Posted on by nikita

The Dhurandhars 

Disclaimer: A fictionalized session whose idea materialized as a blog from various videos in my YouTube feed. Any resemblance to real procedures is coincidental, exaggerated, and satirical.

Winter Session 2025: Lok Sabha – December 1

Clad in pristine white, Shree Shree presided over the Parliamentary session as the Speaker. One-of-a-kind experience to handle the parliamentary pandemonium for an otherwise benign soul. Conscious of his soft, lyrical voice, he requested his fiery competitor, Shivguru, vibrantly donned in a rich blue silk turban and khes, to accompany him as the Deputy Speaker. 

Unconstitutional? 

Of course. Like leaders, like speakers. 

Both these spiritual gurus were present to ensure that there was no bait in the form of words, slogans, actions, or behaviour from any political clan that could create clouds of rage, polluting the already hazardous Delhi air and thereby surpassing the latest AQI report. 

Zero Hour

The House wants to know why the leader of the Opposition was excluded from the official banquet hosted in honour of the Russian President by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Does it …?

Before the MP of the Opposition Party could complete his question, there was an immediate uproar from the Ruling Party over the use of the new alias, ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’. The comparison of the leader of the nation to the fictional dark wizard from the Harry Potter story immediately served as bait for them. It touched a raw nerve, transforming the Parliament into a battlefield of jibes rather than a mature debate.  

Baffled and bewildered — not just by the commotion but also by the parliamentarians’ unexpected level of literacy — the guru looked expectantly at the Deputy Speaker to apprise the leader in the Opposition to ask a relevant question. To stick to the question that had been sent to them for review, and make the right use of the zero hour, i.e. raising questions that require urgent and immediate attention and discussions. 

Sadly, the restless, unawakened souls didn’t maintain the decorum of the House, despite repeated warnings, and what followed was disruption, dissolution and dispersion.

As days passed, sick of the pollution — inside and outside the Parliament — politicians trudged towards the closing day of the Winter Session. Btw, the LoP was able to sneak out to a foreign land for a few days amidst the Parliamentary session. 

December 19 – Last day – Question hour

The Dhurandhar effect

After taking permission from the Speaker and Deputy Speaker, Mr S.Ahmed, an MP from Bengal, raised a question about the film Dhurandhar. He demanded that the MIB (Ministry of Information and Broadcasting) minister inform the House whether such hatred-inciting movies, featuring an actor against whom an FIR was filed in 2022 for an obscene photo shoot, be created. Shouldn’t the freedom of creative expression of such creators be curtailed? 

To err is human, respected Speaker and Deputy Speaker. We all make mistakes. Don’t we have politicians in Parliament with FIRs and criminal cases against them? 

Aware of the fact that some FIRs have also been lodged against them, the spiritual leaders look at each other in the hope of some silent support. But their extrospective silence is ruptured by the response of the MIB minister.

I want to ask my outside-the-parliament friend if the Opposition would survive without any freedom of creative expression? They should be grateful to the government for accommodating their whimsical narratives, especially those of their leader. For instance, vote chori is responsible for pollution; Indian democracy is under attack; and many such other statements. 

And as for my fellow-parliamentarian’s concern regarding cinematic freedom, I’d say that if our history books can have chapters on Mughal rulers, why can’t we have movies that glorify India? 

Thump, thump, thump, …

*****

The House is adjourned sine die. 
Vande Matram. 

*****

Good News: The Winter session of Parliament concluded on Friday, with the Lok Sabha recording 111% productivity and the Rajya Sabha seeing 121% productivity.
(Source: https://indianexpress.com/article/india/winter-session-ends-ls-sees-111-productivity-rs-121-10429676/)

*****

Shri Shri: What’s the AQI? I overheard this word during lunch break.
Shivguru: Well … uhhh … In the Parliamentary context, it refers to the Anger Quotient Index.

Image source: idiva-media.ilnmedia.com

Posted on by nikita

To be or not to be

woman walking on desert sand dunes at sunrise

With sincere apologies to Roxette.

Lay a wisp of hair
On my pillow
In the blanket
On the ground
I wake up lonely
This (h)air of silence
In the bedroom
And all around 

My latest pet peeve is finding strands of hair on my mattress, pillow and on every glistening white tile of my modest flat. In the morning, when I try to focus on inhaling and exhaling microbial air in different postures of Surya Namaskar, my unspectacled eyes fall on those valuable assets, strewn all around like the petals of flowers for the mehboob who won’t arrive. 

Some prefer to remain isolated as a single strand, seemingly enjoying solitude. In contrast, others tango in pairs, evoking envious looks from the watchers, and still others crowd and coil in groups, experiencing existential crises.

While Hastapadasan-ing and making a painful effort to touch the palms on the floor, I trap a strand or two under my square palm, forbidding them to escape into the thin air. I walk to the window in between my poses and discard them with a heavy heart and a lighter head. 

Mourning their departure till they disappear in the Brahmand they birthed from, I resume from where I left off. Moving ahead, the Dandasana pose helps me to have a bird’s-eye view of my surroundings, much like a hawk, trying to spot its prey. As soon as I can locate the tiny, silky bits, I go down to the floor in the Ashtanga pose and exhale vigorously through my mouth instead of my routinely used nostrils, driving them away for the time being. 

Since yoga has a reputation for bringing calmness to the body and mind, I would not want to tarnish its well-established local and global reputation. So, I have learnt to find a sliver of positivity in such a dire state of the thing of beauty, despite being stripped of the joy I once had. I happily tell myself that at least my hair hasn’t turned into fifty shades of grey yet, even when I’m pacing towards 50. 

With age, if I’m losing something, I’m also gaining something in return — experience and wisdom, validating Carl Jung’s idea of ‘individuation’. Of course, there are some visible and invisible (to others) changes in me, such as thinning hair, drier skin, weaker bone density, foggy memory, mood swings, hot flashes, and many other irritating symptoms. But I still feel excited like the batswoman who is one run short of getting a 50. The reason for this excitement is that I’m in the age slot (and I’m banking on my mom’s and nani’s genetics) when one can finally say tata bye-bye to the monthly trauma, which begins as early as adolescence.

From adolescence, willingly or unwillingly,  women prepare themselves to handle their periods and the cramps that never fail to accompany them. While some cultures celebrate menstruation, marking a girl’s first menstruation and her transitioning to womanhood, I would like to celebrate the end of it. Just because I feel it’s enough. Enough of the pain. Because hair is not the only thing I wait to lose with age. 

*****

He: I can’t feel, but I can see that you’re in pain.
She: Finally. Ty. 

To all the men
Happy International Men’s Day

Posted on by nikita

The pop-up power

It was a Sunday morning. My mom was reading a newspaper as part of her daily ritual after a typical guju breakfast. I sat beside her and started reading an online news article. While she was calmly leafing through the pages, without being distracted by the unanimated ads that filled most of the space in the paper, I was annoyingly busy hitting the little cross sign on the pop-up ads.

Pop-ups intrude on every nanosecond of your reading. The moment you try to read an article with the newly practiced concentration on your phone, a pesky ad, like the Jack in the box, suppressed for a long time, pops out, not frightening you as its job demands, but leaving you irritated. 

And the more frustrating aspect is the futile attempts to get rid of them, as they are interspersed throughout the article, much like eternal potholes on the roads, regardless of their size. The article text and the ads keep shifting since the browser, over-stuffed with other dynamic elements like images and video clips, takes time to complete loading, thereby disrupting your reading experience. In the bid to aim for the cross, when you click on the ad in utter exasperation, you are immediately transported to a new world with more information. 

Most of the time, these ads are none other than the ‘chosen ones’ by the new man-made God — the AI. Man proposes, AI exposes. He is the modern omniscient who knows your likes and dislikes. He is cognizant of your wants. He listens to you without you being aware of his presence. His intrusion into your life has almost become uncontrollable. 

Never summon a power you can’t control.

                                                              Yuval Noah Harari, in one of his interviews

Such unbridled power of technology reminds me of the celestial tree mentioned in the ancient India scriptures, though its symbolic significance varies in different religions. What AI is to the modern world, the Kalpavriksha — a wish-fulfilling tree — was to the people in ancient times. Their desires were granted at the snap of a finger — much like a click on your phone today. Who knows, those who developed AI may have drawn inspiration from yet another Indian belief and tradition —  just like many other Indian religious and cultural practices from the primordial world, which are often presented as scientific discoveries or inventions by the West, such as intermittent fasting and meditation.

Whoever is the controller — the Divine or the (divine:)) data — currently, India, Bharata, seems to be rejoicing in reclaiming its power as the guardian of the sone ki chidiya by attracting foreign investors through the Free Trade Agreement (FTA) with various countries, the latest being with the UK. (By the time my blog is published, there could be more on the list.) 

To the uninitiated, India’s economy had surpassed the UK in 2022 to become the world’s fifth-largest economy. Currently, in 2025, it has surpassed Japan, positioning itself as the fourth-largest economy, according to IMF.

See the irony of it all. The British people, who once almost caged the sone ki chidiya, are now seeking India’s help to boost their sluggish economy. 

The colonizers, who left their imprint on India’s social and cultural identity, are today impressed by India’s digital identity — the Aadhaar system. Prime Minister Starmer has shown interest in emulating such a model, modifying it to suit his country’s needs.

And the irony doesn’t end here. The Indian Air Force will soon be training fighter pilots in the UK. 

Undoubtedly, life is a full circle.

***

Click, click, click …poof, poof, poof … Mom, can I borrow the newspaper if you are done reading?

***

Me: What’s all this Gen Z protest about?
Friend: AI. American Interference. 

HAPPY DIWALI and A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR

Source of the image – https://shorturl.at/bv1XQ



Posted on by nikita

Chai pe charcha

street vendor making traditional indian chai

It wasn’t simply a conversation over a cup of tea, but the charcha was all about the amusing variety of ways people consume a cup of tea. 

For example, let me tell you about a friend of my cousin: he would arrange seven saucers on the dining table and pour tea into each of them. Then he would slurp it from every saucer, starting from 1 through 7. 

Instantly, this anecdote conjured up the image of Tom from my favourite Tom & Jerry cartoon in front of my unblinking eyes. Tom lapping his tongue, relishing what’s on a plate, before getting instigated by his all-time friend and foe, Jerry.

Just as their friendship is full of twists and turns, the real-world alliance of President Trump and his one-time dear friend, the Indian chaiwala, is also not immune to twists and turns. Lately, all his frequent taarif in honour of Mr. Modi seems to have turned into a virulent tariff. 

*****

Taarif karu kya uski jisne tumhe banaya…— an acquaintance who would empty the contents of the cup, the tea, into a thali and let the heat dissipate, thereby cooling it. By this time, she would get her daughter ready for school — dressing her in the school uniform, combing her hair, and preparing her lunchbox. Of course, she would know the difference between a tea that’s gone cold and iced tea. 

Just wondering, what she did with the tea scum? Would she just let it slip down her deprived throat, akin to kids who let bitter medicines glide down their resistant throat, or would she pinch it with her index finger and thumb, a neat pincer grasp, and discard the scum?

Surely, many of us must have come across people who remove tea scum and place it on the rim of a cup or on the side of a saucer. The sight of this waxy residue, stuck to the surface, is quite grotesque, like a ghostly skin on something once appealing. And if the vessels aren’t soaked or washed immediately, the scum gets as stubborn as it can, eventually bearing the brunt of the soapy scrub that is rubbed to and fro over it. 

*****

Scum. 

Sounds so derogatory. Like — ‘Hey! You scum! How dare you float on the surface of my tea! You thin, brown, good-for-nothing!’ 

Take a chill pill! I’m neither being racist nor disparaging. It’s just a vituperative outrage. Nowadays, the tu tadak and offensive language is considered normal, whether it’s satta, samaj, series, or cinema. Swearing seems to be the new vibe. 

Consciously or subconsciously, pejoratives are interwoven into many people’s day-to-day communication just like their staple food. It’s like daal-chawal for some, the absence of which is considered an incomplete meal; while, for others, it could be as soothing as an adruk ki chai.

*****

Chai adrukwali ho ya elaichiwali, no one dared to compete with a person I knew from my adolescent days when it came to drinking piping hot tea. For clarity’s sake, let’s assume that there were four people in a room who were to be served tea. This person would finish his tea before you reach the third person. We felt pity for the tender tissues of his mouth and tongue, and offered our condolences to them. But that’s how he enjoyed having his tea. 

And why just him? My aunt, who would always prefer things that are hot and happening, would cover her cup of tea with a tea coaster after pouring the first installment of tea into a saucer. Once she sips it, relishing every drop of it, she would pour the second portion into the saucer. That’s her style. 

It’s difficult to break the atomic habits she has built over the years, and why would anyone expect her to revise her preferences? After all, she doesn’t have to pay any GST on sipping the tea the way she wants. And, just as I decide what goes into my blog and what doesn’t, she also holds the fundamental right to determine what comes out of her cup.

*****

Journalist: SIR, how did you feel having tea with the ‘dead’ voters from Bihar?
Rahul: As dead as the Indian economy. 


Posted on by nikita

Fan, Fanatic, and Fantastic

Nowadays, my day starts with the banging of the hammer; the clanging of the rebars, sliding off a truck; the roaring machines; and the shouting of the labourers. Every other minor noise outside is lost in the din. But suddenly, one day, there was an eerie silence, as if everything came to a standstill.

In this unanticipated, random, peaceful hour, I stood up to switch on the fan. No sooner did I switch it on than the stillness in the atmosphere was punctuated by the squeaking of the fan. 

I was like, ‘Hey! I just got your capacitor changed so that you start working, and now you have found another way to seek my attention? It’s too much now.’

But, on a serious note, how much is too much? 

A whirring fan is just a small example from my day-to-day life, but what about the wife in Mumbai who made fantastic demands from her estranged husband of an 18-month-old marriage? A BMW, a luxury apartment, and ₹12 crore as part of alimony! 

Of course, there are some cases where alimony demands are genuine and a valid source of survival for a woman, especially when she is a homemaker, and when a woman is completely dependent on her husband. 

But this Mumbai divorce case in particular, and many recent divorce cases, where the wives have demanded huge alimony, give rise to debatable questions, like — where does genuine maintenance end and aspiration begin? Who draws the line between empowerment and entitlement? 

Some argue that some women play the victim card for the ease of a luxurious lifestyle, while others misuse the laws for women’s welfare, replacing them with official extortion from estranged husbands.

In such situations, how much is too much?

Even Mr. Trump, in his second presidential innings, appears to be portraying himself as a victim, assuming that America is being “ripped off” and “pillaged” by other nations in terms of trade. Caught between the dichotomy of being delusional about America’s economy and conscious of the fact that there’s neither peace nor prize for being a Nobel mediator between warring nations, the President has imposed unjustifiable tariffs on different countries — an unfair extortion at an international level?

For over four months, every night, he must have scratched his head, covered with blond hair —  yet again, a new colour, mulling over the question — How much tariff is too much tariff? And, every morning, for the same number of months, the leaders of different nations must have woken up to the fanatic ‘tweet, tweet’ notification sound. 

The twittering is still a pleasant sound, like music to the ears, reminding us of cute little sparrows, but the cooing and pooping of pigeons is slightly displeasing. At least to me. And apparently, such displeasure is not bound within the four walls of my house, but has entered the city of Mumbai as well. A dispute between the BMC and animal lovers has erupted in Dadar, regarding health concerns — BMC’s worry about the hazardous effects on human health due to the feathers and droppings of pigeons, and the protestors’ worry concerning the health of the pigeons of Kabutarkhana, who might starve to death if not timely fed. 

Again, how much is too much?

*****

Arjun: How much is too much?
Krishna: Parth, karm kar, phal ki chinta mat kar. 

Source of the image – https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ-6VOWXUYNmZ34qkOiRkZeXQCGPSaq6EN5CA&s

HAPPY JANMASHTAMI