Chaos all around

You see India is supposed to be very good at cricket and writing long boring laws based on Brits or Americans (but mostly the former.) The country got its freedom with so much effort that it is a stuff of legends- a few years from now, the leaders who went to jail, rebelled, broke salt laws, bombed magistrates, got shot, kicked, burnt could be akin to mythological characters- colorfully exaggerated by history textbooks, over which students fall asleep because the teacher is an underpaid, bullied person, who really doesn’t know or care about the students and making future leaders. As for the cricket, it has a team with spinners who seem to be better at selling spin-a-yarn-esque ads than spinning the stupid little red thing.

Our bonds could soon be rated as junk, our forex reserves are like the bank account of literature students and our hockey team might as well be from an uninhabited island and oh! the Indian Olympic Committee just got suspended. Add to this our “religious” sentiments being hurt by teenagers on facebook (a clear sign of identity crisis- the country has a whole needs to see a shrink soon) and no wonder our politicians are always shouting about something. What would happen if they were to hear themselves? What would happen if for one moment a doubt creeps in and they discover that the country is not made of communities but of individuals, much like them, except that unlike them they could be swat like mosquitoes with an electric bat? (the fact that we don’t enough electricity to keep charging these bats is another issue altogether)

If only our future could be traded in some market- like commodity futures, imagine the thrill, the spills…and the Foreign Investments. Imagine Indian kids being bought by Norway, surely they would take care of them better than us?  All this is pure chaos like the parliament and we live it and it becomes practical- just like torrents seem much more practical than buying books and then being told you hold it conditionally( like the uncle next door who wants to sell his house but only if the buyer would keep it as it is.)

All this seems so complicated doesn’t it? What’s wrong if one was just to drink whiskey in some fancy private island in some weird ocean? Or if you are one of those unfortunate people like me, you could make do with going to sleep or reading about other people’s lives elsewhere. Doesn’t matter if it is Betelgeuse or Mocondo or IIT, as long as you have a reprieve, that lovely pillow, you are fine.

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