THE INDIAN COMMENTATOR

IN THE GLORY OF THE "KREATIVE BLOGGER AWARD". Terry, http://terrisbloomingideas.blogspot.com/ has bestowed upon me this award in the blogger’s world for the poem “ THE PRINCE ”. The poem was published on Thursday, march 19, 2009, under the label ‘international’. This is really an inspiring event when every other person usually owes his or her indebtedness to others. Yes, that is something nice to do. I cannot forget those people who helped me, supported me end guided me. This itself is the cause of the dilemma in me, for there are very few words in use to express the gratitude, which we feel to others. My gratitude to those people is inexplicable. Therefore, let me accept this fact by myself and tell you that I really feel obliged to each one of you. I would like to include those comments, on my blog, which I received via. E-mail from my readers. From, Miss.Kristi Sebens (USA) What part of India are you from? I am curious because my Mom grew up in India and I went to India w...

Image Courtesy: Google The only campus Jay knew was the Government Polytechnic College, where he pondered for three years about his future as a writer, after his higher secondary science group disaster. His parents wanted him to be a physician. Therefore, he was forced to join the science group. Later, when he passed in almost all the science subjects in narrow margins  they wanted him to choose a path for a job. So he was thrown into the courtyards of technical education. As he joined the diploma for electronics engineering, his hopes were sky high but his dreams were shattered. Though he always liked the art, the art of poetry, the art of story telling, the art of writing; it dried in the rotten dry atmosphere of that technical institution. Every thing there was hopelessly theoretic and disturbingly practical, thought he. There happened an incident. He encountered a girl. He would say- “the most beautiful girl I ever met”. The basic instinct gave a jump and the ...

While the sickle moon takes the shape of smile, I brought my lips close, and yours- Smiling part eclipsed. I brought a veil of stories to support Your sleep, in the chilling plateau, So that you can sleep a night of peace, Little prince, I tell you this, just sleep. Who you are, that matters not for me, That you are born from a female By a male, only matters, dear. Sleep, son of peace less world, in my lap. Don’t wait for your mother to pour Milk from her adorning breasts and Father’s caresses, For they have gone, so far, from our world. Hear, prince of Palestine, You sleep; no vulture will wander near us, For we are protected by An endlessly high wall from the world, In a world of lifeless serenity, and eternal peace! Sleep dear little prince. I brought the stories, Kissed your lips, And now I request you to sleep.

Violence is the most uncivilized way of expressing our protest, I state. Actually, I wanted to write an article about terrorism, that terrorism is a crime; it has many faces, unlike what Indian politicians’---“terrorism is a whole some of vice, and has nothing to do with religion. No religious person can be a terrorist and no terrorist belongs to any religion.”---Clichés;That terrorism is linked to religions--What happened in Gujarat was Hindu terrorism, what is happening in Pakistan and Afghanistan is Islamic terrorism, what happened in centuries of Papal dominance in West was Christian terrorism; That religion itself is developed as an oppressive device of the state and power structures,That ideologies are not all free from terrorist activities—what happened in West Bengal last year, was Marxist terrorism, and now in Palestine is Capitalist terrorism,That, as in criminology each and every criminal group has its own “style” in carrying out their operations, these terrorist ‘cults’ al...

Father signed the pact. To dispatch, loads of coal. The uncouth facts smiles Like an inverted rainbow With a sinister contract! The concerns over repercussions, danced, Like filthy waves of Ganga! What would happen to the family? Home might be confiscated, He might have to become a slave. The post-pact life, how unroll? Unfamiliar with the future, The father, burnt the hearth, With the cooking pot empty! He was relieved, thinking that To impede his independence, His wife had taken “I-pills”. When asked, he said- “I am happy, with my only son who- Was killed in a bigotry place. And I do not care for the future of Me, my middle aged wife, And my ‘half naked’, Alzheimer’s patient, Grand Father.

Image Courtesy: Google Village appears in “The White Tiger” as a space for implementing the paraphernalia of power, by the power structures. Power, and rule, both as ideological and restrictive forms are acting upon the village. More prominent in it is of course the restrictive apparatus, not as police or judiciary but as the landlords and their laws. The ideological apparatus finds not as much prominence as the restrictive apparatus, as the protagonist, who being the measure for interaction between the reader and the village, questions the ideological apparatus and traditional shoulder-stoop philosophies, on the way of his existential saga. But he fails to win over the restrictive apparatus most of the times, during his times in the village and later. The protagonist, Balram Halwai, moves from his village to town, in the process of his growth. Even though, toward the end, we can see him as a holder of power, we cannot find him coming back to his village or confronting any of t...

India accused Pakistan for its direct involvement in the Mumbai terror attacks, occurred a few months back. The government of India has declared its stand in the battle against terrorism and provided all the evidences needed for proving Pakistan’s sinister interests. Not only in the Mumbai attacks, but also in the Pakistan sponsored infiltration in Jammu and Kashmir, India has proven without any doubt the direct involvement of Pakistan. Taking for granted the stand of the government of India, we can see that Pakistan’s political agenda, ever since its formation was the anti-India policy, which is nurtured by our not-so-friendly-neighbourhood, the country of China. We must not forget that they have shown their intentions quite clearly to India before. Pakistan’s politics had tried to give the anti-Indian policy, with which they exerted influence and gained support from the Islamic population of the country, an ideological persona. Now it’s the turn to, modify that ideological apparatus...

My teachers, after reading my blog, asked me, or accused me, I am not sure, that why am I so diplomatic? I beg your pardon if any of my teachers felt hurt after reading my blog. I never have any diplomacy or if I put it in this way-hypocrisy- toward you. I know that there is no need to be diplomatic with you, because you are so near to me, that it won’t take too long for you to understand me. I respect you. I care for you. But still you are right. I am diplomatic. This diplomatic stand that I took is toward my perspective about the world. I feel immense freedom in writing until the first rewriting of the script. After that I am not free. No one is free. The dangers are not far from us. They are near, very near. Especially, if you are one who is concerned about the socio- cultural environment, in which that one is living. Then definitely you are in trouble, for the danger is just a breath time away, looking for even a very singly step taken against it, to crush. Wondering in what night...

W e rent our ears to some one near to us, and that too irrespective of gender, class, religious, political, social, and subjective differences. I am talking about mobile phones. Human beings are said to be social creatures. It is this natural instinct to form societies and to stay connected with every one, that lead them to be the subservient of information technology. Man created them to be their slave. Mobile phones are exquisite designs from the field of i nformation technology. The numerous advantages that this creation of technology provides, is another reason for the obsession toward them. Even though there are physiological problems identified which are related to the frequent use of mobile phone, the obsession of the world to this piece of technology seems never to end. It intervenes not only the physiological complacency but psychological too. This psychological aspect of the results of mobile phone excess-usage is generally undermined. It is possible that our calm evenings ma...

A cross the sea and along the boarders, India is facing explicit threats from its neighbours. The conditions there in the neighbourhoods do not seem to be promising. With the military rebellion broken out in Bangladesh, the situation has become worse. The Sri Lankan squall on the LTTE has already become a burning topic, which dishevelled the not-so-quiet Tamil Nadu politics. The linguistic identity, which the subservient population of Sri Lanka tries to establish with India, is the major cause for Indian concern. This identity-claim based on the language Tamil, is a protective-ideological measure taken by the population. The Sri Lankan Tamil population is the migrants from India, centuries ago. What ever the history is, in the present context, it is impossible to accept another group of people, as s ome one Indian, out side the political boundary of India, only on the basis that they also speak one of our regional languages. We cannot even sympathise with them, on the fact that they we...

F amish, the deep-laid seed of mortality, When creeps on the road of stomach, The New Despotism stands, Beside a multi national restaurant! The deep carved eyes looked for them, With the burden in the stomach, Crawling, whirling, kicking… Questions thousand raised, To the ‘ideologists’, for answer! But- Busy those self-volunteers were, In ‘planning, implementing and evaluating’ Their new business dogmas! Pity rolled down through the metal cheeks of a humanoid Exhibited in the restaurant. Roared- He shouted; terror filled the air. Despotism stood stiffened, stark. The Humanoid stole bread pieces, thirty! He fled with the famished. Famine took the restaurant.

O n the day of the Oscar awards, India died of happiness but rose in the realization of what otherness it has been bestowed with and by what curious eyes, it has been viewed by the west. The three unparalleled individual talents kissed the Oscar statue. India dampened its eyes. The happiness was that much. It was difficult to hold the pounding heart without the chill of tears poured over it. Slum Dog Millionaire , the film, which won the best film award and Smile Pinky , the film, which won the best short film award, both are about India. ‘About India’-that phrase is to be underlined. There are question marks on whether they have portrayed India in the way as it really is. There is a western archetypal curiosity about India and its life, from the European renaissance or even before it. Columbus’s landing on America and many other geographical discoveries also are the after effects of that curiosity. It is that curiosity that we can identify in the Oscar achievements of these Indian fil...

Introduction. T here is no one that can be called consumer in the truest sense. ‘Consumer’ is the result of the process of marketing. The identity of the consumer is an ambivalent one, because the consumer is the holder of money or the possession, which when he transfers to the market, it becomes the ‘investment’ for the market and a facility to satisfy his needs. The need of the persons provides the space for the establishment of the market. The market labels the individual as a consumer. These semantic identities act as an interlinked chain and are transferred through the market. Not only linguistic labeling, but many other discourses also can be seen transmitted through market, especially after the globalization. They are: 1.Adulteration The action of adulterating, being mixed with extraneous material, illicit substitution of one substance for another is known as adulteration. It becomes more embarrassingly conspicuous in the third world post-colonial countries. Not only the ...

" Who is a writer?” - Some one asked. “The one who knows what to write?” – I reflected. Then the other person said; “No, the one who knows that who is not a writer, is a writer. For he then learns, what to write; and how!” What ever may be the criteria to define a writer, each one of us has definitely tried writing at least once in our life. Writing, as Paulo Coelho says, is the expression of one's own soul. Sometimes it might be the intuitions of an author that is manifested through his or her writings. But when a reader approaches a written or printed piece of writing, the probable intuition with which the writer had given the expressions, would become-- a fact, a truth, a prophesy, and, a living and pulsating piece of life. I am hinting on that moment when the reader enters into the complex network of symbols and associations on the writer’s behalf and becomes astonished and shocked on seeing those inexplicable scenes of imagination and reality intervened. I am hinting on ...