Who is more dangerous? The known gun-trotting enemy who lurks at the borders? Or unknown beasts within who roam free with utter disregard for the law in Kopardi, Bulandshahr, Bangalore, Bombay, Delhi, Assam, et al? Who is more lethal? The criminal? Parents who exercise little or no control over their offspring? A society and media that absolves itself of all responsibility by claiming that the content children watch on TV and Internet is the sole responsibility of parents? Or is it a Government and opposition who work in tandem to trivialize, cut-to-size and politicize a gruesome crime called r*** for personal gain? Whatever it is, billion-dollar investments, bullet trains, highways, swanky airports, accolade-laden speeches, a handful women in positions of power and globe-trotting CEOs do not constitute a nation; moreover, when women and innocent children are the most unsafe “COMMODITY” in the world’s largest democracy (!) that’s about to celebrate it’s Independence Day.

I am nearing 40, yet, Mom narrates bedtime fairy tales to me. Of times, when monsoon in Bombay arrived on 10 June every year, and one season did not interfere with another. Of times, when tomatoes and veggies were ripe and affordable, and when many uneducated and illiterate couples celebrated life with commitment, what if both were shy and minus compliment! When social media was unheard of, and public displays and declarations (sounds familiar!) of love were solely a domain o...f the movie industry, even as real-life marriages celebrated jubilees. When expressions of love were too precious and private with a sparkle of shyness, and marriage anniversaries were greeted in-person, minus LOUD public announcements of thanking one another for having "tolerated each other"! Whatever. Circa 2016-17, I still remain at the deceiving end when it comes to status updates about check-in to Taj, Oberoi, Hilton, Hyatt, Airport lounges, etc; anyway, that I can help? :-) In any case, I, too, will check-in tomorrow: at the GB Road bus stop. And Thane railway station, thereafter. Good night, Mom. I Love You.

Foreign Investors, please value your billions as I value my hundreds. Book a prepaid cab at the airport. Don't be disheartened if it takes 45 minutes to reach the airport hotel, a stone throw away; improbable patrons like me have the fortune of admiring such luxury only from the outside. Get your children along. They will enjoy the bumpy car ride, courtesy, potholes that are carefully crafted after annual investments worth crores. Bombay is India's commercial capital. There's... a difference between Burhan Wani and the PM speak on Akash Vani. Tur dal is grown in Mozambique, and Nawaz is eternally under the influence of ISI-mark opium. Gods in gold and diamond-studded jewellery welcome commoners like me, every year; their hoardings are scheduled to come up soon. Notice the amazing shape and size of moustaches and expressions that the Gods display; these are subject to change every year just like the vagaries of Indian monsoon. You, come soon. To Bombay. India. Truly, Aisa.

Move over Smriti of Modi's degrees, where did Sallu's lawyers study? Which syllabus did they refer to? Who attended college? They? Or their driver? What do they think, will "black bucks" return to India? Where was the bakery? Jodhpur? And the black buck? Bandra? In which case, Lallu was flying a kite in Gujarat? With whom? Er, ok, got it. Was the black buck drunk when it testified? How many hours did Lallu take to digest the black buck? Which car does Lallu's driver like the most: a black Buick or Landcruiser? Now that Lallu is acquitted for black bucks, will Mallya return to India? With Modi? Lalit, I meant. And, who fought the case for the deceased? Sibal? Bhujbal? Or was it someone really Durbal?

Shiva. It’s the holy month of Shravan. A month of faith. Belief. Prayers. O Shiva, grant me wisdom when power, position, money, fame and arrogance come-a-calling. May I always remember where my humble journey began, and the imperative of respecting every one, big or small, rich or poor, literate and the under-privileged. After all, nothing, absolutely nothing, is permanent in your Universe. May I always look at those who are lesser privileged than me and be THANKFUL to you, r...ather than constantly comparing myself to those who are well-to-do! May I always remember that the journey of a thousand vices begins with a single misstep. May I respect women as an epitome of Adi Shakti, your confidante. Respect beyond mere idol worship. Shiva. Temptations lure. Problems galore. Many a raging storms at the shore. It helps to turn to historical folklore; tried, tested and proven, on all occasions, they show how prayers can cure and give the courage to endure. For sure.

India mesmerises me. The Himalayas in the North and the confluence of the mighty Indian Ocean, Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea in the South. An ancient land deep-rooted with many million miles in History, a country that prides itself with world's greatest thinkers, poets, mathematicians, revolutionaries, brave princesses and majestic emperors of yore, a land that witnesses a perfect time for sunrise and sunset every day, and a perfectly balanced skin texture of its populace (FMCG, sorry!) Its extremely sad when we bend to the West for approval and use them as a benchmark for our own individual successes. In any case, I return Home within a Home with respect and admiration for Vivekananda and Thiruvalluvar.

On those rare occasions that I can manage a walk on the street, every pothole reminds me of some thing. That life isn’t always about a swanky International Terminal T2; it's also about the 6.43 pm Kalyan fast. That the water stored in Bombay’s potholes, is sufficient to fill up the entire Gobi desert. That, in life, sometimes roads are meant to be token, and hence a “Swacch Khadda” cess might be on its way. A glimpse into a pothole reveals how the Universe is One, where the inner core of humans remains divided, while that of birds, animals and all other planets is seemingly united. That commoners like me still make our own road and manage to reach office every day, since we’ve got to afford a few gram vegetables and dal-chawal, every fortnight. That Fast-track courts hit potholes too, owing to which a driver and owner displace each other while in-motion. That judgements have potholes whereby brutal convicts and murderers are awarded State-sponsored tailoring shops. After all, UP there, what’s Maya without Daya? As for me, it’s an annual stint with the hole.

Geographically speaking, the radius, width, circumference, diameter, centimeter, perimeter and depth of a crater on SV Road, JVLR, SCLR, Airport road, Hill Road and Ghodbunder Road, is disproportionately vast than craters found on other planets, including, 7 Race Course Road, 24 Akbar Road, 10 Janpath Road and those hills that offer free chills, including Raisina in Delhi and Malabar in Cuffe Parade. Of course, the annual appearance, architecture, creation, expansion and maintenance of these craters remains a mystery. The layman in me estimates their water storage capacity to range from 1-100 litres. By the way, why did a monk sell his Ferrari? Simple, because he couldn’t drive on a road less levelled :-) :-)