Vande Mataram - 2015

Watching TV on Independence day, listening to Vande Mataram. Its that time of year again.

That time of year when we become patriot, For reasons less known.

Unlike my blog on Vande Mataram in 2010, I think my patriotism has been on a decline. Middle age has caught up even before my age got there. In pursuit of money, success, stability and safety. I have forgotten my country.

I forgot how I used to see her,
How I used to love seeing her unclad,

To see her carry on with fresh wounds, the pain of reality,
To see her celebrate success, child of hard-work.

To see her in the million gods,
Praying to all and her in one,
Creator, Sustain-er, Destroyer and Consumer,
For I was born, brought up on her lap, and going back to her. 

To see her life in each and every unknown faces passing by...

But now I travel in AC car with windows rolled up and music played loud,
Ego outgrowing compassion,
Jealousy overtaking kindness,
Adultery consuming innocence,
I have lost my sight and hearing.
Become a cripple in my personal space.

To Liberation, Independence, Freedom,
Vande Mataram!

An ISIS recruit's guide to God - Alternate route 1

Join ISIS! Rape a few hapless, behead any whom fingers point, drink some blood and if you don't like it add some sweet oil to it and try again. Wait impatiently for the next catch. Do this over and over until you think the girls don't cry like the way they used to, murder doesn't excite anymore, blood tastes like water! It's time to move on..

Take a mercenary jeep through the arid route to Pakistan. Join a militant organization, not because of the yearn to kill again, but for the thrill of infiltrating to India in the coldest of winters, neck deep in snow through the abominable exquisite Himalayas. An adrenaline rush no snake venom can give, dangerous and thrilling, yet without the slightest desire of being hailed by human race. The only award is self satisfaction. The first probable step to a long spiritual journey, being satisfied by own nature.

Treasure this whilst losing a few fingers in pursuit. It's time to move on again. Into the valley of Buddha in Leh.

Spend a few years in a Buddhist monarchy, without a calendar. Turn the prayer wheel everytime you utter 'Om Mani Padme Hum', till you forget your past and future. Till you forget time and age. Till you forget desire and decisions. Till you forget you. And then you finally meet you. Still. A piece of earth.