In a land far scarred away, laws were arranged and verdicts deranged. While those elected-to-power always relaxed, their subjects toiled and taxed. Life expectancy of women and children declined drastically owing to an incurable and widespread endemic raging far and wide from the suburban streets of Bandra to (B)east Delhi; all this while, the law was doctored to take its own course. Women were commoditized and perishable. Sometimes in the screw spirit of aesthetics by those who claimed to be Men; on all other occasions, owing to the commoditization agreed upon their own accord. A story began to invent itself in the land. Far scarred away.

I see Her. Here. There. Everywhere. she manifests herself in many forms. she is longed for in the wailings of a newborn baby. she exudes beauty of a bride. she lives in the simplicity of thoughts. she resides in the purity of virtue. she nurtures with the strength of Nature. she spreads radiance like the sun. In a remote village. In a small town. City. One household. All square meals. Every day. Bags on both the shoulders laden with all the essentials. A couple more tightly clenched in her fists. she never fails to smile even after having traversed many an extra mile. she doesn't blink an eye even if she turns from 'I' to 'i'. It’s time she is accorded the respect that She rightly deserves. Mother. Wife. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Colleague. We, men it owe all to YOU. men. Here. There. Everywhere.

I see Her. Here. There. Everywhere. she manifests herself in many forms. she is longed for in the wailings of a newborn baby. she exudes beauty of a bride. she lives in the simplicity of thoughts. she resides in the purity of virtue. she nurtures with the strength of Nature. she spreads radiance like the sun. In a remote village. In a small town. City. One household. All square meals. Every day. Bags on both the shoulders laden with all the essentials. A couple more tightly clenched in her fists. she never fails to smile even after having traversed many an extra mile. she doesn't blink an eye even if she turns from 'I' to 'i'. It’s time she is accorded the respect that She rightly deserves. Mother. Wife. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Colleague. We, men it owe all to YOU. men. Here. There. Everywhere.

All those over-9 and under-19, it's extremely important to know the Game (?); even more important is to know the Gentlemen who play it; to start with, always appear Busy See I; complete knowledge about hair styles, a fair-and-lend-some complexion (!) and brand of clothing and sunglasses etc to be worn on and off-the-field are important - they pave way for advertising endorsements and reality shows during the cricketing career and after wards, too, when all SEAMS Over; Man, a well-toned torso helps to showcase your potential as an actor when the shirt comes off after a Cuppa's victory; throw in a googly of acting and it helps you be in touch with the film industry to play cameos in movies when you're clean old - in fact, proximity to the film and television industry when married (once, twice, thrice or Four and Six on the Sore Bored!) might be an even better proposition to remarry your favorite actress heart-throb for whom you would have otherwise only Longed On as a simpleton; by the way, those looking to score many Runs jee, there are many "Stands" to gain from the upcoming High-Fee-L Season!

Mr.Verma, Sir, Just is, when men clearly know women's rights of speech, movement and expression and women treat each other and the essence of womanhood with respect and dignity; where objectification of a woman is not described in as explicitly an implicit term as HOT; where men and women keep away from making style (?) statements by addressing and impressing upon others by usage of such abusive words as "B****" or a "son-of-a-b****"; where aesthetics in art and cinema depict the existing reality which (still!) holds that (covered!) clothing maketh a complete man and WOMAN, and where women don't reveal themselves as an "item" that's always ready for a swansong! Just. Is.

Kamal Hai Son, on the one hand we promote the 100-crore faces of a Global India, and on the other hand we ban 'Vishwaroopam'! After all the Jhamela Nadu in the South, one hears of UP North getting ready for A'kalesh'; but Anna, you don't worry, Sarika sari audiences are with you! By the way, we are curious to know if she was indeed 'J', Jayalalitha? After all, she didn't show yum Karuna Didi?! She did? Yenna rascala, find it!

Foreign locales. VFX. Special effects. 3D effects. Remixed versions of all blasts-from-the-past-that-still-last. Award-winning Singers, Song-writers, Cameraman, Director and Make-up artists. Three actors, with their eight-pack abs being the (only) expression for a lasting impression. Six leading actresses who readily agreed to any and all type of aesthetically-shot Murder-Jismic scenes, with a firm commitment to "pout" all their vast experience by gyrating on item songs - after all, they shed inhibitions to an extent that these days even the camera feels shy to face them! So, Sir, finally, the "picchar" is ready to be shot; it would gross atleast 200 crore worldwide! Great! What about the dialogues? Story? Sir, while these would be a copy left right of a locally regional English film, our Public Relations team would ensure to "maintain the basic essence and originality of OUR script"!

O lord, from a few thousand kms away, I came-a-calling one early morning; as the sun was rising, it cast fright on the "trustee" counters' exhorbitant pricing; after much haggle, and seeing me frettle, the cashier finally proposed to "settle" and offered to "help" for all the weight worth your Gold; just when he thought I was sold, I went ahead and bought (only!) a flower; I started to walk away when he said, pay me now and avoid the long hour; I declined his offer and with (fear?!) belief in my heart, I decided to walk towards the queue to see from where it would start; having seen queues of various shapes and sizes with varying "amounts", I reached the point of no return, and went round and around and almost ran amok (with others!) to arrive inside a complex and massive temple compound; the queue was serpentine with believers (?) flocking and blocking in, out, above and under the line (I spared many a glance to see if I had a slim chance?!); O lord, with faith in my heart, I decided to "let go" when someone blurted out from the biggest speakers ever seen, that a VIP had arrived for your "darshan" to pray for his murder-convicted son to come clean; we are all born equal, aren't we (huh?!) - I decided to file a petition against this competition; after two few hours of waiting and gossip, eve-tease, curse, abuse, push-and-shove, all this with occasional chants of your name by those wanting to gain momentary fame, the queue started to move and "groove" towards your "darbar" to gain a second's glance towards your tall Golden frame; after hours of waiting, fretting and sweating, you appeared so majestic, though (only?!) your Silhouette shone midst much grandeur of your diamond-studded throne; as I closed my eyes to pray, I was pushed and shoved away and when I opened my eyes to see, I couldn't find thee; of course, without an iota of clout, you're still always near me; hence, thought to let you know, O lord, how all this happened; one day, a few thousand kms away...!

Hey girl, that ad you see, in which SHE helps a stranger with her GPS, and the stranger is a HE who has a chauffeur-driven Merc and a phone whose features are nee, that ad shows what NOT oughta be; suggest you took the tagline of the ad with a PUNCH of HALT (!) - 'Bhesh Mard Ka Badal Raha Hai, Aap Kab Badal Rahe Ho?!'

O Gandhi, Sir name is Rahul; top it all, when you're Sonia, it comes as no Sur-Vice President at all! Kaun grace ne kya Modi Hai, Narendra?! By the way, 2014 appears set for TWO (many!) c(r)ooks and one Feast India Company! :-)

4-year old school girl raped by the school bus conductor in Bombay; where's the fear of law? What the f*** are we coming to?! So ironic, when the future of a country, deemed to be a superpower (??), isn't safe anywhere!

No IPhones, Ipad or Blackworry (!); the only notebooks we knew were the ones in the school bag. The technology that we knew was the compass box that opened up and down - both sides. Doordarshan, thank you. You were a true entertainer; Monday to Sunday! We respected; mostly NOT out of fear. We didn't grow up fast; there was an innocence even in the "crush" we had on that girl studying in the school next door. We played. To our hearts content. In the sun. On winter mornings. On a very heavy rainy day. In the open air. We played. And won. And lost. And drew. Games were played in their true spirit, where winning wasn't every thing; it taught us that life's greatest pleasures come from small things celebrated in the spirit of togetherness! We celebrated birthdays in class; and eagerly awaited the toffees we would get post the birthday song - how sweet they tasted! After all, the size of a gift is immaterial; it's the warmth with which it is presented that matters! We stood in queues; sometimes serpentine. Of course, a few "broke the line" and went ahead; it was fine - we learnt to LET GO! We prayed together in the assembly hall where "talking" wasn't allowed; helps me listen. Now. Some were average; a handful struggled to keep pace; a few excelled with "exemptions from the final exam". Awe, yes. Insecurity, no. We thanked. We respected. Maa. Dad. Teachers. Father. Friends. We cycled. Band Stand. Nibana. Turner Road. We challenged one another to cycle uphill on Carter Road; we had arrived long before the Khans! Uncle's frankie outside the Metro shoe shop (no showroom!) on Linking Road or a hot plate of "idli" at Pamposh was so gratifying! Patwardhan Park was the place to "hang out" for a game of cricket and football; it was "so crowded" and still we managed to make "space" for ourselves and our team mates - not the best pitch, but it was fine! A quick "glance" at the English movie "posters" at New Talkies (now Globus) when mom wasn't looking; the "aesthetic" appeal to nudity was yet to arrive then! Life. Lived. At School. At home. When kids didn't grow up fast. Those days. In the 1970s. In the 1980s.

At the end of the year, performance appraisals can be so much about numbers. Number of sales meetings an employee attended during the year (irrespective of the outcome!). Number of times in a year that an employee DECLARED "I am travelling on business". Number of hours in a year that an employee's calendar showed "busy". Number of late nights an employee spent in office during the year (to Gmail, Yahoo (!) and order sumptuous dinner from the nearby restaurant when none was cooking!) Number of times an employee attended office despite ill-health owing to the hard(ly) work during the "late nights". Number of times when late night and early morning responses were "sent from my Blackweary". Number of times in a year when an employee visited a Prada showroom to shop and made it known to all each time he did. Number of times an employee spoke his (bosses!) mind in meetings throughout the year. Number of times an employee went on foreign sojourns (chhuttis, did anyone notice?!) and the "experiences" that were truly world-alas! Numbers. Up. Praise. All.

One month later. Someone, from among us, initiates to defend the five rapists who appeal not guilty. The sixth partner-in-crime appeals against his sentence on grounds of being a juvenile. The court considers his age and disregards the brutality with which he committed the crime. Elsewhere, in a small village, Mom and Dad who strongly ENCOURAGED their GIRL CHILD to pursue her eddication and career, hold on to their nerves and patiently wait for justice! One month later. The candles finally seem to have given up against the chill of India's cold. The wax has melted. It's Business As Usual for those on the prowl. Law. We wait, while it takes its own course to gauge if it can Court justice. On the SLOW TRACK? At least?

Pak troops cross LoC, kill 2 Indian jawans brutally and chop their heads off! India CONDEMNS the attack even as the wait continues for the next Indo-Pak cricket series that is expected to help mend relationships! CONDEMN. ONLY. Rapes and abuse; we CONDEMN. Terrorist attacks; we CONDEMN. Rude and unwarranted remarks by prominent heavyweights; we CONDEMN. India. Beyond CONDEMN, NATION?

Basaram Chhapu, Ganga, Jamuna, Saraswati ki Kasam, it's time you stopped minting and started chanting!