Noel Ellis's Official Blog

I wield the pen to explore the vastness of the human mind

Category: PEOPLE

ELECTION TIME IN PAKISTAN

 

 

ELECTION TIME IN PAKISTAN

 

Pakistan has been the focal point for India in all its activities related to military and international diplomacy since independence. If we could have had some understanding to live in peace, our countries instead of wars would have made lots of progress. Major chunk of our resources & funds are diverted towards Pak sponsored insurgency in J&K. The additional security forces which have to be deployed to keep that area sanitised are at what cost. Money which is pumped to keep that state running is not hidden either. Unnecessary body bag count of soldiers is increasing and the futility of Kashmiri graveyards getting filled needs to be understood.

Had there been political stability in J&K we would have definitely seen jannat by now. Had New Delhi tackled the Paki game plan befittingly, things would have been different? Actually, had we been serious about sorting this issue, we would have saved our exchequer of millions. There is still time and a ray of hope. Let us bring stability on our side of the border half the things will fall into place. Military is always there to assist the nation and J&K in particular.

One thing that comes to my mind is the “political instability” in Pakistan. It is so prominent today yet still they are able to derail and destabilise the Indian idea of Kashmir. Nawaz Sharif has now fielded his daughter Mariam to contest the forth coming elections. Will she deliver, my fingers are crossed. Bilawal is just a scapegoat. Imran Khan is growing old by the day and his chances are 50-50 this time. Gen Musharraf has withdrawn from the political scene as he knows that it is better to stay away before he is executed for treason. It is curtains down for him.

I was just thinking of another political “budding star” called Hafiz Saeed’s (HS); instead of gunning for his life, let us support him to become the PM of Pakistan. Pakistan as a country is imploding under all kinds of pressures; he will help speed up the process. Gareebi and gurbat are the buzz words for that nation. Let this man come and hasten their disintegration. We know his mindset towards India so we need to be prepared. Let their military takeover, we know how to deal with enemies then.

If HS can be the messiah for Pak, I think we should let him be. Before he will sort out India, China will sort Pak. I was listening to various panel discussion on You Tube about the CPEC and the way the Chinese are changing their demography at a very fast pace. Pakis are providing security to the Chinese to construct this project on their land. Pak has taken a loan from them & are not capable to pay even a portion of the interest back. Chinese are thrusting outdated technology and old power plants along this road. China ensures that only they shall supply coal for power. Let Hafiz Saeed sort the Chinese and the Baluchi’s out, if he can. What will his military eat to save the country from the debt trap then? “Grass”, which Bhutto promised, they will eat to keep India bleeding?

As far as HS support to various jehadi’s is concerned, yes that would be our worry. Our security deployment and policy should flow from that. We also need to sort out our noise makers like Hurriat. Let us offer their services to Hafiz Saeed, that here we present to you people who are hell bent on disintegrating our Kashmir. Take them in your fold and give them Azadi, while we stabilize Kashmir alongside. If love is what Kashmiri’s want, let us give it to them. If affection will help ease their pain let’s give it to them. If they need to work to earn a living and prosper, let us provide them opportunities all over India. For that they have to keep an open mind and move out of the valley.

Let us give Kashmiri people the opportunity to use their natural wealth & encourage tourism. Sustenance on subsidy and sarkari naukri’s is no solution. Youth of Kashmir have to go out to work and not survive on stone pelting money. Set your agenda for peace dear people and implement it. Once peace is restored, rest won’t be an issue. Sitting at home and thinking anti India wont resolve anything. Give peace a chance. No harm giving it a try, prosperity will automatically come.

Let me assure our Kashmiri friends, if you still don’t see the Paki bluff then things will keep worsening. The world knows that in Pak there is only corruption, adulteration, mismanagement, mis-governance, loot and instability besides they blatantly lie too. They themselves are not clear about the vision of their country. Can HS and gang absorb you people to their folds and give you what you dream of? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND
© Noel Ellis

IRRITANT AND MILITANT

 

 

see url IRRITANT AND MILITANT

watch  

The Security Forces while serving in Militant prone areas are always worried about their activities. Operations always keep you on tenterhooks. In the corporate world the word militant is replaced by person called an irritant. You may know many who fit in such description, so read on.

There are a lot of similarities between the two. To cope with both is a big challenge. At least the forces go through their paces of training how to counter militants but in the corporate, all training falls flat in dealing with such characters, as they are even more unpredictable than militants.

They wear the same dress. They mix with the crowd. From their attire one can never make out who is a militant or an irritant. They will be well versed with the language of the area & blend with the population. Once they get their foot hold they start showing their true colours.

Both don’t carry arms openly. Militants cache their arms and ammunition at a secret hiding places. Irritants maintain a black diary where he notes down various things which he will quote later to put you down. Like the militants have their informers these irritants also develop informers and live off them and their information.

Militants gather local support by coercion and intimidation. Irritant gathers support by showing authority and pressurising subordinates of dire consequences in appraisal. Who will want to forego his increment by being in the bad books of this specie?

Militants and the irritants keep popping up at regular intervals & keep everyone on their toes. This is also done to show their relevance. They will do some action at an unexpected place at an unexpected time to overturn the applecart. The militant causes physical casualties and the irritant causes deep mental casualties.

Both these creatures work on a kind of a spy network. They will work an individual against the other in such a subtle manner that they extract out information and pit people against each other. One clue, one lead, one information is enough to start their intimidation process. They hit when one is vulnerable.

The resultant of both the cases is physical and mental fatigue. People get into thinking mode how to tackle both these devils. The forces go on an all out war but in a corporate most of the people go in for all out submission. They hardly have a choice.

In a village if you don’t tow the militant’s line you are in for trouble, same is the case of the irritant. You keep him in good books, well entertained; amused and happy, chances are you won’t face his ire. You do the opposite then heavens fall on earth.

Damage a militant can do is quite a bit. This silent killer called irritant does even more. They both don’t listen to logic as they are already brainwashed and have a fixed agenda. Militants keep brainwashing people to join their ranks for a pair of shoes and some money as compensation. The irritants brainwash you for a “carrot”. You become a “Gulaam” (slave).  Irritant loves to hear his slave say “three bags full sir”.

Generally, the irritant is a kind of character who only wants to project his image. Everything is through him. Egos are hurt if he comes to know he has been bypassed even for routine matters. He will remain the power centre & make sure that you never develop. He can make your life miserable.

Irritants pass the buck and the blame immediately. It is called “fixing” people. Militants on the other hand cannot do so as they don’t have any one else to blame. They pass the pressure immediately down below. Irritants live with a sarcastic smile & feed things to their superiors to gain brownie points. They can harass for one day leave. Irritants are nasty chaps seriously.

If there are militants around, life is hell and if there are irritants around life becomes bloody hell. At least the forces know that they will face them for a particular time but one has to really be thick skinned to stay in the organisation to continue bearing the brunt of irritants.

The biggest weapon with the irritant is called “Mail”. Worst is a “memorandum”. He will keep poking you, provoking you, reminding you, noting and highlighting your mistakes without giving you any help and support. He will keep squeezing your manpower and resources to bring you to a breaking point. Moment you retaliate it is curtains down for you. You will be rebuked and humiliated very politely and subtly, even asked to “show cause” or even asked to leave.

In my considered view, it is easy to fight a militant. An encounter with the irritant is way too tough to handle. The corporate has to understand that the white and blue collared irritants are causing a lot of damage on the quiet. We the veterans who generally are in senior positions can help by contributing positively. Is it possible? I wonder!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

KASHMIR NEEDS A DIFFERENT MEDICINE

 

 

 

Altre forme di pagamento sono PayPal iqoptioncom NETeller, WebMoney e Moneybookers, così come i bonifici bancari.. KASHMIR NEEDS A DIFFERENT MEDICINE

Lyrica cheap price  

It took Delhi so long to identify why things were going wrong in Kashmir. “Der aye durust aye” is an old adage which fits in most appropriately. Now that der has been done the requirement is of durusti to be done. There is another one which says “a stitch in time saves nine”. We missed out stitching in time and thus lost those nine-nine-nine-nine soldiers and more. Nevertheless, it isn’t too little too late either. The root cause has been correctly identified and shown the door. Now is the time to do things differently.

Time now is ripe to find the right “man” (Governor) for this job. There are people who have extensively traveled and served in the valley and are capable to fit in the chair. They know the roots of this issue and can contribute positively once appointed at the helm of affairs.

Let me be clear, Governor’s rule is also part of democracy. Unlike Pakistan where the military just takes over. Here we have a method in the madness. The new Governor should be from the forces is my view. This man will have the correct overview, will be familiar with the terrain, routes of ingress and egress, intricacies, sensitivities, deployment, grids, intelligence set ups, gaps in information flow, military tactics, command and control set ups, internal rivalries, weakness and strengths besides having an analytical mind free from dirty politics.

The President of India should give one clear order to the Governor, “sort out Kashmir”. If the aim is clear, the rest can worked out. No ifs and buts please. Additional resources required for such a task can be placed at his disposal. The President should also lay out clear orders to the military, being the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces that sort out Pakistan. At least during the period when the Governor is internally sorting things out, Pakis dare not look this side. Hit them hundred times harder if they violate the terms. Keep talking to them but let them walk the talk. Shake them up if required till they beg for peace.

Militants and their supporters should not be spared either. Let these people now understand that if you have decided to stay in the pond then you cannot make the alligator your enemy. The security forces have to be ruthless now. The stooges of Pakistan need to be quarantined and moved out of the valley. They shall no more be considered as citizens of India. Put them in the clink and let them have no communication with the world.

Once situation gets under control then is the time to appoint new administrators to look into various ministries and departments. Let the Governor pick up his people who would be best suited for such jobs. No politicians & bureaucrats or political interference please. Totally apolitical people are the need of the hour to sort out the rot by eliminating what is wrong and why. Their focus has to be what needs to be done and how? They will give out the road map with time lines with people in charge and accountable. Every man & every Rupee needs to be accounted for.

We have experimented with Kashmir far too long. The concoction we made only produced germs where as we were supposed to finish the filth but disease kept spreading. Our doctors were either not interested or didn’t understand the pulse of what was happening. The miracle never happened. Now is the chance to firstly disinfect our land, secondly, change the hospital administration and pick up the best of doctors and nurses along with the latest gadgetry. Let us give Kashmir a complete face lift.

People will shoot me down for being radical, suggesting the undoable, unheard of & idiotic things. I say when politics and politicians have failed why not try something different. I have seen childless couples go to many babas, mazars, neem hakims. They go to churches, temples; gurudwara’s and ask mannats, even wear a taviz for that one wish. The pressure on them is so much that they grab anything suggested to them. When all fails then they go for IVF and many succeed. So why not try something untraditional and unconventional to get rid of the cancer affecting Kashmir. Where there is a will there is a way. However, will of the Kashmiri people is lacking.

Kashmir is our beloved and we have to try alternate medicines. Political, slow acting medicine has been a complete failure of kinds. Now is a window of Governor’s medicine. No harm trying it. Two things can happen, one is failure but why be pessimistic, let’s be optimistic that we will definitely succeed. Are the decision makers willing to take a bitter pill as I suggest? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR

LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR

 

Red Land and blue land are two neighbouring states, is generally the opening narrative of any Army exercise. When it comes to more than two “naughty” neighbours then we refer them as Nark and Chandal. No need to guess who is who. One is burning from within and the other engages with us like a devil. India keeps trying to tackle them but hasn’t been very successful till date.

Same is the case in the neighbourhood of Swarg. On one side I have Nark and the other side the chandals. Both are friendly and diplomatic and say “Namaste bhai saab” but both are jealous and envious of the hard work we have put in the garden and our life style.

The difference between Swarg and them is that we are a land of traditions, sabhyata, sanskar and grooming in the best of manners and etiquettes from the best of institutions. They are raw, crude, rusty, a little uncouth, loud mouthed yellers who incite you to pick up a fight for every small little thing. India just ignores them and moves on.

The compliment I got on buying my bike was bhai saab aap ne nai “fatfatti” li hai. Hello madam hawa ane do. I controlled and counted till ten and said to myself bhabhi ji, my bike goes dug dug dug dug and not pit pit pit pit pittrrrrrrrr like yours. How dare you call it what you called it! This was while we were enjoying our evening cup of tea in the garden. You think I would have given mithai for such a compliment. Well, with a heavy heart I did, even India-Pakistan exchange sweets on happy occasions.

The other country could not be left far behind. This is how the parleys went. Actually Bhaisaab hum bhi motorcycle khareedne hi wale the, par mere Mister ko scooty pasand hai. Fir main bhi chala leti hun so humne idea drop kar diya. I kept waiting for some further inputs like congratulations on your new purchase but the only thing I registered was padosi hone ki pahli mithai to banti hai. I went inside and told my daughter poora dabba pakra de, kahin nazar na laga de meri bike ko.

This neighbour keeps doing the dhoklam thing once in a while. We have a mango tree in our back yard and it was laden with fruit this year & half the branches over hang on their terrace. The fruit was hanging so low that we could touch it. I requested our horticulture people to pluck the fruit. They told us Sir, there is about two to three weeks time for them to ripen so we waited. One fine Sunday we went to Alibaug and on return all mangoes were gone till where her bamboo could reach. To kill her guilt she sent about a dozen across. We gave it to our safaiwala. The icing on the cake was when our people came they plucked out more than four buckets full in the first go and same number after another twenty days. We distributed them to the world, not them. Khundak main.

I have these neat rows of bricks geru chunaed nicely. This lady will place her foot on one of the bricks as if asserting her dominance and shake it till it gets up stuck. Same happens in case of a common water tap. They know that every evening after office we water our plants. They will come and ghusao their pipe in it just before our time. We didn’t react. We waited how long one can water their lawn. Then feeling guilty she said, bhai saab lawn main pani dena tha kya, still wondering why we have not reacted or requested her for our turn. This thing continued for a week, we just didn’t react. Now she has lost interest in watering her plants.

The story doesn’t end here. The amount of surveillance done on us is fantastic. Can you guess who their spies are? If there is a bunch of slippers lying outside, people go on a vigil as to what is the occasion. Conversations are over heard by taking positions like snipers in windows. Eavesdropping is routine. Anybody visiting our place has to go through their personal scrutiny as if the Dalai Lama has visited Arunachal.

God bless both my neighbouring countries. Their frustration levels have reached such a peak that their fatfaties are now backfiring. They need to service their minds and mentality or else this guessing game will kill them. I and my wife enjoy this cold war. We sit on our bike, give them the biggest smile and wish them the time of the day. I wave at both these “Bhabhi jis” but I avoid giving them a flying kiss for obvious reasons and go dug dug dug dug dug dug dug dug………………………

JAI HIND
© Noel Ellis

PAKISTAN MUKT BHARAT

 

 

 

http://peopletrans.com.au/bioddf/vuowe/111 PAKISTAN MUKT BHARAT

 

Four brave hearts walk this earth no more due to the unprovoked firing by Pak on a bunker repair party. Four more will never walk straight as they have been injured & maimed. Living with a splinter or a gunshot wound is so bloody painful. I have seen people scream at the sight of an injection; imagine a shell splinter passing through your guts for no fault of yours. The trauma after the incident, the sleepless nights hoping to somehow ward away that memory of that moment when you were hit can never be understood by any politician or bureaucrat. The moment which takes away a chunk of your flesh and bone would never allow anyone to be his usual self.

I know many people who have lost some part of their body in action with the enemy. They all project a brave face. They may set examples for many to emulate and motivate them by their courage and determination but I know deep inside they burn. They burn to take revenge of that moment which became their life changing moment. The apathy of our government traumatises further & can never be factored in. That pains even more. To fight on paper is far more difficult than to fight in the battle field. These brave men never reveal their inner self. The hurt inside is like an etching on stone. That scar mark will only perish when the soldier finally bids adieu. How many more such marks are acceptable to our country and countrymen?

Once you are sent back home in a six feet by three feet by three feet box draped in the tri-colour, it doesn’t matter. You have done your time in hell. The wailing will die down and the tears will dry but life has to go on. Even the animal in the house is shattered as understands that something unusual has happened. People on the other side of the border do not. Someday we have to do a tit for tat. The scale of damage to the other side should be “tit cubed”. Three times more number of mothers should wail to understand the pain of an Indian soldier’s family. It sounds cruel, so be it.

Many of the injured will be boarded out unceremoniously and face a double whammy. “Arey bunker hi to bana rahe the”, would be the underlying statement. Moment you are found unfit; you would be shown the door. Had the enemy been shooting at you, you would have reacted according to “Seekha hua Tariqa”. When your own people start to shoot you down, you don’t know what to do. Now reality strikes you, when you can’t even give a thumb impression as your thumbs were left in the battle field.

For the bureaucrat you would be just a case study for a new policy. For a politician a vote less makes no difference. For them you are just another “shaheed” for a wreath to be laid on. The neta may promise something which in that moment your family may not be in a position to assimilate. The lady starts a new battle of survival. The Bureaucrat moves on posting, politician changes his party. Fresh soldiers are posted to face the wrath of the same enemy again as cannon fodder.

Shelling & casualties have become a daily routine. It is funny to see media chaps trying to reach places where firing is taking place. The “natak” of puffing and panting shown on TV is to safeguard his naukri. Smoke emanating from jungles and bunkers being destroyed is shown as a fiction movie. Once report is submitted, the focus changes to “man ki baat” far away from the action scene. One more breaking news story bites the dust. One more soldier turns to dust.

The policy of a cheek out every time, an olive branch and a white flag held in each hand will leave more people in trauma. Policy on how to collect taxes is well know but policy how to give a befitting reply to the enemy is yet to be drafted it seems. The world laughs at us for inaction while the Government makes a mockery of a soldier’s life as elections are an electoral “battle” which matter more to them. They use “Ran neeti” for war of a political kind not war to sort out the enemy. Ironic!

Why can’t the government start a campaign called Pakistan Mukt Bharat? No bloody Paki or his stooges dare to venture on our territory. Let us then obliterate these devils; consequences will be for many generations to see. Let us plaster them with an uninterrupted and uninterruptible shelling & fireworks display this Eid. Will our leaders unite for once and feel the pain of every soldier who has given his today for India’s tomorrow? I wonder!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

SAVING MOTHER FROM PLASTIC SMILES

go to site SAVING MOTHER FROM PLASTIC SMILES

cheapest metformin available online  

I was watching a programme on environment day and saw mountains of plastic all over the world. Statistics were alarming. Suffice to say, no one would have ever thought that it would reach such monstrous proportions over the years and threaten our very existence.

Like a ritual every year we too plant trees in our company on this day. Pits were dug and a water sprinkler made of “plastic” is kept handy for the ceremony. Lot of discussion on one time use plastics & their harmful effects on health and environment took place. I just pointed out that the bag in which the sapling has been sprouted is also “one time use” black colour plastic. There was a furore and instructions were passed that next year we will bring saplings in gunny bags only.

Then there was a photo op with “plastic smiles” and customary distribution of “peras”. A worker quickly pulled out a box of sweets from a “plastic carry bag”, threw it on the road side and wrestled with the thin cling film over the box. He tore it off and threw it at the same place. Everyone thanked the organiser & started walking off. Concern for environment also got over moment the sweet was in the mouth. I waited and picked up bits and pieces of plastic strewn and deposited them in a dust bin. People said why you do it; the safaiwala is paid to do it. I plastically smiled and walked off.

Last month, it was talk of our town that state government will come very heavily on plastic carry bags. They are called “PISHVI” in this part of the country. The rumour around was that anyone carrying a plastic bag will be fined 5000/- irrespective from where he got his hands on it from. Panic struck and suddenly cloth bags were on sale. They charged 10 rupees extra for it. Today, all kinds of plastic carry bags are back in vogue in all shapes and sizes.

I pass by an adivasi colony on my way to office every day. I see small boys and girls waiting to cross the road with one cup of tea “parcelled” in a pishvi from the local tea shop. Another child is holding 20 ml plastic milk sachets. Sometimes, I find them holding the same amount of cooking oil. They buy what they need and as much they can afford. How do they carry those small quantities? Pishvi is the only answer.

This Sunday we went to the beach. It was good to see lot of hustle and bustle and tourists’ thronging that place. It’s a pity that no one really cared for the environment. People had thrown plastic bags all over. Mineral water bottles were bobbing up and down with the waves giving such a shabby look. Cans of beer and empty plastic liquor bottles were strewn all over the place.

One fine day we will get a call from the Collector’s office, let’s do Swach-Bharat. T-shirts and caps will be given; school children will be involved with media coverage and press releases. The contractor will lift up the garbage and dump it in the mangroves on the other side. Garbage is actually never cleared; it is transferred from here to there.

This reminds me of the illegal dumping going on for landfills. All debris of construction sites and garbage of the village is brought and dumped at a particular place. This happens under the eyes of God as there is a temple next to the dump plus under the local Gods, as a Police Thana and Customs office isn’t very far. Dumping is known to everyone, police doesn’t get involved as it is matter of the gram panchayat. Customs department are meant for bigger things and life goes on. It may not be long when a new shopping or housing complex comes up in that area.

Worst is that when someone lights that garbage up. If you have your windows rolled down to enjoy the surroundings and fresh air, the whiff that will hit your nostril with that stinky smoke will get onto your brain. The whole impression of the place is turned upside down in that one second when the smoke fills your lungs.

Environmentalists’ are doing their bit I am sure but the biggest dilemma they face is when they visit a wash room and can’t decide whether he should save water or save paper.

Be that as it may. I as a citizen will do my bit for “my mother”. I am worried about those people who have no idea on the damage a pishvi can do. Then there are those who know about it but just don’t care. For them this is Sarkar’s job. Can we stop those “plastic smiles” and get down to save mother earth? I wonder!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

SUNDAY SHOPPING

binära optioner trading SUNDAY SHOPPING

source url  

Sunday is our weekly shopping day. It is the same old routine. Find parking for your car. I prefer the scooter as it is easy to manoeuvre. Hand over a few shoes and sandals to the “ dating sites san francisco bay area Mochi” (cobbler). Yes one odd piece you find shearing off and going to get one from Bombay is not worth the petrol to be burnt.  Our man Friday is such a smiley chap and will wish you with so much of warmth that I can’t help but shaking his hand every time we use his services. He will be waiting patiently even though it would be beyond his duty hours and will also tell you that probably we did not notice that the other shoe too needed a mend. The other day it was raining heavily. We had to get my daughters school shoes repaired and we got late, he knew tomorrow she has to go to school, he waited for us. Advantages of a small place I must say.

Next stop is our sabzi-wala. One of his workers is “Walter”. I love to see him glow with excitement seeing me and my wife. He will wish us the loudest good evening and then speak only in Marathi. By now he knows what we prefer. They generally hand over a basket to you to select your vegetables. I do it the other way, I tell him to do it for me. This way I ensure I will not get a dressing down from my wife as I still have no idea which enter site bhopla (kaddu/pumpkin) is good and which follow link bhindi (okra) is “ Kauli” (tender) even after close to thirty years of marriage.

I was noticing how people pick up tomatoes. They will pick up one and drop it. Pick up the second one press it, look around it and drop it, pick the third one up and put it in their basket and this happens to more than twenty they need. I kept noticing that how long that one particular tomato is not picked up. I was amazed that the ones that I had fixed my eyes on were picked up by the next lady. This lady also dropped quite a few and picked up the ones dropped by the previous chap. The sabzi-wala puts up a huge basket full; one actually is confused as to what to pick up and what to drop. As the basket empties out, he doesn’t replace or refill them. A person who needs them will have to pick up from what is placed in front of you. Smart, I would say.

Then I came across one guy not taking off his helmet. He was just pointing out to Walter to weigh what he wants. Soon I realised he had his mobile stuck inside his helmet and was hands free of sorts. We Indians have a jugad (improvise) for everything. Then I found one fellow with his helmet’s face guard over his forehead.  That too was for a purpose. The pan masala he was chewing and the mixture which accumulates inside the mouth has to be spit out.  I asked him then why do you wear it, he said traffic police.

My macchiwali is very smart. She will shout uncle surmai sasti ho gai hai (Fish has become cheap). So even if you don’t want to buy it you get carried away. She will take out a small one and say pandrah shau 1500. You look at her and are about to turn back she says shaat shay pannas 750. You show two fingers meaning 200, now she looks back as if to say, what nonsense you are talking man. I realised two things if you get into a conversation with them you will not be able to wriggle out. Second is become “besharam” (shameless) and haggle and haggle till cows come home. Moment you start become a bara saab you will not know when she has stripped you.

After all this shopping is generally my haircut time. The head massage after that is the attraction. The ladies I leave at a general store to pick up their shampoos and lipsticks.  I don’t know how these barbers know which hair to cut. I find him snipping at the same place for ages neglecting the rest of the circumference. He always asks me “Chota karun” (shall I cut them short). In the first thirty seconds he would have cleared the head and it takes him the next ten minutes to find hair and keep snipping.

I remember going to a saloon in Bombay, that chap took an hour to snip off what my barber does in ten minutes. The only thing was that he used about 11 types of scissors and shavers. Another thing I noticed in our desi barbers. Once they have snipped some hair, they continue doing the sniping action behind your head in thin air. Why they do it, I will have to research. The difference between my barber and the saloon wala nai was 450 bucks. My nai does a better job any day and gives me a head massage free. The saloon chap will charge me a fortune.

Be that as it may, small little things and personal touch matters. My daughter keeps asking me that dad you have friends all over. The auto wala, the sabji wala, the chana-mufali wala, the chicken wala, macchiwali (I call her my girl friend) even the cobbler and the barber greet you so nicely. I tell her yes beta, it is nice to know them too as they do very important jobs. It is our duty to treat them with dignity and show respect. Will my daughter understand the importance of these people, I wonder!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

CRIMINALS AMONGST US

[ninja_form id=1]The name “A” does not strike a chord with me but as I read and see news coverage; I feel a sense of belongingness towards her as if she was my daughter. Today, my guts churn when I hear her name because people of this nation have turned into “Darinda’s”. I feel helpless that I could do nothing to save her. I clench my teeth in disgust to see the culprits roam alive. I wish they would have thought about their own daughters before drugging and hurting this angel, all of eight years. Definitely, morality has died in them; humanity has no value for them. Insanity has made way into their psyche. Well, heaven and hell is here only, the little one is in heaven but these B’s need to be in hell today.

Nirbahya’s (N) case is still fresh. The scars and wounds are yet to heal. Those culprits too roam free. Today I heard, another girl has been raped & destroyed mentally and physically in Surat?  Rape cases are just figures to be rattled out as a statistic in the parliament. All “Kotwali’s” maintain a crime chart. They maintain a rape case graph displayed on their notice board. The reality is that the numbers of reported rape cases are on the decline, as the mental rape done by the police to the girl and her family dissuades them to report. Rapes can be done in police stations by “wardi wala goondas” too.

The PM can’t do justice. He says there are enough laws. The CM can’t do justice, the DC and SP can’t do justice. The beat constable can’t do justice. Courts delay justice and take their own sweet time.  They want a witness for a rape! My foot!  CM says that he has suspended a few people. The DC says that his district is too big to handle, the SP says he doesn’t have enough man power. The beat constable says that no one has reported any incident, after all someone needs to lodge an FIR. My second foot! When the citizen is asked what should be done, they say hang the rapist in public but when asked to co-operate, everyone slams their door as if nothing happened. The whole cycle then keeps repeating itself. Asifa’s keep perishing.

I will avoid politicians and politics; however, ministers do discuss what the previous governments did not do and what they have done in the limited time they had. Nehru and Gandhi are always going to be the ones responsible for the condition of the nation that exists today. No one will talk about the deteriorating moral systems. No one will talk about intolerance & hate crimes. No one will talk about citizen safety. No one will talk about how to make our policing strong. Every politician has his own agenda, get elected, make some noise, become a minister, perks and privileges’ galore, make big money, dharna, bandhs and when it comes to brass-tacks they hide behind the petticoat of our justice system.

Rape has raised its head to such an extent that it is becoming more of a prestige issue for some. What do the dastards want to prove by doing this heinous crime should be the focus? As it is the common citizen is afraid of mafias & goondaism. I as a citizen am happy if nothing happens to me and my family. If it happens in my neighbourhood I will definitely go and pay my respects and condolences. If it happens in some other city or state, the first thing which comes to the tongue is “bach gaye” but I will not do anything to help the state machinery or my fellow citizen.

I am saddened to my very inside for all the A’s. I shiver at the very thought of it. I pray for her soul and her parents. I also pray that at least once we should have quick justice like in Saudi Arabia. One man court, verdict-guilty, criminal taken to the city square, firing squad prepares the place, order given to fire, criminal shot in the head and finished, he is hanged on a boom till evening for all to witness. Period!

Issue here is that the criminal will be finished but the crime will still remain. When will be able to control that criminal instinct of future rapists? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

PM ON FAST

[ninja_form id=1]Gone are the days when Gandhi ji used to go on a fast and the world used to get shaken up. I think the British gave up because his fast was a more deadly weapon then any gun. PM Sahib decided to do the same. He is on a fast as a mark of protest because our representatives stalled all work in our “Gole Market”. It appeared more like a “Gole Macchi Market”. The basic decorum and the discipline of the august houses suddenly evaporated into thin air. PM Sahib must be in a terribly angry mood to take this action. Indeed it is very unfortunate for India but who cares.

I remember we used to ask the Adjutant, how is the bosses’ mood? Last minute check used to be with the COs runner, if he nodded his head straight, then you had a chance to put across your argument. If he nodded sideways meant hell is going to break loose. One entered the COs office at one’s own risk. Many times if you were called, you meekly asked the adjutant Sir, what is the agenda? His simple answer used to be “Danda”. There was no use for any guess about your condition when you came out. A good adjutant used to keep a chilled glass of nimbu pani in summers or a hot cup of tea in winters ready, knowing the aftermath of the firing you got.

Imagine if PM saab is in a foul mood and tells his secretary to call a few ministers to his office. Finance Minister, asking for a chilled nimbu pani “in winters”, holding a shredded noting sheet of a few lakh crores which the PM just tore off for no reason.  DM coming out all guns blazing at the Chief’s, stating PM passed though Delhi Cantt and found the Chuna-Geru was not up to the mark. Transport Minister trying to send a message to avoid meeting to the PM stating he is struck in a traffic jam. Foreign Minister already on a flight to Bhutan, when asked why? She says, because of that dhokla issue or was it dhoklam, she forgot.  General Saab already fit-chuted and ready to para jump over Iraq, just in case some more Indians had to be brought back.

Bosses mood was an indicator for things to come our way. It was like the daily horoscope. I remember one of them used to get in good moods moment you talked about a party. Who is throwing it and for what reason was beside the point. Another one used to be a bridge enthusiast; so one could wait till the cows came home and have lunch at dinner time, office started after that. One used to be that training type, if your dangri smells of sweat and your patka is full of sand, it was ok with him. So you knew what to do moment you saw him, just do a front roll in the sand and your day was through. One was a stickler for punctuality, one second late for any parade meant you were on leave that day.

In the civil I find mood swings more and very difficult to predict. He will talk soft but mean harsh. He will record every incident and keep quoting it, till you die. They provoke you and make you react, burden you ‘without resources’, backtrack from their words, mean something & say something. They assume that you will interpret what they say in a manner what they don’t mean. At least in the fauj a boss used to fire you, abuse you, kick you, and shout at you but at the end of the day things were forgotten over a drink. If he was really annoyed, he sent on an LRP (Long Range Patrol).

Be that as it may, where will the PM go to express is displeasure? For him, our diversity is now becoming our divisiveness. We are no more united. Everyone wants a bigger chunk of the pie. If not then hamper parliament proceedings. That’s what the reason is for the PM to react. How do you control such people, the PM per force has to go on a fast to show his unhappiness; a sad state for India.

I consider it a matter of shame if the PM has to go on a fast like this. Knowing the Indian mentality it will make no difference to any of those elected representatives who did not let the houses function. Had these guys thought about the country first, things would have been different? I wish the PM follows our adjutant and introduces stalls of Nimbu Pani and Chai outside both the houses, for all MPs found misbehaving. When will this Gole Machhi Market return to the stature and maintain the dignity required of our Parliament? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

BURNING ISSUES OF INDIA

At this rate India will completely burn down soon. No one appears to be happy or satisfied. This is happening in a land of saints and faqirs besides crores of Gods and Goddesses. If we count places of worship, there would be countless. If I start counting people who are engaged purely in religious activities in terms of sages, saints, gurus, evangelists, maulvi’s, granthi’s sadhu’s and sadhvi’s, it would be a sizeable number of our total population. With so much of piousness why so much rage is seen.

Like we clear fields by burning the stubble for new crops, do we have to cleanse India like that? Let us all come to the streets and fight then. We have reached a stage of such intolerance for everything that I have to put myself into jeopardy every day as I am pushed against the wall as a common man. So either I perish or form part of the mob. If I have to perish, why shouldn’t I cause some damage?  Hate and hatred is the norm sprouting all over this country. What are the reasons? I don’t need to guess. Who is responsible? God only can tell.

I read the scriptures but cannot tolerate any other religion. Holy books are to be read and forgotten. How many follow their teachings in the first place? I made castes to keep someone under my thumb, to do my chores and menial work. God never made castes. Then I thought to help such people, I reserved places for them. Now they are better off than me but still demand their old status. The ones who really deserve it are still deprived. The ones who have it just don’t care. India can keep burning.

I only go and tell my neighbour that my guru gives fantastic teachings in a hope that the neighbour goes and listens to him and follows the guru. I listen from one ear and let it pass through the other. I want everyone else other than me to be upright, truthful and honest. I want every Indian to be righteous, patriotic, law abider, God fearing but me. Moment my comfort level is shaken, I must violently protest. Beat, burn, damage, uproot, kill, and inconvenience everyone else. Stopping a train and bus is no big shake. Burning them is even simpler.

My conscious only speaks for my advantage. Actually I have no conscience left. It is flexible kind of inner voice. If everything is for me I let it be, if anything is for the country, who cares is my attitude. The real “me” is full of greed for anything which I can get hold for free. Even a rubber-pencil will do. Next year if you don’t give me that, I demand it and protest. The succeeding year for not getting a pencil I can burn the country.

The truth is that for whatever genuine purposes the governments started things, as they were relevant in those days, now have to be per force carried forward. Everyone who got used to those luxuries cannot part with them. Reservations are one of them. Grand dad was a genuine case and utilised this privilege, his sons and daughters too needed it to some extent is understandable. Thereafter, there was a requirement to review the order which never happened for the vote bank. Grandson now by virtue of being a son of gun drew benefits’ by default. If his son is deprived of the special status, all hell will break loose. It is irrelevant whether he owns two SUVs, a house, two shops and has a government job.

Who cares about the police today? If the police are armed so are we. Let us enjoy this one day of a forced holiday, reason unemployment. One more day of loot and arson makes no difference. One odd guy gets shot; compensation becomes the need of the hour. The next of kin get a government job. FIR against the police officer who fired is lodged. So now you have the police to look after you. A chair to sit in the police station and a cup of tea is assured. A soft spoken “daroga” for your requirement will be there. Probably you will get a lift home in a police jeep. India can continue burning.

Well I think we Indians understand only one language when it comes to disciplining our own selves. Your guess is as good as mine. My attitude is to extract every pound from the state machinery, if deprived, create a chaotic situation. We will burn assets of the nation for no reason. With such deeds we shall burn in hell, the scriptures say. Well, who the hell has seen hell? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

THE FOODIE WITHIN ME

I wish I had a job like these guys who come on a programme “Highway on my plate”. Some appetite those guys have. 30 years back I could have beaten them hands down. I like the one who is a non-vegetarian. Ghass-Phoos is not my cup of tea to be frank but due to dietary restrictions and age catching up, perforce I have to munch on my veggies and sprout salads. Nevertheless, I want to understand how they control their weight. For me even when I drink water, it goes and gets stuck on my waist like the after effects of Desi Ghee.

Imagine one gets paid for eating. This is some naukri I must say. Their crew must be dying salivating. The beauty is that they publically announce whether they liked or disliked the food. I wish they have a NDA second termers “square meal” as a daily ritual for their diet. In case they ran away from learning table manners I would send all the Drill and PT ustads hunting for them till the time they not only have a “flat foot” but a flat belly too.

Be that as it may, how can one eat so much and not have acidity. I am sure ENO salt people would have them on their cross wires. I think better would be “agar pet safa, har rog dafa” kinds. Kayam Chooran can claim to reduce the emissions of their obnoxious gases for free. By the way, these guys must be farting and farting non-stop. The only way to make way for the next morsel must be to release some gas. I pity the crew who accompany them as their car would be no less than the Nazi gas chamber of sorts.

When these guys must be reaching homes they must be insisting on their wives to make that “patli peeli wali khichiri”. People don’t get to eat two square meals and here we have two chaps who polish of meals for twenty chaps without even belching. I am sure they believe in the adage “pet bhar gaya par neeyat nahi bahri”.

In NDA, I and my cousin used to go to a tamarind jungle near Kondwa gate? We used to target the ripest pods, get them down with a fagot and squeeze the sweet, sour and tangy pulp on the slices of bread. Call it a “Tamrindwich”. We used to sometimes pick up “mixture” (namkeen) from gole market, mash a few “boondi ladoos” in it and stuff the “thing” in buns and wash it down with water, as going to get tea room on a movie day for a second termer meant trouble.

 Many moons back my wife once asked me yaar we have been married so many years and you have never told me that what you would like to eat. You just eat what I make. So please tell me. I said OK make Chicken Mayonnaise. All hell broke loose that day. “Don’t you know there is no chicken”. “First get chicken and then demand such a thing”. “We also don’t have mayonnaise”. “You do it on purpose”. Well I said you asked for it, what’s my fault. “No, you don’t love me and just want to embarrass me”. I learnt my lesson to keep shut and eat what you get ever after.

A few years later, when love overflowed again she said. “Yaar you never tell me how I cook”. “You never find any faults with my dishes”. “You just say “theek hai” never say “achha hai ya kuch kam-ziada hai”. One fine day I said “Namak kam hai” and all hell broke loose again. “How many times have I told you salt is not good for health”. “Don’t you find the salt and pepper shaker in front of you”? “This Tata chap is not making good quality salt”. “If I have forgotten to put it once why do you have to highlight it?” I said my dear, if I don’t say anything you have an issue. You coaxed me to say something, now there is an issue. Just tell me will I get dinner today or not. Believe you me there was double the salt in the dinner and I ate quietly. She sat with a grumpy face and decided to eat quite late. Then meekly came and said sorry and asked me how I ate with so much of extra salt. I told her I am Ex-NDA from 66 course. I can eat anything which moves or doesn’t move. We are Lakkar Hazzam and Pathhar Hazzam. (We can digest wood and stones)

Since that day I have been saved the agony of commenting on any food. By the way she is a terrific cook. My paunch reveals everything. Nevertheless, when will I get a chance to just taste food and be paid for it? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

 Noel Ellis

BUST THE BUST

It all starts with an idea that let us do something different. How do we make our presence felt? It is by simply announcing that we are here. If no one acknowledges our presence then you do something to attract attention. This I say in context of breaking various statues & busts. Imagine India can be brought to a grinding halt for such things. I don’t know if these people were really sentimental or they were hired goons. Politics of the matter aside, how and why should someone deface or pull down any statue in broad daylight, where police is present and does nothing to sort these people out. Then they blame it on sentiments of the public, is just a cover story.

The basic reason is no fear of law enforcing agencies in the public. Everyone knows police will come at the last moment once the damage has been done. Police hides behind the veil of no one informed them. I ask, don’t they have their mukhbir’s (sources) to give them advance information that an incident of pulling down Lenin’s statue is going to take place. The public hires a JCB from somewhere, as if this equipment is readily available. People gather in hundreds without the local police getting a whiff. Definitely it has political patronage. Who will report to the police? A common citizen has no trust & faith in police as instead of treating him as a facilitator, he becomes the perpetrator of crime. He is questioned, grilled and harassed, by that time it’s too late.

I reckon that the police must have been informed in advance by politicians to not to come near the crime scene till such time riot has finished? Why don’t we put all those who did it behind bars for ten years and the SP and staff of that police station in the clink for life for dereliction of duty? If this does not deter people then God save this country.

It reminds me of a visit long back to Kingsway Camp in Delhi to meet friends. They took us to the Coronation Park. There was a pure white marble statue of King George the Vth besides other Kings and Governors of the British Raj. These statues were displayed in the smaller domes near India Gate but later all of them were shifted to this park in 1960. I shall not comment about the anti-British sentiments here but I shall talk about the artistry and the marvellous work done on stone. It definitely deserves a place in some museum. I appreciate that they were not destroyed but relocated. Many of them are now broken with marble chipped away either in transit or by druggies and bootleggers who frequented that place.

The Bamiyan statues of Lord Buddha in Afghanistan were decimated by the Taliban by firing all sorts of explosives at them. What did they achieve out of it? I don’t know. Even naming and renaming of roads etc has the same effect. Call it Connaught place or Rajiv Gandhi chowk, which one will you relate to. Call it Kings Circle or Maheshwari Udyan, what are you at ease with? In Bombay aka Mumbai one will never reach “fountain” unless you know the bus number or you know it has been re-christened as Hutatma Chowk. Well that is what the state of affairs is today.

I remember when posted in Jaisalmer many moons back, there was a corner stone in our mess, well engraved giving out who built the barrack, the date of inauguration etc. That piece of marble should still be found embedded in that wall if the building still exists. One fine day the mess was renovated again. From the hessian cloth false roofing we had graduated to plywood. We now had a new TV room, a nice bar and a dance floor. Our corridors and ante room now had marble from makrana. It was a total transformation from clay floor covered with tarpaulins. Someone decided that why not turn the stone Ulta (reverse) as time was short to get a new one engraved. A mason removed that stone and to the utter surprise it was found that someone had used this idea already. Was another stone was put in its place or we continued with the same one, I don’t remember?

Why are we trying to change history and the truth of our times? A statue or a bust, which has no powers to retaliate should be left alone. Trying to take law into your own hands speaks of a dirty mentality. I urge the security forces to use appropriate force rather than waiting for a statue to be destroyed and then appear on the scene. Will politics allow any stern action? I wonder!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

AN IMAGINARY ACTORS REAL LIFE

There is a difference in being actually blind and acting and emoting to be blind. There is a sea of difference when a real blind person walks with his cane and an actor does a scene. Actor has countless supporting staff to ensure everything is perfectly placed for the shot, just in case the actor stumbles and a costly set is ruined. If the actor gets hurt there would be hell to pay.

The final word is of the director who shouts CUT, till he finds the actor has been able to portray the exact emotion he wants. The original voice is dubbed; tears are artificial but the end product of all this makes a film hit or a flop. Do we have retakes in real life?

Our film industry has produced umpteen brilliant actors. Many of them have tried their hands in politics, some were successful and some not. Some got nominated to the parliament. It indeed must be an honour and a matter of pride for all those who have graced the temple of democracy. How many actually were able to do justice to the political cap? Your guess is as good as mine.

Wealth is another thing which comes with stardom. Thereafter how they spend it or rather flaunt is their prerogative. The needs remain the same as shoes go from Bata to Gucci, shirt from Peter England to Diesel. The same actor who lived on cutting chai now goes to a five star to have a cup of tea. From a thirty rupee haircut at the road side barber shop, he goes to a spa. The water from the committee tap now is replaced by imported mineral water. He needs body guards, a few cars, maybe his own caravan & personal staff as now memsaab and bachha party too need to enjoy that luxury.

Soon age starts to catch up; the greys in the hair can be camouflaged by dye but the wrinkles under the skin need to be surgically removed. The shapes of the eyes & nose have now to be designer made. The feel good factor is now replaced by the look good factor. Next movie depends on the looks, as acting has already been mastered over the years.

There comes a phase of winning awards. The pinnacle is getting a national award. Market price shoots up. You become a celebrity of kinds. Magazines and news papers are after your blood. Fan & twitter following sky rockets. With name and fame comes socialising, with it comes drinks and partying. With all this comes one night stands and flings. Stealing the affections as per your requirement becomes an in thing. So now you are married, re married and all that stuff.

With money comes charity. Suddenly you get attracted to causes of humanity. You open an NGO. You become benevolent. You then get associated with the philanthropic circuit. You start lecturing on the art of giving. All this is done under arch lights to make at least page 3 news if not the headlines. News sells, if it doesn’t, media is paid to sell it.

Everything cannot be hunky dory always. From acting one moves to producing. With that come its own hazards of the mafia and the goonda elements. Huge sets need huge budgets. Large crew needs to be paid off. Basically a gamble starts, if the film is a hit nothing like it, if not gamble continues.

A time comes when the government decides to felicitate you for your colourful life by a padma series of awards. If you have made enough money you can join a party. For that you need to pledge and contribute to its “chanda”. The actor is now on national and international platforms.

You die one day actually acting all this while. Media tears you apart. Then a tri-colour is seen hugging you on your last journey. The national flag appears to be a kind of prop, like they are used while shooting a film. Even the procession appears stage managed. People of the fraternity gather solemnly to pay their respects. It appears as if it is a huge set where actors wear tons of makeup to show emotions with bruises and cuts with blood gushing out from sauce bottles to emote death.

Though the situation is real, the body is real, the near and dear ones are real, the emotions of the family members are real, crowds are real but somewhere there is a feeling that after this there will be part two of the film where this person will be live again. However the truth is that the actual director of life has finally said cut. Can the almighty do a retake? I wonder!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

MY RELIGION IS SAFFRON WHITE & GREEN

Splintered is a feeble word I would use for India today. We are kind of disintegrating as a nation. Fragmentation has become a new norm of our society. Even our ethos is crumbling with every passing day. The whole world is our family is way too big a statement. Today, we are split down the middle, even in our families. Then we have our social gradation which separates us, followed by our religion which makes us drift apart further. Now we also have various kinds of fringe elements adding to the chaos. Is this the India of our dreams?

The segregation starts moment a child is born. The difference is being born in a municipal hospital or a super speciality hospital. The gap is seen between the haves and the have not’s. Then comes our schooling, in that comes gradation due to Vernacular medium, English medium and International schooling. Religious schools & institutions shred us further apart. We stand divided at every step but are united to fight for destruction of this nation.

In the armed forces we too have groups called Combat groups. We have squads, sections, platoons, detachments’ and Combat teams. We have Brigades, Divisions, Corps and Commands. However, we train together and fight together. We are divided into such groups to unite our Hindustan. We carry our religion, which is the national flag on our sleeves.

A crew of a tank, a gun or a BMP is an ultimate team. Everyone is a cook, sentry, gunner, commander, operator and stick. If the driver doesn’t switch on the master switch, nothing functions. If a loader doesn’t load, the gunner can’t fire. If the commander doesn’t designate a target, the driver will not be able to position his vehicle correctly for the gunner to fire. If all of them do not come together as a well oiled team, they cannot fight the enemy. Where does religion come in here?

In battle there is only one aim, annihilation of the enemy. I don’t know if religion, caste, creed, ethnicity is becoming our biggest enemy.

In an army convoy if the leading vehicle is too fast, the vehicles following will get scattered. If it is too slow, they all will bunch up. If they do not follow SOPs & drills and adhere to speed limits, there is likely hood of convoys getting mixed up and accidents. Aim is to get every vehicle, men and material to the designated place, at the right time, in the designated order, in the best state of preparedness, for accomplishing a mission. That is what India needs. There cannot be a hindu-muslim-sikh-isai convoy. Yes, the “mandir vehicle” as it is called is also part of the convoy. Anyone so desirous of “tekoing his matha” can do so while on the move but without breaking convoy discipline.

During war water and food is limited and rationed. It is distributed equally to everyone. There is no discrimination. In battle if a man is thirsty and you offer him a sip of water and a tonne of gold, what will he go for? What will a soldier carry in battle? Is it ammunition or his religion? Religion has no place in war, it is the country that comes first always and every time. Rest doesn’t matter.

We have one organisation which is above religion and politics that is the Armed Forces. The seeds of animosity and bitterness cannot be and should not be planted in our blood. Every officer loves his cook as much as he loves his gunner. Every man counts, every trade has his role to play. The doctors don’t see your religion to treat you when you have a bullet in your chest. When blood is infused, no religion is printed on it except its group. Life and limb needs to be saved not religion.

If this much is clear then at least on the day when soldiers are being laid to rest after making their supreme sacrifice for the nation, let news channels not debate, as they show scenes of coffins and the last post being played with politicians this Hindu-muslim-sikh-isai issue. Let that soul depart in peace.

My country is supreme; rest all has no place in military ethos. I have pledged my life for the tri-colour, I shall go by land, sea or air, where ordered, to defend it from internal disorder and external aggression is the pledge I have taken and a promise made to my countrymen. If I die in the line of battle, the only place where my religion comes in is to give me a befitting farewell on my last journey. Otherwise I have no religion. Is my religion loud and clear? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

CHAI PAKORA TALES

I came across a byte how the “pakorawala’s” shot into fame when they were mentioned in certain despatches in the Rajya Sabha. The famous “chaiwala” has already left a mark and now is a chance for this man to come to lime light. I saw many news anchors; mind you head of news channels going around their studios tasting various types of pakoras made by these hard working simpletons. I am convinced that to become successful in this country one has to either become a chaiwala or a pakorawala. This reminded me of days many moons back when “khalis doodh ki cha” and “garma garam pakoras” were in vogue.

I honed my skills of making chai as a little boy. The cuppa tea I used to brew used to be one litre of pure “bhains” milk, two big table spoons of tea leaves, two green elaichi’s nice and crushed in a “kharal”, four or five big spoons full of sugar and boil all these together. Tea used to be a minimum “dus ubala” which meant the concoction used to rise and fall at full heat in the “degchi” ten times. The dancing tea leaves would come up to the brim and then I used to lift the vessel off the “pump wala stove” to let it settle down and repeat. Then put one tea spoon of tea leaves in the “channi” and pour the liquid into my mug enamel. The brownish colour used change to coffee colour and that’s what I called a good cuppa steaming hot tea.

Well, if chai comes can pakoras be far behind. My favourite used to be bread pakoras. The “besan” coated ones I used to relish “aloo bhar ke”. All these were deep fried and in fact in the good old days it used to be in Dalda or Rath ghee. I recall dalda used to be a yellow colour tin with a few palm trees and Rath used to be a sky blue one with a chariot printed on it. Later they started calling it vanaspati, I couldn’t make out the difference. Much later refined oil came in. Today, if you tell the doctor that I had ghee, he will start looking at his watch as if my time to walk this earth is over.

They say that my dad’s era used to be of desi ghee, my era was of dalda and the present generation are the refined oil kinds. Meaning that all the desi ghee kinds were strong and hard working, the dalda kinds worked hard but the refined oil ones just don’t (pun intended). Never heard my dad or grand dad fall ill or had cold or cough. Their sweet dish used to be a hot cup of sweetened milk with a big spoon of desi ghee and a dash of haldi. Halwa of any kind meant ghee floating on top. “Tarka” meant shudh home made desi ghee ka tarka. Roti always had ghee “chipor” ke.

I remember in my ancestral home town doodh & jalebi made in pure ghee used to be a staple breakfast. There used to be long queues to get that crispy, juicy, entangled piece of sweet. The way the halwai used to “fainto” the milk and jalebi’s together was a treat to watch. The milk used to drop more than a meter and a half & not a drop used to spill. The attraction to eat was not only to do with the taste but the presentation of the milky wonder.

In Punjab it used to “chola bhaturas”. Deep fried ones in ghee. The small flour ball was pressed and lifted in the palm. Two or three claps of the hands used to turn it into a bhatura. Then with an artistic throw in the piping hot Jacuzzi of ghee with the anti clock wise rotation it used to be chucked in. Swirling and turning as it went down. Before the bhatura hit the bottom of the “kadhai” it used to start rising. A huge sieve used to press upon it. Out of the bubbling ghee used to pop a crispy bhatura which was flipped in style while the next one was thrown in. All of us used to wait for our turn, mouth salivating all this while.

One could never master was the chutney these “rehriwala’s” used to make. Mom could never replicate that taste. Their green and red chutney was different from our home made ones. Everything was served on a “pattal” and licked clean by us. At the end of it asking for additional free chutney was our birth right. The “committee ka nalka” was the only source of water for the burns in the mouth. If we were lucky, it used to be a bottle of “milk badam” or “bante wala soda” from the next thela.

Life has moved on, the place where I am is “vada pao” and “kanda bhajia” territory. Let me assure you the taste is out of the world. Order a plate and you will repeat the order before finishing it. I dare say should these pakorawals go on strike; there will be hell to pay. Will they be able to live a life of dignity as was mentioned in the august house? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

A SHIP CALLED INDIA

I am not a sailor but when I peep out of the Porthole, all I see is beti jalao not bachao, bus jalao not chalao, dukan aur makan jalao not banao, if nothing else is left then burn tyres and effigies of all and sundry. Nothing seems to be hunky dory on this voyage on a ship called India.

At a drop of a hat we gather together to show akrosh. We gather in thousands without a thought, without an aim. Most of us are tamashbeen. Throw stones at a bus; break them and burn them. We are so illiterate & blind that we cannot even recognise a school bus. The poor driver, conductor and students have no defence but to let it happen.

Which way is India going? We can cause mayhem and destruction for a movie or a baba. Hold a city to ransom for reservations. Ignite communal violence for beef, throw petrol bombs on trains and blame it on hurting public sentiment. If I put it the other way around, are we not hurting the national sentiment? It is time for an SOS (…—…) call.

Issue is there are no more morals left. Today, the Zameer is dead, Insaniyat is finished, humaneness has vanished, tolerance has been subverted, patience has evaporated, humanity is in danger, compassion has been swept under the carpet and civility no more exists. Did the founders of India even dream of such things when they set sail on this voyage?

We can talk of projecting India as a super power. How can it be if we are so communally motivated? The negative energy thus being produced is actually not letting the wheel of progress turn. Everyone is exerting without being in sync and tune. If we have to find faults and pick holes in every system and oppose its implementation we can forget about progress. It appears that India is like a rudderless craft. It is carrying a lot of stuff but drifting with the current and the wind. The Captain is trying to steer it but the power train is not firing all cylinders. He often leaves the ship and goes abroad to accelerate its growth but comes back to find its crew has burnt quite a few of the ships compartments. Though the captain knows the ropes but appears to be caught between the devil and the deep sea.

On this Indian ship, the security is vigilant but the internal organisations are at loggerheads. The crew which belongs to various regions, ethnicities, speaks various languages and belongs to different religions is taking too much time to start functioning as a team. The diversity is difficult to fathom. The galley cannot cater for every ones choice. A thambi will have to get used to Chola bhaturas and a Punjabi to sambar vada. The engine room is the parliament and is so noisy that all issues get drowned in its noise and heat. The crew is just making steam without understanding the need of the ship, as they are oblivious of the weather, wind conditions and currents while they work deep inside their work stations. Hope time has not come to shout May Day.

The journey for us is long, moreover our own crew has become in-disciplined, the sea is rough with hazards popping up every now and then, course is being set and reset but the ship appears to be relatively static. The expectation is to move this 125 (crore) tonne ship at the speed 69 knots and even more. We find the engine room not responding, the oars are not being pulled in unison and attacks by pirates are stalling the progress. Why can’t we have all hands on deck?

Task is difficult and time is running out fast.  Let us not self destroy our ship by agitating and protesting. Let us not add to the misery by burning our own bunks. Let us for once think and act as one team India and climb the Jacob’s ladder to reach a different world. The Admiral and his fleet is as effective or efficient as each crew member. Individually all crews may be brilliant but when it comes to brand India the flotilla appears scattered, is a feeling I get. The star board side of each ship is not aware of what is happening on the port side and the stem doesn’t know what is happening in the stern. The saving grace is it is still afloat.

Let the Captain be the guiding light. All those who are trying to make a hole to sink the ship need to be taken care of. Let’s not create a situation to abandon ship. We need to be above board and leave no one marooned. When can we have such a BRAVO ZULU moment? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

MATTER OF AN INCH

These days I avoid commenting on the state of political affairs. However, when people get loggerheads with national security, I can’t resist keying a few words. Today, I would like to deal with a politician who rubbed the Indian Navy on the wrong side for not granting permission for a floating jetty to be constructed in the Malabar hills of Mumbai. Well Sir, the least I can say is little knowledge is dangerous. If another 26/11 happens, the same politicians will not only run to the Navy but also provide a mile of land to establish a security hub where they refuse to give an inch today.

Be that as it may, you call Colaba area posh. Rightly so, it is the inhabitants and the culture of the citizens staying in that area that make it posh and Navy is definitely one of them. Real estate prices are not the only indicator for the poshness of a place. It is the environment, the facilities and national assets that make it so. Don’t you see smart men and women in white who add to the definition of posh?

If I have to suggest, why do we have all Mantralay’s including yours in Delhi? Let the Maharashtra Mantralaya shift to Deonar dumping ground and our Parliament to the Gazipur land fill. Two things would happen, one, the habit of opening their mouths too much by the politicians will stop due to the stench. Second, that area will become posh.

The Navy should be patrolling the Pakistan border as you say. Rightly so, you should be patrolling the Indian roads then. Why do you politicians chicken out while giving orders to sort Pak out? Navy would be more than happy to shift their Headquarters to Karachi or Gwadar as the case may be. You want to be in the arms of your darling every evening, what has the navy chap done to deserve a life buoy around his neck at the end of each day.

Once Pakistan is taken care of, thereafter, you won’t have any requirement of the Western fleet. Army too will be able to concentrate on the direction which is getting hotter by the day and so will the Air Force. Kindly minister sahib, visit those forward areas. I request you give us a few feet, where roads and other infrastructure can be built for sustaining the troops. The forces will be more than happy to find their colleagues being evacuated in time and saved. We want living legends and not dead jetties.

Let us be clear that minister ship lasts as long as the government lasts. How long will this one last, next election will tell? Once the Navy is sent off to patrol, they definitely won’t be able to vote, as they would be guarding the high seas for this nation. This should not give you a wrong notion that their vote won’t count. If need be, the armed forces will make it count one day. We are protectors of this nation and not people who lower their morale by ridiculous statements. We serve every government irrespective of who is the minister of which ever ministry.

The joke going around is that, if you can’t give an inch of ground, we definitely can give the government a nine inch boot in next elections. The men in uniform owe their allegiance to the tricolour & the constitution; politicians we know owe their allegiance to whom, for what and why.

One more thing I want to ask Minister Saab. You keep every inch with you but please ensure that servicemen and ex servicemen do not have to beg for their rights. Their families are looked after while they are at the borders. Their children get admissions in schools, their properties are not taken away by thugs, their aging parents are treated with dignity and their documents are made without greasing any palm. Too much of rum has been spilled in the corridors of civil authorities without relief to this man guarding the frontiers. The beauty is that even when you don’t give him his due, he still doesn’t let the country down.

I wish you become the Defence Minister one day, maybe just temporarily and understand why they denied that facility. The person whose baby it is knows, isn’t it? I know you can’t think beyond business, profits and commerce but National Security should never be compromised at any cost, ever.

Well, Indian Armed Forces have a different business to deal with. So kindly take back your words and give us that inch which you have decided not to give. We have been taught and believe in that Chetwode Motto which says “The Safety, Honour and Welfare of your country comes first always and every time”. Construction of a jetty for commercial purposes comes last always and every time. Does it make any sense to you Mr Minister? I wonder!!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

© Noel Ellis

WHATSAPP KI JAI

Today, as I decided to clear my phone memory. I was shocked as to how much junk I carry. Thank God it is in electronic form or else I would have been buried alive under the weight of 27409 messages, 3081 images, 1619 video clips, 774 audio recordings and the same number of PDF files. Imagine if I went into reading and watching everything, I would live a hundred years.

Then I sat down to realise who all are my genuine friends out of the long list of phones contacts, found quite a few. However, there are a few perpetual “goodmoringers”. Many are the religious kinds who have to send you holy pictures and verses from all religious scriptures as a routine. Then are the pious kinds in the first half of the day and as the day wears out they turn into people with coloured eyes, especially of the bluish kind.  God save me from the chain mailers too. Then there are some nocturnal birds. They wake up past midnight, clear their phone memory and go off to sleep. My apologies to my foreign friends, as we in India don’t bother to check the time in your part of the world. Our urge to forward messages is so strong that we can inconvenience you at our will.

Then there are those repeaters, I am included. How can one remember what all have I sent to whom all? The beauty is that the person retorts immediately as if you have committed a murder, that you had sent it on Friday the 13th in the winter of 2008. Initially I used to say sorry but now I don’t bother. One has decided to hell with such complaints, how can one keep tight control on one’s fingers. Though, one does definitely try not to repeat a previously sent forward. Well age is catching up so such mistakes should be pardoned.

Then, there are people whom I call the fastest finger first. You send a message and before you say Jack Robinson, the same message or video lands back in your inbox from the person you just sent it to. That will be followed by two huge sorry emoticons followed by folded hands which are actually high fives modified to Indian conditions. Very rarely someone calls to say sorry.

Then we have the people who wake up once in a blue moon. Probably their work doesn’t allow them to interact much but if you see their status, they are online on all social networks. You find them checking messages you sent within seconds of its delivery. I grade them in the status of dormant volcanoes; they just spew some ash and fire once in a while.

Then there are people who are collectors. They even save good morning messages which they intend to share with their grand children when they grow up. Such people have huge memory cards in their phones. What else they save, God alone knows!

Then there are a few sermonisers. They can send you anything from a missing child’s pic, to a blood donor’s list, to availability of a kidney, to when to eat banana, do this and don’t do this etc. They will keep shoving anything and everything at you. They don’t even read what is written but will forward them thinking you may read it and benefit probably. In the bargain they do send attachments which they never saw and are of the adult kind. Then they go silent for a while to resurface after a gap and get back to their old habit.

There are a few who are allergic to those two words “Read More…” Moment they see those words they delete it. Who wants to waste time reading long stories? Such people are on the network for visual effects only. My articles are generally dealt like that.

Then there are people who copy paste jokes and download stuff form old mails, I call them the benevolent friends. They are really exerting, to read, to sift, thereafter to copy paste. They even add a few emoticons and then share it with friends. I look forward to such posts.

Today, laughter is restricted to those two emoticons, ha-ha, or Lols you send back. No one is actually laughing his heart out. Real fun and laughter is dead. People don’t watch even TV properly. Their heads are down on the mobile thinking they will be able to follow the story. At the end of it, they land up sending a wrong post to a wrong person. When they look up, they have lost the plot of the serial too.

To make out the difference between necessity and addiction is a tough call. I want to keep in touch with friends genuinely. How will I do it? I wonder!!!!!!!!

JAI HIND

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén