Blissfully Impotent - An ode to Napunsaks.
Pali Hill, Mumbai - November 18, 0002008.
Most people who've visited, adore my home. I do too. At over 4,000 sq. ft., on Pali Hill and flanked by "illustrious" neighbours like the Kapoors, Dutts, et al - it is a far cry from the 60 sq. ft. chawl room that i was born and grew up in, barely 10 km from here.. Yet, today, I realized that this opulent neighbourhood is just an outward shield to conceal the omnipotent impotence that has become the hallmark of modern, "progressive" India.
Six days ago, a stretch of about 100 meters was dug up right outside my apartment. I grumbled at having to travel an extra two kilometers to work and got on, as is usual custom. (In these days of oil wars, that alone is a crime). Until today, for some strange reason, something sparked off inside. I asked my driver to stop (it was 10 pm, and the workers were still busy digging away) and walked up to one of the vandals. "For what and whom, are you digging up this road?" I casually enquired. Pretty certain of what would follow.
"Maloom nahin, MPRTRCDDZAESBGHT, ke liye shayad." He shrugged, in absolute ignorance.
"Where's your boss?" He pointed towards two industrious looking fellas taking earnest notes and discussing something with another bunch of workers.
"Hi. Who are you digging this up for?" I asked, again.
"***tel." One of them said.
"May I see your permission papers, please?" I politely asked.
What followed was a shocking affirmation of a nagging suspicion. Calls were placed to various governmental bodies and their bosses, and it turns out, these blokes have absolutely no permission to be digging up that 100 meters of public stretch of road!!! ROADS ARE BEING DUG UP WITHOUT PERMISSION OR PAPERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"I am sorry sir," he said. "We will not do it again." I could not believe my ears and left - as there was no point harassing the poor employee trying to keep his job in these tough times.
Yet, determined to not let this pass, I visited a few of my neighbours (not the illustrious ones, as their security is really tight and at 10 pm they were all probably stoned and/or drunk), but the more "regular" ones. With the exception of one, all shrugged (much like that illiterate worker) and said "Let it be, G. Sab Chalta hai!"
Kya Chalta Hai?
That we have become so impotent - that most of us dont even have the patience to ask if the road being dug under our nose is legitimate or a rape? I take an oath, that from tomorrow I WILL ASK FOR PAPERS, at EVERY ROAD i see being dug. Enough of assuming that it must be legit. It is my duty to stop the rich impotent from raping voiceless tracts of land.
Kya Chalta Hai?
That if this is the state in one of the costliest real estates on earth (yes, 6eme in Paris is cheaper!!) then we don't want to take responsibility for the estate of tyranny being imposed on our uneducated, rural fellowmen? I take an oath to stand up for injustice against me - only then will i be able to protect those who have no legs or are barely toddlers.
Kya Chalta Hai?
That these big mobile, electricity companies have become so brazenly shameless that they can throw 10,000 bucks and inconvenience 20,000 people? (Not to mention the fact that they cant provide the network or quality service on which they are raking in millions!) I take an oath to believe in our tediously slow legal system and sue the fuck out off these bastards. Only then will they stop believing they can get away Ridley Scott free, and come to their senses.
Kya Chalta Hai?
That I am surrounded by cowards, napunsaks and conscienceless people, compared to whom cold graves in some cemetery might make for more stimulating neighbours? I take an oath, to carry on. Alone, if need be. I have unshakeable faith that at least one other will join. Even if its after I am in a casket.
Kya Chalta Hai?
That we have actually given up. And all that hooplasitic lip service to Obama and his "change" was just jingosim to earn brownie points on FaceBook? Fuck trying to be cute for my "friends" on FB. I have work to do outside of status message changes that can redeem my poor self esteem, which longs for appreciative comments from friendly strangers. Well meaning strangers, who are battling the same esteem inadequacies - and expect redemption from the other me's that they once knew. Past glories, however luminous, cannot rekindle dark todays or darker tomorrows.
Kya chalta hai??????? Aaj se nahin chalega.
It feels strange to be hot blooded, when you live on a Pali Molehill where cold-blooded reptiles are slithering around outside their sub-terrain, masquerading as bipedal mammals.
It's time to move mountains. Even if it takes down that pretty home I really adore, in its wake.
We all have it in us, to start over from being a microscopic sperm.
That flows from the omnipotent potent. The non-napunsak.
The rest can ode. Or O.D. Or whatever.
Most people who've visited, adore my home. I do too. At over 4,000 sq. ft., on Pali Hill and flanked by "illustrious" neighbours like the Kapoors, Dutts, et al - it is a far cry from the 60 sq. ft. chawl room that i was born and grew up in, barely 10 km from here.. Yet, today, I realized that this opulent neighbourhood is just an outward shield to conceal the omnipotent impotence that has become the hallmark of modern, "progressive" India.
Six days ago, a stretch of about 100 meters was dug up right outside my apartment. I grumbled at having to travel an extra two kilometers to work and got on, as is usual custom. (In these days of oil wars, that alone is a crime). Until today, for some strange reason, something sparked off inside. I asked my driver to stop (it was 10 pm, and the workers were still busy digging away) and walked up to one of the vandals. "For what and whom, are you digging up this road?" I casually enquired. Pretty certain of what would follow.
"Maloom nahin, MPRTRCDDZAESBGHT, ke liye shayad." He shrugged, in absolute ignorance.
"Where's your boss?" He pointed towards two industrious looking fellas taking earnest notes and discussing something with another bunch of workers.
"Hi. Who are you digging this up for?" I asked, again.
"***tel." One of them said.
"May I see your permission papers, please?" I politely asked.
What followed was a shocking affirmation of a nagging suspicion. Calls were placed to various governmental bodies and their bosses, and it turns out, these blokes have absolutely no permission to be digging up that 100 meters of public stretch of road!!! ROADS ARE BEING DUG UP WITHOUT PERMISSION OR PAPERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"I am sorry sir," he said. "We will not do it again." I could not believe my ears and left - as there was no point harassing the poor employee trying to keep his job in these tough times.
Yet, determined to not let this pass, I visited a few of my neighbours (not the illustrious ones, as their security is really tight and at 10 pm they were all probably stoned and/or drunk), but the more "regular" ones. With the exception of one, all shrugged (much like that illiterate worker) and said "Let it be, G. Sab Chalta hai!"
Kya Chalta Hai?
That we have become so impotent - that most of us dont even have the patience to ask if the road being dug under our nose is legitimate or a rape? I take an oath, that from tomorrow I WILL ASK FOR PAPERS, at EVERY ROAD i see being dug. Enough of assuming that it must be legit. It is my duty to stop the rich impotent from raping voiceless tracts of land.
Kya Chalta Hai?
That if this is the state in one of the costliest real estates on earth (yes, 6eme in Paris is cheaper!!) then we don't want to take responsibility for the estate of tyranny being imposed on our uneducated, rural fellowmen? I take an oath to stand up for injustice against me - only then will i be able to protect those who have no legs or are barely toddlers.
Kya Chalta Hai?
That these big mobile, electricity companies have become so brazenly shameless that they can throw 10,000 bucks and inconvenience 20,000 people? (Not to mention the fact that they cant provide the network or quality service on which they are raking in millions!) I take an oath to believe in our tediously slow legal system and sue the fuck out off these bastards. Only then will they stop believing they can get away Ridley Scott free, and come to their senses.
Kya Chalta Hai?
That I am surrounded by cowards, napunsaks and conscienceless people, compared to whom cold graves in some cemetery might make for more stimulating neighbours? I take an oath, to carry on. Alone, if need be. I have unshakeable faith that at least one other will join. Even if its after I am in a casket.
Kya Chalta Hai?
That we have actually given up. And all that hooplasitic lip service to Obama and his "change" was just jingosim to earn brownie points on FaceBook? Fuck trying to be cute for my "friends" on FB. I have work to do outside of status message changes that can redeem my poor self esteem, which longs for appreciative comments from friendly strangers. Well meaning strangers, who are battling the same esteem inadequacies - and expect redemption from the other me's that they once knew. Past glories, however luminous, cannot rekindle dark todays or darker tomorrows.
Kya chalta hai??????? Aaj se nahin chalega.
It feels strange to be hot blooded, when you live on a Pali Molehill where cold-blooded reptiles are slithering around outside their sub-terrain, masquerading as bipedal mammals.
It's time to move mountains. Even if it takes down that pretty home I really adore, in its wake.
We all have it in us, to start over from being a microscopic sperm.
That flows from the omnipotent potent. The non-napunsak.
The rest can ode. Or O.D. Or whatever.
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