Thursday, September 19, 2019

Don't Give Love A Bad Name

A few days back, my eight-year old son thrust his i-pod and head-phones and said, “Dada, listen; I think you will remove some songs from this.” When I asked him what was wrong, he insisted that I listen to understand. I listened. Wow! It was then that I realized... recently, my boy has been trying to learn and understand the different genres in music and to differentiate between the pops from the rocks, heavy metals from death metals, country from reggae, folk from rap and so on... he has been at it and has been engrossed exploring any music he can find, categorizing them, memorizing the lyrics and attempting to ape them in his guitar. Then there it was, the few songs he was doubtful about... Eminem, 50 cents, Slick Rick and others rapping and shouting out loud words like “FCuk”, “Sex”, “Sh1t” etc.,. What surprised me were not those words yet that my son had understood what they meant.
It would be easy for a crowd to blame it on the fault of the uncensored media or even the open and unrestricted availability of content or even at parents like me who leave children unattended in the name of giving them “the space”. Yet, trust me, no child is going to be ignorant for long and every child is going to grow up to understand the meaning of these and many such words that will make them parents one day.
Today, when my son stands with the guts that it takes to stand square and declare to me, ‘Hey Dad, these are words that I understand, what are you going to do about it?’ I can like any common sacrosanct, self-righteous, hypocritical scoundrel either tell him that those are “dirty” words and that he must have nothing to do with it and create an image of disgust and make him feel guilty and ashamed of anything having to do with procreation and successfully accomplish making him a hypocritical scoundrel as well OR as I decided to do, hand over the music device and coolly tell him that now that he knew what those words meant I trust that he would know why and when he should or shouldn’t be using them and that I would not be deleting them and it was up to him to decide whether he wants to listen or not listen to those songs. His eye widened with surprise, as that was definitely not what he expected to hear and he whistled a song and walked away a little older. Kids will be kids and I am so glad my son and I had this little conversation.
Is sex such a dirty thing that we end up making everyone feel so guilty about it? 

Thursday, August 1, 2019

The Idea Of Plenty

Fear of fear gives courage. 
As we age, we encounter many things, people and situations that come with it no matter how far we try to avoid any of these that affect us.
One of man’s deadliest fears is to have to die alone. Death is a stunner at the end of a platform called life that keeps moving no matter how much you try to avoid. When it is time to go, it is time to go yet the things we do and the length we go to retain a few around us!
And in between this error called life, where we get to meet these strange people no matter how much we try to avoid, we end up facing, craving and fighting over those worthless things we claim to adore and land in situations that don’t appeal a bit just so that we build this pseudo-reality to pedal consumerism - in both the material and immaterial worlds we create around us, not sparing relationships too caught in between. Then there are these things called fate, luck, blessings, curses and the rest of such uncertainties that we feel runs and ruins us to which we grant all acclaim with such certainty.
Those necessities and these unnecessities of life of which people talk about endlessly! Often people talk a lot about what they lack rather than what they do have. People generally are silent when they are full; it is of course the empty vessels that make the loudest noise when they move. There is a person I meet at the gym who talks in length and lavishly exaggerates about the quantity and quality of food - detailing everything right from its preparation to its consumption; quite sadly, food both in quantity and quality is what this poor bloke rarely gets yet craves for.
Age too is a merciless shadow that never departs until our body remains. A thing that I realize these days is that as one ages, s/he feels that age is a defense for them to get away with anything they speak or do – even things that may be considered cheap, boring and/or offensive otherwise. Aging not only makes one cranky yet also becomes an excuse for being cranky which makes them understandably, acceptably and comfortably cranky often for no reason whatsoever. Perhaps as anger is a luxury that only the rich can afford, crankiness is a state of mind only the elderly can claim and retain.
Amidst all these worthless pursuits and endless circuits, while wishing to find some meaning and purpose in life, the search only seems to end gloriously in gaining nothing at the end of it.
“Nothing”?! Then what about all the inventions and discoveries that we glorify? Those pages and pages we write, read and sing, those countless thoughts and memories we try to collect and store and those relationships we try to gather and treasure – would they become ‘nothing’ in an instant? What about those images we treasure (?) those poems and paintings we imagine and that prose and photo we capture with delight? How about those boring, endless talks with those parasitic people and the boredom that follows that we manage to conceal with our fake smiles and unwilling nods – wishing they would stop as you begin to realize that they have just begun. What about all those occasions when we could have lifted the Oscar with our ability to act to convince that others matter when deep inside, both kith and kin, they don’t matter at all? The truth that we seek, when everything we see, hear or feel is just a comforting lie that tries to make us feel that everything around us is eternal and everyone immortal while “I” of all the fakes around, agree too, faking with all my might as I should for making the idea of plenty a comforting thought for all to believe. If a prize or an award be given for the biggest fake of all, first in line shall I be as I fold all my fingers but one and pray that all of us deserve to ‘go forth and multiply’ as the good God wanted us to. 
Cowards live when they fear death.      

Monday, June 24, 2019

Holy Frauds

Have you watched colleges and universities getting slammed recently?
It all started with a question, "How can the degrees offered to students be valid if the syllabus they study is being prepared by ineligible teachers at the time of appointment (those who have not cleared NET or SET nor have a PhD before 2009 as the policies demand), the syllabus is later unapproved by the University while the same ineligible teachers go on to teach the same unapproved syllabus, who go further on to set questions and evaluate the papers... how on Earth can the degrees of the students coming through such an institution even desire to deserve an University degree... why must Universities consider it obligatory to provide a degree after so much of violations?" 
Now the Departments and Ministry in charge for higher education have taken note of these incidents and are taking stringent steps to curtail this loophole in appointments especially seen in autonomous institutions and some frivolous educational institutions functioning on mountain tops basking for cover to be protected as 'minority' institutions as soon as they come under the radar for their scrupulous attempt to commit as many academic and financial violations and frauds as possible that are recently being exposed and uncovered. The media too, is clever, closely watching and reporting these issues. State departments in charge of higher (collegiate) education, are taking measures to snip these snakes which have escaped the snare so far. 
Recently while talking to a Vice Chancellor who addressed a bunch of catholic priests, said during the address that it was time that the priests stop educating students after appointing their kith and kin and fellows who bend their backs in their parish in the name of some fantasy quota or the other and it was time for the priests to get re-educated about the changing world around them and learn that they are obligated to follow policies of higher education in the country. This VC, I told, hit the nail right and proper in the head by passing this message to a crowd that needed it the most, since most of the educational institutions still operating and still committing these unmentionable frauds in India are sadly the so-called "Christian" institutions; to which he mentioned that now he has the priests fuming at him rather than accept the case and learn their lesson. 
It is not often unheard of about some colleges run merely for the heck of collecting fees and fines - swindling students and parents without missing an opportunity, colleges that run that provide marks in exchange for 'little favours' expected from students without assessments - just because these institutions now have exams under their control in the name of autonomy, appointment of ineligible teachers, running of bogus Research Centers ordered to be closed long ago still functioning with ineligible guides, stealing government grants given to researchers and to teachers undertaking research, stealing public money in the name of organizing programs that never are organized, approving and facilitating plagiarism to just create an illusion of carrying on academic undertakings and countless other cheap tricks that seem to come off the hat of only these kinds - and would you believe that all these can happen in just one educational institution supposedly run by Christian priests? Perhaps it wouldn't be that hard to believe this since these kinds have been exposed quite frequently and are in the NEWS quite often for rape, child abuse, murder and everything that can deemed fit to keep a third-rated criminal in confinement and far away from society. 
It is time to teach. Teach lessons often unheard. Time to teach a few lessons to these fellows I suppose. And I am at it.

Related NEWS:

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Commissioner Asks Management To Pay Up Or Face The Consequence

You wait and you wait for people to understand, to reason and do the right thing. Yet, when there are kinds that pretend to never understand, would prefer to s(t)ink in their lies and think that the world is their's to fool, need to be shaken a bit to help them awake and smell the coffee. Recently one such shaking took place and an institution woke up and justice was rendered with regard to paying all its employees their PF along with their long pending dues. Thanks to the immediate action of the Government Officials in India who gave a taste of what is right which seemed unknown to the bourgeois. (Copy of mail sent on the right)

The mail sent by the Government Official subtly hinted that the manager of this particular institution had resorted to shameless lying by mentioning that his reply was 'not genuine' and rubbished his defense and further gave an ultimatum by issuing a warning about the consequence of this stance. As we await action yet to be initiated by this bourgeois despite the clarity provided by the Government before moving the next plea, we wonder if anything has changed about them at all since Jesus, who seems to have known these guys too well, had said (even) during His days - 'they say something yet do something else... They pile heavy burdens on people’s shoulders and won’t lift a finger to help. Everything they do is just to show off in front of others. They even make a big show of wearing Scripture verses on their foreheads and arms, and they wear big tassels for everyone to see. They love the best seats at banquets and the front seats in the meeting places...' (excerpts from Matt. 23, The Bible) 

At times, some people think that they wear magic cloaks that people would automatically revere as soon as they see and don't have to live what they preach to earn the respect they demand - not true. At times someone will rise up and question why the king is nude. Shame on these guys; shame every time they get exposed... and this time with evidence. Many more happy returns of the day as more expose are coming your way.  

Thursday, April 4, 2019

You Can Call For Help

If there is anyone who is having difficulty at work, dealing with bad bosses and/or the management, being harassed, abused, feeling unprotected, drawing a pay less than the minimum pay advised by the Government, wrongly targeted and victimized perhaps because you opposed or brought some illegal practices of the organization to light and suddenly you feel alone ever since you started to fight back instead of submitting to the oppression and suddenly at some point of time, you feel stuck and you need help and want to just talk to someone about what to do, do write in, been there and having done that, will do the best I can to help you out. You can email providing me a brief idea of these labour issues here: Wish and pray these don't happen; yet if it does, do write in. There is a solution for everything; we will figure it out together. Unity is strength, unity is power.

Saturday, March 30, 2019

The Snake Catcher

"An Indian former Roman Catholic priest has been sentenced to six years in prison for sexually abusing a teenage girl in the US. The sentencing came after the Catholic priest pleaded guilty to one count of having sexual contact with a child under the age of 16, a crime that carries a maximum 15-year punishment." read a NEWS report today. (Source:

Hallelujah! to all the Catholic priests. Incidentally I was also looking for a 'long-reach catcher' a.k.a 'snake catcher' - a long length device that helps you nab those pesky, slithering reptiles if you spot one (like the one in the picture). Gives you a chance to catch it and later torture it as you please slowly without giving it the chance of an instant death otherwise.
Think this sort of tool must be supplied to all judges who have started to boldly deliver the deterrents (to a certain level) to Catholic priests lately whose pass time seems to be abusing people - one way or the other. Wish I could send a long-reach catcher to the Pope in the Vatican; the problem was I could not find one for now that was long enough to reach Kerala from there; 'God's own country', where some of these devils slither - as we get to see recently - engaged in this form of abuse and worse. 

Check these NEWS Headlines for instance: Bishop Arrested For Allegedly Raping Kerala Nun Stood Smiling In Court (Source:, Second Priest Arrested In Kerala Rape Case, 2 Others Still On The Run (Source:, Kerala Priest, 65, Allegedly Sexually Assaulted 10-Year-Old Inside Church (Source:, Kerala Catholic Priest, Accused Of Raping 17-Year-Old, Arrested (Source:, Christian Priest Arrested For Alleged Sexual Assault Of 2 Minor Boys (Source:, Priest arrested, charged with rape in Kerala after teen delivers child (Source:, Kerala Priest Arrested For Alleged Sexual Abuse, Murder (Source:
These sort of stories are long and can go on and on as incidents like these that get reported and many more like these, just like their victims, that go unreported, silenced and crushed; that would be exhausting and not something perhaps that will find space enough to fit into this blog or more. So let me stop here for now.

How to spot these elements becomes the big question. Simple. Just stay away from anyone wearing a skin that comes off which they change more often - much like a cassock. Just as cassocks come in different colours - some white, some off-white and some in the dirtiest brown - the snakeskin too come in different colours. The dirtier the colour, the deadlier the poison of the breed I suppose as it finds yet another coincidence - this like that and the other. Easy peasy to spot.
Had I known this earlier, would have shooed off a few from entering my door-step instead of letting them in earlier and having to do the cleaning now.
These snakes are quite cleverly deadly and sync well in communion too. They come from different places, gather in one place to breed and later spread around and wait for others to enter the traps they set - sometimes in Churches, at times hospitals and as I recently realized, even within educational institutions - their favourite grounds to flourish. These are the places where often people enter - vulnerable, unsuspecting and dazed and the snakes seem to know this too well that they just lie there pretending to be engaged in their ritualistic duties quite religiously and pray until their prey enters their line of attack and when the time seems right, they get down to do what they have been waiting to do with remorseless, guiltless and pointless ease when their skin comes off and they reveal their true self. Such perverted beings these. Sex is just one form of perversion that these kinds engage in right from the beginning if you understand that attempting celibacy is one of the strangest form of sexual perversion - a mental disorder that falls outside the normalcy curve.
These strange kinds, have not left the other four forms of abuse untouched as well as they engage quite freely and unquestioned in emotional, mental and physical abuses while also neglecting the principles, values and the basic duties of their vocation as they mark, tear and scar human souls as they injure individuals, families and communities at a whole new level on a very large scale - consciously and deliberately - slowly, yet strategically and systematically.
Is it because the Vatican is too far away that they feel shielded by the distance or the closeness of their promoting leaders nearby? Is it the undue power they possess and the irrelevant respect we give these undeserving creatures? Is it because we sometimes get carried away by the irrelevant stories of a great past they carry as messiahs of grace and selflessness often used as their defence as a validation to justify their avaricious presence in the present? Or is it simply because we keep feeding these deadly snakes knowingly and at times unknowingly?
Perhaps the mistake is ours - mine and yours. It is time, high time, perhaps even late, to stop feeding these snakes and for all of us to go and buy this long-reach and keep these slithering reptiles away at bay. Prevention is better than cure. Stay safe.

Wednesday, March 13, 2019

The Ghost In The Mirror

The whole world seems busy these days... Kerala had a few Temple issues - wanted the treasury of one to stay closed quoting some coiling divine serpent that is there protecting it while some wanted the doors in another to open a little wider for women to enter; Tamil Nadu had its share of sex scandals - one where a singer 'me-too'ed' a lyricist and got crushed for doing that and later a Pollachi abuse issue that got politicized eventually. With the elections around the corner, parties are busy trying to solicit one another to form united alliances of utter confusion and as we go higher, we have people from the winged force flying unused rusty jets into politics-created war zones, getting shot to demonstrate the need to replace our fighting planes with a few new ones that are currently stuck underneath a s(c)(h)ammed deal and for the NEWS too, as we, the distracted, detracted nationalists, hail the pilot whose plane got gunned-down, returning without even a piece of that ejected seat. This to me, is so unfair. 
This last particular event especially, took me through a memory lane. A long time ago I rode my bicycle up a post and crashed it into another compound and my Dad I must say, was not particularly pleased with what I did to the cycle more than what had happened to me after the crash and I remember getting whipped as well for wrecking our neighbour's compound with my cycle. Today while reading about this guy who crashed a MIG purchased with my Dad's money (well, he pays his income tax you see, which must have gone into purchasing at least a of the tail wing of the jet) into enemy territory and on the contrary, getting hailed for doing that it seems so unfair that the way we look at things have changed in the last couple of decades since I crashed my cycle into my neighbour's wall. At least I came back with all the scrap metal I managed to find when I crashed; and this guy just returned empty-handed (he did not even bring back his ejected seat!) with nothing more than a gun-sling moustache intact and I got busted while this guy gets hoisted... Duh! How fair is life?
Talking about 'fairness', we are all only as good as the world allows us to be I suppose. Little do I believe anymore that everyone has a destiny and if anything that happens, happens only for a reason. Everything that happens, opens only opportunities for other things to happen as I get to see these days. It is left to us to see those opportunities, use it or let it go. You cannot just shoot down a flying opportunity like you can shoot down a fighter jet using automatic guns and radars. 
In life, opportunities come, opportunities go... and it flies off if you don't seize it. 
The problem with opportunities is that we at times, mistake, misinterpret and misplace opportunities. During a recent episode, quite sadly I saw some people I 'ass'umed (yeah, made an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me') were friends and my close circle, turn into opportunists who decided to break trust and good faith to keep themselves safe and secure. While most cut off and remained at dignified distance in absolute silence, some did harness the courage to come to me and declare that they were cowards left with no choice. Fool I must be to trust those words. Well they did have choice. Everyone has a choice... even the a-hole who does not make a choice, does have a choice to not make a choice at the end of the day. However life is such and such is life. Beaten yet not fallen, bruised yet not hurt, shot yet not hunted... just like the fellow whose jet got shot who is a national treasure now.   
Yet trust me, every choice has its consequence, even if it seems like only a shadow that you can ignore with a shrug today, it will hover someday like a dark nightmare that will wake you up screaming. Everything we do will make us think - if not today, someday and I will wait in the darkness for that day to come, to flash a mirror right at the faces of people who don't get to see themselves today and let them see clearly who they really are or capable to be. Today I cannot speak anything about this and if I do, it will be like an idiot trying to sell mirrors to the blind on a moonless night. Values I try to speak of, have already been exchanged for promised treasures and instant pleasures. Let me not disturb those who find these short-term reliefs comforting. Let me not disturb any of those. Trying to make people see through these, at this time, will be like standing in the middle of a whore-house in full swing and preaching about sin. Today, the noise around is too loud and their eyes are fixed at a mirage of permanency and they will never see nor hear whether I yell or shout. Everything for a while and life echoes... ces't la vie. 
Every passing day does not take us into the future; rather it takes us to the past where we leave an unpicked piece that must be gathered to solve a puzzle we are stuck with in the present. A day will come when many will return to search for the missing piece and when that day dawns I will be right here waiting; with a mirror in my hand, to roll my gun-sling moustache and to laugh as they try to recognize their worthless faces.  
Until then, let them shame Sodom and Gomorrah with their ways and make their fathers proud. Go forth and multiply as you please.  

Thursday, March 7, 2019

Dracula In A Farm - New Short Story

Recently I went to a farm and on the way I saw many rules and regulations posted on the walls that were laid to protect humans - they told - the driver added that these were what they called the 'constitution' around. They also said that if anyone breaks these laws or even dares to say that they don't apply to someone, they could be taken to task till justice was restored. Trusting all that I entered the farm. 
The farm was filled with animals, some good, some bad yet everyone crooked. This was their way of saving themselves I realized later... after all it is the straight tree that gets the axe in a jungle, isn't it?
Everyone lived in fear of one another in this farm, knowing that eventually they would all be dipped, fried or toasted and burnt in the chef's kitchen. By the by, the chefs here were strange people too, who cooked to please the few who threw them the money; they dressed funny too - perhaps to do evil, anyone must start to think they are different from others and the first things to show that is to dress differently I suppose - terrorists, military, priests, criminals and chefs too - some in white and the dirtier they were the browner their clothe got here too. There was this one particular chef who wore the dirtiest brown, as dirty as his dirty rotten ever-rotting mind I suppose. He never knew of the boards hanging outside that farm, perhaps he never knew to read or write and probably got to this point buttering, polishing, and God-knows-what he did do. 
One day, the dirty chef, grew jealous of one rascal who cared a rat's-arse about the weight he was trying to throw at everyone that seemed to have no effect on him. The dirty chef tried to reduce this rascal's dignity several times too... and still made no dent. Seemed like this rascal cared a damn about the dirty brown chef's pretentious presence which annoyed the dirty chef even more. The chef in brown played his last card and decided to get rid of the bothersome rascal who he felt was questioning his authority by now. He made a crooked plan with a few of his other crooked friends.  
The unassuming rascal's end was charted and the drama started. The chef was the director and every other animal in the farm decided to play their parts while the other chefs in white sat still as his audience as some played along to fit into carefully orchestrated roles the dirty chef had scripted for them. The music began, the clowns in white robes danced merrily as the rascal was dragged and ragged and got ripped and torn. They even brought a black-robed friend who lived on a hilltop nearby who knew the constitution by heart (he said) to mock the very constitution he claimed to protect. He too played his role at the chef's demand. The chief chef meanwhile, closed his eyes as if in some deep spiritual realm and pretended to sleep, allowing every other nonsense to happen in the farm. He probably finally took the oscar I think. 
The farm exemplified as the farm of the crooked, wicked and sick. The sicker they were, the more wicked they became and the more wicked they were, the more crooked they became. With every slice on the rascal's body, the merrier they got feeding on the dying soul. The climax reached its finale as the chef in brown licked the dripping blood from the rascal's body... twisting his cunning smile with a ripple that reached his meddling eyes as the chefs - white and brown, and every dirty old clown - came together once more, holding hands to dance around the pyre, while the farm animals scattered and hid and feared some more and decided to obey and to please their demanding masters and never to even think about standing straight - evermore. 

Thus came to rest the rascal's soul as it soared, 
wounded and torn as it detoured. 
Past the farm and through the roads, 
as the clamping boards chimed some more, 
rattling a praise to a constitution 
that only hung on boards.   

Thursday, January 31, 2019

Elephant Hunters

Recently I was going through an old hunting video from the jungles of Africa... it showed some white folks going on elephant hunting (more of an elephant trapping) - African elephants - with the help of the native Africans. As usual all I could see was how people can be bought in their own land and made to betray their own - humans, flora and fauna included - ever since a very long time.
How are man and woman made to turn against each other just for the petty playful relief of someone who sees them as nothing more than puppets to play their games with? Why does man submit to such authority? Does no one have an iota of self-respect at the end of the day?
Needless to say, these are in line with some thoughts that occur to me these days with a few issues I am facing and some people I get to see around - those that try to throw their pseudo-authority around (in vain) and those whose spineless backs I get to see as they run far, far away to save their butts. Sad humans I must say - both.
Should I lift a mirror and show them their faces or let it remain as contourless as they please? Should I be amazed at their complacence or admire their tactics for survival? Perhaps they too are like these Elephant Hunters capable of betraying their own for the tiny bits of morsels thrown at them by their masters - all that matters at the end of the day for them.
Isn't life a little bit more than that? As the old African quote goes, "In the Jungles of Africa, until the lion tells his side of the story, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter...". Until then sleep Africa, sleep, sleep all you can if you really can sleep...