We're deeply religious people. Precepts of our religions govern our lives. We observe certain days. Those're our festivals. The purpose of any festival -- of any religion -- isn't merrymaking. It's a solemn reminder of struggles of our forefathers. That -- inadvertently -- shows slight gender bias -- so I'd use a gender-neutral
word: Ancestors. The effect of elapsing time on collective memory is that it gets rusted. The significance of our triumphs over evil has faded. Ordeals of our saviors have been forgotten. Crusades of our messiahs are in unread holy scriptures.
word: Ancestors. The effect of elapsing time on collective memory is that it gets rusted. The significance of our triumphs over evil has faded. Ordeals of our saviors have been forgotten. Crusades of our messiahs are in unread holy scriptures.
Our gladiatorial urges have taken the form of reality shows. Our living room with a monstrous telly is our arena. We're still bloodthirsty. We still love bloody duels.
We don't read: The Story of My Experiments with Truth -- BUT -- we love Page Three-like tabloids.
Criticism hurts us. We can't tolerate it. That's a pointer to an underlying frailty: And, that's our insecurity. What's making us frail?
Deviation from Gandhian and Nehruvian ideologies? What's put us on a moral collision course? Is it our collective destiny? Or -- is it our collective karma?
Ravana lives on -- in a new avatar -- and, this time -- purely in the form of a human -- and, this time -- he isn't multiheaded -- yet evil incarnate.
Festival is a day to renew our vows of uprightness. Festival is a day of reaffirmations: To reaffirm our commitment to family, community and country. Festival is a day to fulfill our promises. And, it's a day to promise ourselves to be steadfast. It's a day to revive our zealousness for secularity. An oath to protect our women.
Mayday, Mayday, Mayday: We're going into a nosedive! Pull the yoke--my friend!
We don't read: The Story of My Experiments with Truth -- BUT -- we love Page Three-like tabloids.
Criticism hurts us. We can't tolerate it. That's a pointer to an underlying frailty: And, that's our insecurity. What's making us frail?
Deviation from Gandhian and Nehruvian ideologies? What's put us on a moral collision course? Is it our collective destiny? Or -- is it our collective karma?
Ravana lives on -- in a new avatar -- and, this time -- purely in the form of a human -- and, this time -- he isn't multiheaded -- yet evil incarnate.
Festival is a day to renew our vows of uprightness. Festival is a day of reaffirmations: To reaffirm our commitment to family, community and country. Festival is a day to fulfill our promises. And, it's a day to promise ourselves to be steadfast. It's a day to revive our zealousness for secularity. An oath to protect our women.
Mayday, Mayday, Mayday: We're going into a nosedive! Pull the yoke--my friend!
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