Posted on by nikita

Ye tera ghar ye mera ghar …

view of hillside buildings in shimla

One … two … three … four … the number reached almost twenty-five — almost twenty-five iron nails, used in construction. The nails I was busy picking up with a fridge magnet tied by a fragile sewing thread to one end of a rod. Given the size of my hands — jo kanoon ke haath jitne lambe nahi hain — it was difficult to grab them by bending over the washing area parapet. 

Lo and behold! There weren’t just nails. At the far end, there was a well-woven pacca house, constructed with pieces of rusty binding wire. I didn’t even get a whiff of this plan. It was built right under my nose, under the AC unit. No loose threads, no twigs, no leaves. Nothing. A sheer example of Vikshit Bharat. 

Apparently, without my knowledge, the grey-winged couple, who kept flying around the parapet, possibly scanning the place, finalized one of the chhajjas of my rented flat to build their nest. Lucky them! Neither do they need any legal papers nor any paper money to officiate over any territory, unlike many of us, who spend most of our lives saving money to buy a ghar that could be called mera. 

Like a gardener checking for weeds, the pigeons identified a seemingly safe spot and unanimously decided to lay the foundation of their sweet home. While they had already hammered the nail without much ado, I frantically kept trying to shoo them away by throwing water, only to fail. To my soft ears, their constant gutargoo began to sound like that duet song by Jagjit Singh and Chitra, Ye tera ghar ye mera ghar … 

The nest is not a problem; it is the squalor and the stench that accompany it. 

Every time I tried to dismantle the wires and nails with the same rod, these winged animals would work with more perseverance to assemble them. It seemed that every other day, we were testing each other’s patience and will. Neither of us was ready to give up like Putin and Zelenskyy, who are still at war even after 4 years. (This time I would Epstein from drawing a comparison with Mr Trump.)

But … but … but … The more you try to resist something or someone, the higher the possibility that you will fall for the same person or thing. And I’m as human as you, my readers. 

That’s the sole reason for me to keep coming back to the adamant and obdurate Mr Trump, who has the gumption to denigrate the Supreme Court justices on social media, calling them ‘Fools’ and “Lapdogs’, because for him, what matters is simply bringing back the era of MAGA — Make America Great Again. That’s what he often claims. But isn’t America still the most powerful country?

Is it the dignity of and duty towards the White House he’s worried about, or the profitability of his own house? Quite a debatable question.

But there can’t be any debate on the recent Taliban law regarding the legalization of domestic violence against women and girls, with terms and conditions applied — no broken bones and no open wounds. Sadly, these women are not even safe in their own homes. While world leaders seem to have turned a blind eye to this inhuman law, all eyes were turned on the robotic dog, or Robodog — a Chinese product passed off as Indian —  at the AI Summit back home. Undoubtedly, Indians are jugaadu in every which way. Or maybe, even today, the management of the Galgotia University (I like the name:)) believes in the 1950s Nehruvian slogan — Hindi-Chini Bhai Bhai.

Undoubtedly, Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam — the world is one family — is a good concept to practise, but not at the cost of maligning India’s rising fame. Professor Neha Singh’s fluttering responses to the media about the origin of the Robodog brought me back to the persistent fluttering of pigeons, which are also a part of the concept of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam. 

I understand that as a part of this kutumb, I need to make more attempts to be empathetic. So, keeping my fingers crossed, I hope these pigeons will find a better place to build a ghar for themselves. 

They just need a good broker.

*****

RaGa: Ma, what happened?
Ma: Son, it’s time for Ghar Wapsi. 

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

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

Reborn — The X-factor

‘Why don’t you buy a pet?’ comes one recommendation. 

Pets are adorable, but I prefer to be at arm’s length from pets and pethood.

‘Why don’t you adopt a child?’ That’s another.

At that moment, all I could hear in my mind’s ears was the beautiful song from the movie ‘Maachis’ — Chhod aaye hum woh galiyan … Gone are the days of potty training, teething troubles, and midnight burping. At the menopausal stage, managing my moods is somewhat challenging for me — how do I summon the elon to babysit a child as the trolled President Mr. Trump unintentionally did at the Oval Office? 

While Father Musk, an X-DOGE, was addressing the reporters regarding the scope of the Department of Government Efficiency work, Grandpa Trump was unexpectedly seen babysitting Musk’s X. Mind you, it’s not an Ex, it’s just X. Confusing naming trends, much like the language itself. After all, names are born out of a language.

The world is not unknown of the fact that Elon Musk takes his little X to almost every meeting, disregarding criticism — is it a gesture of parenthood or for creating some public perceptions? Similarly, many women across Brazil and the UAE are spotted taking ‘Reborn Dolls’ to different places, making me wonder for a nanosecond — How about adopting a reborn doll?

For those who are unaware, these dolls are gaining attention globally due to their life-like realism and intricate craftsmanship. A hobby turned into a million-dollar business for many craftsmen, and an adorable collection for art lovers. These dolls have also proven therapeutic benefits for women who struggle with infertility or infant loss.

Sifting through different options and on conscious pondering, I realize that I can’t adapt myself to adopt either a pet, a child, or even a reborn doll. I ain’t that adept. 

And seemingly neither is the LOP in India. Considering the current political status of the INDI alliance, they need to be adept enough to Modi-fy their weak and outdated narratives  — not just with slogans, but with substance — or it might cost the party more senior leaders (one could be Mr. Shashi Tharoor) who appear to be modi-fying themselves. The party may want to learn a different RaGa and reinvent itself from its threadbare political structure. It needs to become more realistic in its approach to fill the void of a strong opposition in a democratic nation, akin to the hyper-realistic reborn dolls, which fill the void in the lives of many women across the globe. 

Because Modi — a political figure who consistently and effectively redesigns his vision for a new India, for better or for worse? — doesn’t just believe in surgical strikes when needed, he also has the acumen to strike the spiritual chord of global citizens, as seen in his introduction of the Indian practice of yoga on the Global stage. From local to global — a shared vision for a healthier and more conscious world. 

Inspired by such initiatives, I decided to incorporate a few more yogic postures into my simple exercise routine, and in no time, the universe conspired to help me achieve it. In a couple of days, a good friend of mine shared information about an online yoga session. My third eye, meditatively trained to remain alert, immediately captured the message of the universe. Without much ado, I registered myself for the session. And in a couple of days, in harmony, my body and mind — which are not mine as per the spiritual concept of Sadhguru —  revealed to me that my not-so-younger tissues and muscles need to be reborn. 

All said and done, aren’t we all trying to reborn ourselves in one way or another? Be it at a personal, professional, or spiritual level.

*****

Friend: If given a chance, what would you want to be reborn as?
Me: The grass in my garden is sufficiently green.