It’s that time of the year again to send “Maa tuze salaam”, “Mera Bharat Mahan” and “Rang de basanti cholaa” SMSs. :-) Over the years I have gone through a rainbow of emotions – as a kid I watched the parades and flag unfurling ceremony with immense pride and joy, as a teenager sniggered at the clichéd songs like “Mere desh ki dharati”, “Hai preet jaha ki reet sada” and “Jaha daal daal par soneki chidiya karati hai basera” that used to be blared from the loudspeakers throughout that day, as a young busy professional enjoyed the day away from office just lolling about and now - now life has come full circle. I am back to being the kid who watches the Tricolor unfurling with joy and pride – just that these feelings are now tinged with a concern about this country called India which is my Motherland.

Terrorists are slaughtering innocent people to attain God knows what goals. And the malady that has been plaguing us since we got independence – communal tension – refuses to die down. As if that’s not enough some states are at times at loggerheads with each other. When I read such news I am filled with dread – will we break up like the USSR? Is that what destiny has in store for India?

Then I turn the page and invariably I come across some other news – the kind that always gets tucked in the inner pages of the newspaper. I read that the Teach India campaign launched by the Times of India to teach children has met with such overwhelming response from Indians from all walks of life – homemakers, lawyers, businessmen, doctors, retired people – that they have asked some of these volunteers to stand by while they arrange to boost up the capacity of the participating NGOs. I read about young people who are doing what they can to better the lot of others born less fortunate.

I wasn’t among those who danced in the streets 61 years ago as we got our independence. I probably might not be around when we celebrate 100 years of independence. I am caught somewhere in the twilight zone.

When I look back I see those who made the ultimate sacrifice that a human can - of his/her life. This post is to salute those who died to get us this freedom.

When I look around I see moments of frustration but I see moments of hope too. This post is also to salute those who are working hard to build a better future for our country. And that includes those guarding the borders - our Armed Forces.

I can’t look into the future but somewhere there I hope is future India which is full of peace and happy smiling faces. I don’t care whether we become the superpower or not. I agree with the King of Bhutan – Gross National Happiness is the thing worth striving for. I hope India tops the world on this chart.

This, my dear country, is my wish and prayer for you on this Independence Day because as Juhi Chawla says in the Kurkure ad - “Tedha hai par mera hai” :-)

I was mightily entertained by Pervez Musharraf’s address at the “Azadi Show”. I mean look at this guy – he doesn’t have a clue about where he is going to spend his retirement years. Yet, his heart (does he have any?) beats for Kashmir. The word “Chaos” is simply inadquate to describe the mess in Pakistan. And yet, he is condemning the “Human Rights Violation” in the neighboring nation. He asserts that every Pakistani is “with their brothers and sisters in Kashmir”. And yet, history tells us that this very man never wasted a moment in sparing any thought for his “brothers and sisters in Pakistan”.

C’mon Mush, give us a break, will you? Haven’t you heard the expression “you cannot fool all the people all the time”? Do you really think that the world is naïve enough to believe that you are concerned about those in India who you call your “breathren”? We all know it’s the land that your heart beats for.

But tell me one thing - just what the hell is Pakistan going to do even if it gets Kashmir? We can all see what you have done with what you got in 1947. Can you please set your house in order before advising neighbors on how to restore order in theirs? You don’t have to take the advice “Love thy neighbor” to heart so much.

Oh and BTW, I hope you have figured out what to do in your spare time (now that you will get so much!) because I am sure Begam Musharraf won’t be too pleased if you just hang about the house (wherever that is going to be) doing nothing. :-) Happy Retirement!

I am jealous of Abhinav Bindra! Oh, don't get me wrong. As an Indian I am immensely proud of what he has achieved. But I am jealous because how many of us can even hope of a once-in-a-lifetime chance of making our country proud? :-)

Jokes apart, I just hope that this is the beginning and not the end of India's medals count in the Olympic.

And I hope and pray that his win will inspire droves of young Indian sports enthusiasts to flock to sports other than cricket. I hope it isn't too much to hope for. :-)

The 3 mistakes of my life (SPOILER)

Note: If you haven’t read this book yet but plan to read, skip this entire post.

In my recent post I had mentioned that I liked Chetan Bhagat’s “One night at a call center” better than his “Five Point Someone”. Somehow, I liked his latest offering “The 3 mistakes of my life” even lesser than “Five Point Someone”. And the most irritating aspect is that I am not able to put my finger on exactly why.

But I will give it a try. Let me see, I thought I could identify with the three 21-year old central characters – Govind, who after his father walked out on them is supplementing his mom’s snacks selling business with his math tuitions and sports shop which he runs with his two friends; Ish (he reminds me so much of Vroom from the call center book) who is crazy about cricket and Omi, who ends up at the shop because that lets him hang out with his friends besides saving him from becoming a priest like his dad. I could also understand the RamJanmabhoomi-Babri Masjid backdrop against which the story unfolds. Then walks in Ali – a muslim prodigy who can hit 4 straight sixers. Ishaan takes him under his wings and the 3 friends try to do the best that they can for him – Omi a bit reluctantly at first. In the meantime, Govind falls for Ish’s sister Vidya who is taking math tuitions from him.

Things started getting a bit unrealistic for me when the 3 friends end up in Goa to seek the visiting Aussie teams’ opinion about Ali. And if that wasn’t enough, they fly off Down Under to one of the Aussie player’s Sports Academy for a week! After we have been given a generous dose of Aussie slang like “mate” and “fair dinkum”, Ali declares that he would rather take his chances against playing in Team India than become a resident of the Kangaroo land for the rest of his life. The friends come back to India with Ali in tow.

And then Godhra happens. Omi’s maternal uncle, Bittoomama, loses his only child in the massacre. And baying for Ali’s blood he descends upon the abandoned bank where the 3 friends are holed up with Ali as the city goes up in flames all around them.

I couldn’t help but think that after this point the novel plot resembles that of a Hindi potboiler. Honestly, what will be your first reaction if an intoxicated mob brandishing Trishuls and other assorted weapons comes charging at your door? Will you call the cops or decide to deal with the matter yourself? I don’t know about you but I would dial 100 – even if I think of the possibility that the cops could be hand in glove with the crowd. Better still, I would try to find out the number of a local newspaper or TV channel and contact them along with the cops. Even if you allow for the fact that these friends were flustered and panicked, you can’t understand why they decide to reason with the crowd. Moreover, they manage to fight the crowd by setting the premises on fire! This sounds so much like some Hollywood movie plot – starring Bruce Willis/Sly/Jean Claude. :-)

After this my only interest in reading the novel to the end was to find out who died and who lived. Omi dies saving the kid – reminding me of the proverbial hero’s best friend who dies saving either the hero or the hero’s leading lady (who he too has tragically fallen in love with – in 9 out of 10 instances!). What’s more bizarre, Govind, Ali and Ish manage to kill Bittoomama and his remaining henchmen. What is this - one of Sunny Deol’s action movies?

And then the final scene in the hospital where the author who is visiting Govind (he is in for stomach pumping after trying to commit suicide by popping sleeping pills!) manages to bring back Vidya (who is packed off to Mumbai after her parents find out about her affair with Govind) and Ish (who stops talking to Govind after he finds out in the climax that Govind has been sleeping with his sis) so that they can forgive him. The only thing that is missing is the clichéd Gajar ka Halwa and Mooli ke parathe. As this story takes place in Guajrat, I almost waited for the plates of doodhpak and theplas to make an appearance. ;-)

On top of it, we get to hear a philosophical lecture from Govind’s Ba about how you should forgive people even if they hurt you and about how our country needs to learn this too. Dear Ba, in case you haven’t been reading newspapers lately, what our country needs urgently is a better crackdown on the terrorist organizations, a speedy judicial system that will punish the guilty so as to deter others like them and people in droves from both communities who will work hard towards dispelling the centuries’ old misunderstandings.

All said and done, Chetan, mate, fair dinkum, yeh book kuchh hazam nahi hui :-(