Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, communal, criticism, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, india, indians, inspiration, jinnah, Life, love, national, Pakistan, pakistani, Partition, peace, personal, social, terrorism, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Pakistan Kills 2, India Kills 2…

I was going about with my morning routine; tea, breakfast and reading newspaper. Then I came across this picture which moved me to tears….

An innocent kid weeping incessantly over the mutiliated body of his father. The question isn’t here who did it. The question here is why? And for how long????!!! 
Pakistan kills 2, India kills 2. 
Children from both sides become orphans. Women from both sides become widows. Hostility grows. And for what? Only to satiate the egos of a few politicians? What personal enmity you and I have with Pakistan? Or what personal enmity does a kid or even an adult in Pakistan has with us? Nothing! 
But this killing is unstoppable. Blood is shed over and over again. We discuss this over and over again. But who listens? 
Hate has made us hopeless maniacs. We follow the herd and join the ‘I Hate Pakistan’ club. Without even knowing why it came into being. Without even knowing our follies. 
But how does that matter to this little kid now? He has lost his father forever. A father, for god’s sake! I can’t imagine in my dreams living without my father. I commit mistakes. I prance around proudly. Why? Because I know my father is there to protect me always. 
But this kid’s father was there to protect to us all. And he died. Mercilessly. 
We weep when an Indian soldier dies. But rejoice when a Pakistani soldiers dies. Why? Wasn’t he a father? Or a son? Didn’t he have any family that will mourn just like this little kid?  
How can we be so negligent towards the emotions of their families? Why can’t we all come together and stand firm on the face of the governments of both the countries that we don’t want violence. If you guys have a problem, then just stop talking. Why kill innocent people from both sides??? 
My heart pains… 
Love and respect,

H💔

Posted in award, bank, banking, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, communal, criticism, hate, humanity, india, indians, inspiration, national, peace, personal, social, Uncategorized, writing

Demonetization- The Story Of An Indian Banker

Disclaimer: BEWARE! Bhakts will find it offensive (A LOT!!)

 

Okay. I apologize for being so late in putting forth my views on this whole ‘demonetization saga’. But I had to get hold of all the niche details of this drama that is costing an array of problems to the aam aadmi (pun intended).

 

First of all, it started on 8th of November when I was happily scrolling through my Instagram feeds and it has taken a toll on me ever since. So, I’m gonna jot down some of the (many!) obvious loopholes in this so-called ‘bravest ever step taken’ by a ’56-inch chest guy’.

 

  1. The Black Money Loophole: Duh! Bundles of cash lying in peoples mattresses and tijoris is now a piece of sh*t. And, I’m not the one boasting of this achievement. The writers of the demonetization saga claim so. As an Indian banker, I’ve had first hand experience of most, if not all, black money holders using their servants and their wives and their kids to put their sh*t together. And I’m not even kidding, mitron. We, the bankers (slash puppets) are helpless. Also, I was very little when I heard of the phrase that goes like this- All that glitters is not GOLD. And on 8th of November, I got a solid proof. All that glitters is not GOLD, it is BLACK! Black money, white money, gold money. It’s all equal now.
  2. The Black Money Loophole-2: I mean since November the 8th I’ve heard so much of this black money ragas that I can’t just put forth the facts in one point now, do I? So, it is not a banker secret that people are hiring daily wage workers at near about 450-500 bucks per day to get their black money exchanged. Now, how many of these poor workers will the 56-inch chest get hold of? 0.1%? Okay, I’m underrating him. 0.2%. I can’t rise the stakes more than this, please.
  3. The V.V.I.P. Loophole: So, my brother is currently pursuing his grad and still got some 10,000 bucks of old notes. But, the Adanis and Ambanis and Tatas and Birlas own something the size of Lesotho (it’s a country, in case the Bhakts don’t know) and still I spot Rajus and Ramus and Sonus and Monus in the long queues. Hmm. Guess these corporate people only use Bitcoins or maybe they are the face of PayTM! Right.
  4. The Aam Aadmi Loophole: On 10th of November I entered my branch and a middle-aged man came running to me saying that his daughter is sick and he needs to get medicines for her. He even showed me the prescription in case you Bhakts cry a foul. It was early in the morning and we managed to help him. But after that we’ve heard a lot of sad tales and even the newspapers are filled with the stories of the poor and the not-so-poor that they are suffering the most in this money crisis. I read news of how elderly people die standing in long queues. Once, I tried to help an octogenarian by depositing his money from the backside and the customers started shouting. It took me a while to explain them that it isn’t my money and that the elderly man had some kind of knee problem. Only after looking at him they cooled down. But what kind of a ruthless PM sends his 90 year old mother to stand in a queue? I’m amazed that people chant his name and nobody came forward to even stand in the queue for his mother. Thank god for photo-ops 😉
  5. The 2,000 Note Loophole: I mean what a breakthrough, man! What a breakthrough! Printing a 2,000 bucks note for a nation that majorly constitutes of lower middle class people. That deserves a slow clap. Okay, so next time when I go to buy cheeni and daal and some chai-patti, I should give a 2,000 rupee note for some 200-250 rupees bill. Okay. And I should enlighten you all that people are reluctant to take 2,000 rupee note but they have to because of point number 6.
  6. The Management Loophole: So, yeah. Point number 6. The currency-crunch. From the stroke of midnight, all 500 and 1000 rupee notes will become blah blah blah. And we’ll have new currency. But where the hell is new currency? Every single day we are telling customers that we don’t have cash. Yes, banks, where you get your money deposited and where you should get your withdrawals, are out of cash. Common sight, is it?
  7. The Banker Loophole: They wanna kill us. Literally. I don’t know what it was but on 10th of November itself I came home with 102 degree fever. We have worked overtime. We work on the Sundays. We are still working overtime, even though the working hours are from 10-4. We are working late. But we are not getting anything, I mean of course with the exception of abusive hurls and in some cases manhandling by the customers.
  8. The Miracle Loophole: I know this government came into being just because of its promises of miracles and it is keeping up with its promises in its own cute,childish ways, but it should learn how to take criticism from two of the most learned economists of our times- Dr Manmohan Singh Ji and Raghuram Rockstar Rajan. Raghuram Rajan objected to demonetization even before it was being looked into as a possibility. He clearly told the loopholes that I explained to you in detail. And I’m amazed how each one of his apprehensions or rather arguments are coming true one after the other. And what can I say about Dr Manmohan Singh Ji. In his very own humble way, he showed the lost government the path to make good the damage it has already done, to the country, to the banking system and most importantly to the common man whose sufferings don’t seem to end.

Well, people are hailing the decision of their PM. But only those who own smartphones and who voice their opinion on social media through memes and tweets. But, I urge you all to reach out to those who really got effected by this money crunch. They don’t own smartphones to buy groceries online through their credit cards. All they want is simple life, and that my mitron, is a distant dream.

 

P.S.- You can go ahead and have a good debate of how I don’t love my country 😉

 

XOXO,

H

 

The Distant Freedom

I met a boy,

Distressed beyond words,

Crying relentlessly,

His appearance was shabby.

It was my curiosity,

That led me to him.

“Why are you crying?

O! Little child?”

At first he was a bit startled.

Looked at me straight in the eyes.

Then a weak voice came out,

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

Now that I observed him,

Closely.

I couldn’t let him cry,

No.

So, I gained a bit of courage,

To ask this weeping, innocent child,

The cause of his distress.

This time, 

He was less wary of me.

Somehow, we both connected.

A feeble voice struggled to say,

“Baba is beating maa..”

And there I was,

Standing,

My hand on his shoulders,

I was speechless.

I was grappling with words.

What do I say?

How do I console?

How do I tell this little soul,

What his father is doing,

Is awry, beyond words..?

This guy lives a mile away,

From my neighborhood.

Fell in love,

With a damsel,

A heart that loved all.

People all around,

Frowned.

Love before marriage?

O! They were all embarrassed!!

Alas! Their love story,

Was short-lived.

Just like many,

We witness daily.

My friend had a dream,

To paint this world red,

The color of love.

She held her brush,

Dipped it in crimson pigment.

As soon as she took the brush out,

Her father held her hand,

Threw the brush away,

And placed a book there, instead.

She now lives a life,

In strife.

Disputes, her existence.

What was so wrong with the brush,

Anyways?

There’s a girl I see,

On the traffic signal, everyday.

Greets me with a huge smile,

And extends me a flower each time.

Wears a torn frock,

Always barefoot,

Hair gone blonde in the sun,

Skin, dry and broken…

I buy a rose from her,

For ten bucks,

Thinking,

I have bought a piece of bread for her.

And then we part ways,

Only to meet the next day.

I see, and I remain quiet.

I choose.

I choose to remain quiet.

Because I have the FREEDOM.

Yes. The FREEDOM.

Domestic violence.

Well, I should remain in silence.

Two hearts,

Forced to be apart.

Sounds too amusing,

For a gossip to kickstart!

Dreams of youth,

Kept under wraps.

This word ‘freedom’ that they taught us,

Well, it was just a trap!

Children asking for money,

On the streets.

O! Poor thing.

I may as well give.

But taxes?

Eh! How can I give it a miss?

Freedom has come down to,

Being a relative word.

For some,

It is a right.

To some,

It doesn’t come,

Even after a fair fight.

Only those celebrate it,

Who overlook its true meaning.

For the real thing is,

Freedom has never been ours…

 

P.S.- Be it Bhagat Singh, Chandrashekhar Azad or Jawaharlal Nehru; we Indians have always loved our country. Since past 70 years, we are celebrating what has gone by and keeping our eyes shut to what is happening. Winning our country back from the Britishers was not freedom. Doing anything that doesn’t harm anybody is freedom. And I’m sorry to say, that freedom has not arrived yet. So, why not work towards it? Why not work to make our beloved country an ideal country? Let’s leave all the apprehensions behind. Let’s unite in uniting this country towards the cause of love; love that has shaken the very being of the strongest of hatred prevailing in this world. For, we live only once and let’s unite to make this one life worth living 🙂

 

Happy independence day, my fellow Indians 🙂

 

XOXO,

H

Posted in 9/11, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, communal, criticism, dreams, gandhi, hate, hatred, humanity, india, indians, jinnah, Life, love, national, nehru, Pakistan, pakistani, Partition, peace, religion, social, terrorism, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Pakistan’s Obsession With Kashmir

#IAMBurhanWani #IndiaCantSee #LetKashmirDecide

 

“141 die in a brutal Peshawar massacre”

“Women students killed in a bombing in Quetta”

“Amjab Sabri shot dead in Karachi”

“Twin suicide bombings hit Peshawar church; 127 dead”

 

And many more headlines like these.

 

I am not a Pakistan hater. I sympathize each time some untoward incident happens and takes away the lives of innocent people (not Pakistanis, nor Muslims), but people, human beings to be precise.

 

And we are all aware how convoluted Pakistan politics is. Youth icon Imran Khan celebrates the failed coup attempt in Turkey and ‘encourages’ Pakistani people to welcome a coup in their country, too. A country which celebrated the handover of power from one democratically elected government to another in 2013 (though, reports came out that the elections were rigged), is being told to give up all of that. Bravo! We all know how dictatorship has ruined Pakistan. We all know how dictatorship has ruined nations across the world. But, yeah, Pakistan Tehreek-e-insaaf chief endorses that very ideology which has prevented Pakistan to flourish.

 

Male-chauvinists lambaste a girl who wanted to shun the norms set for women across the society and the result is her being brutally murdered by her brother. Though, I am glad that her death was mourned over by majority of Pakistanis. But accept it people, it is us who are responsible for her death.

 

I sometimes wonder what is so wrong with the ideology ‘westernization’? Aren’t there people living in the West too? Don’t they have any feelings? Are they all bad? Then what harm is it that when someone tries to embrace the western culture, he or she is shamed to such an extent that they lose all hope in their very own ‘cultured society’? Thank you people for inciting the murder of Qandeel Baloch.

 

Some retards think of it as an act of bravery to shoot innocent, unarmed schoolchildren in Peshawar. There is some utmost sense of satisfaction that these retards feel while carrying out such ghastly coward acts. Similar to it is the Quetta attack where these retards killed innocent women students just to prove that women are fit to be housewives. Well, they feel threatened of these brave women and hence, they decide to silence their burning hearts with suicide bombings.

 

Why am I picking on the worst in Pakistan when it is like my dreamland? Well, I’m sick and tired of Pakistan’s ‘utterly obnoxious obsession’ with Kashmir. I don’t say that India is a perfect country. I won’t justify it. And I’ve got my own political views. But, Pakistan has this peculiar habit of putting their nose in everything ‘bad’ that is happening in India. It’s like, they’ve got such strong views about us Indians as if we are some outsiders and they are the victims of all the ‘injustice’ taking place in India. And I don’t know when they will realize that Kashmir is a part of India. And no matter how much they like to endorse this view that India has forcefully held Kashmir, they will never be able to prove it.

 

There are people like Shah Faesal out there in Kashmir who are realizing that all this ‘Azadi’ game is futile. If you want a better life, you’ve got to go the traditional way- education and a good job. But no, the Pakistani propaganda is to cripple the Kashmiris and make martyrs out of several Burhan Wanis.

 

One armed Burhan Wani dies and Pakistan announces a Black Day. But what about those unarmed, innocents that die everyday in Pakistan? Well, Pakistan is an intelligent state. They’ve got an answer to every question I’ll put forth. The innocents that are dying each day inside the Pakistani territory is all India’s fault just like the ‘innocents’ like Burhan Wani dying in India is India’s fault.

 

It is high time that we all realize that there are two nations- India and Pakistan. Not a saint (Pakistan) which is always crying foul of a devil (India) forcefully holding its self-declared child (Kashmir). And it is time for us Indians to realize the same too. Let Pakistan be, what it is. But I guess the firing (virtual) won’t stop anytime soon. It pains me to see that even the youth, which were the only hope, are also die-hard enemies of the two states. Nobody really endorses peace. Because hate sells faster than love. Can you imagine Modi winning an election by talking all sugar-coated stuff for Pakistan? Same for Nawaz Sharif and the likes of Imran Khan?

 

Nobody is ready to accept this fact. We all go on and on strewing hate at each other as if we have looted and killed each other’s family members. We all have been blinded by these hate-strewing politicians. But no, it is too straight a fact to justify it all, isn’t it?

 

Aren’t Indian army-men braving the stone-pelters in Kashmir? The army-men who are one among us. Born in ordinary families like ours and trying to save innocent lives. How hard is it to believe this fact? No one in Pakistan cries and photoshops stupid pictures when Indian army-men die, and that too daily. Children become orphans when their brave fathers die fighting the terrorists in Kashmir. But no, it doesn’t really matter. Why? Out of my understanding…

 

So, I urge all Pakistanis to get over their obsession of Kashmir and their never-ending hate for India. It won’t budge us Indians to think any less of our Kashmiri brothers and sisters.

 

That’s all I gotta say.

 

Praying for my Kashmiri brothers and sisters.

 

XOXO,

H ❤ 

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, india, indians, inspiration, Life, love, love poetry, Pakistan, pakistani, Partition, peace, personal, poetry, religion, social, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

To The Angel In Jannah

Your demeanor,

Your smile,

Your eyes,

And your heart’s might.

This world has seen all.

Beautiful Angel,

Rest in peace.

 

A child’s cry,

A dog’s whine.

Your heart saw pain,

And did best to rectify.

 

Our eyes are full.

Tears that won’t stop flowing.

What have you done, Angel?

Oh dear, Angel!

Left us in absolute abyss..

 

But you are a beacon,

A beacon of hope,

A beacon of love,

Who not only taught us,

But engraved in us,

The true meaning of humanity.

 

Up there, you will witness,

A miracle.

A miracle you gave birth to.

People loving people.

Parents loved by children.

Women flying high.

Sick, far away from dying.

 

You ignited this fire.

We will carry it forward.

Oh dear, Angel!

Thank you for being you.

The truest form of humanity.

 

Why do I feel,

A part of you in me?

Why do I feel,

You taking care of me?

 

These borders they created,

Are meaningless, my Angel.

You lived in a forbidden land,

But I feel you right here.

 

Mercy; you gave birth to this word.

Oh dear, Angel of Mercy.

Humanity, taught by many,

But it is you who personifies it.

 

What is happening in this world?

Dear Angel, show us a path,

To eliminate this hatred.

Humans killing humans.

Dear Angel, we need you…

 

But,

You’ve done your part.

Done enough for us to realize,

That no one is an enemy.

Now it is up to us,

To love,

Love beyond the man-made ambit…

 

Thank you dear Angel,

You are my shining star..

 

P.S.– World after 8 July, 2016 is not the same. We’ve lost the greatest of great, the man who embraced humans as they are, irrespective of their identity as we know it, Abdul Sattar Edhi. Edhi sahib was what we can only dream of. For him, humans were his family. He knew love and hence, gave it exorbitantly. Animals were as dear to him as us, humans. He couldn’t see anyone in pain. From nothing, he built an empire; an empire of love, humanity and mercy. He was a father to millions. He fed millions. He, who defied all odds to serve the very purpose he was sent into this world. We all are sent into this world to help each other. So, let us all follow the path he showed us all. Defy all boundaries that we’ve constructed around us and give as much as we can. Anything that can comfort an ailing heart, give it. Comfort others. Love them. I think, that would be a real tribute to the greatest philanthropist of our time.

 

Forever in my heart.

 

XOXO,

H

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, dreams, feminism, gandhi, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, independence day, india, indians, jinnah, Life, love, national, nehru, Pakistan, pakistani, Partition, peace, personal, poetry, punjab, punjabi, religion, social, terrorism, Uncategorized, war, writing

That Forbidden Land

Does this bird fly,

High in the sky,

In that forbidden land?

I wonder…

 

Children go to school.

Their bags stacked with books.

Mothers make breakfast.

In that forbidden land.

I wonder?

 

Did she marry,

The man of her dreams?

Did she go out,

To pursue her dreams?

In that forbidden land,

I wonder?

 

Friends going on long drives.

Girls giggling in posh cafes.

Ladies gossiping on streets.

Does this happen for real?

In that forbidden land,

I wonder?

 

That forbidden land,

Have swathes of paddy fields.

Children sleeping on footpaths,

It also has a bunch of women,

Who set an example for humanity.

 

That forbidden land,

Have grandpas and grandmas,

Who tell bedtime stories,

To children just like ours.

 

Can I join them too?

Can I be a part of their dreams?

Can I not understand their feelings?

In that forbidden land,

I wonder…

 

Our history the same,

Our ancestors fought for the same cause.

But we fail to identify,

That our existence rests upon love.

 

We bicker and fight,

Trying to bring each other down.

For past sixty years, what have we reaped?

Come on, give me an answer?

 

Kids cry, wail and then laugh.

Kids, theirs and ours.

What difference is it,

That makes them our enemies?

In that forbidden land,

I wonder?

 

Heer is befuddled,

To which side she lost her lover?

Ranjha roams in every street,

Which world stole from him his Heer?

 

Put your hand on your heart.

And then think it through.

Would you like the same hate?

The abuse you shower at them?

 

What is their fault?

What did they do?

Because of a bunch of politicians,

Billions of us suffer.

 

Born in the same land.

Our problems, the same.

Then instead of sympathy,

Why so much of hatred?

 

We humans will bring Doomsday,

Soon, very soon.

Why don’t we then bring in love?

And let those wounds soothe?

 

That forbidden land,

The land we all belong to

That forbidden land,

Is waiting for you, too…

STOP STREWING HATE AT PAKISTAN JUST BECAUSE IT IS PAKISTAN. #LOVEISTHEONLYSOLUTION 

indopak_jpg_1261225g

XOXO,

H

Posted in communal, dadri, hate

Because, I CAN..

My country, India, is struggling to cope with the rising communal tension brewing up in different states. Somewhere, the religious sentiments of a community are heralded, and somewhere a rumor gets a man killed..

I will not blame any religion, any politician, any single state. Because I am no one to blame. I am the one to be blamed. This society, the apparently ‘diverse‘ one, that I boast of while writing essays or giving speeches, constitutes of people like me. And when I am involved, when I am the culprit, then who am I to blame someone?

You see, I get offended when people of a certain religion or state or whatever, do what they’ve done for centuries. Yes! I suddenly get offended by it all! Why? Because, I CAN! Ever heard of ‘Freedom of Speech‘? Yeah, I have that in my country. And the most powerful right that I have is ‘The Right to Freedom of Religion’ guaranteed by Article 15 and Article 25 of the Constitution of India. And I very well know, how to exercise it.

I wanna share a small incident (well, sort of). Today when I woke up, this is what I read about..

news

26 years old man. Yes. 26 years old only. Killed at the border. Why did he die? He could have spent a comfortable life in Ludhiana, my hometown, his hometown too! Because, that is what I do! I lead a comfortable life! But you know what? He chose not to! He went there and fought with the infiltrators for my sake! I slept peacefully in my room because I knew that brave-hearts like Surinder Singh can die for my safety. He was supposed to get married on 27th of November, that is the next month. He helped built a home for his family, which he never got a chance to see..

If this noble soul can die for me, what can I do for him? I sit back and see the hatred spewed on his countrymen. I sit back and see innocent people being killed for eating beef, which they have been doing since forever. I sit back and see his family members suffer because they’ve lost their breadwinner, but most importantly, their son, their brother. Because, I CAN!

But I will still suppress the freedom of others. Because I CAN! I will go on killing/lynching innocents. I will go on spreading hate for certain people because they were born in a certain family. I will go on keeping a tab on someone’s plate (or fridge!). Because, I CAN!

XOXO,

H