scribbles and leaving immidiately thereafter…but I keep thinking of him all the time who would solve every damn questions in book but would never teach us how to do them..…but one thing that still reverberates in my head is ENDORPHINS…he called it "happy hormones"…

I wish Mom, I could manufacture these hormones outside our bodies and market them in bottles or make them freely downloadable as ZIP files..…Firstly it would prove to be a great moolah raking business…secondly I would contribute to  making world a"happy" place…but here amidst Nature..i could delineate this Environment with ecstasy hormones floating around.!..

Lying so peacefully in her lap,,I thought of having a tete-a-tete with GOD.

 ..Do you have a sense of humour ? ....I asked demurely with my eyes closed  and continued with the wisdom of an idiot…

You are almighty…you created this world..and if you had a sense of humour,this world would be frigging hilarious..

But its not…its stark and brutal..lies deceit..killing. Shark attacks..really?..nothing funny about that…

And if you were funny there would be clown attacks..tickling us to death…before our lips could form a proper scream..they would say…"The Lord works in a hilarious ways son…"…..that would be funny….

 Before "he"(Yes, God is a man!) could reply…I hastened…

And why..why..and why…only the serious lessons in Gita or the Ten commandments.."Karm kar phal ki chinta mat kar"…"thou shall not commit adultery"…etcetra…etcetra…

Why not like.."thou shall not wear pants on thursdays"..that would lighten the mood of the world and stop people from using hackneyed acronym TGIF(Thank god its friday) !

I made you…I must have a sense of humour..LOL..!...he retorted…

I shrieked on God LOLing…!

he continued…and the only thing funny with TGIF is that you LMAOing generation are thanking "us" for Fridays…instead of attributing it to earth's rotation on its orbit…

I could instantly hear the banter in his voice…!

…Buddy it's no fun being worshipped once you stop being an adolescent teenager..So I escaped here in Rishikesh!...he whispered into my ears..

How did that turn out for you?.,…I chuckled.. escaping to “ Rishikesh—the land of Rishis”…it was my turn to throw a banter on him!

Why can’t you put a happiness/Love predicting algorithm inside us?..I asked with an innocence of a toddler!..

You humans complain and whine a lot yaar…why this.. why not that..!

Should you have a bad day at work, think of the man who has been out of work for years!

Should you grieve the passing of another weekend, think of the man in dire straits,working 12 hours a day,seven days a week, to feed his children..

Should you notice a new grey hair in the mirror, think of the cancer patient in chemo who wishes she had hairs to examine.

Should you find yourself at a loss and pondering what life is all about,asking what is my purpose? Be thankful, there are those who did not live long enough to get the opportunity!..

…eh! you are back to your serious boring ways.. you could have only said that. Yes Indeed,Life could be a harsh punishment in a prison.. but who said you can’t serve the sentence in Style!

…I stood up and just walked away!..

Walking towards the hut..i could hear the stray notes of music and I knew.. My Favourite ”wear-the-dancing-boots” time was beckoning me …

In those revolving twinkling lights…that set the stage..”I was buoyed by a chemical madness and in the bed of my head I let my conscience rest..

from the vague memory that I have of the eventful night..i could hazily remember those beaming colourful lights focussing all around us..In my insanity I let my tongue out to taste the lights…

and the Red,blue,green,purple and yellow sweetness breaks open in my mouth..,and as I expected, its like eating hot grapes from the mountains..

I could even smell the coloured prancing lights and touch them with my hand and suddenly a wisdom dawned on me in those hallucinating moments-

“We are standing in a cesspool of verb “was” imagining our “will/shall” to be happily ever after..but we forget that the the verb “is” is the zen of life… and there on I lost myself to the ambience….”

..Before we could realize,we were occupying our seats on the bus that would take us back to the world of “BB shouting high IMs” and the world of “tickets and stories”…

The journey back was comparatively quieter with  amazing moments of philosophical take on life by Ganesh Sir..And as he says…

I’m good..you are good..everybody is good…Its just the perspective…!..that made me think about the stereotypical Bollywood villians..They are not bad..it’s the hero who has problems with his extra cash and all time

Jamboree partying…They want heroines…but,who doesnot?..can’t blame them for that…!

Below stanza is an apt rendition of my time in Rishikesh Mom…

….क्या बताऊं मा कहाँ हूँ मैं

(Kya bataun maa kahan hun main)

यहाँ उड़ने को मेरे खुला आसमान है..

(Yahan udne ko mere khula aasmaan hai)

कैसे तुझको दिखौऊ यहाँ है क्या

(Kaise tujhko dikhaun Yahan hai kya)

मैने झरने से पानी मा तोड़ के पिया है

(Maine jharne se paani maa tod ke piya hai)

गुच्छा गुच्छा कर ख्वाबों का उछल के छुआ है

(Guccha guccha kar khwabon ko ucchal ke chhua hai)

छाया लिया भली धूप यहाँ है

(chhaya liye bhali dhoop yahan hai)

नया नया सा है रूप यहाँ

(Naya naya sa hai roop yahan)

यहाँ सब कुछ है मा फिर भी

(yahan sab kucch hai maa phhir bhi)

लगे बिन तेरे मुझको अकेला…..

(Lage bin tere mujhko akela)…

All the Love,

Your son!

(0,0,0)

.......He,However never really believed ,could unravel the mystery which had baffled the greatest mind of humankind.He certainly dint have anything resembling a great mind.....Then it occurred to him..may be great mind was not what was needed to see behind the veil of illusion.May be a true perception comes from an unbreakable gut.This realization troubled him,for he knew in his heart,that he dint have a great gut either.But then he thought....perhaps with some desperation ,may be the secret was in having a great heart... and his face was red with elation..!..oo wait..Suddenly a thought popped up in his head..may be its in a futuristic Gadgets...He was back at the (0,0,0) of the curve!!.......

Poetic Ramblings of my Quotidian Moments….!!

"..And These frigid sun-rays, forked by my window.. paints a distorted elegance of a svelte female form on my bed…The entangled mire of wires laid around my bed shadows her with human veins..I,then brush a paint stroke of lips on it ,with the red blinking light from my "Not-so-alive" Mouse…running that blinking red light over her assets give her that one particular molecule of gushing blood in her artificial(wired) veins.. And suddenly with the melting of sun.. She ebbs away..And all I could see now from my window are.. mixed stray notes of music floating in the arctic air…A cold struck old man wanting to start his prayers... Inanimate subway passengers ..Noida high rises.. wilting flowers…A still man on a running road..my empty bed with an empty me, and around it,the partially eaten food and a half spilled coffee on my diary titled "Omnium-gatherum of Moron's mind"….And a world cut into these mundane pieces.."
..And There she appears again presenting me with the labyrinth of possibilities to ogle her again and ruminate over her appearance with the prism of my imagination…..!

Review

Last time i watched Dhoom 2 All I wrote was .."Did a monkey get access to a typewriter again"...it was all Mr. Adonis and no brains!
But this time expectations galore..and boy!! did it live upto its hype...!!

If i wanted to find,you know,there are plethora of noticeable flaws.. but with a plausible suspension of belief..all i could perceive was appreciation..Appreciation for a man almost in his 50s..appreciation for the gravity defying stunts..appreciation for the barbie doll of bollywood..She is an amorous ball of Oestrogen...a dripping male fantasy...Gadzooks !..i knew i would get diverted into a completely different path, moment i start writing about "her"..So back to the track again...

No offence .but i never considered Aamir a 'great' actor..i mean i never came out of theatres saying wow...what great acting talents this man has..it was always his choice of scripts that took precedence over his acting skills..always!..But here..method actor that he is.. he looked good as an acrobat...he looked perfect as an autistic savant..schmaltzy when romantically involved with goddess 'kaamini'...perfectly sculpted contours of her female assets makes me want to venture in the world of literotica...Katrina eroticised the 70mm screen and roamed over it like a lascivious paint strokes of artists who conspire to arouse our beings in undeniable pleasures...phew! here i go again..diverted..

ehh..where was i..yeah.. so i was saying..Don't expect a "Dark knight" or else you will come out with "Dark knight rises" in your hand..Is it a mix of "Now you see me" and "the prestige"..let me tell you vociferously...NO it's not..it's a plain or more appropriately complicated and gooey bollywood flick...Just don't ask too many questions because you have to brace yourselves up for a bike that turns into a boat..that turns into a submarine and into a flying bike..So, Go have a smashingly good time..appreciate the beauty..Go malang malang dum dum malang malang..!.I am rambling now...I will shut up on a note.."One man's art is another man's porn..."...

Chetan.mkv

...Visited my own blog-page after what could be described as slightly longer than Jesus lived..Found it covered with dust and cobwebs and here I am set to change all that.. .."

Woke up today to the news of tragic death of 19 year old Nido taniam..a North east guy who was lynched to death by local people in South Delhi... With a cup of tea in one hand and morning slumber in the other..it would have been easier to assume things and label it as a racist attack but instead of concentrating on the problem,i tried dwelling on the solution..i say "solution" and not 'solutions' because however hard i tried i could not propel my mind to make it plural..and only thing my mind could latch onto was.."Read Read and Read"...
We need to read fiction Books,Novels and articles.Why?...Because if my memory serves me right..We were popped out of creativity and Spontaneity..rather we were "educated" out of it..No offence ,But i am sorry to say, that a lot of junk is being churned out in our schools and colleges..Those syllabus/curriculum, for Godsake, are outdated.. If I am right..still those 10 men are trying to plough the same field which was already ploughed by 20 men in 10 days...its time we tell them..mate its been ploughed!..let go!..Could somebody please update them "Sirs,that fertile land is already been taken..We have built Parliament there and field has been rendered infertile now (Not by the constructed building of course, but by the clowns that run the show there!!).. its high time we include the chapters in our syllabus.."How to cope with the loss of somebody"..."How to respect a fellow human being".."Life after marriage"..."How to deal with love post economic-liberalisation"..."The umpteen lessons on life"...et cetera et cetera ... 
But I think this thought will be in "Pending Researching" or "Work in Progress(WIP)" for another 500 years...SLA breached!!..So what do we do?..We create our own make believe world of creativity..How do we do it?..Through fiction..!Because it teaches us the concept of "empathy"..it lets us interpret things and see it in broader horizon before branding anything on the basis of caste creed or sex...it will peel off the various layers that we are made of..make us appreciate the different formats that like everything we humans are made of..you.mp4..me.jpeg..they.xls and not expect everything and everybody to run with same quality. Stories makes us Child again and instils the same sense of spontaneity with better morals of judgement and an improvisational mindset. I heard a fascinating story recently and i cant end without telling it... "A little girl was in a drawing lesson.She was 6.She was at the back, drawing...The teacher said she hardly paid any attention but at this drawing lesson, she did.The teacher was fascinated and she went over and asked..."What are you drawing, kid?..The girl replied.."I am drawing a picture of God."..The teacher intriguingly said..."But Nobody knows What God looks like?"...The Girl replied..."they will... in a minute"...Thats, how spontaneous ,we are as a kid. 

 Read Fiction..Read Books!!

"DISTORTED TRUTHS"-season A,episode1

Why NATHURAM GODSE Killed Gandhi..
Godse is often a misunderstood character. He is referred to as a Hindu fanatic. It is often hard to understand Godse because the Government of India had suppressed information about him. His court statements, letters etc. were all banned from the public until recently. Judging from his writings one thing becomes very clear – He was no fanatic. His court statements are very well read out and indicate a calm and collected mental disposition. He never even once speaks ill about Gandhi as a person, but only attacks Gandhi’s policies which caused ruin and untold misery to Hindus. Another interesting point to note is that Godse had been working with the Hindu refugees fleeing from Pakistan. He had seen the horrible atrocities committed on them. Many women had their hands cut off, nose cut off, even little girls had been raped mercilessly. Despite this Godse did not harm even single Muslim in India which he could easily have. So it would be a grave mistake to call him a Hindu fanatic.

Let us start by studying the motive behind Godse’s act. By seeing the nature of the assassination in public space and Godse’s act of turning himself over to the Police, we can see that Godse did not do this for personal reasons. He very well knew that he would be hanged and his name would be disgraced as Gandhi was considered a saint. And again Godse could have ran away and escaped punishment. But he did the reverse. He called a police officer and courted arrest. Before we proceed it would be wise to understand the backdrop of the assassination.

The central government had taken a decision — Pakistan will not be given Rs 55 crores. On January 13 Gandhi started a fast unto death that Pakistan must be given the money. On January 13, the central government changed its earlier decision and announced that Pakistan would be given the amount. On January 13, Nathuram decided to assassinate Gandhi.

Nathuram Godse was a learned man, very sharp and intelligent – editor of “Agrani” (one of the most famous newspaper of that time – with Nana Aapte). In his last editorial of “Agrani” which he changed overnight – he said “Gandhi must be stopped – at any cost” and he justified why Gandhiji’s assassination was not only inevitable but also a delayed action, sth tht shud’ve happened LONG AGO.

In Nathuram’s words - “ I don’t refute Gandhi’s theory of non-violence. He may be a saint but he is not a politician. His theory of non-violence denies self-defence and self-interest. The non-violence that defines the fight for survival as violence is a theory not of non-violence but of self-destruction.The division of the nation was an unnecessary decision. What was the percentage of the Muslim population as compared to the population of the nation? There was no need for a separate nation. Had it been a just demand, Maulana Azad would not have stayed back in India. But because Jinnah insisted and because Gandhi took his side, India was divided, in spite of opposition from the nation, the Cabinet. An individual is never greater than a nation.

In a democracy you cannot put forward your demands at knife-point. Jinnah did it and Gandhi stabbed the nation with the same knife. He dissected the land and gave a piece to Pakistan. We did picket that time but in vain. The Father of our Nation went to perform his paternal duties for Pakistan! Gandhi blackmailed the cabinet with his fast unto death. His body, his threats to die are causing the destruction — geographical as well as economical — of the nation. Today, Muslims have taken a part of the nation, tomorrow Sikhs may ask for Punjab. The religions are again dividend into castes, they will demand sub-divisions of the divisions. What remains of the concept of one nation, national integration? Why did we fight the British in unison for independence? Why not separately? Bhagat Singh did not ask only for an independent Punjab or Subhash Chandra Bose for an independent Bengal?

I am going to assassinate him in the open, before the public, because I am going to do it as my duty. If I do it surreptitiously, it becomes a crime in my own eyes. I will not try to escape, I will surrender and naturally I will be hanged. One assassination, one hanging. I don’t want two executions for one assassination and I don’t want your involvement, participation or company. (This was for Nana-Apte and Veer Savarkar as they were against ghandhi’s policies too, Godse wanted to assassinate gandhi all by himself and took promise from Nana Apte that he will continue helping Veer Savarkar in rebuilding India as a strong free nation.)

On January 30, I reached Birla Bhavan at 12 pm. Gandhi was sitting outside on a cot enjoying the sunshine. Vallabhbhai Patel’s granddaughter was sitting at his feet. I had the revolver with me. I could have assassinated him easily then, but I was convinced that his assassination was to be a punishment and a sentence against him, and I would execute him. I wanted witnesses for the execution but there were none. I did not want to escape after the execution as there was not an iota of guilt in my mind. I wanted to surrender, but surrender to whom? There was a good crowd to collect for the evening prayers. I decided on the evening of January 30 as the date for Gandhi’s execution.

Gandhi climbed the steps and came forward. He had kept his hands on the shoulders of the two girls. I wanted just three seconds more. I moved two steps forward and faced Gandhi. Now I wanted to take out the revolver and salute him for whatever sacrifice and service he had made for the nation. One of the two girls was dangerously close to Gandhi and I was afraid that she might be injured in the course of firing. As a precautionary measure I went one more step ahead, bowed before him and gently pushed the girl away from the firing line. The next moment I fired at Gandhi. Gandhi was very weak, there was a feeble sound like ‘aah’ (There are proof that Gandhi did NOT say “Hey Raam” at that time – it’s just made up stuff ) from him and he fell down.

After the firing I raised my hand holding the revolver and shouted, ‘Police, police’. For 30 seconds nobody came forward and I scanned the crowd. I saw a police officer. I signalled to him to come forward and arrest me. He came and caught my wrist, then a second man came and touched the revolver… I let it go…”


This is Nathuram Godse’s speech in court.



Born in a devotional Brahmin family, I instinctively came to revere Hindu religion, Hindu history and Hindu culture. I had, therefore, been intensely proud of Hinduism as a whole. As I grew up I developed a tendency to free thinking unfettered by any superstitious allegiance to any isms, political or religious. That is why I worked actively for the eradication of untouchability and the caste system based on birth alone. I openly joined anti-caste movements and maintained that all Hindus were of equal status as to rights, social and religious and should be considered high or low on merit alone and not through the accident of birth in a particular caste or profession. I used publicly to take part in organized anti-caste dinners in which thousands of Hindus, Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, Chamars and Bhangis participated. We broke the caste rules and dined in the company of each other.I have read the speeches and writings of Dadabhai Nairoji, Vivekanand, Gokhale, Tilak, along with the books of ancient and modern history of India and some prominent countries like England, France, America and’ Russia. Moreover I studied the tenets of Socialism and Marxism. But above all I studied very closely whatever Veer Savarkar and Gandhiji had written and spoken, as to my mind these two ideologies have contributed more to the moulding of the thought and action of the Indian people during the last thirty years or so, than any other single factor has done.

All this reading and thinking led me to believe it was my first duty to serve Hindudom and Hindus both as a patriot and as a world citizen. To secure the freedom and to safeguard the just interests of some thirty crores (300 million) of Hindus would automatically constitute the freedom and the well being of all India, one fifth of human race. This conviction led me naturally to devote myself to the Hindu Sanghtanist ideology and programme, which alone, I came to believe, could win and preserve the national independence of Hindustan, my Motherland, and enable her to render true service to humanity as well.

Since the year 1920, that is, after the demise of Lokamanya Tilak, Gandhiji’s influence in the Congress first increased and then became supreme. His activities for public awakening were phenomenal in their intensity and were reinforced by the slogan of truth and non-violence, which he paraded ostentatiously before the country. No sensible or enlightened person could object to those slogans. In fact there is nothing new or original in them. They are implicit in every constitutional public movement. But it is nothing but a mere dream if you imagine that the bulk of mankind is, or can ever become, capable of scrupulous adherence to these lofty principles in its normal life from day to day. In fact, honour, duty and love of one’s own kith and kin and country might often compel us to disregard non-violence and to use force. I could never conceive that an armed resistance to an aggression is unjust. I would consider it a religious and moral duty to resist and, if possible, to overpower such an enemy by use of force. [In the Ramayana] Rama killed Ravana in a tumultuous fight and relieved Sita. [In the Mahabharata], Krishna killed Kansa to end his wickedness; and Arjuna had to fight and slay quite a number of his friends and relations including the revered Bhishma because the latter was on the side of the aggressor. It is my firm belief that in dubbing Rama, Krishna and Arjuna as guilty of violence, the Mahatma betrayed a total ignorance of the springs of human action.

In more recent history, it was the heroic fight put up by Chhatrapati Shivaji that first checked and eventually destroyed the Muslim tyranny in India. It was absolutely essentially for Shivaji to overpower and kill an aggressive Afzal Khan, failing which he would have lost his own life. In condemning history’s towering warriors like Shivaji, Rana Pratap and Guru Gobind Singh as misguided patriots, Gandhiji has merely exposed his self-conceit. He was, paradoxical, as it may appear, a violent pacifist who brought untold calamities on the country in the name of truth and non-violence, while Rana Pratap, Shivaji and the Guru will remain enshrined in the hearts of their countrymen forever for the freedom they brought to them.

The accumulating provocation of thirty-two years, culminating in his last pro-Muslim fast, at last goaded me to the conclusion that the existence of Gandhi should be brought to an end immediately. Gandhi had done very well in South Africa to uphold the rights and well being of the Indian community there. But when he finally returned to India he developed a subjective mentality under which he alone was to be the final judge of what was right or wrong. If the country wanted his leadership, it had to accept his infallibility; if it did not, he would stand aloof from the Congress and carry on his own way. Against such an attitude there can be no halfway house. Either Congress had to surrender its will to his and had to be content with playing second fiddle to all his eccentricity, whimsicality, metaphysics and primitive vision, or it had to carry on without him. He alone was the Judge of everyone and everything; he was the master brain guiding the civil disobedience movement; no other could know the technique of that movement. He alone knew when to begin and when to withdraw it. The movement might succeed or fail, it might bring untold disaster and political reverses but that could make no difference to the Mahatma’s infallibility. ‘A Satyagrahi can never fail’ was his formula for declaring his own infallibility and nobody except himself knew what a Satyagrahi is.

Thus, the Mahatma became the judge and jury in his own cause. These childish insanities and obstinacies, coupled with a most severe austerity of life, ceaseless work and lofty character made Gandhi formidable and irresistible. Many people thought that his politics were irrational but they had either to withdraw from the Congress or place their intelligence at his feet to do with, as he liked. In a position of such absolute irresponsibility Gandhi was guilty of blunder after blunder, failure after failure, disaster after disaster.

Gandhi’s pro-Muslim policy is blatantly in his perverse attitude on the question of the national language of India. It is quite obvious that Hindi has the most prior claim to be accepted as the premier language. In the beginning of his career in India, Gandhi gave a great impetus to Hindi but as he found that the Muslims did not like it, he became a champion of what is called Hindustani. Everybody in India knows that there is no language called Hindustani; it has no grammar; it has no vocabulary. It is a mere dialect; it is spoken, but not written. It is a bastard tongue and crossbreed between Hindi and Urdu, and not even the Mahatma’s sophistry could make it popular. But in his desire to please the Muslims he insisted that Hindustani alone should be the national language of India. His blind followers, of course, supported him and the so-called hybrid language began to be used. The charm and purity of the Hindi language was to be prostituted to please the Muslims. All his experiments were at the expense of the Hindus.

From August 1946 onwards the private armies of the Muslim League began a massacre of the Hindus. The then Viceroy, Lord Wavell, though distressed at what was happening, would not use his powers under the Government of India Act of 1935 to prevent the rape, murder and arson. The Hindu blood began to flow from Bengal to Karachi with some retaliation by the Hindus. The Interim Government formed in September was sabotaged by its Muslim League members right from its inception, but the more they became disloyal and treasonable to the government of which they were a part, the greater was Gandhi’s infatuation for them. Lord Wavell had to resign as he could not bring about a settlement and he was succeeded by Lord Mountbatten. King Log was followed by King Stork.

The Congress, which had boasted of its nationalism and socialism, secretly accepted Pakistan literally at the point of the bayonet and abjectly surrendered to Jinnah. India was vivisected and one-third of the Indian territory became foreign land to us from August 15, 1947. Lord Mountbatten came to be described in Congress circles as the greatest Viceroy and Governor-General this country ever had. The official date for handing over power was fixed for June 30, 1948, but Mountbatten with his ruthless surgery gave us a gift of vivisected India ten months in advance. This is what Gandhi had achieved after thirty years of undisputed dictatorship and this is what Congress party calls ‘freedom’ and ‘peaceful transfer of power’. The Hindu-Muslim unity bubble was finally burst and a theocratic state was established with the consent of Nehru and his crowd and they have called ‘freedom won by them with sacrifice’ – whose sacrifice? When top leaders of Congress, with the consent of Gandhi, divided and tore the country – which we consider a deity of worship – my mind was filled with direful anger.

One of the conditions imposed by Gandhi for his breaking of the fast unto death related to the mosques in Delhi occupied by the Hindu refugees. But when Hindus in Pakistan were subjected to violent attacks he did not so much as utter a single word to protest and censure the Pakistan Government or the Muslims concerned. Gandhi was shrewd enough to know that while undertaking a fast unto death, had he imposed for its break some condition on the Muslims in Pakistan, there would have been found hardly any Muslims who could have shown some grief if the fast had ended in his death. It was for this reason that he purposely avoided imposing any condition on the Muslims. He was fully aware of from the experience that Jinnah was not at all perturbed or influenced by his fast and the Muslim League hardly attached any value to the inner voice of Gandhi.

Gandhi is being referred to as the Father of the Nation. But if that is so, he had failed his paternal duty inasmuch as he has acted very treacherously to the nation by his consenting to the partitioning of it. I stoutly maintain that Gandhi has failed in his duty. He has proved to be the Father of Pakistan. His inner-voice, his spiritual power and his doctrine of non-violence of which so much is made of, all crumbled before Jinnah’s iron will and proved to be powerless.

Briefly speaking, I thought to myself and foresaw I shall be totally ruined, and the only thing I could expect from the people would be nothing but hatred and that I shall have lost all my honour, even more valuable than my life, if I were to kill Gandhiji. But at the same time I felt that the Indian politics in the absence of Gandhiji would surely be proved practical, able to retaliate, and would be powerful with armed forces. No doubt, my own future would be totally ruined, but the nation would be saved from the inroads of Pakistan. People may even call me and dub me as devoid of any sense or foolish, but the nation would be free to follow the course founded on the reason which I consider to be necessary for sound nation-building. After having fully considered the question, I took the final decision in the matter, but I did not speak about it to anyone whatsoever. I took courage in both my hands and I did fire the shots at Gandhiji on 30th January 1948, on the prayer-grounds of Birla House.

I do say that my shots were fired at the person whose policy and action had brought rack and ruin and destruction to millions of Hindus. There was no legal machinery by which such an offender could be brought to book and for this reason I fired those fatal shots.

I bear no ill will towards anyone individually but I do say that I had no respect for the present government owing to their policy, which was unfairly favourable towards the Muslims. But at the same time I could clearly see that the policy was entirely due to the presence of Gandhi. I have to say with great regret that Prime Minister Nehru quite forgets that his preachings and deeds are at times at variances with each other when he talks about India as a secular state in season and out of season, because it is significant to note that Nehru has played a leading role in the establishment of the theocratic state of Pakistan, and his job was made easier by Gandhi’s persistent policy of appeasement towards the Muslims.

I now stand before the court to accept the full share of my responsibility for what I have done and the judge would, of course, pass against me such orders of sentence as may be considered proper. But I would like to add that I do not desire any mercy to be shown to me, nor do I wish that anyone else should beg for mercy on my behalf. My confidence about the moral side of my action has not been shaken even by the criticism levelled against it on all sides. I have no doubt that honest writers of history will weigh my act and find the true value thereof some day in future......
its upto us to belive it or not..i wish them to reincarnate n explain to us everything...i sincerely do...every story has its flip sides!!!...i wd like to get ur views on it...start jotting it down in black and white...!!!

"FREAKONOMICS"

EUREKA EUREKA!!!! i found the true freaks i have searchin for ages...
according to the recent study by two freaks+ economists=freakonomists,from australia has placed virendra sehwag and rahul dravid ahead of the mighty SACHIN RAMESH TENDULKAR..
SINCE WHEN HAVE ECONOMISTS TURNED INTO CONNOISSEURS OF THE GAME..when riders of the cricket- coutney walsh, fierce lukin ambrose,the bully glen macgrath...RAWALPINDI EXPRESS SHOIB AKHTAR, was at their peaks..this man sachin tamed them...HIS WILLOW ALWAYS STOOD TALL...he is an outlaw who always upped his ante...
lets see what shane warne has to say about him after he placed him at the top of his rankings...
“You have to watch India in India truly to appreciate the pressure that Sachin Tendulkar is under every time he bats. Outside grounds, people wait until he goes in before paying to enter. They seem to want a wicket to fall even though it is their own side that will suffer. This is cricket as Sachin has known it since the age of 16. He grew up under incredible weight of expectation and never buckled once – not under poor umpiring decisions or anything else. I place him very slightly ahead of Lara because I found him slightly tougher mentally.”....

“Beneath the helmet, under that unruly curly hair, inside the cranium, there is something we don’t know, something beyond scientific measure. Something that allows him to soar, to roam a territory of sport that, forget us, even those who are gifted enough to play alongside him cannot even fathom. When he goes out to bat, people switch on their television sets and switch off their lives.” –BBC Sports, on Sachin Tendulkar.

goosebumps...adrenaline....and true as rain!!!
as for sehwag and sachin...you cant compare god and human....can you????
Ranking is Mostly based on averages, Eg: Avg(2+3+3) = 2.66 and Avg of (0+0+8)=2.66,who is better???i dont need to explain this average analogy rite??....so mr economists please count the financial policies...thats your job....there is much more complexities involved in game of cricket...and it increases manifolds when sachin handles his willow on ground...dont do such stupid calculations man!!!!
o sachin o sachin wherevr is thy placed on such odios lists...you will be the THE YARDSTICK of cricket for ages to come...amen!!!