Why That Relationship Shouldn’t, and Wouldn’t Last

Some recent circumstances led me to this mirror shattering revelation that friendships can suddenly break into nothing but shreds and pieces of memories that once relished your mind. I know, you must wonder what is so new in this. Aren’t human relationships, in general, platonic? They’re bound to crash regularly. I’m not here to tell you that life runs its course, people change and all the other bullshit that your neighbourhood optimists preach. No! I’m here to share, how with this experience I understood an important rational aspect of the human nature.

I understood that the only thing that keeps us together is not our profound love for the other person; it’s not even the likes/hatreds we share. That is a ubiquitously altered perception created in your mind, the perception of the constant need to maintain and encourage healthy emotional relationships. The idea of a society, sanctuary and safety for all, has somehow introduced within us, a particular affinity for relationships. With civilization came a series of realizations- our responsibility towards our family, our community, our state, our country, the human race and eventually the whole world. These subtly affected the process of the nurturing of our brain, our young innocent fragile minds. So when on your 3rd birthday, you looked at all the happy faces, you began to understand, that happiness multiplies when shared with close ones. Plus all the famous movies said it too. When you became a teenager, the people with most friends were considered the happiest, the outgoing-popular-extroverts who everyone liked. Come the pre-adult years, and everyone around you had a special someone they would go out on movies with. And couples all around you looked happy, strolling the streets, hand in hand, laughing and blushing over their conversations. And with this, the idea of creating strong threads of contact with other humans became more and more deeply embedded in your mind. By the time you become an adult, the hardships of responsibilities and the absence of honest and real people makes you cherish the deep bond you share with your childhood friends even more. And eventually, you settle into a cocoon of emotions that time and opinions have created around you. Effectively, what I believe is that we were raised into a community of socially adept monkeys who, after suddenly progressing under the reign of language, believe that integration of humans is the way to go.

“United we stand, divided we fall”
“All for one, and one for all”

But unity or coming together is not always the solution. What we are taught is not necessarily the right way. And now you might question, so why, day in day out, I go against my discernment and endure the everyday toils of friendship? Maybe the answer you expect isn’t the one I’m going to give, for like I told you, I’m not here to sell rainbows. The reason behind friendship is nothing, but the basic requirements to fulfill social and psychological constraints. You don’t worry about how much you will miss the person. The real fear, the true trepidation, is the idea of trying to somehow fit this ending into the already existing notions of society in your mind. How will people react to the fact that you suddenly stopped talking to him/her? What about all the common friends/relatives we share? Shouldn’t I accept their flaws? Isn’t human relationship about compromise? These questions, somehow lead to the introduction of a characteristic guilt, which in turn makes you accept things as they are. Things continue ahead as they previously did, until you are forced into the same questions again, and until you choose the same answers. You request people for advice, but all they ask you to do is forgive and move on, which mind you, is something you should do. But are all friendships/relationships worth the effort? No. A simple study of the human nature shows you how susceptible we are to making mistakes under certain circumstances. Sometimes these mistakes, they tend to stick with us. And these mistakes can be 5 or 10 years old, but they still remain mistakes. This deeply rooted belief, of the importance to maintain human relationships, has to go. Don’t misunderstand me, everyone needs a certain amount of human contact, to motivate their spirit, to double their happiness; but that time, in quantity and quality is not what has been defined for us, hard-wired into our brains. We need to be choosing this for ourselves, like we need to choose our endings. (Endings should not be hurtful, specifically if you want these endings) But what you don’t choose is the society you live in, which only seems right because it compares anything and everything with its own perception. But when the greatest men/women have failed to introspect and establish an unbiased cognitive opinion, what makes you think 7 billion average humans can do that collectively. So if you have somehow managed to read through this “so called pessimistic” view of relationships, consider this the next time before you make a decision about friendships- People might have changed, life might have changed and you might have changed, but in the end these things should not matter, because in all true sense, if you think it has to end, it has to end. Don’t conform to the regulations of society; it was created by drunken fools who were too busy maintaining friendships.

P.S.- This was written a long time ago, and I was reluctant to post it here, given how people might call it a pessimistic view on human relationships. I’ve tried to weigh relationships via the logic that initiated the idea of togetherness in humans, and if this comes out as a negative view of the same, then I humbly point out that this is a subjective opinion and that you shouldn’t judge the rest of the blog via this particular post. Thank you for your time.


It was 2 am in the night when his phone rang.
‘Sudha..please..attend it’ he commanded, half asleep. The phone kept ringing.


Sudha lay silent. And the truth dawned upon him.
He opened one eye and threw his hand on the bedside table to grab his spectacles.


No one replied.



He banged the phone and returned to his deep sleep.

It rained heavily the next day. It was Sunday and Sunday rain reminded him of her. She would prepare a hot cup of coffee for him while he read his favorite book. There was a comfort in her presence. Something magnificent about the silence. Only this time, the silence pinched him. He wished someone would prepare him a steamy cup of coffee just like Sudha did. With less milk and extra sugar. He wished he had thanked her for that cup.

‘Thankyou Sudha..’ he whispered. She would have smiled. The same smile when she had served him tea for the first time in her maternal house. Oldage did many things to her but never dared to touch her smile.

The ringing phone disrupted his memories.

‘Hello. Col. Vimal Rai speaking.’

‘Helloo Vimal!’ said the jolly voice on the other end and he instantly knew who it was.

‘Col. Singh! How are you..’

‘I am good Vimal! My wife and I are throwing a party on our 25th anniversary day after! It would be a pleasure to have you there!’

‘Ofcourse! The 23rd you mean?’

‘Yes yes! Do bring Sudha along! My wife wishes to meet her!’

This part was the most arduous of all. Gathering the right words, repeating the incidence and hours of condolence.

‘Sudha..Sudha passed away four months back Singh’

‘Oh! We are..we are shocked Vimal..we are sorry..we couldn’t be there for you..’

‘That’s ok Singh..Will see you day after’

‘Sure! See you Vimal..’

Short and crisp. Just the way he wanted this conversation to be. He immediately noted down the date and the event in his diary. Without Sudha, it was hard for him to remember things.

He returned to the balcony to drown in his thoughts. He took his chair along by lifting it. No screeching noises. As soon as he held the chair to sit, he found his fingers buried in dust.

Oh, how he hated dust. The mere sight of it would bring out his worst temper. Dust in His house was absolutely unacceptable!!

‘Sudhaaa!!!!’ he yelled.

Later, he cleaned the chair with his old pair of undergarment. He hated this task. Even the dust missed Sudha. She would keep the entire house as clean as a rich man’s boots. In that moment, he sighed and whispered..’Thankyou Sudha..’

The doorbell rang. Foola ushered herself inside the house. He wanted to complain about the untidy mess all around but he didn’t know how to. Talking to maids was too shallow to him and these were Sudha’s matters to handle. Her department. But, he had to survive.

‘Ahem..Foola ji..its been two days and I have observed that..that the house is very dirty..especially the corners..and the floor below the table..and the bathrooms’
Foola stood aghast. He had never said a word to her in five years. She was so scared that she swallowed her pan as it is.

‘Sahab..I I don’t clean bathrooms. Sudha Madam knew it…And I can’t bend too much..you see.. I am a patient of arthritis.. Sudha Madam..knew..I will clean the corners carefully..’

Even the servants missed her.

He wore his favorite black suit for the party that night. Just the way Sudha would have liked it. She would have worn that red saree with golden borders. Once she was ready, nobody could believe it was Sudha. Not even him. She would look marvelous in those gold earrings he had once gifted her. She would compliment him while wearing the black bindi in front of the mirror.

‘Looking nice Vimal’

And he would smile proudly.

‘You look beautiful Sudha..’ he murmured as he stood there staring at the bindi stuck on the mirror.

The party was monotonous. Everybody thought of him as a poor pig and offered their sympathies because everybody loved Sudha. He wished she was around so that he could tell her how Mr Dubey’s son was hogging on food. That Fat Goblet. She would have giggled.

‘Vimal! You musn’t say that!’

He locked the main door and changed his clothes. The bed desperately needed a new bedsheet. The yellow pillow begged for a new cover.

‘Vimal! Wait wait wait!’

‘What happened??’

‘Don’t you see how yellow it is? Let me change it.’

‘Not now Sudha..do it tomo..’

Even before he could complete, she would have snatched the pillow and changed the covers to shining white.
‘Now you may sleep’ she would smile with pride.

‘Goodnight Sudha..’ he chanted as he slept off.

The phone rang. He woke up in frustration. This time he knew there was no escape. He threw his hand on the bedside table and wore his spectacles.



‘Hello Vimal’

Vimal was taken aback. He lost hold of all the words. Of language. Of senses.

‘Sudha.?’ he questioned.

‘Yes..how are you?’

‘Sudha?? Who is this???’

‘It is Sudha..calm down Vimal..’

It was her. He knew it. It was Sudha. Only her words had the power to silent his storm.

‘Am I dreaming??’

‘Maybe’ she smiled innocently.

‘How are you Sudha..?’

The leap of formality had never escaped. Even love couldn’t kill it.

‘I am fine Vimal’

‘I am happy to hear that..I missed you tonight..’

‘Did you?’

‘Yes..Mr Dubey’s son you remember?’

‘Oh yes! That sweet boy!’

‘He isn’t so sweet anymore. He has grown enormously fat and eats like a bear!’

‘Vimal! You mustn’t say that!’ she chuckled.

He was afraid the dream might come to an end. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity.

‘Sudha..I miss you..I miss your face..I miss your presence..’

‘I miss you too Vimal..I am always around you..’

‘No one cooks baingan ka bharta like you used to..’

‘I will cook it for you tomorrow’ she assured him.

‘How is Niketan?’ she asked.

‘Niketan is fine and so is Aditi..they returned to America last month itself’

‘Are they happy?’

‘Very much’

She breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I have to leave Vimal..will see you tomorrow’

‘Sudha! Sudha!!! Sudha???’

‘Yes I am here!’

‘Oh.. I wanted to say.. That.. I wanted to say.. Thankyou Sudha..’

He heard her smile. The very same lovely smile when they had gone out for their first dinner.

‘I have been ringing the bell for the past half an hour Madam Ji!! I am worried ! He usually opens the door in the first bell itself!! The milk! the newspaper..everything is kept outside!!’  said Foola frantically.

The neighbours ran to break his door.

Stress Abuse!


Attention everyone!

Here is a light exercise for your workaholic hands. Raise your right hand if you think that you’re a little ‘stressed out’ these days. Raise your left hand if you think you develop the ‘stressed-out-these-days’ mania quite often. Now with your stretched arms/arm place one tight slap on the respective cheek. And that is, in pure physical form, what we engineers identify as STRESS.

Please don’t panic as I am not intending to give a lecture on stress handling (Google baba will find you plenty on that). I am trying to dig into a rather esoteric matter. Stress, according to me, is more misused than misunderstood. And my complaint here is not with the ones who are genuinely in pain but with the ones who are in a mental state of advertising their problems and causing pain in others’ neck. You’ve got to take me seriously when I say an idiot A’s breakup tales and B’s office miseries on a weekend cocktail party are lethal. Not because they sound drastic but because they are easily relatable. And I can bet half my pocket money on the claim that these perverts only intend to ruin your evening. Tell them to shut-up right away. Or, better let your grilling hand enlighten them on what STRESS does to one’s cheeks! 😉

The latest trend is to pester others with your issues. Worry, I tell you, is contagious. I have this friend who has a hobby of finding all kinds of psycho-social disorders in him. (Yes!) His enthusiasm is worth a glance when he calls out the perfect medical terms corresponding to his versatile mental states and expects me to sympathize. (Duh!) At times, with despondency and helplessness, he would ask me to help him find what his real problem was. And before I give the stressed soul my piece he would blurt out “schizophrenia!”. His quirk amuses me, but more than that I am amused with the sincerity on his face. “Schizophrenia personality disorder!”- he would utter with two grim nods. While I’d be engaged in gathering the meaning, he would sing his break-up ballad expecting me to appreciate his sangfroid in the tempest he is going through. Had I been an easy target, he would have catapulted me to another stress zone. If he wants to say he is a perfectionist, he would say “I have OCD”. (God help him!) His perfect knowledge of his disorders intimidates me at times. But now that I am used to his idiosyncrasies, I have learnt why the noble Thomas Gray was right when he said ‘Ignorance is bliss’.

This was one peculiar case. And I am sure this beautiful world is full of idiots who wouldn’t miss a chance to categorize themselves as MANIACS. Point to take home is that what makes youths mad is their inclination towards madness. Forgive the goons, but aren’t we responsible for our susceptibility? We dig our own graves and lie down in them to succumb to stress which, unfortunately, is just a state of mind. If you don’t believe me, consider what Descartes said: ‘I think, therefore I am’.  Exactly my point- you think you are in a problem, therefore you ARE in a problem.

Now think over. Why is it that every single person, each added responsibility, every passing day is able to make us more insecure? Why are we so fallible to problems that we know we can solve, or, for that matter, we can never solve? Maybe our vulnerability is making us more vulnerable. Maybe thinking over an issue converts into over thinking earlier than we can realize. Maybe it is a specter of our imagination and nothing else!

So for all the soi-disant stressed out folks here is a thought provocation. The reason why worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work. If you own those brains that can make a trifling issue a behemoth, then you can certainly find a legitimate solution to it. Invest time in calming your senses instead of googling the theories that take you to sickness. The simplest acceptance theory is that everybody experiences their share of hell. Clicking and tweeting away your problems on gadgets or selling tragedies for sympathies only establishes you as a moron. So before you think Virat Kohli is a stud and your life is a dud, think of him as an eighteen year old boy who lost his father on the eve of his match and yet managed to score 90 the next day and saved his team a follow-on in a crucial Ranji match. His aggression on field might make people say he is a reckless boy who just got lucky, but few would know how his love and dedication for cricket grew into passion overnight.

One needs to channelize one’s pains and trauma (not on Twitter or Facebook, poor fella! ). Nurture your hobbies. Yes, I might sound preachy now but sit in silence for ten minutes every day. It helps. They say finding your true state of mind is like finding god.

Okay! We know what all they keep saying. Earnest advice of millions may be found on internet. Now that you have read some from me you owe me a nice comment. 😉

P.S –

  1. I am neither a counselor nor an admonisher. Yet I feel I can prevent many pissants from socializing their woes and help make the world a better place. 🙂
  2. Spread the new STRESS definition at your own risk. Chances are that you might end up getting two on your face. It is easier said than done!
  3. Special thanks to my anonymous friend who inspired me to write something after ages. Why I quitted writing?- “Heck! I was under the B.Tech stress!” 😛


From the corner of my eyes
I stare at the dark clouds
Radiating despair
Radiating uncertainty
Silent at once, deafening the other
Unceasingly, casting a shadow all around
But their reign is not eternal
Soon they will have to retreat
To let their tyranny, be quelled
By the tranquillity
Of those approaching clear skies
Ephemeral darkness
Will pave the way for incessant light
Afloat, in the serene skies
Will be expectations and aspirations
Of desires of better times
And dreams of better lives

Man & Animal


I felt a thirst, an everlasting thirst within me. I checked my lips; they did not have the dryness of a thirsty man. The thirst within me could not be quenched with water, for it was stirred, not by the instinct of survival but by the desire of losing control and of letting go. This need overtook me because I slowed down the car and parked it into an empty space to my right. I closed my eyes, for facing the reality with open eyes was not something I could do. I took out a circular chip from my pocket, it was supposed to help me garner the strength to stop. I desperately scratched it, trying to erase one of the words embedded on it. But the very fact of embedding something is so that it cannot be removed. So how can I fight something that has been deeply rooted within me? I unlocked the door and got out of the car in a hurry. One drink wouldn’t really hurt. I opened the door of the bar across the street and went inside. The man across the bar nodded to my presence and immediately started filling a glass. I sat down on a table; I quite enjoyed my own company. The glass arrived and as I picked it up with my left hand, the watch on my wrist caught my attention. It read 01:03:37 PM. I had to be at the hospital by 1:30, so I had to leave in 10 minutes. I remembered that – 10 minutes, one drink and then I leave. I raised the glass to my lips, but as the crystal touched my teeth, I stopped. I still hadn’t done it; I still had the option to choose. Today I was either going back to the same 10 years of my life or I was finally going to embrace the last 5 months that I’ve lived with a sober view. As I rocked the glass between my fingers, my mind oscillated between the choices every man has to make. To accept who you are or to acknowledge who you are supposed to be. I did not know what the universal right to this question is, but I knew the socially acceptable choice is the latter. People around us want us to conform to a set of ethics and morals, because the majority fits in within this structure. But the few outcasts like me do not get a chance to embrace the spirit within them. We are left to be functioned as robots, following algorithms and pre-written instructions. I raised the glass and the first few drops of alcohol flowed through my tongue. I could feel it, as each and every drop slowly sizzled through me, and just as my insides began to go numb, my brain started to feel and express more than it ever has. My glass was replaced with another, and then another, and then another. The spirit inside me, which had been weighed down by responsibilities forced upon it, welcomed the spirit that I gulped down my throat. It was the meeting of two spirits, animal and liquid, and it had been long time coming. But as the alcohol burned the chains that bound me, the animal within me started to take shape. For with every drop of alcohol I drank, it demanded two more. And so I drank, and then I drank more. The horse and the rider, the passenger and the driver, the man and the animal had finally been re-united. Together, they drowned in moments of nostalgia. The man across the table stared at me, and his eyes carried a gleam of appreciation towards me. I am where I should be, where I am accepted, respected, maybe even valued. I was home, I was among fellow alcoholics. The man continued to stare at me and then used his fingers to shape out a cell phone. I was sure he was not asking for my number, so I realized what he was pointing to- My cell phone was ringing, it had been ringing for quite some time now. I looked at the number flashing on the screen, it was the hospital. I looked at the time: 2:31:41 PM. I had missed my wife’s first pregnancy, I had missed the birth of my first child, and I had basically missed another chance of being the man people wanted me to be. But I did not care; I felt no guilt within me. Yes when she told me she was pregnant I was emotionally motivated to quit the one thing that kept me going. But she never accepted me for the man I was; however damaged, broken or drunk I was, I had always loved her. But like others who wanted to barricade me within these walls of rules and regulations, she was no different. I took out the chip from my pocket and started rubbing it in between my fingers. It was supposed to show me the right way in times of distress. The chip had embedded within it, in bold letters, the words ‘Alcoholic Anonymous’. I had to choose which letter I scraped of it, because only one of the two men survives today. I tapped on the desk and the bartender bought me another drink. My cell phone rang again; I cut the call and switched it off. Today, I choose to be the man I want to be, by accepting the animal I am. Today I break free of all emotional and moral expectations, for an animal is best left in the wild. Yes, I’m not going back to my wife. Yes, I don’t want to see the face of my own child. Yes, I don’t care what you think of me. Yes I’m an alcoholic.

Let Go!

Writing – the simple act of putting your thoughts down in words. Seems easy? Well, it’s not. If you think I’m talking about the everyday writing that almost all of us engage in – taking notes, copy pasting for projects, writing tests and the like – then I respect your ability to think simple in this exceptionally complicated world. But no, I’m talking about the kind of writing that forces you to think, that forces you to create, that forces you to express. Nope, not easy.

And then, there’s that crazy moment when you finally get inspired by all those ‘I CAN DO IT’ motivational videos you’ve been watching on Youtube since 9th grade and suddenly feel the urge to share your work with the rest of the world. This is where you enter a new level in the game and things get tougher as you decide to give people an insight into the most personal of your thoughts and notions; thoughts that were, until now, tucked away in the safe haven of your bizarre mind (and your personal diary, which your mother probably checks everyday for updated information). Oh boy, not happening.

It is scary. Yet, if you ask me, writing was the most comfortable activity for me back in school. I remember my 6th grade English teacher telling me, “It’s okay if you don’t understand a word of science, you can always take up writing which is a science in itself.” I took her golden words too seriously and completely gave up on science. But disappointing the poor lady further, I never tried enhancing my writing skills either and merely ended up scribbling a few random lines in my diary every day.  What I did realize, however, was how liberated and unrestrained those little frivolous moments of random scribbling made me feel. I loved the feeling and greedy as all humans are, I wanted more out of it. So a lot many monotonous years later, when a friend suggested I write for a blog, I thought to myself, this is it. This was my chance to move beyond the pale yellow pages of my diary and maybe find that ‘more’ I was looking for. Needless to say, I was hugely excited.

2 hours later, however, I had decided against it and had successfully entered a stage of ‘post-excitement depression’ (don’t think I’m weird, we are a whole community of people who suffer from this condition from time to time), except that the thing I was excited about never transpired and I directly landed in the stage of depression (okay, now you can call me weird).  So how did I finally end up posting on this blog?

I had started making a long list of possible things I could write about when it suddenly dawned on me that maybe I’m not ready for this yet. I am the happiest when I write, yet I had always kept it personal. A little introspection, amidst the constant inflow of depressing thoughts, and I realized that what I was actually not ready for was not writing on a larger platform like this or any of the other issues I mentioned above, but for the reactions, feedback, views and comments that would come after. Yes, I wasn’t ready to be judged on my writing by people I didn’t even know.

But the very same thought highlights the triviality of the entire issue. Does it really matter if people you don’t even know exist judge you for something you love doing? For all you know, you’re probably going to hear from them just once in your life and if they really hate what you do, they wouldn’t even bother noticing it in future. Problem solved!

There’s no better way of looking at this. We live in a society where most people have assumed for themselves the right to judge whether a particular individual’s action is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, ‘good’ or ‘bad’, ‘interesting’ or ‘worthless’ and so on. And what’s unfortunate is that most people subscribe to this judgement, seeing it as a measure determining their success or failure. I understand that our country’s judiciary is largely corrupt and you feel for your countrymen (and women), but seriously, taking up such a huge responsibility of passing verdicts on every individual’s behaviour around you just to serve your country well is going a little too overboard, don’t you think? But then again, people tell me we live in a democracy which (on paper) gives every citizen the right to express their views about every possible thing on Earth. Well okay then, let’s take these views exactly as what they are: just views, nothing else. Let’s not give these views the power to bow us down and shape our course of action, our worth and our idea about who we are. Let’s learn how not to care.

Just imagine how easy life would be if the society’s opinion ceases to matter to people. A girl could dress as skimpily and as ‘provocatively’ as she wishes to, not caring about who she ends up provoking because that’s really not her problem, as long as it makes her feel confident about herself and survive Delhi summers. She could sleep with a 100 different men if she wants to, or one, without giving two hoots about being called a slut or a bore. A man with a perfectly straight sexual orientation could freely talk about and shop for feminine products he likes, unaffected by people calling him gay. Same-sex couples could go on romantic dates too, hold hands, kiss and sing for each other, while only feeling sorry for the Uncleji and Auntyji sitting at the next table and staring, clearly missing out on good food. And writing enthusiasts could write whatever and howsoever they wish to, without worrying about not having used enough fancy words and the hate mails they might receive.

This is exactly what I managed to do. I moved from being a victim of the ‘Fear of Judgement’ to becoming someone who has learnt to just let go and not care. I am here because I have finally come to accept the fact that people will always judge and perceive others from a self-constructed prism of good or bad, simply because they can. They may laugh at, love or hate what I write. But the best I can do is gladly accept this wide range of emotions coming my way and continue believing in myself. So here’s a shoutout to all those who are suppressing the urge to kick off something that gives them pure heavenly happiness, simply because they’re afraid they might not be accepted by those who’re already too good at it or those who aren’t brave enough to initiate it. Honestly speaking, as long as you’re not a candidate contesting elections, public opinion should really not bother you. Hell, even the candidates don’t care anymore!

So go ahead, don that two-piece bikini set you’ve been hiding in your closet since last summer, take up that low paying job you would love to do and even vote for Congress if you wish to! Life is too short to think about what the world thinks, because your only source of acceptance should be YOU. So breathe, let go and just do it!

Happy reading! Happy judging!

Let Your Senses Act

So I thought the sequel to my previous post on my dear “doublethink” was never coming. But what could be a better time than to put it up right before the polls day. This nation, your nation, mine too; needs us. No matter how clichéd it may sound but it is an undeniable truth.

Tomorrow you would want to laze around and call your friends up to help you finish the stock of beers you have, wake up late or just not vote because it is difficult for you to decide whom to vote for. I can understand that, I am no different.

But hey, your casting the vote is the first step towards a better India. You sure do not want to entire politics, but atleast cast that damn vote so you don’t blame yourself.

But apart from that there are a few things you can do in order to revive this nation.

1. File RTIs. Many people think that RTIs are of no use, but it really is a way to get that extra information about the laws made and question the dilly-dally implementation of these laws. You can file RTI for a whole lot of things. Ever thought about filing an RTI about how much fuel goes into running these government vehicles?
We all must have heard some distant relative say, government jobs are the best. We get so many advantages. They brag about their brother’s daughter or son being an IAS, IPS officer. Excuse me if I am wrong, very few stick to their business and most of them are corrupt. It is shameful that when people talk about government jobs which are about being public servants or working for proper administration (or may be it never was) it is instead about the extra benefits, travel incentives, extra holidays, compensatory holidays and medical benefits.
A normal Indian, service class person pays taxes every year without fail, the taxes which have been increasing with every financial budget since almost six years and has even taken place in my online shopping, are spent to provide benefits to these public servants so they can render their duties with full dedication. In return, what does a common man get, being forced to bribe the babu in government offices so he does his work in time. I am sorry to say, but here I don’t see that bribe being a failure on part of the common man, but a failure of the Indian Administrative System… or say any Indian System altogether, now blame me for generalizing and talking about the typical Indian system, I do not care. It is a fact no one can change. So think about these little issues, knock the authorities down with multiple RTIs to know more. You can stalk that girl and get her number from everywhere, think about stalking the government and you might just get to know things you could have never even imagined.
You could however also get to know about the good things which have been done, perhaps some increase in the literacy rate in an area due to proper implementation of the education reform, spread that and let people know who, which party indulges for real in substantive reforms and public welfare.

2. Form communities and file cases. Very recently the Supreme Court has dismissed a PIL with asked for post poll alliances being banned. It said that the courts couldn’t restrict parties to not form alliances with some other parties to form a government. I personally thought that the PIL made sense.
If people who share the same views regarding the development of the nation, they must set platform and brainstorm about the possible glitches in the system and find out possible direction to the correction.
Think about it, in this ‘secular’ nation, we form communities for our religion and propagate it because our constitution gives us the leverage to do so, but have we ever thought about forming groups which help increase development. The day we liberate ourselves of these minor differences, then can we think about greater meaning of words like developments.
So form communities, irrespective of whatever differences you can possibly think- divide you and the other person, for when you come together for real as a power, then only will these politicians take us seriously.
Think about it, this nation has over a thousand registered political parties, all approved by the Election Commission. It is rather funny that this commission, which can give parties the license to contest election cannot dismantle parties. So a party can get 10% votes once and manage staying in politics, for FOREVER. Ever thought, how such a big pool be checked?

3. Now that you have found out issues in the system and made communities of the intellectuals, the nation lovers and the informed, you need to file PILs. Public Interest Litigations could be a boon to the Indian systems. It is the only way I know, that a citizen of this nation can raise his voice for the correction of the ill practices which have slowly crept in and now exist and defining the system for all the bad reasons.

I apologize if I sound all preachy. I know all of us are too busy with our lives, but what is the use of living a life, which is not worth living. We slog ourselves hard from when in school to get good grades, to get the stream we wish for, to study in the top most college, till we retire all to have a good retired life. How will you feel if someone told you that you wasted it for being a narcissist?

Rise above and let your senses act.
Happy reading.