The Great Indian Lokpal Stir

Let me express my profound unease at the crescendo of euphoria surrounding the ‘Anna Hazare + Jan Lokpal Bill’ phenomenon as it has unfolded in New Delhi and across several hysterical TV stations over the last few days.

This time around, I have to say that the print media has acted (upto now) with a degree of restraint that I think is commendable. Partly, this has to do with the different natures of the two media. If you have to write even five hundred words about the Jan Lokpal bill, you run out of platitudes against corruption in the first sentence (and who can speak ‘for’ corruption anyway?) and after that you have to begin thinking about what the bill actually says, and the moment you do that, you cannot but help consider the actual provisions and their implications. On television on the other hand, you never have to speak for more than a sound-byte, (and the anchor can just keep repeating himself or herself, because that is the anchor’s job) and the accumulation of pious vox-pop sound bytes ‘against corruption’ leads to a tsunami of ‘sentiment’ that brooks no dissent.

The outcome of the  ‘Anna Hazare’ phenomenon allows the ruling  Congress to appear gracious (by bending to Anna Hazare’s will) and the BJP to appear pious (by cozying up to the Anna Hazare initiative) and a full spectrum of NGO and  ‘civil society’ worthies to appear, as always, even holier than they already are.
Most importantly, it enables the current ruling elite to have just stage managed its own triumph, by crafting a ‘sensitive’ response to a television media conjured popular upsurge. Meanwhile, the electronic media, by and large, have played their part by offering us the masquerade of a ‘revolution’ that ends up making the state even more powerful than it was before this so called ‘revolution’ began.
Anna Hazare may finally go down in history as the man who -  perhaps against his own instincts and interests – (I am not disputing his moral uprightness here) -  sanctified the entire spectrum of Indian politics by offering it the cosmetic cloak of the provisions of the draft Jan Lokpal Bill. The current UPA regime, like the NDA regime before it, has perfected the art of being the designer of its own opposition. The method is brilliant and imaginative. First, preside over profound corruption, then, utilise the public discontent against corruption to create a situation where the ruling dispensation can be seen as the source of the most sympathetic and sensitive response, while doing nothing, simultaneously, to challenge the abuse of power at a structural level.

I have studied the draft Jan Lokpal Bill carefully and I find some of its features are deeply disturbing. I want to take some time to think through why this appears disturbing to me.

The  draft Jan Lokpal bill (as present on the website http://www.indiaagainstcorruption.org/) foresees a Lokpal who will become one of the most powerful institutions of state that India has ever known. It will combine in itself the powers of making law, implementing the law, and punishing those who break the law. A lokpal will be ‘deemed a police officer’ and can ‘While investigating any offence under Prevention of Corruption Act 1988, they shall be competent to investigate any offence under any other law in the same case.’

The appointment of the Lokpal will be done by a collegium consisting of several different kinds of people – Bharat Ratna awardees, Nobel prize winners of Indian origin, Magasaysay award winners, Senior Judges of Supreme and High Courts, the Chairperson of the National Human Rights Commission, the Comptroller and Auditor General of India, the Chief Election Commissioner, and members of the outgoing Lokpal board and the Chairpersons of both houses of Parliament. It may be noticed that in this entire body, only one person, the chairperson of the Lok Sabha, is a democratically elected person. No other person on this panel is accountable to the public in any way. As for ‘Nobel Prize Winners of Indian Origin’ they need not even be Indian citizens. The removal of the Lokpal from office is also not something amenable to a democratic process. Complaints will be investigated by a panel of supreme court judges.

This is middle class India’s dream of subverting the ‘messiness’ of democracy come delightfully true. So, now you have to imagine that Lata Mangeshkar (who is a Bharat Ratna), APJ Abul  Kalam (Bharat Ratna, ex-President and Nuclear Weapons Hawk) V.S. Naipaul (who is a Nobel Prize Winner of Indian Origin) and spectrum of the kinds of people who take their morning walks in Lodhi Garden – Supreme Court Judges, Election Commissioners, Comptroller & Auditor Generals, NHRC chiefs and Rajya Sabha chairmen will basically elect the person who will run what may well become the most powerful institution in India (not you not me).

This is a classic case of a privileged elite selecting how it will run its show without any restraint. It sets the precedent for the making of an unaccountable ‘council of guardians’ something like the institution of the ‘Velayat e Faqih’ (Absolute Guardianship of the Jurist)– a self-selected body of clerics – in Iran who act as a super-state body, unrestrained by any democratic norms or procedures. I do not understand what qualifies Lata Mangeshkar and V.S. Naipaul (whose deeply reactionary views are well known) to take decisions about the future of all those who live in india.

The setting up of the institution of the Lokpal (as it is envisioned in what is held out as the draft Jan Lokpal Bill)  needs to be seen, not as the deepening, but as the profound erosion of democracy.

Clearly, there is a popular rage, (and not confined to earnest middle class people alone) about the helplessness that corruption engenders around us. But we have to ask very carefully whether this bill actually addresses the structural issues that cause corruption. In setting up a super-state body, that is almost self selecting and virtually unaccountable, it may in fact laying the foundations of an even more intense concentration of power. And as should be clear to all of us by now, nothing fosters corruption as much as the concentration of unaccountable and unrestrained power and history tells us that all fascist regimes begin by sounding the tocsin of ‘cleansing’ society of corruption and evil..
I am not arguing against the provision of an institution of a Lokpal, or Ombudsman, (and some of the provisions even in this draft bill – such as the provision of protection for whistle-blowers, are indeed commendable)  but if we want to take this institution seriously, within a democratic political culture, we have to ask whether the methods of initiating and concluding the term of office of the Lokpal conforms to democratic norms or not. There are many models of selecting Ombudsmen available across the world, but I have never come across a situation where a country decides that Nobel Prize winners and those awarded with state conferred honours can be entrusted with the task selecting those entrusted with the power to punish people. I have also never come across the merging of the roles of investigator, judge and prosecutor within one office being hailed as the triumph of democratic values.
Having said this, lets also pause to consider that it’s not as if others have not been on hunger strike before – Irom Sharmila has been force fed for several years now http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irom_Chanu_Sharmila – but I do not see her intransigence being translated into a tele-visually orchestrated campaign against the Armed Forces Special Powers Act. The impunity that AFSPA breeds is nothing short of a corruption that eats deep into the culture of democracy, and yet, here, moral courage, and the refusal to eat, does not seem to work.
The current euphoria needs to be seen for what it is – a massive move towards legitimizing a strategy of simple emotional blackmail – a (conveniently reversible) method of suicide bombing in slow motion. Nothing can be more dangerous for democracy. Unrestrained debate and a fealty to accountable processes are the only means by which a democratic culture can sustain itself. The force of violence, whether it is inflicted on others, or on the self, or held out as a performance, can only act coercively. And coercion can never nourish democracy.
Finally, if, as a society, we were serious about combating the political nexus that sustains corruption – we would be thinking seriously about reforming the CVC, extending the provisions of the Right to Information Act to the areas where it can not currently operate – national security and defence; we would also think seriously about electoral reform – about proportional representation, about smaller constituencies, about strengthening local representative bodies, about the provision of uniform public funding for candidates and about the right to recall elected representatives. These are serious questions. The tragedy that we are facing today is that the legitimate public outrage against corruption is being channeled in a profoundly authoritarian direction that actually succeeds in creating a massive distraction.
In all the noise there has been a lot of talk about cynicism, and anyone who has expressed the faintest doubt has been branded as a cynic. I do not see every expression of doubt in this context as cynicism, though some may be. Instead, I see the fact that those who often cry hoarse about ‘democratic values’ seem to be turning a blind eye to the authoritarian strains within this draft ‘Jan Lokpal Bill’ as a clear indication of how powerful the politics of cynicism actually is.

I hope that eventually, once the din subsides, better sense will prevail, and we can all begin to think seriously, un-cynically about what can actually be done to combat the abuse and concentration of power in our society.

Allow me to pick and choose my revolutions. I am not celebrating at Ramlila tonight. Good night.

The Prodigal CV

Then I said to myself, "What happens to the fool will happen to me also; why then have I been so very wise?" And I said to myself that this also is vanity. For there is no enduring remembrance of the wise or of fools, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten.

-Anonymous

Sometimes you have a chance encounter with a picture of yours from a different era, and it is like being introduced to your Neanderthal twin from a different world. An emaciated look, sallow eyes, with the only thing worse than your hair-do is your sense of dressing, when wearing oversized tee shirts or tooooo-low waist jeans were in vogue. You look at yourself from the past and wonder, who is this obnoxious creature? I guess it is okay to make fun of oneself publicly. I had one such chance encounter, but not with a picture of mine from the past. Well, it was a picture sort of, but more of my academic achievements, or the lack of it. It happened one day that the TnP in-charge of my branch, Gaurav Choudhary, sent a text asking to prepare a CV and then e-mail it to him within two days. As ordered, I sat down to write, or type, my first ever written Curriculum Vitae (CV), and it was like having a glimpse of the outdated, backdated, anything but the glamorous past.

So......it was the first time I was making CV for myself. Maybe, it’s an indication that I will be out of college soon and will need to fend for myself. The dreams for a lucrative and money-spinning job have just started to take shape, and an impressive resume seems like a good idea to make initial contact with the aliens. Yeah, the feeling is something akin to that. The only trouble was, there was nothing much impressive for me to show off. Not a very rewarding summer internship, no fellowship, no real research experience. However, something had to be written, and that was what I did. Over the next few hours, I took a ride into my past and dug out everything, every single pettiest thing that I ever did and blotched it all over my resume. After continuous hard work, I was finally able to write a quasi-decent and quasi-presentable resume. All the facts about my life, which I had brought to my mind from the hinterlands of don’t-ask-me-where, were all there. For the next few hours of my life, I sat there wide eyed; looking at the wreckage from a disaster movie, my blotchy and mottled, a catawampus CV.

It started with a very confused and baffled-looking picture of mine (who gives their pictures in CVs?) with that desperate look on my face, as if begging the HR to recruit me. What was I thinking, they would take one look at my “handsome” face and let me in? Then came the information no one cared about... Address, Telephone number, Father’s name, Ancestral property’s location, Name of the first pet. (Some of these are exaggerated of course, but I will leave it to you to figure it out.) What, were they going to write me letters? The next “ahem” part was, well, “Sex: Male”. I am impressed I did not mention caste, mother tongue native language, and the name of ancestral village.

Then came the “Biographical Information”, which was fine I guess, but for the parenthesis that said, “In reverse chronological order”. Yeah, as if the order mattered, and more importantly, as if it was rocket science to figure out what order things were in. Of course, every institution I attended had to be listed with the “marks obtained”, because how can one trust the transcripts of my great university, assuming the transcripts reached them on time? Then started the actual meat of the CV thankfully, institutions attended, random projects undertaken, with the mention of everything, from holding a shovel in the lab to ramming a core-cutter into the soil last week. Even things like “had 95% attendance in class”, “recited nursery rhymes 18 years ago”, “sung a song on Teachers’ Day”, or “could eat during class without getting caught” found an apt place in the CV. Then there were awards and accolades. “Stood 7^th out of 120 innumerable students in my school”, “won awards in debates and collages” (who cares?), or “sat through boring seminars” would find a place as well. If this was not insult enough to my academic achievements (or the lack of it), there would be a separate section dedicated to extracurricular activities, because being a house captain, an indispensible member of the Cancer Aid Society, playing Santa Claus for play-groupies on Christmas, standing behind on stage holding the Tricolour on Bapu’s birth day, anchoring soporific events should also count, or giving numerous super boring paper presentations continuously. Not to mention learning gazillion words from Barron’s, or the ability to gobble 50 gol-gappas in a minute.

Whether I like it or not, this will be an indelible part of what I was. It might take years of grooming, feedback, and doing some fruitful experience to build my credentials in the field, and to evolve as a professional. To put it differently, the present me is because that was the past me (though the college in between has metamorphosised me a lot positively, but still........12 years of schooling and 3 years so far for college; do the math!!). I looked at my CV with a mixture of both love and hatred. Is this who I used to be? Desperate to get recognition even for a seminar I attended and slept through? Or being exceptionally good at “plagiary” when it came to writing a test? Was I hoping my experience with being a part of a cancer club, or being a good counter-strike player was about to get me recruited in my dream company?

Yeah, I know we all have to start somewhere, and build from there. Just that early men did not have that polish doesn’t mean they were any less successful in their environment. However, call me smug, arrogant, thankless, whatever, but it doesn’t hurt to make fun of thy own once in a while. Except that 10 years down the line, I would be reading my CV and laughing again. “Went to XYZ dam for an inspection and got the Project Engineer suspended”. (my batch-mates will understand this ;P) Who cares?

Inventorying the INVISIBLE

"We don't know one percent of one millionth about anything." - Thomas Edison

Forgive my philosophy here, but after a long time the philosopher in me is awake and wants to write something. Don,t frown if you don't get the gist or have no idea on what am I talking on, after all the thoughts are intangible or I would have given you the option to mould it as you like. But you can't, as you can't see it in the first place........it's all invisible, isn't it!!! but still I hope you'll read it full, I say you'll enjoy it....

So the question is, what is invisible? There is more of it than you think, actually. Everything, I would say, everything that matters except every thing, and except matter. We can see matter. But we can't see what's the matter. As in this cryptic sentence I found in the Guardian recently. "The marriage suffered a setback in 1965 when the husband was killed by the wife."


So we can see the stars and the planets. But we can't see what holds them apart, or what draws them together. With matter, as with people, we see only the skin of things. We can't see into the engine room. We can't see what makes people tick, at least not without difficulty. And the closer we look at anything, the more it disappears. In fact, if you look really closely at stuff, if you look at the basic substructure of matter, there isn't anything there. Electrons disappear in a kind of fuzz, and there is only energy. And you can't see energy.

So everything that matters, that's important, is invisible. One slightly silly thing that's invisible is this story, which is invisible to you. And I'm now going to make it visible to you. I heard it in one of John Lloyd's talk. It's about an M.P. called Geoffrey Dickens.

The late Geoffrey Dickens, M.P. was attending a fete in his constituency. Wherever he went, at every stall he stopped he was closely followed by a devoted smiling woman of indescribable ugliness. Try as he might, he couldn't get away from her. A few days later he received a letter from a constituent saying how much she admired him, had met him at a fete and asking for a signed photograph. After her name, written in brackets was the apt description.....horse face. "I've misjudged this women." thought Mr. Dickens. "Not only is she aware of her physical repulsiveness, she turns it to her advantage. A photo is not enough." So he went out and bought a plastic frame to put the photograph in. And on the photograph, he wrote with a flourish, "To Horse Face, with love from Geoffrey Dickens, M.P." After it had been sent off his secretary said to him, "Did you get that letter from the woman at the fete? I wrote Horse Face on her, so you'd remember who she was."

I bet he thought he wished he was invisible, don't you?

So, one of the interesting things about invisibility is that things that we can't see we also can't understand. Gravity is one thing that we can't see, and which we don't understand. It's the least understood of all the four fundamental forces, and the weakest. And nobody really knows what it is or why it's there. For what it's worth, Sir Issac Newton, the greatest scientist who ever lived, he thought Jesus came to earth specifically to operate the levers of gravity. That's what he thought he was there for. So, bright guy, could be wrong on that one, I don't know.

Consciousness. I see all your faces. I have no idea what any of you are thinking. Isn't that amazing? Isn't that incredible that we can't read each other's minds. But we can touch each other, taste each other perhaps, if we get close enough. But we can't read each other's minds. I find that quite astonishing.

The laws of physics: invisible, eternal, omnipresent, all powerful. Remind you of anyone? Interesting. I'm, as you can guess, not a materialist, I'm an immaterialist. And I've found a very useful new word, ignostic. Okay? I'm an ignostic. I refuse to be drawn on the question of whether God exists, until somebody properly defines the terms!!!

The stars by day. I always think that's fascinating. The universe disappears. The more light there is, the less you can see.

Time, nobody can see time. I don't know if you know this. Modern physics, there is a big movement in modern physics to decide that time doesn't really exist. Because it's to inconvenient for the figures. It's much easier if it's not really there. You can't see the future, obviously. And you can't see the past, except in your memory.

One of the interesting things about the past is you particularly can't see, my younger sister asked me this the other day, he said, "Brother, can you remember what I was like when I was two?" And I said "Yes." And she said, "Why can't I?".  Isn't that extraordinary? You can not remember what happened to you earlier than the age of two or three. Which is great news for psychoanalysts. Because otherwise they'd be out of a job. Because that's where all the stuff happens........ that makes you who you are.

Another thing you can't see is the grid, on which we hang. This is fascinating. You probably know, some of you, that cells are continually renewed. You can see it in skin and this kind of stuff. Skin flakes off, hairs grow, nails, that kind of stuff. But every cell in your body is replaced at some point. Tastebuds, every 10 days or so. Livers and internal organs sort of take a bit longer. A spine takes several years. But at the end of seven years, not one cell in your body remains from what was there seven years ago. The question is, who, then, are we? What are we? What is this thing that we hang on, that is actually us?

There is so many things that -- Light. You can't see light. When it's dark, in a vacuum, if a person shines a beam of light straight across your eyes, you won't see it. Slightly technical, some physicists will disagree with this. But it's odd that you can't see the beam of light, you can only see what it hits. I find that extraordinary, not to be able to see light, not to be able to see darkness.

Electricity, you can't see that. Don't let anyone tell you they understand electricity. They don't. Nobody knows what it is. You probably think the electrons in an electric wire move instantaneously down a wire, don't you, at the speed of light when you turn the light on. They don't. Electrons bumble down the wire, about the speed of spreading honey, they say. Galaxies, 100 billion of them, estimated in the universe. 100 billion. How many can we see? Five. Five, out of the 100 billion galaxies, with the naked eye. And one of them is quite difficult to see unless you've got very good eyesight.

And I've come to the conclusion because you've asked this other question, "What's another thing you can't see?" The point, most of us. What's the point? You can't see a point. It's, by definition, dimensionless, like an electron, oddly enough.

But, the point, what I've got it down to is there are only two questions really worth asking. "Why are we here?" and "What should we do about it while we are? And to help you, I've got two things to leave you with, from two great philosophers, perhaps two of the greatest philosopher thinkers of the 20th Century. One a mathematician and an engineer, and the other a poet.

The first is Ludvig Vitgenštajn who said, "I don't know why we are here. But I'm pretty sure it's not in order to enjoy ourselves."

And secondly and lastly, W.H. Auden, who said, "We are here on earth to help others. What the others are here for, I've no idea."

CKD

“I proud to be a CKD” – XYZ (Name classified with the author)

“A CKD alone, who hast a heart of verity and a chaste soul, shalt have the valour for superfluous chivalry” – ABC (Name, again, classified with the author)

Since the commencement of the rat race of men, we have called each other by various names reflecting their character class as a whole like nerds, geeks, psychopath etc etc. These names are myriad and differ from region to region, environment to environment and specific characters found now and again. If you would ever come to my college Harcourt Butler Technological Institute, Kanpur, you would meet a special class of people.....CKDs (I would not expand this word since it could be disturbing). Now you would ask me what, who, how, why are they?? If you are a part of my institute you would be well intimate with the whole paraphernalia and lineament of a CKD. But it’s not like only my institute had had the honour to house these people, for countless years, the CKDs were spread around the globe as an unnamed class, (it’s just that the word ‘CKD’ was first minted in my institute).

So the question arises as to where did the CKD originate, both as a word an individual and, possibly, a species? What were the original societal perceptions of the CKD? How have these changed over the years? Avoiding the other clichés let’s enter the world of the CKD and discover this fascinating and light hearted guide of the origin, behaviour and evolution of the species. (Darwin, eat your heart out!!!)

BIOLOGICAL NAME: Homo Clitofanaticus

CHARCHTERISTICS:

A CKD is exclusively a Boy.

No Girl can ever be a CKD(legally...at least)

Typical to a CKD is his obliviousness to other boys when he is with a girl (CLASS A). 

Some hardcore CKDs surpass even this critical level of oblivion and they may be physically with a boy but never mentally (CLASS B). {{ Extensive evolution has conceived a CLASS C type CKD who might never talk to a boy in his lifetime }}

A CKD, though, is often seen striving for a feminine companion but no such result has ever been achieved. Yes, there have been 5-6 exceptions (but if 50% elements of the periodic table can be exceptions then presumably this a safe level for a theory).

Girls have often been seen as using them as a safe, convenient and long-lasting talking machine, photocopy machine, means of transport, carry bag, Personal Assistant and superficially a brother (nothing more, nothing *maybe* less).

In general, they are normally weak in ‘interaction’ skill, except with the girls.

The world has seen many CKDs through time and history. Some notable examples are:

1.)    Giacomo Casanova (pt 9 on the CKD INTENSITY SCALE, the first widely accepted CKD)

2.)    Charlie Chaplin (pt 4)

3.)    Isaac Newton (pt 3)

4.)    Albert Einstein (pt 7)

Some living legends include

1.)    Salman Rushdie (pt 6)

2.)    Shahrukh Khan (pt 5.3) [credited as the father of CKDtivity in India]

3.)    Hugh Hefner (pt 8) [father of CKDtivity in the world]

Owing to their ‘Brobdingnagian’ number and their subtly different genome from the humans, WHO, in the year 2008, decided to name them taxonomically as Homo Clitofanaticus.

Social History:

They were officially identified around 2000 A.D. circa when the DUDE culture was in the BETA version and was being christened. The DUDEs, large in number took the CKDs in disdain and made comprehensive efforts to socially exclude them. Afraid, some CKDs succumbed to DUDE-ism but with the emerging culture of Boyfriend-Girlfriend-ism, came a back effect on DUDE-ism (though it could not damage it much owing to the robust leadership of DUDE-ism). Since then the CKDs have increasingly become aware of their importance. CKD pride was born. (But the girls seem to be using them as a shield from the irresistible DUDEs so CKD-pride can been dubbed as CKD-PSEUDO-PRIDE).

It would be remiss not to mention Miane pyar kiya, Mohabbatein, Darr etc. pivotal as they are to CKDism. A majority of filmography of the 90s need be seen as it actually gave a majority of CKDs the “balls” to reveal their identity and pruned their behaviour as we see them today. I suggest you see them ‘cuz without the proper knowledge a CKD can never be understood and appreciated.

Of course, all this means that there are now huge amounts of people who pretend to be a CKD. This can be seen in the rise of CKDism as a whole. However, a word of warning for the pseudo-CKD, the real CKD can sniff you out as an imposter immediately!!  ‘coz it’s not easy to hang and swarm around girls all the time!!!  If you borrow the image, concept and culture of the CKD so you can stand out as an individual, remember that this is a contradiction in terms to the ‘CKD de Verity’. As such you will be shunned on discovery!

So, the CKD has come a long way in the thousands of years since the trait made its first appearance. What the next upcoming years holds is anyone’s guess??? But it promises to be more than interesting. Where the CKD herd goes next may well determine the future progress of humanity. Only time – and the type of evolution – will tell.

P.S.- Due to the unwillingness of the CKDs to interact with the other people of the surrounding world not much is known and the CKD community are the ‘Dark Continent’ for all evolutionists, biologists and behaviourists.

        I  

Face(Flaunt)book

2004. Facebook (as we see it today) was born, with the intent of letting people be in contact with the important people in their life. 

"Facebook helps you connect and share with the people in your life"... so is written on its home page.

It's a really vivid world inside. The moment I open my FB homepage, several notifications are already flashing on the top blue ribbon. Sometimes I even come across a couple of friend requests from some long forgotten friend. Shrouded by oblivion, I exert my grey cells to see if they could come up with an interpretable result. If they do....Confirm tab is pressed, else...... who cares!! Confirm it anyway.....after all; the whole affair culminates into a concert of acquiring maximum number of friends.

Mr. Zuckerberg would have turned into an “accidental”, youngest billionaire with this “Facebook” mania but I see rubble of several careers and would-have-been billionaires below it, like the children who do nothing all day long but sit before a computer with the Facebook page open, in some isolated corners of their homes. The only noise that one would hear coming from them would be the keys being tapped. They can sit all day long on that screen without turning their neck or blinking.....(I wonder if they even breath). The membership to Facebook is open to you if you 13 years or above. I don’t understand why a 13 year old child needs Facebook?? To connect with his kindergarten friend where he used to go?? What would be his status?? (“I’m a Complan boy!!” I suppose...or “I reached 4 feet today, my mom is Proud” and his buddy would comment “HEHE, m already 4’6” :P”).

Anyways.....the whole idea is that one would be happier if he/she connects to more and more people. Oh yes! People do seem a lot happy in their photographs and profile statuses but they are sheer skewed misinterpretations of their actual lives, showcasing it in the best possible way. The world of FB is surreal and far removed from reality.

Every now and then you would see one of your friends’ pic, drinking beer and surrounded by chicks and would make you envy him. If you are one of the “desperates” you would be fuming within seconds to see some friend of yours’ Relationship Status suddenly switched to “engaged”. Some of my friends have 500+ friends, I don’t think I could remember so many people. From my own friend list’s 269 friends, I chat with hardly 50 of ‘em. One of my friends has put me under heavy psychological pressure by developing six packs, while I am still that same “walking skeletal meskwork with a 5mm dermal cover”. Then I see one of my friends, studying at the NUS, Singapore, flashing the status “SEP at University of Calgary, Canada, should I go or not...plz help!!!”...I mean I would have gone straightaway! Why do you even need to ask?? Then I see an acquaintance getting a 19.2lac offer from GE or something; a girl surrounded by gift boxes (which might be empty) she got on her birthday or Valentine’s (which would shortly ignite a “fence” between me and my girlfriend); friends on exotic vacations; everyone laughing, giggling, getting drunk. Everyone seems so happy, content, employed, brawny, and adventurous.

You’ll label yourself “abject” with certitude.

Suddenly you realise with depressing alacrity that everyone around you is getting lucrative job offers, holidaying, bungee-jumping, spelunking, partying, constantly shopping, in a football team, gymming, getting engaged and getting prettier.

All this is surreal, people’s attempt to flaunt the best facade of their life while shoving the other down somewhere in the darkness. This is not a genuine landscape of their lives. And if it is then I think that there is something terribly wrong with my stuck life where everything I achieved was only after a struggle.