The Brethren of Dolts

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/4985370.stm

Excerpts from the article:

"Roman Catholics in the Indian city of Mumbai (Bombay) have received Muslim support in protests against the release of the movie, The Da Vinci Code."

"An umbrella organisation of Islamic clerics in Mumbai have labelled the film as "blasphemous" because it spreads "lies" about Jesus Christ. One Roman Catholic activist has gone on what he says is a "hunger strike until death" unless the film is banned. "

Maulana Mansoor Ali Khan, general secretary of the All-India Sunni Jamiyat-ul-Ulema, said "The Holy Koran recognises Jesus as a prophet. What the book says is an insult to both Christians and Muslims," and "Muslims in India will help their Christian brothers protest this attack on our common religious belief".
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Great.

What did we need more than individual idiots to deal with? Morons of the world unite! A Brethren Of Dolts (hereon will be referenced as BOD). I could name several acquaintances who would merit an induction. No test required. "Can you breathe? Ok. Is your framework of knowledge built on dumbfounding principles of a generally retarded nature - great! you're hired"

Does the concept of "Fiction" completely escape these people? "...an insult to both Christans and Muslims"? It's called a s-t-o-r-y morons... You know what a story is right? Well here's an example... Once upon a time, in land far far away and naked man and a naked woman frolicked in a Golden Garden. Subsequently, they were tricked by a reptile into eating an apple and...

Oh no, I'm sorry... thats not a story... that really happened. right right... (yo... puff and pass man...)

Honestly, what is their purpose on this planet? Why do these morons come out of the wood-work in these times? They rank up there with the "lets establish Prohibition in India" folks.

Give me your addresses. NOW! Arrrrrggghhh! I just... (sigh)... want to grab you by the shoulders and... grrr.... *shake* you... yelling "what!...is!... your... major malfunction!!!???"

The unfortunate thing is none of them will have access to this blog. I bet the Internet is a sin right? As is knowledge? Thats right - according to the book(s) that you take so literally and hold so close to your heart - 'knowledge' was the forbidden fruit. The root cause for mortal sin. Hmm... interesting. So that would mean - *learning* about your religion as a child was sinful... SINNER! Wait wait wait... that means that preaching (as per above and in so many other ways) and thus propelling/spreading the word of God (whatever f-ed up version you hold true) and perpetuating *understanding* (an off-shoot of knowledge) should be a PRIMAL sin no? It's only logical. But wait! Logic must be a fucking sin too. How can you do all of the above and leave out logic? How can these people miss that one? Well, at least you're *saved* on that count - since logic is clearly a characteristic beyond your stunted capacity.

Behold! - the saviors of mankind have revealed themselves! No seriously guys, thanks for your concern and attempted censorship/ban and everything... but you know what? I'll take the rough sex, drugs and Da Vinci Code.

No no... (sarcasm) the censorship of this movie is most definitely worth going on a hunger-strike for. Please do... and rid this world of your stupidity. These are the things that you can check against your list of positive contributions to this planet. Without doubt, you will be recognized in the present and remembered in the future for this stupidity of biblical proportions.

Pun-fucking-intended...

*frustration is evidently rampant*

The Goa Chronicles: Mausam

Chronicle – “a usually continuous historical account of events arranged in order of time without analysis or interpretation.” Of course, some of my chronicles will include opinions so forgive the deviation at times. My chronicles are an attempt to capture (to the best of my memory) events occurring on a travel experience. The first of these (hopefully many) posts relates to my recent travel to Goa, India.

Brief Intro: Goa is located on the west coast of India, in the region known as the Konkan, and is bounded by the state of Maharashtra to the north and Karnataka to the east and south. The Arabian Sea bounds it to the west. Panaji is the state's capital, and Vasco-da-Gama (Vasco) its largest town. Portuguese merchants first landed in Goa in the 15th century, but colonised it soon after. The Portuguese colony existed for about 450 years, until it was annexed by India in 1961. Internationally renowned for its beaches, Goa is visited by hundreds of thousands of foreign and domestic tourists each year, and has become one of the most popular holiday destinations for European travellers.
December 30th, 2005: It was around 1 am in the morning. Joy and I had been walking along the beach sharing a bottle of Old Monk, laughing at the locals dancing in their kachhaas . Before we knew it the bottle was done and we were devastatingly sloshed. Now, between Calingut and Bagha, there was a short stretch where there were no Shacks to light the beach. The sky, though littered with stars and a big bright moon, was not enough to provide the light we needed to navigate effectively so we followed the foam of the sea toward Calingut.

As we dawdled toward our hopeful destination, in a drunken haze, I noticed a girl walking about 40 feet ahead of us. She was in shorts and had a shawl wrapped around herself, no doubt to shield herself from the increasingly chilly night. I nudged Joy (who was barely able to keep his eyes open) and pointed out this lonesome girl to him. As expected, he turned to me and a familiar mischievous smile came across our faces. With inflated chests and longer strides we moved quickly through the sand. Completely drunk and severely lacking female companionship played an important role in our motivation here.

Before we knew it we had caught up to her. Our girlish, impish giggles were more than a give-away and she turned to face us. Wait a minute. No no. This can't be.

She... was a HE!

That’s right ladies and gentlemen, imagine my surprise when the girl who's face had run through our minds several times over was a dude's ugly mug! Our dreams of a midnight romance with a girl strolling the beaches of goa... smashed. But this wasn't going to damper our spirits! No! We weren't about to pass up the opportunity successfully harass a transvestite. So we spoke. Well, Joy spoke. I was still a little upset at the disappointment.

Joy: Hi!

It: Hiiii…

Joy: So umm…whatcha doin?

It: Just walking on the beach – how about you guys?

Joy: Oh… we’re just looking for some action… whats your name?

It: Oh… I’m Mausam.

Joy: Mausam?... ok… (pointing at me) this is Barsaat and I’m Roshni.

(nice...)

It: (smiles) – nice to meet you.

Suddenly, Joy leaps toward me, hugs me and turns us away from “it”. In a fraction of a second his palm is on my face and he’s kissing the back of his hand. So to poor Mausam it looks like we’re makin’ out on the beach. Meanwhile, I’m like – what the fuck?

Note: It is important to keep in mind that we are severely wasted here.

Joy uses his other hand to grab Mausam and pull “it” closer… and I’m starting to get a little worried here. I’ve got a brown-haired dude on me and a transvestite approaching nearer. Never thought I’d say that. At this point Joy pulls away and starts yelling:

“YOU LOVE MAUSAM! I KNOW IT! YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE!!!” and then... he’s gone.

Nice… thanks a lot Joy. He races off into the darkness and has vanished in a matter of a few seconds. I’m too bewildered to move at this point until I realize that not only am I standing alone in the dark with this transvestite but “it” has moved uncomfortably close to me. With a nervous laugh I call out in vain “umm… Joy?”… no response. Great.

This is one of those moments that you prepare for with ‘think fast’ games in high-school. I am rarely faced with these situations where am forced to react physically and mentally in a fraction of a second. Mausam reaches and grabs my package. WHAT THE FUCK!?

SMACK!

I slap Mausam as hard as I can and “it” falls to the floor helpless and sobbing. I’m looking around desperately unsure of what to do next. Now Mausam, sniffling, tries to stand up and is on its knees when Joytan comes running back. (sigh)

Cut to Joytan’s view: Aman Bahel standing on the beach with a transvestite in front of him on its knees… precariously close to him. No one else is around.

Joy stopped dead in his tracks – looking at me shocked. “NOOO!” he yells and runs over…

SMACK!.... and Mausam hits the ground... again.

Now Joytan is pushing me “what the fuck are you doing you sick bastard?... what’s wrong with you!?”. Now, I haven’t realized what Joy saw and perceived but I’m taking a lot of pushes here.

Suddenly there are voices in the distance.

Joy and I take one look at each other and we’re off. We ran for about ten minutes as fast as we could and with no clue of direction – completely unable to comprehend what has just transpired. Tired, drunk and confused we fall to the sand and sit idly – staring at the Sea trying to catch our breath. No words are spoken here. No words are appropriate. After about five minutes, we find flashlights in our eyes and two bamboo sticks nudging us from behind. Cops. But that’s an unrelated story for another time.

I think back and I suppose I feel sorry for Mausam. But in the end, having this story to tell made it all worthwhile. Yeah yeah... it'll live.

Envisage

Sheets wrinkled from last night's sweat,
Stains of a fine Merlot, I cannot rid my shirt of
She lies still in my bed wrapped in those sheets
How can emptiness fill something till it bursts?
Yes, I composed poems with twisted clichés
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as are Vanity and Jealousy
I bear these sins, and wish to though cannot leave.
There are many petals on this rose
and spots on its stem where thorns once stood
But I needn't carry her grocery bags
They aren't as heavy as they seem.


(I wrote this several years ago. It's one of my favorites yet I don't have an inkling as to why.)

Riots...

On October 31st, 1984 - Indira Gandhi (the Prime Minister of India at the time) was assasinated by two of her own (Sikh) body guards.

I will opine on several of the events and facts - in a section below.

Quick Biography:
Indira Gandhi was the only child of Jawahar Lal Nehru (a fag as far as I'm concerned). She was responsible for several successes of India as a country. In 1971, her popularity rose as she battled and gained a victory against Pakistan. She was also in power when India's first nuclear weapon was successfully tested (detonated) and she launched India's first satellite into space.

Right on.

But in 1984, she ordered Indian troops to enter into the Golden Temple (in Amritsar) to fight "terrorists", or promoters of the Sikh secessionist movement. The Sikh secessionist movement was a fight for "Khalistan" a separate Nation for Sikhs. They wanted a nation in the middle of India. Thats right... so it would be surrounded on all sides by... India (sometimes... surdies... (sigh). Anyway, so she ordered the troops into the Golden Temple - one of the most sacred places for Sikhs. Consequently, some very pissed off extremist Sikhs assasinated her in the same year.

As a direct result of this - there was mass rioting in and around Delhi and close to 4,000 Sikhs were massacred (which I believe was Congress sponsored).

What I didn't know happened:

Jabalpur is a prominent city in Madhya Pradesh. It's prominent because it is an important trade route between Maharashtra and farther, southern states to the North. Majority of goods are transported aboard freight trains and trucks and good majority of these truckers are Sikhs. It comes as no surprise that Highway No. 7 (which runs from the South to the North via Jabalpur) is lined with several Sikh settlements (truckers etc.) The following words were spoken by an ex-Commissioner of Police from that district - "We were asked to stand down and stay in our stations as close to 20,000 Sikhs were massacred over a period of 5 days. There was not a single media medium that informed anyone that this was going on - during or after the event. We could do nothing but help clean up in the end."

I sat there dumbfounded.

It was a State organized massacre -similar to the charges in Gujarat except that THAT whole hooplah was over 2,000 Muslims. We're talking 20,000 human beings cut, raped, tortured and burnt. And not one word? Even now if you do a google search you'll find articles stating "4,000 Sikhs killed in Delhi..." etc. etc. and nothing about this.
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Opinion:

1. I am of the stout belief that State comes before religion of any kind. It is this that makes me believe that Muslims shouldn't be allowed to have multiple wives, and it is the same reason that I think that a temple is Indian soil before it is a temple or a church, or whatever. Indira Gandhi's decision to order troops into the Golden Temple is a touchy subject and I recognize that. Unfortunately, I don't know the "requirment" behind this decision. How important was it - etc. etc. If there was an obvious and deliberate threat to the nation, then yes - I am alright with the troops going in there - if there was no direct threat and they were unarmed etc. then maybe not.

2. The response from the Sikh extremists was fairly disappointing. It was rash and not necessary. There was no great "paap" in what happened. There was no "defilement". And there certainly was no need for her to be assasinated.

3. The fact that rioters were walking around with uniformly cut metal rods (sourced to distributors affiliated with the Congress) is greatly disheartening. Whats worse is they had access to and were openly walking around with Voter lists! They knew where which Sikhs lived and went for them. Someone pointed out that this is like organized crime - where groups are allowed to act above the law. Yes, it is like organized crime, except that it wasn't organized. It was killing and murdering Sikhs who - A) Had nothing to do with the Secessionist Movement and B) Had ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with Indira Gandhi's assasination. Blood-boilingly frustrating to note (and I have no doubt that it wasn't this way) that the lack of good consciounce of a few men surpassed the consciounce of several other men - to an extent where thousands lost their lives.

4. Jabalpur. I'm unsure of this story. This person has no reason to lie. But I just find it hard to believe that a major incident like this goes down and it doesn't get reported anywhere. How is this possible? But wait a minute, this is a little similar to the Kashmir situation isn't it? Scores of Hindu pandits and their families have been either killed or ousted from Kashmir. Thousands of Hindus have lost their lives in that region - but I never hear about it in the news. I never read about it in some prominent, intellectual, supposedly fact-finding, little prick's editorial. No - I hear about it from Army officers, friends of my father's. Not one, or two - but several. Independent of each other. So if this can happen in TODAY's day and age, then why not over 20 years ago? State sanctioned massacre - just like Gujarat. Even now I find and have met with Hindus - expressing extreme grief over the death of these Muslims (not just in Gujarat but in Kashmir also). A good Hindu's good consciounce is troubled with the suffering of another. What happens to that consciounce when Hindus and the Sikhs are massacred?

I look at all this shit... hear all this shit... and while I'm frustrated and angry, I'm also relieved (but only a tiny amount). The reason for this miniscule relief? Because all the reasons I thought I was going to hell for are like a particle of dust in a hurricane of sin.

Throttle...

I met an idiot today.

Every so often you run into people on the street from your past. I'm unsure as to why - but I get this indeniable and incessant need to walk up and say hello. In New York, if you catch a glimpse of a familar face across the street, it is more than easy to avoid that person all together. But no... no no no... that would be too easy. An urge drives me to walk up and say hello - "hey - howya been?" Stupid stupid... stupid... (sigh).. stupid me. Why do I forget... for those few moments... the primary reasons I have avoided this person for - for so long. It just slips past me!

But then, within two minutes of dialogue I am reminded - and for the next several hours I will remain frustrated... more at myself than at that person. That ugly person (intrinsically... not appearance-wise)... so ugly that I bet their mother had to get drunk to breast feed them.

There are no words to compensate for their existence. These are the people you want to slap around... actually not even just "oh hi... *smack!* - and they're out cold... no no.. thats not enough... a blunt spoon to the throat perhaps... or a long... unabbreviated strangle-hold - one that keeps them busy with pain for an elongated period of time - yeah... bleeding just doesn't cut it anymore.

Perhaps a burlap bag or a potato sack... followed by several blows with a baseball bat to their head. Eitherway, sometime shit just pours out of people's mouths and all one can do is look at the sky and wonder - is there a god? You hope so.

I've tried the Gandhi path - a simple (sigh).. shrugh, smile and walk away - but how long can my patience be tested? Had there not been witnesses today, Earth would've been short yet another insignificant cockroach.

Pent up anger and angression you say? More like frustration - bound for eternity to these minions of the dumber gods. Its easy if a person is just dumb - no? You can laugh and say - its ok... he's just dumb! Its o-k. But what if they're dumb and they try to overcome it with arrogance? What about if they try to overcome it with opinions - which they believe if spoken with enough conviction will make them sound smart. I feel sorry for their kids... and even worse for the poor women who are fated to conceive them. These are the truly ill-fated women of the world.

I'm out. I will try to sleep off this day and move on to the next. I will pray to God tonight - perhaps he will re-distribute his love for ALL creatures today... because clearly he left out a few...

You know I'm frustrated when my words fail me.

CANCEL!

The South...

So I've visited both Dallas and Atlanta now and am experiencing a different side of America. Granted these visits are short-lived but experiences nonetheless and I do consider them to be moderately important.

Dallas, Texas (June 2005): I was there for a week. My group's annual off-site was held there. The city is fairly nice. Of course, my glasses are tinted with the Big Apple so while I attempted to rid myself of any pre-conceived notions but whats the point of not keeping things relative. As expected it was hot. I mean really hot. Delhi hot. The word I use for Dallas is 'scarce'. There's a scarcity of stores, people and generally.. life as I'm used to it. Its as if a Suburb lives amongst a few tall buildings - very strange for me. Nonetheless, a few adventurous folks and myself proceeded to experience the city by foot. We were in the "hotel/financial" district (if there is such a thing). There was almost no one on the streets. We walked into a bar and the contrast was more than noticeable. Stark white folks staring at us. Our group composition: a Russian (thus white), an Arab, a Chinese fellah and an Indian (myself) . Some dude was singing about his Dodge Ram on the juke box.

Anyway, I've never felt so out of place in my life. A bunch of rednecks staring me down clearly letting me know I wasn't welcome. It came as a sudden realization that I was probably safer in the ghetto than here. Here... they can afford guns.

Anyway, so after mustering up all the courage I could and with whatever dignity I could afford, I sat down with my colleauges and had a beer. We could hear them jeering at us, provoking us - but we endured. In the end, we reached home safely - having successfully swallowed our pride. It was expected. It was known. But it was still a little shocking. Living in New York - I've rarely had a racist comment made at me. There have been some - but they are so mild that they only occur to me as an after thought - "oh... did that just happen because I'm Indian?"

Atlanta, Georgia (June 2006): A year later I'm in Atlanta. I had a high expectations - given that its the home of Ludacris and the Nelly. (Side note: what the fuck is up with Nelly and the band aid on his face?... i mean seriously...) Anyway, so Atlanta is a different kind of town, there are African American people by the scores. Its not that I'm not used to this diversity living in New York and having done some considerable travel to places like Cleveland, Ohio and Washington, D.C. - but a fairly large chunk of the population here is African-American. Note: I do not have a problem with this community - this was a mere observation.

Nevertheless, I'm walking down the street at 10:00 pm with another Indian, a white male and a white female. I've got the Ritz-Carlton to my left and Brooks Brothers to my right. Immediately I feel secure that this neighborhood is fairly safe given these two landmarks. I'm wrong. Within a few seconds of being noticed by the local hobos - we were approached by one of them. 6 feet 6 inches tall with able hands and legs. No reason for him to not have a job. He walks up to us and begins to ask for some change. No - I'm not giving you shit. Fuck you, get a job. Harsh, yes. Fuck you too if you think I'm a dick. You better be a parapalegic or an amputee to get money outta me. So we keep walking but he kept following saying random shit until he bursts into "Fuck you Spanish mother fuckers" - aahhhh... he thinks I'm spanish - nothing unusual there- it happens a lot to me. Anyway, I took offense nonetheless but wasn't going to let Goliath know that. I kept walking, fists clenched - unable to say anything and partially praying that this pissed off troll doesn't shoot me. The chick we were finally gives him a dollar and tells him to go away. Good riddance no?... no... mother fucker stays with us for another 5 minutes - cursing out the spanish, the indian cab drivers and "The Man". Yes, we are the cause of all your problems. So he finally leaves us alone and what happens? Hobo #2 approaches. I mean... you've got to be kidding! Hobo #2 was 5"4' tall and didn't walk straight - so while I wasn't as intimidated anymore, one still wasn't sure of any concealed weapons... not that he had many clothes to hide any weapons but still. I finally turned around to this guy (our new companion) and very politely said "Me no espeeky english... no dolla... no moanie (money)..." It worked! He left, cursing and twitching.We reached back to the hotel in total shock. Couldn't imagine what the ghetto of Atlanta was like - if this was the case in front of the Ritz-Carlton. I don't consider this a racial experience but there's a marked difference between this city and New York. In NY, hobos chill on side, asking for money but never actually following you. You may hear a comment or two but thats about it. This has only strengthened my conclusion that if I'm to stay in this country - it New York and no other place.

Racial profiling of any kind is an inevitable outcome of a capitalist system. Its like Crash, the movie. Watch it if you haven't. Phenomenal one-time watch. I feel this burden. Arun knows what I'm talking about. Wait, to call it a burden is inaccurate. Its a subconscious, constant, prodding, an awareness. No matter where I am - on a flight, checking into a hotel, walking down the street, over here I am c-o-n-s-t-a-n-t-l-y aware of the fact that I'm Indian. I hate it.

I want to go home... back to India.

This is a long-ass blog.

(sigh)