All Out of Love

It is a lovely winter morning. The fog is quite dense and she looks through her window at the white expanse in love. She loves the icy touch of harsh winter. Did I say harsh? Oh yes, I forget to mention that the winter is harsh in this part of the country. She walks over to the refrigerator and pulls out a frozen quarter pizza and leaves it on the table. After a shower, she gorges on the pizza slice and some cold milk.
Her mind starts to wander at the table. All these years had passed by and she was living alone - Happily.
The wind is blowing into the room and the temperature is dipping furiously.
Where did her thoughts get off…ah! People always thought that she was far from normal. I guess she knew that herself. She was in love…with love. Her love story is a saga in itself. She muses for what seems like an hour. Then the thought of going to work strikes her and she slowly gets her bag.
The bus stop is a short walk from where she lives…her ‘home’.
A cold tune blows into her ears from all around and she absorbs it with love. She can smell love even in the cold air. After a largely uneventful walk, she reaches the bus stop and takes a seat to wait for the bus.
That’s where I come in. I, contrary to my social traditions, usually go out on cold mornings like this. In fact, I love cold mornings as much as she does. I see her from a distance and move towards her in what seems to be a trance. I move fast and close the distance between us. I love the feel of the ground below my feet and the snippy dusty air around me. I am full of love for everything around me.
She sees me when I am about one foot from her. Her expressionless face looks through me in a cold kind of way. I love that look. The look that makes my inspiration run high…the look that makes me make others love me.
She fixes her gaze on me and twitches her eyebrow as if she pities my condition. I laugh to myself, and then, as if she knows my feeling, she too laughs uncontrollably. I look around to see if other early birds are watching the two of us or not. We are alone.
Her laughter has a nice rhythm…like some code. I am entranced by her loving sight and sound. I begin to dance once again…all out of love. She looks at me in a peculiar fashion and grins. There is a strange tension in the air. It is a tension that spells love.
She moves towards me with a strange light in her eyes. I also move in her direction. Soon she touches me with her palm.
She has a soft palm and it smells of her wonderful perfume…I love the sweet smell of perfume.
There is so much love in that touch of hers. I am overflowing with love and long to share it with her. I kiss her on the back of her hand and she embraces me tightly.
The cold feeling comes back again. Its taking my breath away. She is still looking at me with that strange light.
Someday I have to ask my father about that look.
She gently falls to her knees and lies down next to me. The look is still there. I feel that there is something missing from my side and shower her with kisses. She still holds me tight in her arms…all out of love.

Dec 27. Nainital.
The dead body of Dr. Anjali Mohan, a research scholar at IPWA was found near the Horticulture Garden Bus Stop. The cause of her death has been determined to be snake bite. In what seems to be a strange tale, a dead Krait was found entangled in the grip of Dr. Mohan. This enormously poisonous snake had bitten Dr. Mohan eleven times…ten times after she died. The funeral will be conducted at 5:30 P.M. today.

Up Above to Down Under

The evening of 6th January will be remembered for more than one reason; one particularly distasteful - The transmutation of Cricket from a gentleman's game to a gentleman's game (read: hunting with a pack of wild dogs). Never, in any international match, has the umpiring been so woeful, nay, foolish. Any idiot with half a brain and one eye could see the flaws in the decisions handed out by the two 'honourable' umpires.
Australia established a few enviable records in this match. They played 13 batsmen (one particularly jumpy species batted across three lives) in their first innings and the opposition played with just 8 (two of the best batsmen went back to the pavilion on the whim of the umpires). Finally the Australian team formed a huddle and jumped around like a bunch of cross-dressers who had been given free wonder-bras. Can you see the achievement, pride, joy and ecstasy in such a victory? Wow! So, this is Aussie pride eh? Niiice!
Let’s face it, the Aussies do not have the gonadal gumption to lose. Sure, if you are winning, you need not care about anything else. You can shove aside anyone (including the President of the BCCI, in India). There'd be no media asking you uncomfortable questions, no former players calling for your head, and no bad taste in your mouth. But true champions know that losses are part of the game - bound to happen - and that when they do, they must lose gracefully. Ponting and his boys just proved how brittle their existence is. They exist only because they win. Since their crushing loss to India (underdogs) in the T20 World Cup, they have been thirsty, almost rabid for revenge. They thought they could come to India and bully the Indians in their own backyard. That did not work, and the captain of the Australian team had to accept that India was better than them at the shortest form of the game. The expression on his face, during the awards ceremony, was almost as if he were forced to drink goat piss through a fresh umbilical cord.
The Australians have always been the worst losers in cricket. They think that it is their birthright to win and that everyone else plays to kill time. If they win, it is because they played flawless cricket. If they lose, it is because the pitches were doctored, the opposition captain was late for the toss, and their bus driver’s mother-in-law had a monkey in her apron (sorry, did I just say the ‘M’ word?) They can sledge and abuse the family tree of their oppositions, but if anyone from the opposition mentions any member of the animal kingdom, their pansy derrieres get sensitive. Their aggression is always 'hard and fair' and within boundaries, but if a young Indian boy decides to mirror it, they call for the head honchos to rein in him. If you’ve still not realized what this means, my dear chaps, this is racial behaviour –

The belief that one 'racial group' is inferior to another and the practices of the dominant group to maintain the inferior position of the dominated group; often defined as a combination of power, prejudice and discrimination.

Mr. Ponting, you may think that you and your team can do anything on or off the field, and get away with it on the merit of being the best cricketing team in the world? Listen carefully, because there’s news for you - India is not pushover material and, believe me, better men than you have tried and failed. We will not take your incessant boorish and uncouth behaviour lying down. You want to be aggressive, you silly little schoolgirl, you’ve got it. Two can play this game, and judging by the goings on, that game has already begun.
Australia was the country we were proud to play, beat and get beaten by. Aggression was a good word, a word we borrowed from the Aussie dictionary. We saluted your best teams - There was honour in it. Somewhere along the line your 'aggression' turned to ‘arrogance'. Now, after you have ripped the shitty facade from your face, Mr. Ponting, the world realizes why your country is called ‘Down Under’.

Dial 'M' for Monkey

Mr. Andrew Symonds,

I belong to a country whose citizens fought and defeated the purveyors of racism. I wear anti-racism proudly on my sleeve and it pains me to hear you allege the same against my countryman. Now, I am not in a position to know exactly what transpired on the field (given that even the umpires don’t know exactly what was said there). However, I refuse to believe that Harbhajan Singh ever said anything racist against you.
Do you know the meaning of the word racism? Prejudice or discrimination based on an individual’s race – that is racism! I must tell you that ‘monkey’ is not even remotely racist (except when you are from a primate race). If, and that is a very big if (because, frankly, I don’t believe a word you say), Harbhajan called you a monkey, I don’t understand why you are so upset. It definitely is not as bad as the words you use to describe our players; not as bad as being called a ‘ba***rd’ or a 'm*********er'. Or do you think otherwise? Maybe, you don’t mind being called the latter (I cannot imagine why). Maybe you are upset about being called a monkey because you don't wish to insult the monkeys. All my life different people have called me a monkey without getting told on by me, and I don’t even look half alike - You should have no reason to complain. However, if you are so determined to be hypersensitive to being called a monkey, Mr. Symonds, tell me this:

Did your mother go to the forest or did the chimpanzee come home?

General-ly Speaking

The dynamics of the Pakistani power struggle are rather transparent, and with Benazir Bhutto’s assassination, it can be safely said that Pakistan’s internal security is on its last leg.
Our main man Mushy does not sit too pretty amongst the ruins. He is steering a country ravaged by internal strife. He is bloody incompetent as a ruler but a good part of it can be attributed to the many demons he has to face:

• The Fundamentalists: Taliban, LeT and its million minions - The reprise of this section in Pakistani society has a lot to do with America’s presence in the Middle East. Resentment against the West and its allies is on an all-time high among Pakistanis. This, coupled with drifters from Afghanistan, has made up the core of the terror bomb. Mushy, in his great wisdom, consolidated the relation that Pakistan had with America and became her strategic ally in the fight against terror. This provided the fuse to the terror bomb. It’s been ticking ever since.
  December 27th 2007 saw its first gigantic explosion – Benazir’s assassination.
  
• The United States of America – Bush and Mush always looked like a couple bound in unholy matrimony. They were living dangerously, and each had a private agenda. Yes, definitely in love! However, like every give and take relationship, this one too had its moments. Bush pushed Mushy for the entirety of their relationship, and Mushy’s constant diplomatic slavery created a huge hate club for him in his own backyard. Finally, when Mushy decided to impose the emergency, Bush came hard at him, cut down his allowance and made his remove his uniform.
  
• The Judiciary – Chief Justice Chowdhury and his affairs hung like the sword of Damocles over Mushy’s head. The manner in which the Justice was kept under house arrest and dismissed from service was, at best, appalling. However, the matter could not be swept under the carpet and Pakistan’s legal community cried foul in the foulest language. The Justice was reinstated and Mushy was forced to eat his own shoe! Matters reached such an extent that he stated, “That the Chief Justice was reinstated is an example of my impartial rule.” Can things get more ludicrous?
  
• The Politicians – Benazir and Sharif were watching their turf closely while Mushy was being sieged by the judiciary. They took this opportunity to emphasize their vision of Pakistan and hit out at him and his ‘dictatorship’. Mushy sensed that the momentum was with them. Admitted that they were corrupt and vengeful; but for the people, they ‘looked’ like the lesser evil. The extent of his loathing of Sharif can be seen from the airport incident when Sharif attempted to arrive in Pakistan amidst a lot of fanfare.
  
• The Military – Strange is the relationship that a military ruler shares with the army. Every army is corrupt, and an army in power, more so. The Pakistan army has probably never had it so good - Their chief in power, millions of greenbacks to fund their perverted schemes, unlimited power in the border areas and their very own nuclear playground. Now, it is obvious that any kid who knows how to make his parents buy him what he wants will not stop at the little red car. One day, he’ll get his Ferrari. The Pakistan army is similar. They have tasted power for long and will not want to give it up at any cost – Not to the fundamentalists or to the politicians. They have expectations from Mushy and expect that he live up to it. Mushy knows from his history lessons that the Pakistan army does not mind cannibalizing, and that it could be his head if he made a false move.
  
• The ISI – Probably the most vilified intelligence agency in the world (except the CIA!), it is a cousin to both the army and the fundamentalists. These chaps have their own agenda and are committed to derail any kind of peace between Pakistan and India. Therefore, it is in their best interests that Pakistan continues in a state of anarchy. Mushy knows that these guys are perfectly capable of trussing him up like a turkey if he does not take a hard-line stance against India. The ISI went ahead and rigged elections to see Mushy sit pretty in the highest seat of power so that they can do what they want. They’ll damn well want their pound of flesh in time.