To the Revolution

Here's a poem that a very good friend and writer wrote, on India's 57th Republic Day, on 26th January 2006, trying to capture and criticize the new world order of terror and war; a scenario our generation was hitherto unaware of...
I think 3 years down the line, this poem is even more relevant today ... Thanks Varun for letting me use it...

Hey…did you kill me…
in the name of the revolution?
Did you tell me,
The name of the revolution..?
I was a boy, growing up easy,
It was a world, simple and rosy…
"Rosy?", you said, "rosy my foot,"
"Nothing's rosy anymore, life's a brute
"Yeah, life's a brute, 'cos I was dead,
in the name of the revolution.
But….did you tell me,
The name of the revolution..?
And did you tell them,
I am a martyr…?
Did you tell them,
What's a martyr?
Did you tell them,
How I am one?
Did you tell them,
Their own son….…
picked up the gun, and killed two,
In the name of the revolution..?
And did they ask,
The name of the revolution?
To heaven, I would go…
I heard it once,
Yeah, I could hear,
Amid the firing guns,
That heaven is for those,
Who have the gun,
(And a 'resolution')
Then why did I feel,
Five bullets inside my head,
'To hell with the revolution?'
And please, What's the name of the revolution?

Moms shouldn’t fall ill

They shouldn’t…they have no right to…who will deal with the milkman, vegetable boy, maid, etc
But being bought up in the Indian society where Mom’s rule the heartstrings of every child born…with countless bollywood productions having the mater play the pivotal role (a Botoxed rakhi urging her Karan & Arjun to finish off the evil thakur, a cuddly Reema Lagoo giving her gold bangles to her son’s sweetheart just to indulge her son Salman Khan in Maine Pyar Kiya…to Kiron Kher not being able to decide what to call her son’s partner in Dostana).
But can one ever imagine a mom to be gone from the house that she builds … I frankly didn’t. I did imagine a life on my own where I would cook my own meals, do my own washing and nurse myself back from the occasional fever (all the while suppressing thoughts of moms calming touch on my hot forehead)…but I had never bargained for a role reversal… where I had to look after my mom…can this species called ‘Mother’ afford to fall ill??
My answer is no…they do not have the luxury or should I say they should not have the luxury of calling in sick one day…as my mom recently did… I came running to take charge …eager to follow in my mom’s footsteps and managing both home and hearth…little did I know the challenges that lay in front of me! Forget taking care of both home and mom… it was a wonder that I could find the salt and sugar in the kitchen… do moms have an internal catalog of all bottles and a flowchart of all jobs to be done in a day…from jhaadu-poocha, dusting, laundry, cooking 3 different meals making sure there is something special for each individual …according to their taste and medical history…phew… that’s a lot of work…and I have not even listed the Aarti and Pooja and the numerous telephone calls …making people listen to you… I ended up bossing everyone and cooking bad meals at the cost of either the laundry or the Aarti, or something or the other… I was not able to complete all the tasks… I did not get the MOM ISO certificate…sob sob… I still have a long way to go.
Isn’t this the reason that before gender equality became a hep word, the male species used to subjugate the female species to home only…they were afraid that the same efficiency would render them incompetent…as is proved nowadays?
Well enough beating around the bush…all I want to say is that…mom plz get well soon and come back home and manage it like clockwork…give me the relief so that I can concentrate on my work and do what I am good at…nothing!