Sabre-rattlers, shut up

Sabre-rattlers, shut upLet me repeat for the umpteenth time: there must never be another Indo-Pak war. If, god forbid, there is one, there will be no winners. Both India and Pakistan have long-range missiles that can ruin both countries. So let us tell the sabre-rattlers in clear terms, be they Pakistanis or Indians, that war is too serious a matter to be left to soldiers or politicians. Only common men, women and children who will be most affected by its impact have the right to take this decision.

If necessary, make human chains extending from Kashmir to the Arabian Sea, one on the Pakistani side, the other on the Indian. And let the tanks and armoured cars run over the chains before they start firing their guns. There are people of peace and goodwill who will gladly volunteer to stake their lives for their countries.

We have our Kuldip Nayyars and Swami Agniveshs to lead them; they have their Asma Jehangirs, Najam Sethis and Jugnu Mohsins to lead them. This is what Gandhi would have done. This is what Ghaffar Khan, the Frontier Gandhi, would have done. This is what you and I should be doing.

So what are the options when our relations come close to breaking point, as they did after the attack in Mumbai on 26/11? We proved to the world that the perpetrators were Pakistanis. Since the crime was committed with military precision, we proved to the world that the criminals were trained by professionals on Pakistani soil. Pakistan’s rulers were reluctant to admit that because it would reflect on their inability to control subversive elements. I’m convinced that in their hearts they know our charges to be true and in due course will concede it.

We have also proved to the world that Pakistan is ruled by important men whose writ does not run beyond a few miles around Islamabad, and that its social norms are dictated by demented mullahs who close down girls schools, force women to wear burqas and impose medieval codes of conduct on the masses. They also preach hatred against Indians. We have to jointly wage a relentless war against them till they are stamped out of existence. If we succeed, we can live in peace as good neighbours.

The good die youngWhenever a young person close to me dies, my first reaction is to ask why he or she had to die without enjoying life to the full. This happened recently when my nephew Binny’s wife Happy died suddenly one morning. She was in good health. The evening before I had seen her playing with the children of the mohalla. You would not mistake her: a mass of grey-black hair cascading down to her waist and a diamond sparkling on her nose. Full of vitality and happy laughter.

Early next morning she had acute pain in her chest. Instead of waking up her husband sleeping next to her, she rang up a friend. The friend insisted she wake him up and take her to a hospital. At first, the doctor did not think it was serious and told her he would have her up and about soon. That was not to be. They brought her back in a glass coffin. I got the news from my daughter. I was stunned with disbelief.

Though the mother of a grown-up daughter Sanam, working in Dubai, I regarded her as a girl. I only knew her nickname Happy — and happy she always was. Happy had the unique distinction of being liked by everyone in our extended family in which outward bonhomie often conceals backbiting and bitchiness. She was not interested in petty squabbles and was more inclined towards spiritual matters. While others spend their evenings in the Gold or Gymkhana clubs, she did the rounds of bookstores in Khan Market. On her way home, she occasionally dropped in to chat with me.

“Mamaji, I am not interested in politics or fiction, I’m into metaphysics,” she said to me once. I didn’t understand what she meant by metaphysics and asked her to elucidate. “Religion, love, other-worldiness, spirituality and that sort of thing, you know,” she replied. I didn’t understand but nodded my head. It was a strange preoccupation for a woman who was the niece of a famous soldier, General Harbaksh Singh, and moved in high society. She did most of the talking during the arguments she had with preachers of religion and their disciples. She always got the better of them as she was better read and had thought over problems of life and death. Some relations say that she had a premonition that her time was coming to an end. She had told them and arranged some of her affairs — ‘in case’. On her 60th and last birthday, she told her friends not to bring any presents. Instead, she gave them gifts in return.
I wonder why nature does not provide a fixed period of time for people to enjoy all that life has to offer before they go.
Most people are in reasonably good shape until their 70s. Then the body begins to show marks of deterioration — life becomes a burden to oneself and those around you. I ask Happy wherever she is, “Why did you have to leave us so early?”
Exclaiming Taj
When we see the Taj Mahal at Agra we say “Wah Taj!”. But when we see the Taj Hotel in Mumbai we say, “Ah, Taj”
(Contributed by KJS Ahluwalia, Amritsar)

To believe or not ?

To believe or not? God knows Our ancestors made a list of five deadly sins: kaam (lust), krodh (anger), lobh (greed), moh (attachment) and ahankaar (pride). Of these, four take a deadly toll on the one who indulges in them and marginally on their family and friends. However, greed (lobh) not only diminishes the greedy in the eyes of his fellow-beings, but also deprives thousands of others of their hard-earned livings. Greed is the deadliest of the five sins.

These thoughts crossed my mind when I read news of the Satyam scandal in Andhra Pradesh, Shibu Soren’s downfall in Jharkhand, Mayawati’s birthday bashes in Uttar Pradesh and the charges of corruption levelled against Vasundhara Raje when she was chief minister of Rajasthan. I have little doubt similar cases of greed leading to corrupt practices exist in all the states of our god-forsaken land.

What makes a person who has over hundreds of crores worth of assets — eats the tastiest of food, drinks the headiest of wines, lives in a large mansion with a retinue of servants, has a fleet of limousines and gets everything he wants — want more land, real estate and more money in different banks? He should know he can’t take it with him when he dies. Perhaps he wants to provide for his sons and daughters, grand-children down many generations. He should know inherited wealth is unearned wealth and is soon frittered away in contentious litigation. He would die a happier man if he spent what he cannot use in building schools, colleges or hospitals for the poor.

I am not sure what penalties will be imposed on these people if found guilty. Our judiciary has limited options: imprisonment for a limited period or a heavy fine. It has no corrective measures. Perhaps the guilty should also be given psychiatric treatment and asked in detail why they did what they did without there being any plausible reasons for doing it; or they should be made to sit in a dark room, shut their eyes and in their own minds, go over their doings. If they themselves come to believe they have done wrong, their minds would be cleansed and this would enable them to become better citizens.

O bligh me in Blighty
It is estimated that around 40 per cent of the population of England question the existence of god and do not go to any church. The figure of doubters in the younger generation is much higher, around 60 per cent. From the little I know of Europe, I would hazard a guess that the situation is the same in the Scandinavian countries and the Netherlands. The rest of Europe is largely Roman Catholic or Greek Orthodox. Amongst them doubters do not come out openly, but it can be presumed that attendance at churches is significantly lower than it was 20 years ago.
Now the doubters in England have come out in the open. On four of London’s bus routes, buses carry huge sign-boards reading, “There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.” Doubters appealed for funds to step up their publicity. They expected to get around £5,500. They received more than £140,000. They plan to put up hoardings on underground stations, public places and all bus routes.

My estimate of doubters in India is around 2 per cent of the population. I belong to this miniscule minority. I am not an atheist but an agnostic. I accept the possibility of god’s existence but since there is no proof of there being one who creates, preserves and destroys life, and is at the same time almighty, just and merciful, I keep an open mind.

Belief in god and religion is a kind of passion which generates both noble works and evil deeds. It has produced great literature, music, art, architecture and sculpture. It has also produced intolerance, civil strife, wars, cruelty and persecution. On the one hand it provides a crutch for those who are stricken with sadness, disease and adversity — solace denied to atheists and agnostics; on the other it creates delusions of hope and betterment for which there is no basis. Men of faith believe in miracles, which those without faith do not accept. However, you can have a good time and enjoy life whether or not you believe in god. I enjoy the good things of life — tasty food, single malt Scotch, vintage wines and the company of the fairest of the fair.

At the wrong end Two elderly ladies met every Saturday morning in a café to chat and have coffee. One of them was hard of hearing, used a hearing aid and suffered from constipation, requiring glycerine suppositories to clear her bowels. One morning she turned up with a suppository in her ear. She could hardly hear what her friend was saying. The friend shouted: “Mary, you have a suppository in your ear.”

Mary took it out and replied: “Now I know where I put my hearing aid.”
(Contributed by Amit Tuteja, Washington D. C.)

How J&K taught the world a lesson

The outcome of the elections in Jammu and Kashmir has important messages for both Indians and Pakistanis. First, the healthy turnout of voters conclusively proves that the calls by some Kashmiri leaders for a boycott fell on deaf ears. All the fire-breathers of Srinagar’s Lal Chowk were silenced. Their Pakistani cousins across the line of control should now realise that Indian Kashmiris have had their fill of infiltrators with mischievous intent and should stop abetting them.

I am overjoyed at the emergence of young Omar Abdullah as the unquestioned leader of new Kashmir. There’s more to him than just a spokesman of Kashmiri aspirations. His voice resounds across the length and breadth of the entire country. He is perhaps the first Muslim leader since Independence who commands the respect of all Indians.
He is articulate and a good orator in Kashmiri, Urdu and English. What he says is not empty rhetoric but makes good sense and warms everyone’s hearts. He has all the qualities of leadership laid down by Allama Iqbal to the leader of the caravan: Yaqeen mahkam, amal paiham, mohabbat Fateh-aalam Jihad-e-zindagani mein hain yeh meer-e-kaaraavan kee shamsheeren (In man’s crusade in life, he has three weapons: Faith that his cause is just, courage to wage a war till eternity, love that embraces all humanity)

Omar Abdullah’s lineage is impeccable. He is the grandson of Sher-e-Kashmir Sheikh Mohammed Abdullah who opted to remain in secular India rather than join Islamic Pakistan. He is the son of Farooq Abdullah, ex-chief minister of Kashmir. He is highly educated, a product of Burnhall School, Srinagar; Lawrence School, Sanawar and Sydenham College, Bombay, from where he passed his BCom to become a management consultant.
He has plenty of experience: twice elected to the Lok Sabha and minister in Vajpayee’s BJP-led government. The right kind of family: mother, an Irish; wife, Payal, a Hindu; sister, married to Sachin Pilot, a Hindu. He is above communal prejudices.

He should see that the residents of Jammu, who are largely Hindu, feel that they are Kashmiri. He should rehabilitate Kashmiri Pandits who have been rendered homeless. He should also outline in specific detail what he means by autonomy for his state. So far this has never been clearly spelt out.
He should bring peace to the Valley so that once again, people from all over the world come to visit this paradise on earth, his homeland. Let him regain it.
The country needs younger, forward-looking leaders. Old fuddy-duddies have miserably failed. Let young men like Rahul Gandhi, Omar Abdullah, Sachin Pilot and Milind Deora come forward to take the reins of the government in their firmer hands.

What they worry?Kapil Sibal, a central minister, mailed a poem, ‘The Art of Denial’. Some excerpts:

Ajmal Kasab trained to be A terrorist, Pakistani.But Pakis say they do not knowWe’ll have to prove if that is so.His parents at Faridkot claimThis is our child the one they named.Since then they have been whisked awayWhere they are now? No one can say.Be upfront, says Nawaz SharifYour version is beyond belief.Denial of open access,Why bar parents to meet the press?House out of bounds most Indians feelYou’d rather have the truth concealed.Your plea, government unfairly blamed........Non-State actors even if PakTheir whereabouts cannot be trackedArrest, wanted Azhar MasoodWill vitiate our national moodArresting him would not be rightWe have no means to extraditeThe fallback is we are in doubtDo not quite know his whereaboutsWe did admit erroneouslyThat he is in our custodyIf you question our honestyWill deny his identity.

Secretarial workForgiving terrorists is god’s job. Fixing their appointments with god is our job.
(Contributed by J.P. Singh Kaka, Bhopal)