Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Religion and us
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Jitender "Vicky" Bablani
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Thursday, July 10, 2008
Life without the Left
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Jitender "Vicky" Bablani
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19:07
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Thursday, July 3, 2008
Reservations on reservation
- We want at least 50% reservations in all educational institutes, central and state government entities.
- We even want a bar in every Government owned building including local police stations and picket posts. We wouldn’t mind if the women police personals come forward and become a bartender for us.
- The liquor vends should be made open on 24/7 and on pan India basis.
- Alcohol Subsidy.
- We would even suggest you to promote small ice-cream-carts type Liquor-vending-carts, to be installed on every corner of the country.
- A special insurance scheme should be launched and also the premium be paid, by the Government.
- Free Medi Care.
- Free Bus, Train, Air travel, because we often even don’t know the difference.
- Alcohol products should be made available on Ration Cards, on all Ration shops.
- A constitution should be passed to punish all the wives who nag us for drinking.
- I would suggest you to create a different quota all together for us. Now that will read like S.C.’s, S.T’s, OBC’s and Byovara’s…
- It should be made mandatory for every individual to carry a bottle of a whiskey, always, period.
- Two-wheelers and four-wheelers should be made with fancy glass holders all around. It should be made mandatory as in the case of Seat belts.
- For the sake Byovara brethren of poor community, I request to make it mandatory for all municipal corporations to clean the gutters regularly. And if possible make arrangements for the beddings too.
These are just a few demands, the list could be endless. I request you to throw in your two cents as I am yet to prepare my final list to be put in front of the Government.
Please leave your traces on comments page.
Chow for now
Raawanistically yours
Chota Raawan
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Thursday, May 8, 2008
Food for Thought
I now realize that my eating habits are not only hurting my denim’s buttons but my fellow earthlings also. One is a case of The Americans, rest pertains to the women I had been on. The Americans are disturbed the way I eat and how much I eat. Even though a content of my meal doesn’t even match the things they are stuffing themselves with. For instance we use Olive oil for other reasons than the Americans do. I hope you don’t want me to explain it here.
When Mr. George W. Bush included me in his speech it was the most proud moment of my life. I mean the first man of the earth mentioning me in his speech; it’s a great achievement, no? Now somebody would ask that when the heck this Bush guy talked about this Raawan thing. Well he talked about people of Indian Middle Class, I am The Indian middle class, eating up all the resources of the world, ME. Got it.
Prosperity in countries like
Mr. Bush was a cheerleader of the
Another thing Mr. Bush pointed at was that we Indians were always eating less nutritious food, and we are now demanding more nutritious food. Dude I bet my fat behind, that you haven’t been to
We Indians are having our “better and nutritious food” since
Well Indians are always blamed for one thing or the other, but this certainly is the best one coming from the leading man of the planet. The next thing we know is we are blamed for a chimpanzee slapping Mr. Bush for looking like him (the chimpanzee). Hats off to his creative team for such a brilliant idea to make Americans look like an idiot, that too, again… Anyways, blame us Indians for any crisis but you can never blame us for producing a stupid politician, that’s RAAWANISM…
Chow for now
Raawanistically yours
Chota Raawan
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Thursday, April 17, 2008
What woman wants…?
I finally managed to crack the code of a puzzle which dazzled the human brains (male) for centuries. Its better than cracking The Da Vinci Code. It was so simple to do that even fifth grader could have done it, or better yet Shahrukh Khan. I now know what woman wants. I am strongly of a view that a woman wants a woman, well… as a companion. Its, what they want, or better, say they want feminine characters in men. Now that you know finally what woman wants, I am going to explain my research analysis.
She wants her man to be sensual, sensitive, caring, affectionate and blah, blah, blah and etc… Weren’t those of the male macho characters that the cave woman liked when she got attracted to the cave man? The cave woman certainly had fallen for his manly characters. His unmatched quality for hunting the birds with boomerang. Killing a lion for her new lingerie. Watching kids playing with the pet lion was his favorite time pass, “Ooops… darling here goes your daughter from the neighbor, you can always call him home again, no sweat.”
All those manly characters that she liked in cave man, evaporated in like 40,000 years and it changed the whole concept of marriage.
Lets consider the case of one beautiful night, when right after having the supper, the couple is sitting in their bed, talking. Woman talking about how she managed to faux-pass man’s mother. Man busy in his thoughts surfing channels, TV on mute. Now what do you think the two are thinking.
Man: If only she could be silent for a minute I would know what Rachel and Ross are talking about in “Friends”. Necessity is the mother of invention, like lip reading. Learn Lip reading, dude. Some of my friends told me that they are very good at lip reading. They would simply switch to a news channel and let there lip reading expertise to work for them, or at least they can read the scrolling bar.
Woman: If only he cares about me and loves me, he could at least look at me while I am speaking to him. He doesn’t love me anymore, or may be I looking fat. Am I looking fat? Our cat is growing fatter; I need to check what she eats… and so on and on and on.
I tell you guys Hoongah the cave man was a patient man. He did not even have a TV set. He must have spent his evenings looking at the empty walls of his stone cave. Now that’s what I call mute. That must be really frustrating. Equally for you Raawan uncle, you too did not have TV sets in your times. But you could afford all those belly dancers in your personnel harem. Those girls must have been a great help.
Any ways men and women think differently, so differently that the interior decorations of their minds are different. While woman’s brain is multicolored and there are frills all around, man’s brain has all the toys and tanks and the tank tops he removed, too. You would not find men talking about their favorite colors; they prefer to talk about their favorite beer, or favorite neighbor’s wife. But woman wants her husband to talk of beauty and colors, which is not a manly thing to do. Hence proved: she wants a woman to talk to. If only the sex part of the marriage is taken out just to think about the possibility, I think a woman can live with a woman for centuries. Talking.
It would be a convenience-of-sort kind of relation. They can share the daily chores. Like Miss A (sorry Mrs.) can wash the clothes one day and Mrs. B can do the laundry the other day. An entire day would be kept for bitching after every 28 days. The house would smell like a temple, and it would be as clean a house as it was never used, for years at end. A fat proportion (say 93.87%) of the household income would be spent on telephone and credit card bills.
A room would be dedicated to the topless posters of Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, all the Khans, Abhishek Bachhan, Hritik Roshan and Bobby Darling, oops, sorry not at least Bobby Darling, topless Karan Johar would still be better. A room can also be dedicated to stuffed toys, or may be we could avoid that, as a girl or two can easily fit in a six-by-six foot bed with fifty stuffed toys. Some times I think it’s a matter of choice, but we would not discuss it here.
No questions would be asked if somebody is crying in home. Crying would be treated as a healthy exercise in the household. In fact an hour can be kept for crying, daily, as house chores. In-laws would be treated (or not treated) equally. An entire legislation can be jotted for what and what not to be taken from the in-laws, as an advice. Nagging would be treated as holy practice.
It would actually be a dream world for woman, and I think its worth a shot, what say you. Do let me know.
Chow for now
Raawanistically yours
Chota Raawan
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Labels: cave man, cave woman, friends, hoongah, lip reading, man, mute, talking, TV, What woman wants, woman
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Monkey Business
Jai Shri Raawan
For the past few months
Anyways I went into deep depression soon after seeing your effigy burning to flames on Dusherra grounds. It really hurts me. It took four months, a harsh winter, an American recession and a steep share market fall to make me come out of the depression. And not to forget the efforts made by Zee TV to convince me that you were very much alive in your times. Come to think of this, do you think all the above calamities are happening because of my state of mind. Some would say I need anti-depressants again. But hey who cares. Lets get on with the Diwali thing…
It all started when, well… right after you died. They started celebrating as soon as you took your last breath and left for heavenly abode. As unwise as I can be, I don’t understand what is so bad about you avenging for your sister’s nose. I think it all started there. Why Laxman had to do that? Who in his sane mind would chop somebody’s nose off? Somebody needed psychic help back then or may be a self help book. I mean I wouldn’t even tell my mother in law that she looks like a truck even if she does. I swear I never did. But Laxman had to do it. And then all you did was abducted Shri Ram’s wife. Now what is so bad about it? I mean ask any married man of today. They would be rather happy and even pay you to do that. On the other hand I think you only wanted to tell these two brothers that under no circumstances they can chop somebody’s sister’s nose off. That is why you kidnapped Sita and flew her to your own kingdom. Now that was a modest thing to do. You could have chopped Sita’s nose too, but you didn’t. That’s chivalry and Raawanism.
Then one fine morning you realize you have an army of Monkeys, Eagles and Beers with a few men at your doorstep for rescue operations. You can fight men or women if needed be, but birds and animals that too as dangerous as monkeys. Give me a break, they bite you know. That was an unethical thing to do. I think you didn’t have “code-of-conduct-during-war” kind of thing back then. I sincerely hope Osama-bin-Laden and Musharaf wouldn’t take a clue from here. Monkeys for army, great, lets show them the videos, teach them to swear for Jihad and send them to
Talking about monkeys, another monkey business that caught my attention is an allegation on an Indian who called an Australian a monkey. Indians living or going overseas are developing a habit of relating people with animals and birds. First Mr. Ronen “Chicken” Sen called our politicians chickens and caught himself boiled in a soup. And now Bhajji called Symonds a monkey, or so it seems now. I could still remember my mother fondly calling me “Baandar kahin ka” out of sheer affection. For me or the monkey I can now question my mother for the same. Or… I can simply ask her to call me “Symonds kahin ka, or Andy kahin ka,” whatever she prefers. But at least I will be feeling proud to be referred as such a great batsman.
Now that Justice Hansen has given his judgement that Bhajji did not call Symonds a monkey but used only abusive language as light as “Teri Ma Ki…”, which in turn calls for a lesser punishment. Now I know that while playing an international match you can swear by somebody’s mother or sister but can not call him a four legged free soul of the trees. So much so that for gentlemen’s game and decency, that’s Raawanism I must tell you.
Another thing that came out of the Indo-Aussie series is that no umpire in the world would give an Indian a Leg Before Wicket out. You can read the expression on the umpire’s face when asked by the ballers on the field, its like “Are you nuts, looook, he is an Indian, I cant give him LBW out. I don’t know about you but I will be thrown out of the series.”
To update you, do watch out the tri-nation series that includes
Chow for now
Raawanistically yours
PLEASE ALSO SEE THE LAST OF THE PAGE…
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Monday, October 29, 2007
Marriage is fun... Ya right!
Dear Raawan Uncle
Jai Shri Raawan
With your blessings and well wishes we (me and my missus) celebrated our 10th marriage anniversary, last week. Some how my friends were happier than I was, probably because of the alcohol flowing freely on the bar table. These 10 years were more better than worse, more sweeter than sour. We tried our best to stay together and have fun and everybody around us acknowledged that by drinking to the hilt.
Uncle, with this letter I want you to understand the psyche of a modern day husband. Of course while you were married to Mandodari aunty you would have had your set of problems. But in those days at least saas bahu soap operas were not there. So embrace yourself to enter into the mind of a today’s married man. The following incidences are the feedbacks given to me by intellectual husbands, and I am generalizing the whole institution of marriage with this. I thought it would be only wise to raise a voice of concern for all my brethren.
Marriage is fun, that’s interesting as it is but harsh realities of life makes it simply impossible to believe. Couples married for a long time, I think are just growing together for the sake of it. For a woman it may be a satisfaction of being looked after or rather looked at by somebody, but for a man it’s to look after and look into every matter in detail, it’s certainly different.
For the first few months sex blinds and binds as well. Half of the married population gets pregnant around this period only. Rest takes their time to stroll around and learn from other’s mistake. That’s a wise decision to take but then it would happen sometime later and also you will have to wipe those cute little bums of your baby some day. Men don’t even realize at this point that their personal hanger had been invaded. For one the wardrobe which used to be full of dull shades of blue, black, green and brown looks like a riot of colors now. I would like to update you that there are like 18 shades of every color available in the market. I for once thought I was color blind all my bachelor life. And for second your bathroom now consists of 287 toiletries, out of which, you can not even spell half of them right. One of my friends was ordered by his wife to use a cream to soften his skin. Tauba, tauba… that’s horrible. Its like making Marsian to speak Venusian. But its still fun.
When you get out of the initial hibernation then only you realize what you have gotten yourself into. The war fare starts with smaller arguments. The ego takes the front and your dreams back seat. Your-parents-my-parents phenomenon takes its toll on this relationship. But its still fun.
Your mother in law has a major role in your life. She is more important than a condom actually. She is omnipresent, really almost like a god. She is the best woman on the face of earth. Sometimes you think you should have got married to her as well. But I guess you are already married to her as you are married to her daughter. She is going to be there for the rest of your life, well, between you two.
The day in day out guerilla war starts at this time. You like the company of your friends, and she wants to go to her mother’s place. The interference of your in-laws increases by the day. Your mother in law knows what you had for dinner, even though you were dead drunk to know it your self. She teaches her daughter all the god forsaken recipes of nuclear waste over the cellular phone, and eventually you get to eat that and pay the bills too. Your father in law is the only sane guy who knows where to put your money.
Your parents are sworn enemies of your wife. They seem to have developed a phenomenon, not to like any thing that your wife does. Suddenly they started to dislike spicy food and your wife cooks everything hot. They don’t like your wife’s taste of colors and she hates their taste of food. Eventually it becomes your battle and you resolve to; if you are going to do this to my parents I will do that with your parents. That actually diffuses the situation and you start living a calmer life, as a loner. The kid grows as a brat and you as a drunkard. It’s still fun.
Every woman wants her husband to be like her father, but he is like his father. Every man wants his wife to be like his mother, but she is her mother’s daughter. Expectation breeds contempt. That’s my take on the subject.
Rest, you can update me on the subject as you are married to Mandodari aunty for a long time.
Waiting for your words of Raawanism.
Raawanistically yours
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Saturday, October 20, 2007
Ronen Chicken
Dear Raawan Uncle
The Raawan of the week award goes to Mr. Ronen Sen, though he is caught in a time of trouble. The
He also kept on reiterating that he used headless chicken thing for the scribes. Now he will be tried on two counts. He firstly used abusive language against our politicians (hoh….) and now he is calling them liars (bigger hohhhhhh…)
Now he will be ambushed from all the corners. The recent news is that he is called back to face the privilege committees from both Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha. Also he will be given a book to read in the parliament, named, “Count your chicken before they hatch.” So it would be all chicken and eggs for him despite being a Navaratra week. Right after the committee’s hearings he will be put on an aircraft and be dispatched to
So what exactly is a headless chicken anyways? I think by saying a headless he meant brainless and by saying chicken he meant… well, chicken. So that means he wanted to call them brainless chicken. That’s so brainless thing to do Mr. Ambassador.
There is another storm brewing up in the other part of
Meanwhile my neighborhood Dhaba owner is busy working on a new recipe containing chicken and is intending to name it “Ronen Chicken.” “I thought I should take the advantage of the situation. I am not reveling the contents of the recipe yet and planning to launch the “Ronen Chicken” right after the Navratras, and also my boys will serve the platter wearing Khadi,” informs the proud owner, Dhakkan Kumar.
All the best Mr. Sen, welcome back to
Chow for now,
Raawanistically yours
Chota Raawan
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Labels: 123, ambassador, chicken, committee, headless, india, politicians, Raawan, Ronen, Sen, US
Monday, October 15, 2007
Interview of Ms. Blue Line…
Jai Shri Raawan
Dear Raawan Uncle
I am all proud to tell you that I am officially the first human being to communicate with a mechanical one. I was blessed with an opportunity to visit the dump yard where the cops are keeping all the confiscated blue line busses. I was there to get my car which was also confiscated by the cops just because it had a big blue line scratched on the bonnet. Probably the handy work of a neighbor’s brat. I don’t blame cops for the misunderstanding, they are specifically told to bring in all the blue lines.
As I entered the dump yard I saw my car was standing pretty with a parked blue line bus. Ordinarily I would have suffered a stroke seeing my baby standing so close to a bus. But then what can an innocent looking bus sitting pretty in a dump yard do to my car. Nothing… probably. As I stepped ahead to get my baby I heard some one sobbing. Sure enough the voice in concern was coming from the Blue Line bus. Startled, I asked “who is there?” “Its me Ms. Blue Line, the bus,” answered the poor ahhhhh… well bus, and started the interview which created history.
Me: I can’t believe a bus can speak.
Ms. Blue Line: If I can crawl, run, crush and crash, why do you think I cant speak.
Me: Yah but, you are a bus…
Ms. B.L.: You humans live with so many pre-conceived notions. Anyways to tell you the fact, its only I who can speak among my peers and also you are the only one who can hear me.
Me: So I am the lucky one
Ms. B.L.: Well if you are still alive despite being so close to me, then either I am not being driven or you are really lucky.
Me: Now there don’t scare me, tell me how did you land here and why were you crying?
Ms. B.L.: Tell you the fact I am feeling a little out of the place. I mean I am here being imprisoned for a mistake which I haven’t made.
Me: What do you mean by that, you guys (ahem…) have killed so many people still you think you are innocent?
Ms. B.L.: Well tell me what do you say when your computer stops working. I mean Kaboosh, nothing on the screen?
Me: I would say my computer is crashed.
Ms. B.L.: Yah right! It’s the Computer that crashed. Let me explain it to you its like blaming your computer for crashing though its your Disk Operating System which crashes. Bole to DOS, right?
Me: Right
Ms. B.L.: In my case my DriverS and OwnerS crash me its not I who crash them. Bole to they are the DOS in my case. They operate me I am not the one who operate them, and they are still out there in the open and what do I get, a synonym like Killer bus and imprisoned. Those drivers are killers not me.
Me: Well you have a point but then the government is all out to nab them also.
Ms. B.L.: It never happened and it would never happen in the future also. And talk about the government, remember when one of my sisters was crashed in a house by one of the errant drivers, all they did was, they changed our color from red to blue. As if Delhiites are all color blind, or may be the government think they are. Now, even I think Delhiites are color blind.
Me: What??? Ahem… ok what next?
Ms. B.L.: They will again change our color what else probably to a green, but personally I like magenta or black may be. I don’t know I am still confused about the color.
Me: So why don’t you retaliate? Do something to convey your feelings, by lets say, refuse to start in the morning or may be crush a traffic cop for a change.
Ms. B.L.: Oh no we have seen enough blood on the road already please don’t talk about it. I would share a secret with you we are planning an agitation and a march to the Jantar Mantar. I suggest you don’t travel on the day after tomorrow.
Me: Thanks for the information, but I think they have already planned to phase out you guys in less than a year.
Ms. B.L.: Well I know but what good it would be if they are going to hire the same set of un-trained drivers for the new busses.
Me: O Hello, I would like to mention The Metro here, what do you say about that?
Ms. B.L.: Aaah the Metro, if that’s the case I would like to dedicate a song for her, “Kar chale hum fida jaan-o-tan saathiyon ab tumhare hawaale
Me: (Sob…)
Period…
Me: Would you like to dedicate a song for Delhiites also?
Ms. B.L.: Ya why not, “Kal khel mein hum hon na hon, gardish mein
Me: (even bigger Sob…)
Me: All the best and good bye (SOB…)
I know it would be rude of me to say to you to enjoy the Dussehra, but any ways Happy Dussehra. That’s Raawanism, LOL…
Chow for now,
Raawanistically yours
Chota Raawan
Monday, October 8, 2007
So much so that for distraction...
Jai Shri Raawan
These traffic policemen have a fetish for me, or so it seems. Yesterday I was challaned for talking on my cellular while driving. I was ambushed and waived by big burly, Raawanistic looking cop, who almost threw himself on my car’s bonnet. I slowed my car and informed him in gestures that I would be stopping my car on the bolder. I didn’t know I was this good in gesturing. Anyways, I was slow hence he was walking just outside my cars periphery. For once I felt like the
I asked him “kya hua bhai sahib?” To which he said “aapne na maloom ke hoya? Fone pe baat kar rahe they aap. chalo le-cence (license) dikhao” Okay time to tell a lie. We Delhites are good at judging just about the right time to lie. I think while living in
I explained “Arey nahin bhai sahib
His patriotism and resolve to challan me, made me hand over my license to him, looking at which he questioned “asli hai?” Hurt I was, I nodded and he proceeded to his immediate boss called Z.O. (whatever that means, zoo operator I think). I was awarded a challan of Rs. 900/-. There goes my Friday party with friends.
Now my question to the Commissioner of Police, if the inmates of Tihar jail can use the mobile why can’t we do it, hmm, well… while driving our cars? I mean that’s Raawangiri actually. To which he reverted back (not to me, to the press dude!) it’s a distraction while driving. Talking about distractions Mr. Commissioner, we mortal souls, driving in
We dodge rikshawalas, auto walas, cycle walas, uncles and aunties on the road. Tell you the fact; I still wonder how blueline bus walas manage to keep their small vehicles on even smaller roads, (I would try to do that one day, Raawan uncle). It seems like stray dogs have a fancy for my car, and does that cow sitting in the middle of the road ever moved, I think not. Why can’t we move them to a safer place?
“No, No, No. These cows can not be moved. These poor creatures have their rights too. Move the road if you have to,” tells Maneka Gandhi to media persons.
Potholes on the road are distractions; rather road between stretches of potholes is a distraction. I strongly believe that the F1 racers can best be trained only on Indian roads. They would have too many potholes to dodge, (oops sorry read road). In fact there are so many potholes on the roads that it would be a disgrace to call it a road. “Its good for the bowel movement,” said the Chairman of National Commission for Road and Safety, “more over people tend to drive slow if there are many potholes hence fewer accidents.”
Even the speed limit of 50 for cars on ring road is a distraction. I don’t know about Sarkari vehicles you travel on but our petrol guzzling beasts cross 60 even if we roll them on the bridges of
Your people sitting behind the bushes waiting for us, is one of the distractions too. The other day I was driving with an NRI friend sitting next to me. The poor soul came back to
“Where is your Commissioner and my husband?” asked missus Commissioner. “Behind the bushes madam checking the speed of that car coming this way” replied the orderly. “Oho! Go and tell him its his son-in-law visiting him after a long time. He would scare him off again by giving him another challan like he did last, when “beta” was here with the barat.”
Well Mr. Commissioner here goes your dinner.
With regards
Raawanistically yours
Chota Raawan
Saturday, September 29, 2007
What a Match!
Jai Shri Raawan
Dear Raawan uncle
Did you see the match? We won the world cup dude. Oops sorry I didn’t mean to call you dude but you can see I am very excited about the match. It had been a long time since
Ever since the time Indian team reached the finals of the world cup they have been showered with blessings, flowers, wishes, money and in some cases, few of the distinguished team members were showered with bikes and cars too. Wear your helmet Pathan. Incoming!
We (read Indian Cricket team) crushed the English, devoured the South Africans and un-glorified the Aussies. Ok! I know un-glorified is not a word but I love creating new words. So hush! That’s Raawanism. And finally the final we won against our (read Indian Cricket team’s) archrivals, Pakistanis. I am referring to Indian Cricket team again and again because my contribution to the cricket world is strictly restricted to watching matches and that too while drinking beer in my comfortable bedroom or if lucky in a pub with friends. And of course like every other Indian I strongly believe that I can be a very successful captain for Indian Cricket Team. Anyways, the match between
Few of my bookie friends told me that all of these matches were rigged. After loosing to
The men in blue should thank Misbah for his misjudged flick in the end. The Pakistanis should thank Joginder Sharma for all his balls thrown out side the off stump, which made it a close match in the end (does this guy ever bowls straight) and I would like to thank Dhoni for not giving the ball to Joginder Sharma in the bowl-out against
Finally I would like to thank the Indian Cricket team for making us proud.
With regards
Raawanistically yours
Chota Raawan
P.S.: I am serious about buying the tickets sir, but please be prepared to buy 09 tickets.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Dear Raawan uncle...
Jai Shri Raawan
Dear Raawan uncle
First let me congratulate you to make it to the internet and welcome you to the virtual world. I am starting this page as a tribute to you, who against all odds won my heart to be my super hero. I chose you to be my mentor because I see you all around me. In politicians, policemen, municipality, defense, finance, my boss and his dog, my ex-girlfriends, my in-laws and last but not the least my wife. I would say you are in every one. You are omni present. Every body has Raawanistic characters in them. Raawanism is every where. Raakshas and Raakshis are every where. I first heard your name when my grand mother called me Raawan because I broke her spectacles for the third time in a week. I was a toddler than. I will tell you more about it later.
I want to proudly inform you that once even my daughter was given the part of Raawan in her kindergarten Ram-Leela. I felt like celebrating Diwali in the month of May. As usual my wife played spoil sport and SUGGESTED me not to celebrate the occasion. Anyways, I could not sleep for a week. I was so excited that I felt like jumping and started jumping red lights and now hold world record for most number of challans issued to one single party in a day.
My infatuation started the day I was called Raawan and since then it has grown with me. I started finding more opportunities to be called by your name. My teacher, my father, my mother, my friends, my ex-girlfriends, their parents and now my wife and even my daughter fondly call me Raawan. My in-laws even consider me your direct descendant. I wonder why?
But tell me where I have been wrong to follow my mentor. I have done everything to make you proud of me except of course kidnapping. I really could not do it. Last time I tried that I ended up giving the poor soul my gold chain. My dad thrashed me black and blue.
I think kidnapping and not the prostitution is the oldest profession of the world. It was you my dear sir who introduced the idea of kidnapping. Although in this economically twisted world they do it for a ransom. I am happy to inform you that since its inception, kidnapping has grown to a full fledged and prospering industry. Growing by billions of dollars every year and spreading all across the globe. From
The Indian state of
I have also heard it from the grape-vine that the criminals from all across the globe are sending their new recruits to get trained in
But sadly enough with a lot of recruitment requirements coming from middle-east these days; we are facing a man-power-crunch. Now this is what I call “Brain Drain”. I think Indian government should do something to stop this exodus of talents from our country.
The modern day kidnappers are equipped with all kinds of gadgets like mobile phones, latest automatic guns and even rocket launchers. I am sure they must be missing that Pushpak thing you used to fly, but never mind; sure enough, some body would catch up with that too. Imagine a kidnapper kidnapping a kidnappee (one who is kidnapped) in a chopper called Pushpak by Hindustan Aeronautics Limited. Oh! I feel like crying.
I will keep you posted from now on, on the current issues. Please bookmark this page and keep coming back every now and then.
With regards
Raawanistically yours
Chota Raawan
Posted by
Jitender "Vicky" Bablani
at
16:39
22
comments

