Showing posts with label india. Show all posts
Showing posts with label india. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The Spitter’s Saga




Yaaak Thooo…HolyDove! Make way for the red shower to reach it’s goal..Thhumpp! and it sticks to the wall forever. You ask what?? Well, something that’s beyond Government’s Unique Identification Number or Voter Id card. Something that identifies Indians as Indians. Something that is national passion and favourite pastime. And that ‘something’ is ‘Spitting’. The nation has an ancient fondness for something called paan -- a betel leaf wrapped around a varying mix of areca nuts, cardamom, lime paste, tobacco and other flavours and after it is chewed, there are two places it could go, down or out!.

Art of Spitting

Armed with a mouth full of saliva mixed in discharges from the respiratory passages, they leisurely shoot it on all the walls, may it be walls of post offices, railway stations, bus stands, streets, adjoining walls of some residential/office building, bazaars and why not the hidden wall behind the elevator? If you haven’t noticed it yet then do it next time you climb an elevator and press a button before exit so that it explores some other floors while you check the copper-stained-walls-behind-the-elevator that have been rusted from the infected saliva of spitters. The guthkas and paans are to be blamed that lure these innocent people who are in a habit of constantly chewing paan and after few minutes just like the itch needs to be scratched, the spit also has to be smacked out.

I paused for about seven minutes when I first saw it, wondering how they actually do it! And how on earth could the ‘impossible to reach’ part of the wall i.e between the two floors could ever be stained. Possibly the elevator constructers were too pissed with the contractor and they retaliated by decorating the walls with grime, I concluded the thought to leave. Or it could be the job of spit-haters who love to part with our bodily fluids and ‘thoo’ it on the walls, I thought again later.

Recently a columnist explained the whole concept as the biological make-up that enables them (the spit-haters) to produce so much of stuff that seem to be forever having to get rid of and expel it from the body lest they fall sick and die. It’s funny that the spit is not only crimson or blood red but also transparent and green! Don’t ask how. You must have seen the streets and public toilets patched with thick cough like phlegm ridiculing at you as if you have been commanded to wipe them off with naked hands.

These Do No Good Too

Nevertheless the ‘Do Not Spit Here’ sign post do no good, rather, itself gets bathed with the sputum yet stands still in a (S)pitiable condition. If spitters are at the bus stand, they will spit at the stand while they are waiting, on the steps of the bus while boarding, and through the window on the road while riding. The auto-rickshaw-wallah will slow down while spitting, the taxi driver will poke out his head and spit in the air, the truck driver won’t even look while spitting. (Seems like there is some big spitting marathon going on in the country and everyone’s in.)

“A tourist friend of mine from Netherland initially got horrified to misunderstand the red spit as blood and got impatient to know why so many people suffer from almost the same disease and still be unnoticed. But soon it dawned on her that the terracotta haze is nothing but a filthy, unhealthy, smutty and stinking habit that many Indians acquire, Isnt’t it petulant?” asked Akanksha, a bank employee irritably.

How About this

It won’t be surprising if Indians approach the International Olympic Committee with a proposal to introduce a new sport ‘the Spitathlon’. Since most Indians practice the sport, it is sure to get huge viewership and fans. Millions of tobacco companies would sponsor and zillons of money would flow in. Doubtlessly for Indians to become world champs.

“Though my teeth are stained and my mouth smells but I make sure to get rid of the first juice of paan that is dangerous for health so I spit,” comforted Jagpal, a businessman. But Where? Where do you spit? “Ah! That’s not a worry, there are many places.” he winked. Okhay!!

This Would Do!

In China and Dubai, chewing and spitting paan, especially in public places, is prohibited. Dare you suggest that we take the same approach here in this country, soon some bleeding heart liberal sena attacks on you and declare it a person’s human right to spit on the pavement.

Let’s start a secret campaign of saying ‘yukk’ to the people spitting around. Make ickiest face looking at the blob of gob spitted by them. If this doesn’t work, maximum we could do is to make sconces like brackets on the walls with a door to cover. Two motives are fulfilled here, one the spit is out as usual on the wall second the wall still looks clean and beautiful. Atleast the distemper and paint expenses would be limited to four walls of the sconce. Spitters beware, all of this is a flabby ‘something’ to annoy the people but once they vow to stop you, the maroon infected sputum would go down, not out.

CAUTION: Effects of chewing paan are very similar to that of chewing tobacco. Many people think that chewing paan is safer than smoking tobacco. But studies have shown that instead of being safer, they are equally, if not more detrimental to one's health. This is because, paan with betel nut and the other spices is kept in your mouth for minutes at a time, causing more harmful chemicals to enter your body than when you smoke - you just shift your lung problems to your mouth.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Peepli Live…Ofcourse


People, Politics and 'Media- The Greatest Tragedy of India'

You must watch this film, not for how good is the cinematography or direction or the dialogues (it's more of slangs to be better) but for how and why the Media is loosing it- the faith, interest, dignity, honour and truism it had been carrying and gaining since it became the fourth pillar of our democracy, the ‘Prajatantra’.

Prajatantra in English is democracy means classlessness, equality and freedom that has now become an excuse to misuse the power of the unethicals.

Movie narrates how the news becomes news, how small news in a small newspaper becomes breaking news in all the TV channels and then how it is shaped/cooked/sensationalised and manipulated as per the requirement.

Mumbai teri jaan

I remember when I was in Mumbai as an intern to a news channel around 3 years ago…I had this urge to join any TV channel asap to atleast get a break and then flourish. I used to dream and imagine the expression on my parent’s face when they would watch me on the television. Suddenly I got an opportunity to cover Sajnay Dutt’s Tada case when thankfully the chaos there made me realise electronic media isn’t my cup of tea and then Bollywood’s biggest of all Abhi-Ash wedding coverage made me make my decision iron strong. They look beautiful just on screen but honestly I felt like a Dog for the first time standing at Bachchan’s gate in scorching heat for hours and have nothing much to report except for the decorations and the names of guests arriving! Then the stupidity of reporters saying “Sthiti abhi itni dardnak (WHAT?) nahi hui hai ki Amitabh ko police force ki zarurat pade, aap dekh sakte hain darwaze pe jo gende phool ki mala lagi hui hai wo (phalane) dukaan se ayi hai lagta hai) !!!! huh!! I thought if I will just have to blabber about everything that’s of least concern but the news and then exaggerate for nothing then….should I…?

Then arrived Abhishek on a horse and suddenly the crowd turned crazy running on road to touch and see him. Police force started thrashing even the media persons in confusion, I have no other option than showing my college identity card (no press card was given to interns) and escape to a corner. Here I am trying to explain that things are not all that sophisticated and polished as they are portrayed.

And Peepli Live shows it- the truth half said.

I tried to watch the movie not as a mediaperson, just an audience who waited for quality movie to garbage the thoughts of idiotic and fictional movies in the dump yard behind my brain. The hyperbole of electronic media in the movie scared the poor farmer to move!! I mean the media was behind his back even to the field to check the colour of his excreta! For God’s sake!! But yes, this is what the media is actually doing. Digging stories from garbage and dead graveyards. The farmer then disappointedly disappeared till the channels wale declared him dead..lol

I say…

No sooner I turn on the news channel, my mood turns off, my conscience abuse me for encouraging their TRPs and I decide to blog yet another post.

It disturbs me because I feel that I belong to it and it belongs to each nerve of me now. The time isn’t too far when people would stop appreciating and believing us, we probably don’t understand the fact that we exist exclusively on their BELIEF, and we are betraying that belief by CREATING STORIES. This film has been made to convey a message not about farmers, village, illiterates or politicians but Our Media whom we believe what they show. And saddest part is media thinks, “Hum wahi dikha rahe hain jo Public dekhna chahti hai”. C’mon kuch aur dikha kar to dekho guys…something substantial?

I hereby conclude in a poignant tone that electronic media depicts the saddest picture of Journalism among all its streams of Print, TV, Radio and Web. In my opinion Media has become the Greatest Tragedy of India and would soon become in your opinion too.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Saare Jahan Se Acha..Ye Tiranga Humara…



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My India, My People and My Flag

"At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new…India discovers herself again."

- Jawaharlal Nehru
(on Indian Independence Day, 1947)

“When in despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love

have always won. There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it always". - Mahatma Gandhi

Jai Hind! It’s me the rectangular shaped raiment divided into equal horizontal colours with a blue wheel of 24 spokes in the middle. I distinguish our India from other countries. I am your very own national flag, the tricolour!!

15th August being one of the most historic days for our beloved country, when I see most of the population engaged in enjoying, performing, dancing and singing around, I would also want to confirm my presence by contributing my thoughts and feelings with you. Firstly I am overwhelmed with honour and pride to know that one of the citizens initiated to amend certain rules of [Prevention of Insults to National Honour Act, 1971 and violation of flag code 2002.] After facing little opposition of FIR and complaints, he finally succeeded to announce that not only the ministers and VIPs but every Indian citizen can unfurl me with respect, honour and dignity even after 6 pm. Just one thing you need to make sure is to illuminate the surroundings or you might violate the Flag Code of Conduct.

My First Look

I have traveled for 63 years now since my recreation and have observed several ups and downs to grow older. I was officially adopted on July 22, 1947, a few months before India received independence from Britain on August 15. It was the nationalist political party, the Indian National Congress, whose efficient members designed me after long discussions and fuming arguments. Did you know I was initially introduced on August 31, 1931 as the national flag? And I looked absolutely different then. Red colour symbolizing strength was at the bottom, saffron for victory in the middle and green at the top for boldness and enthusiasm. Eight lotuses at the top symbolized provinces of British India and the sun and moon at the bottom represented Hindu and Muslim. Vande Mataram was inscribed in the center in Devnagari.

There were several changes made even after that with a Gandhi’s charkha that’s now become the blue wheel. The final and first national flag for independence was designed by Venkiah Pingali of Andra Pradesh, it was hoisted on August 16, 1947 at 8.30 am which then unfurled on August 15 since 1948.

Anyway I know that’s not much in your interest but there are ofcourse a few ecstatic and hard feelings that I want you people to know.

Today I Complain

Though there were certain strict rules inscribed to express love, respect and devotion to me just like what Hindus do to their Gods, Muslim does to his Allah and other do in their respective cultural Gods. It was said that:

-Under this flag there is no difference between a prince and a pauper, rich and poor, man and woman. Every Indian should rise to salute the national flag. (And what do they do when there’s an urgent need to maintain peace and harmony? They run holding me in groups to discriminate between the religions and batter those who overlook me!)

- The Tiranga must not be used as a drapery in any form whatsoever except in State / military funerals.
(Drapery? For God’s sake there are some Matajis who use me as foot-mat!!)


- The Tiranga must not be draped over the hood, top, sides or back of a vehicle or a train or a boat. (Dude! I am being printed on faces, as tattoos, pants etc.. No, am not being arrogant to receive full fledged respect from the citizens because I know it couldn’t be received forcefully. But I believe our constitution allows right to freedom of speech.)



- The Tiranga must not be used or stored in such a manner as may damage or soil it.

(Oh Please! don’t you realise they burn me almost daily in Kashmir or whenever and wherever some riots takes place?)

- When the Tiranga is in a damaged or soiled condition, it may not be cast aside or disrespectfully disposed of, but shall be destroyed as a whole in private, preferably by burning or by any other method consistent with the dignity of the flag. The other proper way to destroy the Tiranga could be immersion into the Ganga/lake or buried with due respect.
(No, dear people I am actually being sold out least in Re1 on the street square before and on August 15 and then dusted/ stamped/ shed/ dustbin-ned and everything after that. Didn’t you realise it yet?)


- The Tiranga must not be used as a portion of a costume or uniform of any description. It shall not be embroidered upon cushions or handkerchiefs or printed on napkins or boxes.

(Well I was imprinted in saree of a famous sports celebrity to touch her feet with other national flags of various countries. Yes, it created quite a hullabaloo around)

- The Tiranga must not be used in any form of advertisement nor shall an advertisement sign be fastened to the pole from which the flag is flown.
(Well sometimes there was too much of it to sensationalise and grip the sports star like Sachin Tendulkar who was accused of
sporting the flag on his cricket helmet below the BCCI emblem. He later changed it and placed the flag above BCCI emblem.)

Dear People…

I, the flag of India feature three coloured bands. The top band is saffron [representing courage and sacrifice, the second is white representing purity and truth, and the third band is green standing for faith, fertility and chivalry.] In the middle of the flag is a blue chakra signifying growth and development.

So, why don’t you just accept me as your national flag and not some sort of designed raiment to be draped or played and painted around? And dear people, I would be treated honourably around the world only when my own citizens would nurse me delicately. Don’t throw me away in the mud or stamp me after the day of freedom is over, because I represent you and you represent me through out the year anywhere and everywhere. Let me feel the feeling of sophistication that you tend to express but unknowingly disregard me most of the times.

There are a few refined ways to fold and preserve me that they usually do at Wagah Border. The same is followed by the neighbouring country Pakistan too. I believe the kind of discipline followed at Wagah Border could shake the soul of enemies to the core. Well, the simple ways to fold me up are:

1: Work with a partner to fold the flag of India. This will help you avoid having the flag touch the ground or anything else near it.

2: Hold one end of the flag with both hands while your partner holds the other end of the flag. The stripes should face up.

3: Fold the flag in half keeping the fold parallel with the stripes.

4: Fold the flag three times in the other direction. Each of the three folds should be equal in size to the other folds.

5: Keep the flag of India in a respectable place and handle with care. It should not be placed on the ground, on a table or in any other manner which might be deemed as disrespectful.

So, I sign off with an enthusiasm to be unfurled on all the buildings, houses and offices depicting the grace of my country and citizens today. Happy Independence Day!!

Sunday, August 8, 2010

All Indians Are Our Brothers and Sisters… Oh! C’mon...


Recently Published:

It was Friendship Day last Sunday…when one of the most disgraceful events took place in the capital to be etched in the hearts of sufferers for a long time. Yes, dear all, it’s a crime to celebrate the days invented by western countries, in our culturally rich capita of Chhattisgarh, Raipurl. This is the message conveyed by Dharamsena, Shivsena, Bajrang Dal and more groups like those through the turmoil they created.

The friendship day chaos

What would have been ‘their’ reaction to find ‘their’ sister celebrating friendship day with her friend or whatsoever in that park? Would it be the same? Would ‘they’ vanquish, trample and kick the girl in public place pouring oil and colouring her face with grease in front of the camera!! Not at all… ‘they’ couldn’t even dream of doing it rather, ‘they’ would break the bones of people daring to insult ‘their’ sister. Here the ‘they’ and ‘their’ quoted because it refers to ‘them’. The (un)respectable activists belonging to Bajrang Dal and Dharamsena etc, who created mess, filth and chaos on their sin-to-celebrate Friendship Day .

Why don’t you mind your own business!
A group of 12-15 goons (better to term goons instead of activists) of what they call is Bajrang Dal, Dharam Sena and Shiv Sena, valiantly rushes into several parks and restaurants shamelessly exhibiting audacity, stripping purity out of love and friendship. Molesting and beating the guys might be in their routine but the cheap act of KICKING, MISBEHAVING, ABUSING and HARASSING GIRLS proved that they aren’t gender biased but the one for all ‘beasts’. Irrespective of gender discrimination they hit and insult anyone assuming it as their ‘Param Dharma’ that too on camera and in presence of Police force! Are those goons to decide what’s and where’s for the citizens? They call themselves the guards of society and culture. So we should assume that their culture allows them to thrash females on the name of saving the culture? No way, they actually want to make spaces on cover pages of all the newspapers and the media wilfully make their wish come true. They suddenly disappear when society really needs voice for justice then why to abruptly turn up out of the blue on the special days?
The offence of those innocent people was just that they risked life to involve into an anti-festival called friendship day.


Pillars of Democracy
Guessing the girls’ state of mind would be something out of question but here the gun points towards the important pillars of democracy that were present on spot in attire of human beings. Do we need to name them here?
The Police force present on the spot muted themselves when the maliciously mischievous goons pranced in, in the area. Whatever would be the reason of their powerlessness. Then comes ‘the king’ of Indian constituency- ‘Our Media’ with highest TRP creating turmoil and right to news on petty incidents every now and then. By god’s disgrace they don’t even realise what they are doing, forgetting their prime duty as a human to report about the incident or atleast try to save the poor girl from beatings. But they don’t forget to sensationalise/ endlessly repeat the clippings and scream about the shamelessness of people present at the incident.
Even the women helpline number- the Rajdhani mahila police, aapki seva mai tatpar couldn’t show its worth. Now who would believe you Mam Mahila Police?

Better late than never
Surprisingly after undesirable pregnant pauses only, the villains were detained the next day. Long after the tormented females were pictured in all the local newspapers, national news channels and web portals. When several women associations yelled for justice, voice was raised in the Vidhan Sabha monsoon session, the authority woke up from deep sleep and detained a few sena people. But the regard and esteem that accompanied those girls have divorced them to be looked upon with dishonour wherever they walk.


Shameful! Whole country is talking about you

# Nihar Nayak: Dude, open your eyes Girls were beaten up, kicked and their faces were blackened. Hell bajarang dal..main reason is that they are uneducated, unemployed, unsuccessful & don't want to walk with time...ban the bajarang dal...the killer of mother INDIA..
# Meenakshi Choudhary: They should be slapped and kicked by those girls in front of public. There are lots of ways to convey message, this is not the way to protect Hindu religion. It depends on individual whether he/she wants to celebrate or not, who gave them right to misbehave like this?
“Kya saza sunai jaye? Break the bones or should you the ‘moral sena people’ served with the same treatment?”
More than 500 responses like these are blinking on various websites criticising the act happened here.
Almost same episodes of assaulting and beating girls in public places unnecessarily, have taken place in the recent years. Mangalore pub incident in 2009, Meerut police attacked innocent girls sitting in parks in 2005, girl stripped and insulted in Mumbai in 2007 and many other events like these keep disturbing the nobility and honour of Indian girls followed by the impotent yet pregnant pauses…
Time to take the sword in your hand girls and REACT to the beasts from poor culture.



Thursday, July 29, 2010

Book Review: Train to Pakistan


From The Book Shelf

Comment: Breathtakingly superb
Genre- classic fiction
Pages:181



A story that connects each Indian and Pakistani to its past to feel that we weren’t always the way we are now. A confrontation which couldn’t be undone, the brunt of which India and Pakistan is still facing. ‘The Partition’.
The author’s very debut novel though written in the year 1956 still carries credence enough to stand and contest the latest bestselling novels of the recent years. In the beginning it depicts an interesting and peaceful picture of a rural place in the borders of Punjab and Pakistan called Mano Majra that would compel today’s reader wondering on the survival of ancient people in absence of mere resources like ‘watch’. People of Mano Majra actually depended on the morning and evening trains to sleep, wake and eat, trains were the time-tellers to them.
The story gives an idea that it’s been written with a focus to highlight the turbulent situation during partition but featuring the lifestyle of Mano Majra and a tiny love story in the backdrop keeps balm-ing the painful wounds both to the writer and reader as well.

Khushwant Singh in this book reveals the unerasable outbreak of our country’s history that’s haunting both India and Pakistan till date. With millions of men killed, women raped and children burnt, it’s been more than half a century old now. Thus, it carries an ability to move every patriotic nerve of the country lovers.
His powerful writing doesn’t allow the reader to ponder over the gory inhuman incidents of murder and slaughter for a long time as the mood of the story took sudden turns to bring back the reader’s composure.

The presumably highlighted characters like Lalaji the Hindu moneylender, Juggat Singh alias Jugga one of the notorious elements mostly in and out of the prison, the Muslim priest and the Magistrate cum Deputy Commissioner Hukum Chand, simple priest of Sikh temple, Iqbal, the communist party worker whose religion remained disclosed till the end, none of them proved to be a monopolist. Rather played acceptably till the end while Jugga’s strong dialogue delivery, aggressiveness, mood swings and indigenousness in the end give him a saviour’s title.

Khushwant Singh sketches his characters with a sure and steady hand.
Train to Pakistan highlights the political complications after sudden taste of independence while the author made sure not to be judgemental over the people behind mass murders, rapes, robbery and violence, he didn’t blame anyone. Instead he emphasised on those innocent people who were absolutely ignorant of what’s and why’s of the happenings, while they were brutally killed or separated from their own people for reasons they didn’t knew, they were bewildered, victimised and torn apart. Things change for the worse when an east-bound train makes an unscheduled stop at Mano Majra, the wagons full of corpses. The most heart-rending passage in the book is when the government makes the decision to transport all the Muslim families from Mano Majra to Pakistan.
It’s a must read for every Indian and Pakistani to know the hard truth of the begged independence away from just the politics, Britishers, Gandhi and Nehru gaatha. This gimmick book has been reprinted and translated into many languages since its publication in 1956. Another reason for its publicity was also the author’s boldness and exposed writing in terms of the women characters including a little teenage girl in the story. Compared to the conservative era of 1950s, it’s considered as an intrepidly courageous step in the world of writing for Indian writers and readers.
Khushwant Singh since then went on to become a famously truculent, humorous, and eccentric columnist and editor, but this is one book infused with his compassion and humanity or say inhumanity.
---------------------

Friday, August 15, 2008

'India' to be rectified !!

On pretext of ‘Me being a li’l bit disturbed due to the recent distortion’ with gritted teeth and biting back the tears, I dedicate this Post to the merciful and awful situation of Our Un-biased Media, Our Government and Their victims. India Today celebrates 61th year of Independence in its latest edition of ‘Impotent India’ saying everything in whole lot of 25 pages cove-red story about how capable the Indians are to be served to terrorists and how incapable they are to save our India from becoming a slave to Terrorism.
Hey rectification is needed with the noun – ‘Impotent India’ to ‘Impotent Indians’ isn’t?
Yes, its about the Bomb Blasts right from the Black Friday to the up-to-the-minute Ahmadabad bombings. They say Indians are strong to face the disastrous calamities, to get mutilatedly vanquished, getting back to life as if its in their routine. Anyway, they are left with no other option regretting on their decision to vote for the most lethargic pigs of the country. We the Indians are responsible for everything, We the Indians represent India, We the Indians are making our country incapable and unproductive, Then who is Impotent?? India or Indians? We make India...huh !!
Neither we were, nor we are free. Under the Mughals, then, under the Britishers, then, Under Terrorism/ Government/ Media. We believe what Media says, we do, what we are asked for by the Government and then we bleed because terrorist wants us to....Isn’t it a real sad story of the Independent India? I believe it is. In spite of not struggling for impressive or impactful words here, I am unable to write how helpless i feel about me and the citizens. Because sitting in the safe parts of the country and grumbling about the situation is no solution, i know. Handicapped is the ‘Me’ or the ‘Authority’.
Its going to take ages for rectifying the errors that we can wait for, but alas! our [ought to be] most eligible admin of the country, The Government and The Media are the most ineligible to bring colours to India. They are actually primarily responsible for the situation and need an immediately complete make-over to get things improved. Being a media-person, I have personally experienced the bitterness of how the important news gets edited or cut-short the facts with eminent names, leaving the story Raw. Its sad to mention that we search for blood and death to get a capturing footage/pictures for an identical turn to a story.

Check out the terrifying pictures published in the India Today Magiazine.
In stead of rescuing the shattered, traumatized, bleeding, crushed Human Beings, The Photographer ( another human being ) does not hesitate ( or I would rather say shiver ) to click the flash in front of them who have just encountered the Breath-taking murderous flash of their life. Stunning..... !!!
In America, to publish or telecast the dreadful pictures and videos of dead body or blood is against the Law. But we Indians are bold enough to digest all of this because this is what we have seen since the Mughal era. Isn’t?
On the other hand, the Government, they come in power-rule-fight with other parties-make victims for their political selfishness-and give speeches till they die!! What a Power!!
Coming to Terrorism, they take us for granted. Mockingly. They do whatever they want to, washing their brains to the Islamic culture, becoming the Jehadis forgetful about the real meaning of Jehad and very very simply killing the people fearlessly. They drink blood and eat human flesh, careless about not bit of humanity and then they talk about the Nang Namoos i.e their Honour and Pride. Giving bedsores to people is their honour and seeing the cheerless eyes welled with tears is their pride.
For Independent Terrorists: Please Stop Treating Us Like A Bin to Shove Bullets and burn us. We are human. We are not things.
For
Independent Government: Please stop mis-using us. At least try to use us we are worth to use, for good results. Try to give what we need not what we don't deserve.
For
Independent Media: For our sake, please stop misguiding us. Though we are a bunch of superstitious fools to believe whatever you have, to fool us but then we are left with no other option, You are all same. Least you can do is to not showing what is, to be not.
I have much more to say but now I am tired and something important.....if u need a life for our country.......Don’t forget me. Jai Hind !!! Happy In-dependence Day.