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Monday, April 6, 2015
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
A letter from Susi Tarur to Paki Tarar
Dear Tarar,
While I am writing this
letter my heart is bleeding. From nariyal ka pani to lupus to tweets of a morning
bird, everything scares me. There is
TV-phobia because of mike-holding devils running after me and there is twitter
phobia as well. As you know I used to find happiness interacting with the
cattle class every single minute. Call it a fatal fall of a born-tweeter, today,
I am a tweet-free man. (They say
discretion is better than valour)
Jab we met, the first thing you told me was that
I have a huge heart. Though my heart is big enough to accommodate as many as
beautiful people, Miss Pashkaar’s entry was like a googly. And I was clean bowled. Like a 20-20 match, everything ended in
a fast spell. I was the media’s darling when I landed in Delhi to try a khadi
kurta for the first time in my life. All said it looked nice on my handsome
body. There was some itching though, and those who have been wearing it for
decades without even washing, told me, “You will make it big in politics if you
turn a blind eye towards all kinds of itching, mudslinging and horse-riding.” Huh! Whenever the political itching was
unbearable, I flew to Dubai.
You remember the sunny
morning when we found an ant drowning in my coffee cup. How much time I stole
from you to save the poor ant’s life! “Susi darling, you can’t even kill an ant,”
you pecked me on my cheek. And now these
media moguls bark at me: “Murderer”. If
wife dies, they say catch the husband. When will they start believing poor
husbands of dead wives? Country fellows…When
will they start believe the existence of coconut theories? You know, I get
nightmares of people offering me coconut water even in bars. My constituency is
full of coconuts and I got a chance to visit there during the election. Country
Mallus, they wanted development, drinking water, blablabla…I gifted them a
cricket team. Still they call me ‘imported Delhi Nair’. Media say I am an agent
of ugly looking Dawood Ibrahim. Only you know I hate men wearing cooling glasses
and holding guns.
I should blame the fatso
businessman for dragging me into this IPL muck. I did play not a single stroke,
but everybody starting throwing yorkers at me. A marriage of convenience, they
say. But Pashkaar lady was such a love! We visited this temple, that temple, this Guruji, that Guruji and many
desi English-speaking business morons… And
honestly, I couldn’t breathe a moment ever after. What a haunting end to a love saga! . A poisoned FIR, unending question hours and
media trial…
The bugging man of
all, Subbu Swamy knows everything. Given a chance, I will deport him to Siberia;
damn sure the mommyji and her papuji (no pun intended! Sigh…) will pat me on
the back. Ouch...My back hurts.
Now, this is a secret.
To wade through all this bad phase, I went to a saffron swamiji. After taking
the vibhuthi and chanting NaMo mantra, you don’t believe what happened! A broom appeared from nowhere, and I was told
to keep cleaning. My party spies---they know nothing---allege that this was Moditva.
I swear I do not know what it is.
Muck still stops here. I am fed up. When I went to UN, they
said I was meant for big. When I came to politics, they said I am meant for
something else. Each wife told me I have only the lover boy material. Since
this world is not grown enough to encompass a person of my stature, I am
contemplating shifting to Mars. Sorry
Tarar, Mom entertains no Pak collaboration. My mission is to find some
inter-stellar love there.
Goodbye.
With Love
Susi Tarur
(Characters may appear
real, but it’s not my fault. An invisible hand helped me decode these secrets)
(Photo for representation purpose only)
Thursday, January 15, 2015
‘I peeled many onions to see God, but I found Him in my tears’
He was dark and
masculine. Having his favourite God Murugan’s tattoo imprinted on his chest, he
had certain godly charm, but uncertainty writ large on his wide face. He wanted
a job. He left his home in a non-descript village at Kadayanallur in Tenkasi
and wanted to return making some moolah in God’s Own Country where the desi
youths had some kind of allergy for menial jobs.
Life took a dramatic
tu
rn soon after he started working at Muslim landlord Pichemuthaliyar’s hotel. His
daughter fell in love with him and soon he was thrown out of job. He was made
to flee from village to village with his Muslim wife. Twenty-three years passed by; Ramalingam and
his three-member family are now following Christianity. More than a religious
decision, it was a choice of getting the much-needed protection and a job.
As Joseph alias
Ramalingam bows down to pray Jesus, with Murugan’s tattoo still on his body, I
was curious to know what’s his take on Ghar Vapasi (Home Coming). “I peeled
many onions to see God, but I found Him in my tears.”
The lesson: It’s not varied
religions but his struggles that helped him find God. For him, life was not just about faith but
surviving each day.
Who’s coming home?
The term Ghar Vapasi should have evoked
poignant memories of good old days or nostalgia in everyone’s mind instead of hatred and divisiveness. Is
conversion and reconversion an individual’s choice or their political and
social aspects making it more a public issue? Is there any genuine reason for predatory
(missionary) religions supporting conversion and opposing one’s reclamation of
old religious beliefs? Is a debate on conversion and reversion is uncalled for
or can we find a win-win situation for all by introducing a law?
This vexed topic is a
double-edged sword for common man. One
cannot deny the fact that Semitic religions thrived on conversions. Muslim
rulers promoted their faith and converted lakhs of people while the British did
the same offering goodies and some sort of identity to the underprivileged in a
caste-hierarchical society.
We have come a long way; but aren’t we still
peeling the onions? Though science and modern thinking bloomed, religious
supremacy failed to fade. Can the state have a say on individuals’ choice of
changing or sticking to their religious faith? Who can stop somebody moving from
one place to another in a global village? The reasons could be personal,
financial or religious.
NB: There is reaction
for any action; both conversion and reconversion can stay, provided there is
consensus. Let there be a law to allow
people to practice many faiths at a time and find their god or allow them to change
it if they want. Let others live without any religion and in peace.
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