Being Cynical�

All seems to be passing more hot air from all their available orifices than the Hot air balloon at Jawahar Lal Nehru stadium can possibly contain. Most of us in India have some sense of relief – Sukar hai izzat puri tarah nilam nehin hui. Now we mean business and want all those responsible for the shame brought in, to be in Krishna Janm sthan – yes the jail. But I am not here to write about what our good for nothing and corrupt agencies like Vigilance, ED or CBI would find out and how far the crooks be chased to bring them to task. For a moment lets take a pause and admire how magnificent was the closing ceremony. How beautifully we staged our culture through folk dances of India. We all knew how spectacular it would be if we can club all our culture and heritage and showcase it to the world, but little did we know that the Australians would be generous enough and add their culture to the spectacle.

We should be thankful to the Aussies to showcase their culture and upbringing in the form of destructing the infrastructure of the very village they stayed as being sportsmen and ambassador of their country. Ripping apart electrical fittings, destroying sanitary fittings and if that’s not enough – Washing Machines flying out of their 8^th floor balcony is epitome of uncultured and naked display of the quality of upbringing, to say the least. If the washing machine would have landed on Kalmadi’sBhanot’s head, it still would have been fine and we would have accepted it as justice of God and a great service to our nation, but they never achieved that either. All they managed from the wrestling with the washing machine is to let the whole world know of their basics and values. All they proved is – how rogue and uncultured they are when it comes to ethics, morals and teachings. Are these athletes or a bunch of goons? Does this uncultured lot deserve to be called as sportsperson? Won’t it be disrespect to the millions of sportsmen if we still continue to call these thugs as athletes? or

Some unofficial source correctly said about a clip of “Chak De”, which was removed after much deliberation. It was shown how the Aussie women’s team went crazy after losing the final and started smashing everything living or dead with their hockey sticks. Didn’t even spare their coach’s head and threw a dozen Washing Machines from their apartment injuring care takers and street dogs. But jokes apart – why the Aussies are so erratic when it comes to losing? I am not going to believe the statement of our incompetent OC team – the players were merely happy to top the medals tally; hence this naked display of happiness. If eyewitnesses to be believed, they were rather angry and frustrated for losing the test match that day to India and seen shouting against Sachin. Poor Tendliya might be fuming for such unsportsmanlike behavior from a bunch of so called sportsmen. Even if our OC team is taken seriously for once – is this way one celebrates their victory in Australia? Do they tear apart their public property as a token of joyfulness when they are victorious? If yes then I guess we don’t need answers as to why the rogues and barbarians roaming around Melbourne streets hit any Asian they come across.

From ages the Australians have proved how sore losers they are. They might be a great sporting nation but lag by light years when it comes to sportsmanship. Greg Chappel proved it 30 years back and Rickey Ponting authenticated it in the 2008 Sydney test. It’s can’t be a coincidence and this precisely made me Google a bit of Australian history. Hang on – don’t get me wrong as I deliberately want to sound like a racist. The logic is simple – Irish don’t understand Hindi and proven racists better be addressed in their own language.

Few might not believe – Australia was what Kalapani was for us. During the 14^th century all the rogues and goons from England and other European nations were deported to Australia. A part as punishment and another to work in the mines there. Two things were achieved in the process – cheap labor and thugs and antisocial miscreants are taken care of leaving the educated mass to live peacefully. Now this is the culture of the country – barely 300 hundred years old and the founding fathers of the society were hardcore criminals. What else can one expect from a bunch of scoundrels to pass onto their next generation and generations to follow as part of their teaching? Barbarism, intolerance and complete idiocy. Isn’t it? I am sure as a bunch of thugs they couldn’t have done anything better. As the legacy of rogue ness was taken forward handsomely, it ultimately settled in their genes. So the Australians could be the worlds first genetically modified thugs, goons and rascals.

Why should we bother? Hell no. We are none to complain on their values and teachings as long as they keep their idiocy to themselves and restrict to their own country. Scoundrels might be destroying their public property as a token of joy and shameless enough to boast about their barbarism but we educated, responsible and people full with good teachings certainly don’t. If they had that urge of destroying something to show their happiness they could have very well drive down to their High-commissioners house and ransacked his home instead. At least in the process they would have given some lessons to that shameless rascal fellow (Aussie High-commissioner) who was defending these filthy asses. Well for others – Either don’t provide Washing Machines to these uncultured set or ask the manufacturers to come up with heavier ones. On a second thought – let’s not invite these jokers and keep the sanity intact.

This piece is for all those infants who would be enjoying their feeding bottles now

I am searching for the person who said – kids are blessings of God. I don’t know what crime I might have committed in my previous incarnations, I always find myself on the receiving end of these kids. The last time I counted, my elder nephew has already peed on me 52 times. I am sure I can’t be an exception and there could be millions of helpless individuals like me who must have suffered a lot for a species called kids.

You are just back from a long and tiring trans-Atlantic flight travelling inside that cylinder. Taking your much needed sleep to get over your jet-lag and barely showing enough signs to stop your lawyers from reading out your will. ‘Yawwww..Yeiiii..WoW..WoW’, there goes that siren which would make the train whistle sound like a Lata Mangeshkar melody in comparison. You get up from your slumber as if you were thrown right into the middle of a battle zone only to find the mother consoling the inconsolable kid who in turn only seems to be interested in beating the living daylights out of your sleep. I think kids go along a very funny equation – the more sorry you are the happier the kid becomes. I am sure Alok Nath must have the happiest kids in the world. For better results you can take them in your lap and stand in one leg (more like a Nataraj pose) atop broken glass pieces.

You are in the verge of missing your important morning meeting – thanks to that extra large peg Vodka last night. You are in the middle of the hurriedness of your life and commit that cardinal mistake – Slide down the nappy, just to verify if things are fine at the ground level. Mr. Murphy comes handy and from nowhere a projectile of pee lands on you – half on your face and the rest on your ironed Shirt. As you are left with little or no time, you just wonder for a fraction of a second – was he waiting for your face with his cannon ready. Forget the meeting and prepare for your boss’s red eyes. Most frustrating would be the nonchalant attitude of the kid towards your precarious condition, same as those Bangladeshi refugees. Rather than being sorry for his water work he would be delighted at the view of a half drenched idiot in front of him and make all sorts of joyful noises. You can’t shout with joy for that flamboyant cover drive of Sachin as the kid would be sleeping and if you do so then the mother of the creature would run around the room cursing half at you and the rest at Sachin. Not to mention – you have to listen much of the juicy debates on TV with your TV almost in mute position.

I have this unfortunate coincidence of traveling with a screeching kid whenever I pack my bags. I am sure there would be thousands of flights taking off around the globe without a nappy or feeding bottle in sight but the moment I book a ticket, destiny makes sure to attach a howling infant as the flight's payload. The irony is the infant has to be positioned either just in front or behind me and most of the times in the same row. When the lady asks – which seat you would prefer, I politely reply – doesn’t matter as long as I have a howling infant close by. To amuse me, most of the time they comply with my request. In synchronous with the shrilling sound of the jet engine for take-off, the infant makes his voice shriller. ‘Yeeeeeeeeee……Wuuuuuuuuuu…’ and by the time the flight is completely airborne you are half deaf and praying more for the kid to get silent than the flight not crashing into some paddy field. Can’t the mothers of all such creatures take a fistful of those ear buds and stuff it right down the vocal cord of their infants?

Like the Jaat community who thinks the solution to every problem is nothing but a couple of tractors full of villagers each with a lathi in hand, these kids think the solution to everything is – cry and screech at the top of your voice. After getting tortured in the hands of these kids for years, I finally decided to fight back. The best solution in my mind is to pay them back in their own coin and let them taste their own medicine. When my nephew once did twist his lips to make that unbearable sound of crying in front of me, I beat him to the punch line. Before he could start crying I howled at him like I never did and made some out of the world noise. Trust me – he not only stopped in his preparation for that cry at once but also went numb for the rest of the day. It is 3 year since I haven’t seen my nephew crying in front of me at least. That’s how you should catch the bull by the horn. Tit-for-Tat pays of at times and more so if the Tat is aimed against a Tit of a infant or toddler.

It is about time you kids mold yourself and stop torturing innocent souls like us. The world is changing and for heaven’s sake change yourself for good as it would look bizarre if we get to hear fathers howling more than their infants to implement that Tit-for-Tat method of mine. I hope some civic sense would prevail with you guys and help make this world a slightly less noisy place to live in. Now enough and get back to your feeding bottles!!

The Sarkari Babus could be the most confused lot in India at present. They don’t know what are their jobs and responsibilities to begin with. They are not sure why they are employed or continue to be employed. Are they supposed to perform some duty (not that they wanted to do anything) or does they have any accountability. Whom they should report (read share) the moment they manage to get hold of some booty by their looting act. What should be the % share of the loot as it shouldn’t happen that Mantriji run away with all the loot leaving him empty handed. And most important - how one should duck himself from the agencies like Vigilance, Enforcement Directorate or any of that nonsense. Pah!! A hell lot of confusion and no wonders our Sarkari Babus are the largest consumer of blood pressure medicines in India.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I had some considerable number of encounters with Babus over the years. Most of the time, I crash upon them during my train journeys. The last Babu that I remember of having an encounter with was a shameless individual. Now you may argue – Babus and shameless, what’s new? Hang-on, to me he seemed like a bit more shameless than any average Babu could be. He in fact was an encyclopedia of shamelessness on motion as was evident starting with the very reason of his journey.

You know, I have this son who studies Engineering in Visakhapatnam and unfortunately he was arrested yesterday in connection with a bike lifting charge. Wow – I never knew I am traveling with the father of a Gladiator, I thought. What made him lift a bike? I asked. Are!! Nothing much. You know how rustic these police chaps are. Being a kid he might have done it out of exuberance and these policewalas are picturing it all in black. Intent is to mint money from me, nothing else- came the shameless reply. Are we talking about Indian kids or kids from Zimbabwe, Somalia or any other civil war torn nation? Kids in India don’t steal bikes for some fun. Do they? But this gentleman, rather being sorry for his son’s misadventure was busy covering up his dirty ass. Can’t blame him entirely though – as being corrupt himself he is bound to view the world in the same prism and more of when he himself might be stealing lakhs of Tax payer’s money, a mere bike lifting won’t come to the equation. Now imagine what this corrupt and shameless man’s son would become when he grows up. As correctly said – corruption is also somewhat hereditary. Seldom would you find a clean man’s son or daughter getting engaged in nefarious activities.

Babus are not only shameless but at the same time grossly notorious also. Their notorious act is not only limited to siphoning of public fund. The pathetic network between Babus of different cities is an equal big a pain. Yaar Sharmaji, my sister’s younger daughter has applied for a clerical post in your local Tahashil office. Could you make sure she gets this job? There you go – Sharmaji can’t just refuse Vermaji as Vermaji once had helped his brother-in-law to get that Desi Daru ka theka license. The girl being at the bottom of the heap in terms of merit, still run away with the job leaving deserving candidates like Janardan clueless. How many times you have found your railway ticket with waiting number # 2 not getting confirmed while some clown comes from behind the queue and takes your seat? Ask the clown about the Babu behind him for this interesting turnaround and you would get exiting answers, starting with how important a figure (a notch below Rahul Gandhi) he is and how many Babus he knows personally.

Few Babus who have turned senior have got the luxury of having a Red light installed atop their official cars. I still struggle to understand the utility of having this Red light for a person having the least of wit or gill to work and corrupt to the core. What a person whose upper body part is nothing but a huge pot belly and fat enough to frighten the sumo wrestlers has got to do with this Red light. If they claim it is for security – then I am sure it rather adds to the security concern than minimizing it. On a second thought – the person inside is good for nothing and worthless enough for any terrorist target. I am sure even the terrorists won't waste their time on these rascals. But ask these Babus to give-up the Red light – they would give you that expression as if you have asked both of their Kidneys instead. Not only the Babu but his wife, daughter and even his pet dog need to be ferried in that Red top car. Owner’s pride – Tax payer’s envy, I must say.

These creatures fondly known as Babus are as big scoundrels and rascals as our politicians are, when it comes to corruption and idiocy. They are masters of looting the common people on daily basis and in turn filling their and Mantriji’s coffer. Duty and responsibility are the two words these guys either learn last or give it the first miss. God only save our country from these homegrown terrorists!!

Politics is truly the last refuge of scoundrels and what a bunch of scoundrels we are blessed with. Nobody can be more correct than the person who has once said – The world would have been a far better place without a rascal species called politicians. From east to west, from upper to lower hemisphere. Name a problem and you would always find a crook in the form of a politician as the creator. They are such a dangerous species which can even turn heaven nastier than hell within days, let alone any country or state.

You don’t have to go back to history to find exemplary evidence of the destructive qualities of these rascals. The current Karnataka mess can be a good example to start with. Look at the politically elected representatives of the people of Karnataka, whom the world knows as a set of hardworking and intelligent individuals. Look at the rogues these fellows have chosen to represent them. The behaviour displayed by these so called representatives could easily put all the goons and thugs of the Bangaluru streets to shame. Manhandling the marshals. Tearing open their kurtas to do a Salman Khan act. To top it all, being the opposition leader and standing on the desk to show his displeasure all the while shouting at the top of his voice like a fish vendor is not what the people of India deserves. Recklessness went into overdrive when one Congress MLA went ahead and manhandled the commissioner of Bangaluru city. Just sit and ponder – are these our representatives? Do we really need to have such goons representing us? Don’t being honest and law abiding citizens we deserve much better things than these skunks?

Hang-on. I am no way saying Mr. Yeddiyurappa is a saint but at the same time those who were doing a naked display of idiocy are for sure bigger devils. Karnataka politics was always turbulent and this is just another cyclone it is going through. But the thing that baffles other than the goons dancing on the floor of the house is – the gross misuse of constitutional framework by both the parties. To begin with, a man with as big a tainted history as H.R.Bharadwaj (Bofors case - doing everything possible so that the culprits and he himself can duck the law) shouldn’t have been installed in a prestigious position that of a Governor. So little expected from this proven thug is to talk about honesty and transparency.

When the trust motion was called it should have been left entirely to the speaker of the house to conduct it as per our constitution’s prescription. Mr.Bharadwaj has absolutely got no business to write letters to the speaker a day before to remind him of his responsibilities. Little did Mr.Bharadwaj know that the first person who needs to learn some ethics of politics could be himself. This bizarre and un-wanted display of concern just goes onto prove that, he is getting biased and working on the instructions supplied to him- God knows from where. Being a governor, rather being interested in the stability of the state polity, he is going west and walking that extra mile to see to it that the state remains as unstable as possible. This is for sure not expected from a governor.

Now look at another gem in the fray - Mr. Yeddiyurappa himself. He conveniently decided to sleep over the scoundrel Reddy brothers and their illegal mining issue. Thanks to Sushma Swaraj who seems to be hand-in-glove with the Reddy clowns, the rascals are enjoying the best support thugs don’t deserve. Now why this apathy towards others? Why to sack few MLAs involved in a minor sugarcane scam? That’s precisely what made the whole issue go out of hand. Out of no where 15 MLAs decided to show their thumbs to Mr. Yeddiyurappa and move ahead. Wait – these 15 did not moved out because they are saints and can’t tolerate the corruption this government is supporting, but because there is a conflict of interest. The conflict is – Why only Reddies be allowed to loot the state, why not we lesser mortals?

But this doesn’t give any reasons for seasoned crooks like H.D.Kumaraswamy to come up and talk big about corruption. This H.D father-son duo can very well be more dangerous to our nation than all Pakistan based terrorist organizations put together. This smart ass promptly hurled up the entire rebel MLAs in a posh guest house in Goa, feeding them with exotic food and half of Goa’s grog and won’t be surprised if call girls were also on the speed dial. All trading, starting with horse and ending with pig went round in various places like Goa and Mumbai. The voice of H.D.Kumaraswamy doing his cheap dalali is shown in various press briefings. I am sure Karnataka would be a far better place if this father-son duo be deported to some barren island in Indian Ocean the earliest. This duo should be issued a gag order or better be thrown behind bars without filing a chargesheet for next three months. A classic case of - pot calling the kettle black.

All said and done, this issue is far from over. We are yet to see more naked display of hooliganism and rape of our democracy. But on a second thought – are we citizens have no voice? Can’t we teach these skunks the true value of democracy and send them packing to the place they belong? Can’t we for once stand up and say – enough is enough? Or like our Sarkar all options are open for us with no solution insight? Give it a thought!!

While coming to office today morning, I got a glimpse of where our country is heading. It is heading nowhere or at best to a disaster. While waiting at a busy traffic intersection for the lights to turn green, I felt a tap on my left window. A kid not more than seven years old was seen waving the morning newspaper at me with a hope in his eyes that I would buy a copy from him. When other kids like him would be preparing for their schools, this lad is running around a busy traffic intersection to earn his living. I got this jerk – it is not only the kid who is in some physical danger amidst the chaotic traffic but also our future and our boasting images of India Rising or world’s second fastest growing economy and nonsense like those are in some serious danger. Now someone shouldn’t turn up and tell me that world’s second fastest growing economy can’t ensure basic education to its next generation. Shameful is an understatement.

Where are all those NGOs who siphon a lot of money in the name of fighting for a social cause? Where were those Babus and Mantris who were talking big when Right-to-education bill was passed? I always had a feeling that our government (of anytime) is best at lip service only and more I see these kind of display of our achievements even after 60 years of independence, I feel vindicated.

On granular level – it is not only about small kids or providing basic education. In every field we have made a habit of not giving individuals their due or worse we go through the recipient’s economical stature before doing justice to their unspoken demands. All were charged up, including few HRD ministry sleuths and state education board when students of a certain posh Dehradoon school complained of getting stale soup for last three days. But I am sure, the same chaps would turn blind when they will see a small kid begging on the streets. Come-on. When there are kids selling news paper on streets, doing Phatka on car wind screens (forget any education) so that they can live another day, HRD ministry shouldn’t be too bothered about some stale soups supplied to kids getting down from Mercedes-Benz back doors. Why this selective amnesia? Is it because the kids at the Derhadoon School have their fathers posted at high position or an industrialist coughing out considerable amount to support Mantriji’s election expense? Or are the kids at Dehradoon school are different or superior than the kid I saw selling news paper today morning? Or the kids of millionires are the only set of kids left in this country who will build our nation tomorrow?

The more I question myself, the closer I get to an answer. It has got nothing to do with who is suffering or are we doing justice to our responsibilities. It is all about the weight of the wallet. You will only be heard and pampered if you carry a thick wallet or else get to the side and keep your mouth shut or find a way yourself. This precise attitude is what driving millions of our kids rather being in school seen selling News papers on streets or begging. Is this the Raising India we are boasting about?

The other day my friend sent across few pictures of the CWG opening ceremony. What struck me are few of those pictures which were depicting our hypocrisy. While rascals like Kalmadi and Bhanot were cordially allowed and welcomed by smiling females, poor chaps were seen getting pushed out by policemen. Let me assure you - the pictures were disconcerting. The guys who slogged for years to build the stadia were pushed out inhumanly while clowns who made sure that dirt and shit is thrown at our face are welcomed with garlands. Yes I am talking about those thousands of nameless and faceless daily wage laborers who slogged without any reward or recognition. I am talking about the same chaps who stayed for months in snake infected Yamuna bank to make sure that the athletes get a fabulous place to hang around. If anyone who deserves a front row during opening ceremony are these foot soldiers that sweat day-in and day-out so that we can cheer with full throat. But irony – we don’t recognize the true contributors but appease all the scoundrels. If it is not money which drives our response, then I don’t know what it is.

I hope we will change and change for good. I hope we will treat our fellow citizens as humans, irrespective of their wallet size. Hope we will care balls for dialogues – ‘Jaanta hai mera baap kaun hai’. Sorry it’s not a question which will fetch me a crore in Kaun Banega Karod Pati. Thank you very much. I hope the day will come when we will see all our children going to school than running around traffic junctions to earn a living. Hope we will stop touting and be constructive in our approach all the while respecting the true value of – Equality To All. Amen!!

Finally the Indian Jugaad did clicked once again and we ended up delivering one of the finest opening ceremonies ever. Many British tabloids are even touting it to be better than the Beijing Olympics2008. We started well and hope will end well also. The skunks that were primarily responsible for bringing shame to our country were seen all over the place with those fancy Sherwanis and designer suites. There were many attractions for the night – from the child Tabla prodigy to the flag snatching exercise of Pakistani contingent. But for me the crux of the attraction was a media shy, no-nonsense gentleman sitting somewhere in the cubicle number 37 with his trademark hair style and flaunting his smile when the TV cameras flashed on him. Yes I am talking about a certain A.P.J.Abdul Kalam.

A man of little words and high values and perhaps, one of the finest aerospace scientists the world has seen. A man who always believed – let the action do the talking, not words. A true example of simple living and high thinking. It was great to see the jam-packed stadium cheering to their best whenever his name was announced as part of the invitees.

I still remember a story told to me sometime back. In 1973 APJ took charge of India’s first satellite program, commonly known as SLV-3. The idea was to have our own satellite Rohini in orbit by 1980. As expected the whole team was new, jubilant and of course a collection of finest brains. At four minutes before the satellite launch, the computer began to go through the checklist of items that needed to be checked. One minute later, the computer program put the launch on hold; the display showed that some control components were not in order. The experts, four or five of them — told not to worry; they had done their calculations and there was enough reserve fuel. So APJ bypassed the computer, switched to manual mode, and launched the rocket. In the first stage, everything worked fine. In the second stage, a problem developed. Instead of the satellite going into orbit, the whole rocket system plunged into the Bay of Bengal. It was a big failure.

That evening ISRO chief Satish Dhawan called for a huge press briefing. Journalists from across the globe were present to listen to the technical part of the story. APJ took the entire blame on himself being the project head and promised a success soon. Within one year the re-launch was done and we had our first satellite in orbit. Great day in our space technology, I must say. That evening yet another press briefing was called. Just before entering to the press room APJ called his deputy Krishna Aiyar and ask him to address the press in place of him instead. That’s what a true leader is – take the blame for the failures and lead by example when it comes to praise and let the team take all the praise.

In contrast look at our leaders now. When the CWG was in disarray, all these Kalmadis, Bhanots, Darbaris were in a blaming spree and the best they did is vomiting nonsense. From MCD; to the dog catching team. From daily wage laborers; to the poor beggars on Delhi streets. They blamed everyone but themselves for their failure. Now when thousands (who genuinely wanted our face be saved) slogged 24*7 after that to get the games to this stage – The rascals were seen all over the place with Sherwanis and designer suits taking the limelight. If this is not enough, they are expecting a pat on the back for such spectacular show. Now it seems the mantra for success in today’s world is: When it comes to blaming – Please don’t blame me, and hang-on I am giving an excuse and a scapegoat to blame. But if you are there to praise – To hell with the rest. All are for just namesake. It is me and only me who should run away with the garland.

Can’t a guy like A.P.J inspire these crooks to mend their ways? Or are these guys so thick skinned that they are past the point of no return? Or are we missing a man like APJ in our political circle? – who won’t ever shy away from his responsibilities and would always call a spade a spade? The otherday while I was writing about the best prime minister that we ever had and all the while I was thinking – we might not be sure who the best PM we ever had but for sure A.P.J. Abdul Kalam could be the best PM we never had. Thanks to Kalmadi who thought of adding one Azad behind APJ’s name while addressing during CWG opening ceremony. Just wondering from where he got this notion of adding Azad at the back – And as such corrupts shouldn’t be allowed to take names of true leaders like APJ anyway.

This piece is from Golu – the pet dog of this cynical guy. Do you know something called induction effect? The effect gets more violent if the thing one can get induced with is contagious. Writing nonsense is just one of them. Thanks to this chap’s irritating habit of writing crap, day-in and day-out, I ended up developing a little bit of that bad habit myself. So if this piece of literature beats the living day lights out of you and you search dearly for the author with a machine gun in one hand and a Himesh Reshamiya’s CD in other then – just ask me for this man’s address, which I would be more than eager to share. Fortunately I got this man’s laptop open and that too at my disposal (as he has gone out). I think it is time someone gives this good for nothing human his long pending due.

To begin with - I am seriously disappointed with these two guys (Cynical and lady Cynical). If there would have been anything remotely close to ‘National Dogs Rights Commission’, then trust me, this chap would have been behind bars long time back.

So getting back to my bad luck. All was fine (till recently) when I adopted this couple (Cynical and lady Cynical) some 3 years back. They were quite loving. Respecting my needs and demands and most important were serious about my image and self respect. But I always knew this crazy guy would do something terrible someday that would make me turn one revolutionary. But this is not what hurt me. Looking at the irrational behavior of this man, it was inevitable but was not expecting it from the lady Cynical. The lady always looked like carrying a mature head on her shoulders (unlike her husband). But I guess thanks to – a part for the induction effect and Mr. Murphy for the other part. This lady also started to behave crazy, much like her husband. You know – if something going to go wrong it will go wrong and I ended up being the biggest casualty of Murphy’s theorem.

One fine day this couple did what I never expected they would. Would you believe – they brought home a cat. Yes that filthy and probably the most irritating creature God has ever created. The moment that dirty fellow entered, I was sure my privacy and self respect is in for some serious dent. Lady Cynical turned hysterical at once, seeing this animal, as if Olay has made her their brand ambassador with a promise to supply all her expensive and exotic cosmetics for the rest of her life. ‘Kuchi..Muchi…choo sweet. So spongy with soft skin and look at this cutie pie’s color..choo white’. Spongy, white and sweet? Why so many words? Can’t you just call that rabid mongrel as Rasagolla and be done away with? Nonsense lady. And this cynical guy was equally hysterical, if not more. Little did I know that my ordeal is just starting.

The first day itself was one hell of an experience. Once done with my dinner I headed for a quick power nap before I could get into the job (policing around) at hand. But I found my bed being occupied by this rogue creature. Now I thought to give this skunk some lessons for venturing into my personal stuffs. But lady cynical jumped in for the rescue of that creature and rather being sympathetic towards me she turned her guns instead. All the while comforting that filthy animal in her laps she gave an earful to me and asked me not to be aggressive to this new member ever. Now this unwanted love towards this creep by the lady turned this animal a Pakistan. A rouge nation with overhead attitude because of some uncalled for love from US. Not to mention after that unfortunate incident I had to adjust quite many times on the naked floor while this filthy ass enjoying my bed.

I even once tried to pass on the book on pet behavior to this lady cynical where it was mentioned - Dogs are man’s best friend and cats are a selfish lot. Alas, the lady has decided to turn one Gandhari instead. From my bed to my lunch bowl and my food all one by one was promptly hijacked by this Pakistan. Most frustrating is whenever I tried to show my displeasure, I was shown the red eyes and asked to behave properly. Disgusting – a clown is infringing in my privacy but I am not even supposed to protest. Let me not tell the amount of humiliation that I am facing on daily basis from our dogs community. All are laughing at me on the very fact that I am not only staying with a cat but also playing a second fiddle to this creature and tolerating all its atrocities. They are even mulling to throw me out of the community as I am rapidly turning out to be a shame for global dog family.

Honestly this creature is getting into my nerves now. I feel I would go mad someday and would end up doing something which Mahatma Gandhi won’t be very proud of. In fact I even tried that once (when both the cynical were away). If you think the cat would have made some funny noise and run away then hang on. Instead of running away he turned back at me and did a Kargil instead. Can you see the deep cut mark on my nose? It is the resultant of that Kargil war. Bloody Musaruf. Please someone inform some genuine NGOs to come in for my rescue as I am fast losing my faith on the statement – Every dog has it’s day as I never had mine after the arrival of that filthy creature in my life. Please help!!!