Thackeray calls for Hindu suicide squads
As the title suggests, Bal Thackeray wants a Hindu suicide squad to counter Islamic terrorism in India.
My only question - will he volunteer to be a member of such a suicide squad? will he give up his life for the "cause" and blow himself up ?
Of Suicide Squads & Leadership
Me, Myself and The Elevator
I believe that the most embarrassing and wasteful moments of my life have been spent either waiting for an elevator or being inside it.
Imagine all those wasteful moments ,doing nothing, waiting for the elevator to arrive. If you sum them up they might even add up to a day.
It often happens that I reach the elevator, and finding it unavailable I pace around, walking and moving in circles until the elevator arrives. I mean, how unfair is it to first walk briskly to reach the elevator then suddenly having to stop. Its like Newton and his laws of inertia being put to test. And in case the elevator arrives early, I walk around inside it (only if its empty, mind you :D). Must be a bizarre thing to even imagine for most , but for me it happens all the time!
The trouble doesn't end with the arrival of the elevator. Then starts the embarrassing/boring phase of getting into the elevator and looking blankly around waiting for your floor to arrive. It becomes even more difficult if you have some really beautiful girls sharing elevator space . So microscopically close yet all you end up doing is either looking up the ceiling or looking at the watch ( with an astounded look suggesting that it has stopped working all of a sudden ). But in case the elevator is crowded,wriggling your way in and excusing your way out can be quite an ordeal.
Sometimes I just feel like pressing the red alarm button or the emergency stop button just to see what happens if I do that. One day I gotta try that.
Elevators are one of those places cursed with deadly silence. Even the most boisterous and loud-mouthed ones get tamed once they step inside. People just get lost and seem clueless. They look around trying to read/observe ( things which they might've read/observed a hundred times ) every damn thing that's there on the walls. Random ads, phone numbers, scratches on the steel doors, the dust on the fan, the do's and don'ts, the manufacturer's note. Effect of the closed spaces I guess.
Too much of cribbing in a single post. So here's how I sometimes have fun inside the elevator. Whenever its empty, that is. I walk across from one side of the elevator to the other just when the elevator starts. So when its going down, you can feel lighter and when its going up, you can feel heavier. Now that, relatively speaking, is a lot of fun:)
Deft Hands & European Pickpockets - Part Two
For first time readers, just scroll down a few posts down and you can get the first part of the story.
For my other readers , Sorry for keeping you long :)
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So, there we were in the middle of the night facing the predicament of spending the night at the Brussels railway station. We were tired after the long journey and badly wanted to sleep. But more importantly, we wanted a warm place. This was a problems as the station had no heating. It was closed yet it was so cold outside that even with your complete winter gear, you felt the chill.
To go out in search of bars, pubs was certainly out of question as we were in no mood for it after such an exhausting journey. We decided to spend our night in the station.
Unlike the Indian railway stations, the Belgian railway stations close at night from around 1 in the night to 4 in the morning and the station is cleared for this duration. This was another added tension.
Thus we waited, sitting on the ultra cold metallic chairs. The station was practically empty, hardly 10 people. A Moroccan guy, some blacks, some Europeans( looked east European ) a Chinese/mongoloid couple and we Indians. The cold was getting to me. I thought, its better to keep awake and warm by walking around the station. So I beckoned my friend ( Rahul ) for a stroll around.
We walked around, checked out the huge railway timetables pasted on the boards, discussed some vague things and lamented on our bad luck.
As we loitered around we saw a few north Africans ( Moroccans perhaps ) sitting in one corner with shabby bags. We looked at them, they looked back. And suddenly one of them started singing Ram Jaane,Ram Jaane ( the song from the SRK movie with the same name ) and asked us if we are from India. We said yes. I was not so enthusiastic about the guy. There was something sinister. Looked like a junkie you often encounter in games. After a little exchange of words, he stood up and came over.I backed off ( Had heard stories of mugging in railway stations ) while my friend was still continuing with them. After a while I turned back to see what was happening. I saw my friend surrounded by two other guys along with the first guy.
Thats all for tonight :D
Minutes Before The UFO Landing
I know, the title is absolutely rotten. But I ruminated for some time about how I should name this picture. Through the Mist, God's Word and what not.
But then, UFO draws attention.
Just like the Times of India newspaper headlines.
But then, UFO draws attention.
Just like the Times of India newspaper headlines.
Random Thoughts on Republic Day
I was watching 300, the adaptation of Frank Miller graphic novel yesterday and couldn't help reflecting on the way history has been taught to us, through books and other popular media.
The moot point - how did the small army of Spartans led by Leonidas lose against the mighty Persian army of Xerxes. It was a traitor who betrayed the secret of a goat's trail which helped Xerxes surround Leonidas's army from all sides.
Doesn't it sound similar to all that we have read about our Indian history? Be it Rani Lakshmi Bai, Siraj-Ud-Daula of Bengal, Tipu Sultan, Prithvi Raj Chauhan and countless. Why is it always that people lose because of a traitor. And I think , if there was no traitor could they have won the wars ? Why is the failure just attributed to the betrayal of some confidante? or will their bravery be lessened if we were told that they lost because the opposite army was just more powerful, more sophisticated and had better weapons ? I really don't know the answer.
But I feel happy that I could question that which is almost a given truth.
Deft Hands & European Pickpockets - Part One
The first story that I am going to relate is about the pickpockets of Europe.
The first one happened to my friend, who is one of the four who went to IAG UCL , Belgium on student exchange. The story goes such. We had a great week in Italy, and had taken the night train to Munich from Milan. The train passed through the austrian alps and it was snowing like crazy and everywhere you could see the white blanket of snow. So we decided that we would traceback our journey after reaching munich and check out the snow and so we did. We had a great time. So everything went well here, so why am I telling you this? Well, its quite central to the whole story, just have some more patience.
So where was I? yes, we went to Austria, and had some fun in the snow and returned to Munich to take the 3 pm high speed train to Brussesls. We were in time and we finally started on our journey back. But as fate would have it there was a railway workers strike the very same day and so after some two hours of journey we found ourselves stranded along with thousands of other passengers in Cologne. All was not lost though, there were still some local trains operating, and we both boarded one such train which took us to the last stop on the German border. Unlike India the railway people felt responsible for the inconvenience we faced and they booked a bus for all the passengers who had to go to Brussels and Liege in Belgium. And thus we found ourselves on the bus, hoping that the time it takes quite some time to reach Brussels. Basically, we wanted to spend the night in the bus rather than in the station where there'd be no heating. But to our badluck, the bus driver drove really fast and by 12 15 in the night we were in Brussels-Midi train station. The last train was gone, the first train in the morning was at 4 45. We had no option but to spend our night in the railways station.
The stage is set -more in the next post
Ciao.
The European Sojourn
Student Exchange Program( STEP, as we call it in IIMC) means that you get to spend a full term in a foreign university. Thus I was in Belgium for the last three months in a university which i am sure you will have never heard of. Nevermind. I was not there for the university in the first place.
Travelled a lot. 12 countries to be precise. Thats like the avergae number of countries any stepper in europe travels with some people even touching 18.
So whats in store for you?
There are so many things you know about Europe, about foreigners, about foreign land ... but I believe there are so many other things you don't really know. For example, roaming around on the streets of Amsterdam you realize that a place is not just people passing by on bicycles, the trams the canals, the monuments ... its much more ... And that much more will I try to express in the posts to come through personal anecdotes, observations and plain description ... for your sake and for my sake ... so that I never forget ... so that its for keeps...
I leave you with a picture of a place called Cinque Terre in Italy on the Mediterranean Coast. Probably one of the most beautiful places I have been in Europe.
Why this to start with - probably because I sat on the rocks of the craggy coastline, and sat still for an hour on the rocks, feeling like a traveller. Ironic you may say, but thats how I felt :)
So Long.
I've Got Taxi Power
One thing I will surely miss when I leave Calcutta is the ubiquitous yellow taxis. There's nothing great about them. Normal Hindustan Motors Ambassador models painted yellow with a black stripe running along the sides, with electronic meters and more often than not a Bihari driver.
But then, its the whole experience.
Standing at the bus stop, still undecided whether to wait for the bus or opt for the more lucrative taxi waiting at the corner. Pacing up and down the bus stop, letting a few empty taxis with drivers craning their neck in search of passengers , pass by and then finally deciding to call out for the next empty taxi that comes by.
Sometimes that "next taxi" never comes ( the bus arrives earlier ), and sometimes the taxi does come but the driver isn't ready to go. And sometimes when you have not even decided about your journey ( the choice of bus vs taxi hasn't cropped up yet ), pop comes an empty taxi, you raise your hand, the taxi stops, you alight the taxi and thats it.
Funny. The way things happen.
To think of it, the whole process of hailing a taxi, opening the door, and giving out instructions to the driver to take us to a certain place has some different feel to it. Perhaps a combination of power, expectation, and hope.
Calcutta Monsoons & The Yellow Taxis
Mind & Body
One of those moments, when you get transported in time.
It happens to me quite often. I wake up, disturbed and heavy in the mind .. and in that heaviness listen to some song playing somewhere faintly ... and I get transported to some other time ...
My body, my mind starts feeling strange. As if I have been transported to some other dimension. Not just the mind even my body reacts to it ... The body remembers the sensation ...
Sometimes its the other way round. The heat of the summer, the smell of the rains, getting wet in the rains take me back in time ...
Maybe its just the emotional baggage that I carry( which I still believe is sub-conscious :O ), or maybe its just a disturbed sleep cycle.
Warm Afternoons
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