I am made to believe that few hours from now, a judgment regarding the Ayodhya title suit case would be declared to the Country. Hopefully, justice shall be done. But what is more important, is the question. Whether Indians would learn any lessons out of this holy mess they have generated?
Fried with healthy dose of politics of pseudo secularism, spiced by the unfair reporting by the Press, slowly cooked by the Judiciary for more than 60 years. I, the follower of Lord Ram, feel that my God has been insulted. Thoroughly. You divided the country for the sake of power on communal lines, fine, but to drag Gods in the middle of the street and use it for I don't know what, is bad. Very very Bad.
History, points out to the fact that, Babar, the Mughal Emperor, in an attempt to escalate his power, demolished several Hindu Shrines and built Mosques on it. Many of chroniclers of this fact belonged outside India and were not even Hindus. Some evidence has even come to light, which is categorized as Archeological evidence.
The Indian media, partisan it is, always pins the blame and shame on the Hindutva forces, especially the BJP for raking the issue for their own gains. What they never tell us, is that the case itself came much much before 1992, when the mosque was demolished by a hyper charged mob.
The first case regarding the dispute of land came up in the year 1885, when the British ruled our country. In the year 1950, yet another case was filed in the courts and another in 1959.
What else the Media hides from us, behind its Hindutva bashing ideology? They don't tell us, that the Indian National Congress, deliberately never felt interested enough to solve the case, when they could have, being the party in power at the Centre. Instead, Rajiv Gandhi in order to gain Hindu votes, ignited the Ramjanambhoomi Movement by getting the gates of the Mosque unlocked and allowed Hindus to install idol of Lord Ram inside and pray upon it.
So, the Hindus get frustrated. For years and years, no justice is given to them, and they form a movement. What is wrong with that? The Media bashes them down, label all such leaders as villains. The media and the Indian public at large now hold the view that it is OK, not to hang someone like Afzal Guru ( who carried out attacks on the Indian Parliament in 2002) for he is a Muslim. But if a Hindu wants his God to be better respected, he is a monster.
L.K. Advani, wrote in depth about this chapter in his memoirs and provided a great insight on the issue. His point that, their is an Islamic atmosphere in Mecca, similarly Vatican has a Christian atmosphere, so what is wrong in asking for a Hindu atmosphere in Ayodhya?
I ponder over this point, and realize that in almost every religion, be it Buddhism or Sikhism or any other religion or sect, birthplaces of Gods are preserved and prayed with lot of fervor and devote.
I also agree with Advani that, it was wrong to fell down the mosque. Our religion, according to me, does not give us permission to wrong against someone's belief. Ram was happy to give away his kingdom to his brother, when his step mother asked for it. Ram would not have been happy on a disputed land. Like in every communal mess, Indian National Congress played the pseudo secular card well, and gained maximum out of it. The Indian Media supported the Congress's cause with great gusto and belief.
Hence, I feel bad for feelings of Muslims too. Agreed, the mosque was not in use for a long time. Still, it was a mosque. It may have been made by force. Still, it was a mosque. And it did not deserve to be treated like this. I am a religious person, by choice and feelings of insult to God, I can relate to well.
That, it all happened to quench the lust of power of the Indian National Congress is shameful. They gained the Muslim vote in the infamous Shah Bano case, and inflamed the issue of Ayodhya to gain Hindu votes as well.
Worst is, Indians have sunk to very very low level of shame and hypocrisy. It shall bring the country to doom, am hundred percent sure. They not only support such things, but also enjoy it to the hilt. See, 1984 riots, 2002 riots, Afzal Guru case and endless such cases where Justice has never been done. And shall never be done. For, in this market of madness and chaos, Indians are asking for blood and mayhem, and they shall have it. I have no iota of doubt over it.
I close this, with a remembrance of Sardar Vallabhai Patel. He re - built the Somnath Temple in Gujarat, that too had faced the brunt of the foreign invaders. I know, it is no use of wishing, still I wish, he would have resolved the Ayodhya issue, himself. For, he was a man, who would have satisfied both Hindus and Muslims. As of now, the High Court's decision is likely to be challenged in the Supreme Court. So, no end of this debate is near sight. Not in the near future it seems.
Suffered; both the religions have.
Justice; both of them deserve.
Unite; everyone should.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
The Chutki Girl
I don't know whether I would ever write an autobiography or not. My business mind reminding me always, a hard core fact that very few people would be interested in it and those probably already would know all about my life. Or, at least whatever I want to tell of it.
But their is one incident, carved in my memory that I would always find important to include in any book about myself. Here it goes.
Few years ago, on a breezy night, I had gone for a walk with a friend. He wanted a cigarette for himself and I decided to get a meetha paan for myself from the same place. So, while we were about to approach the Pan Shop, a girl comes in front of us, begging for money. Not interested in encouraging begging on the streets, we shooed her away. The girl in question, I still recall was about 3 or 4 feet in height, and I don't remember her face, hence I cannot estimate her age. Nevertheless, we can say that she was a kid.
At the shop, as we were ordering the stuff we needed, this girl appears again. This time, beckoning the pan wala, for a packet of chutki. Now, for those who have never heard about chutki, it is a mouth freshener cum pan masala which many believe contains gutkha (tobacco) as well. I have never had it, hence my idea about it is not clear. Still, when we were kids, it was not considered to be a good thing for children and you can google for more info on that.
Coming back to the main story, me and my friend were bit amused in a sarcastic fashion as to is this why children beg money from us? To have chutki? And that too begging late nights for a packet of chutki? The pan wala told us that the girl was a regular customer of his, and he could not refuse her. She gave him the money, which probably she had gotten from another of the pan wala's customers. Now, I have traveled a lot, by God's grace, and am generally numb to suffering of people. Seen a lot, enough to numb your senses to anyone's plight. Hence we moved on, without giving another thought to the matter.
On our way back, we come across this girl again. This time, she is with a boy, definitely younger to her. Both are sharing the packet of chutki. Me and my friend pass through, discussing how such people would never work hard to make a day's living than to beg and eat such stuff.
Circa, 2010 and I still at times, have recurring memories of that night.
What would have happened to that girl in this big wide World?
Was chutki her dinner that night? Possibly, she had nothing else to eat and chutki was the cheapest alternative available.
How many more such girls would be their across India, begging at nights?
Such are the questions, that at times, just pop up into my mind, while driving or gardening or walking. I brush them aside, such are the ways of life I tell myself and move on with my schedule and routine.
But their is one incident, carved in my memory that I would always find important to include in any book about myself. Here it goes.
Few years ago, on a breezy night, I had gone for a walk with a friend. He wanted a cigarette for himself and I decided to get a meetha paan for myself from the same place. So, while we were about to approach the Pan Shop, a girl comes in front of us, begging for money. Not interested in encouraging begging on the streets, we shooed her away. The girl in question, I still recall was about 3 or 4 feet in height, and I don't remember her face, hence I cannot estimate her age. Nevertheless, we can say that she was a kid.
At the shop, as we were ordering the stuff we needed, this girl appears again. This time, beckoning the pan wala, for a packet of chutki. Now, for those who have never heard about chutki, it is a mouth freshener cum pan masala which many believe contains gutkha (tobacco) as well. I have never had it, hence my idea about it is not clear. Still, when we were kids, it was not considered to be a good thing for children and you can google for more info on that.
Coming back to the main story, me and my friend were bit amused in a sarcastic fashion as to is this why children beg money from us? To have chutki? And that too begging late nights for a packet of chutki? The pan wala told us that the girl was a regular customer of his, and he could not refuse her. She gave him the money, which probably she had gotten from another of the pan wala's customers. Now, I have traveled a lot, by God's grace, and am generally numb to suffering of people. Seen a lot, enough to numb your senses to anyone's plight. Hence we moved on, without giving another thought to the matter.
On our way back, we come across this girl again. This time, she is with a boy, definitely younger to her. Both are sharing the packet of chutki. Me and my friend pass through, discussing how such people would never work hard to make a day's living than to beg and eat such stuff.
Circa, 2010 and I still at times, have recurring memories of that night.
What would have happened to that girl in this big wide World?
Was chutki her dinner that night? Possibly, she had nothing else to eat and chutki was the cheapest alternative available.
How many more such girls would be their across India, begging at nights?
Such are the questions, that at times, just pop up into my mind, while driving or gardening or walking. I brush them aside, such are the ways of life I tell myself and move on with my schedule and routine.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
A paradise lost
She looked over the horizon as the dust settled over the landscape. A speeding army truck had caused the dust to stir into big clouds.
Her stare passed the settling dust to the valley, in which the road passed and disappeared from where she was watching.
He would come definitely.
Her eager eyes swiped from the road to the valley. Most of it was already brown, the green cover removed with a surgical precision.
She felt the pain of the mountain in her heart as it reminded her of some of her bad time, of her helplessness at times.
To distract her mind, she looked down the road again in anticipation of her lover. She had been sitting there since morning, her lips parched with thirst and stomach growling with hunger.
But he had not come. Yet.
A huge sound of explosion shook her off from her seat on the rocks by the side of the road. The dynamite was being used to explode the rocks of the mountain. She had read the board on her way stating a dam being built over the pristine river.
The river. She recalled the promise that they had made to each other. To escape the jealous eyes of the world and build their own world. They had dreamed of a cottage by the side of the river. The mountains with their lush green color would watch their back.
Another roaring blast echoed in her ears and woke her up from her reverie. She stood up; glanced up at the direction of the sounds of blasting and shouted hoarsely"
"This is rape. You all are rapists." Tears swelled her eyes, but her voice continued,
"Yes, rapists you are, you raped the mountains bit by bit, with pleasure in your eyes. And now you are invading its piracy as you do to your women. Rapists. Chauvinists. Just want pleasure, excitement to achieve. To prove your power. Rapists."
Her voice echoed all around but no one seemed to have heard her accusations. The mountains looked down upon her, with sympathy and complete helplessness.
She was so lost and angry as she spoke her mind, that she failed to see a silhouette appearing from the far end of the road.
"Rapists, all you bastards. Hope the electricity does your brain some good." She spat out once more.
As the dusk approached, the blasting stopped. The dark figure came near her and both pair of eyes locked each other in complete shock.
She slapped him hard, at least she tried to, as her swollen red eyes probed his tired brown eyes.
"What took you so long."
And as an answer he pulled her towards himself in a warm embrace.
"There was no bus till tommorow. So I ran, jogged, walked all the way, only to be with you"
Her stare passed the settling dust to the valley, in which the road passed and disappeared from where she was watching.
He would come definitely.
Her eager eyes swiped from the road to the valley. Most of it was already brown, the green cover removed with a surgical precision.
She felt the pain of the mountain in her heart as it reminded her of some of her bad time, of her helplessness at times.
To distract her mind, she looked down the road again in anticipation of her lover. She had been sitting there since morning, her lips parched with thirst and stomach growling with hunger.
But he had not come. Yet.
A huge sound of explosion shook her off from her seat on the rocks by the side of the road. The dynamite was being used to explode the rocks of the mountain. She had read the board on her way stating a dam being built over the pristine river.
The river. She recalled the promise that they had made to each other. To escape the jealous eyes of the world and build their own world. They had dreamed of a cottage by the side of the river. The mountains with their lush green color would watch their back.
Another roaring blast echoed in her ears and woke her up from her reverie. She stood up; glanced up at the direction of the sounds of blasting and shouted hoarsely"
"This is rape. You all are rapists." Tears swelled her eyes, but her voice continued,
"Yes, rapists you are, you raped the mountains bit by bit, with pleasure in your eyes. And now you are invading its piracy as you do to your women. Rapists. Chauvinists. Just want pleasure, excitement to achieve. To prove your power. Rapists."
Her voice echoed all around but no one seemed to have heard her accusations. The mountains looked down upon her, with sympathy and complete helplessness.
She was so lost and angry as she spoke her mind, that she failed to see a silhouette appearing from the far end of the road.
"Rapists, all you bastards. Hope the electricity does your brain some good." She spat out once more.
As the dusk approached, the blasting stopped. The dark figure came near her and both pair of eyes locked each other in complete shock.
She slapped him hard, at least she tried to, as her swollen red eyes probed his tired brown eyes.
"What took you so long."
And as an answer he pulled her towards himself in a warm embrace.
"There was no bus till tommorow. So I ran, jogged, walked all the way, only to be with you"
Sunday, September 12, 2010
To love or Not
He took a deep sigh as he finished the orange juice, the glass of which he had been holding for some time now.
It had been a hectic week at work. He enjoyed stress as an athlete enjoys his warm exercises, how grueling they may be.
But stress is stress. It does take its toll. And a nagging mother never helps.
"You heard the news of the neighbor."
"So and so's son has got married. He gives so much money to her mother."
"I think you don't like me. You don't even take me shopping ever. I am you mother for God's sake."
were some of the other things, she often repeated.
He kept the glass down and went on to log on to his facebook account. His work, entailed extensive use of Social media and he often logged on to his account to overview how things were turning out to be.
Suddenly, his heart gave him a jolt as he read her status message. It expressed love for her lover laced with plenty of hearts and kiss symbols drawn. He closed his eyes for a minute, as to not to allow memories flood into his brain. Then, he went on to check out his business pages and others that he had meant to see. But her image was omnipresent in whatever he was doing.
Finally, after making some notes on his observations to discuss with his team, he proceeded to delete her from his friends list. He fumbled over the pointer for half a minute and postponed his decision yet again.
He went across the empty penthouse and opened up the large French windows. Outside, his eyes swept through the large expanse of the city underneath.
On the road below, he saw a young couple, out on walk, with a dog in toe. They looked poor, certainly were not rich and were arguing about something animatedly. About what, he could not understand, due to the height at he was. Ah! the height. He went on to look down upon the couple as far as his eyes could trace them.
And then, suddenly
He Jumped
It had been a hectic week at work. He enjoyed stress as an athlete enjoys his warm exercises, how grueling they may be.
But stress is stress. It does take its toll. And a nagging mother never helps.
"You heard the news of the neighbor."
"So and so's son has got married. He gives so much money to her mother."
"I think you don't like me. You don't even take me shopping ever. I am you mother for God's sake."
were some of the other things, she often repeated.
He kept the glass down and went on to log on to his facebook account. His work, entailed extensive use of Social media and he often logged on to his account to overview how things were turning out to be.
Suddenly, his heart gave him a jolt as he read her status message. It expressed love for her lover laced with plenty of hearts and kiss symbols drawn. He closed his eyes for a minute, as to not to allow memories flood into his brain. Then, he went on to check out his business pages and others that he had meant to see. But her image was omnipresent in whatever he was doing.
Finally, after making some notes on his observations to discuss with his team, he proceeded to delete her from his friends list. He fumbled over the pointer for half a minute and postponed his decision yet again.
He went across the empty penthouse and opened up the large French windows. Outside, his eyes swept through the large expanse of the city underneath.
On the road below, he saw a young couple, out on walk, with a dog in toe. They looked poor, certainly were not rich and were arguing about something animatedly. About what, he could not understand, due to the height at he was. Ah! the height. He went on to look down upon the couple as far as his eyes could trace them.
And then, suddenly
He Jumped
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Mr. Right
" Mom, I don't think I want to marry him. Am confused."
" Why? He is so handsome and tall too. Just returned from a trip to Europe. He is the ideal man."
"Exactly. He seems so perfect. That is what bothers me. A package too attractive has a high tendency to be bogus. Remember the shoes I picked up from the mall, the other day? They are so very bad. Too much for a branded product."
"But they are such a nice pair of shoes. And he is not exactly perfect. He smokes; drinks alcohol ...
but who doesn't. And he is a womanizer am sure. Don't worry, he is no bogus, nor a saint."
"He drinks way too much. Did you notice his eyes? Too baggy they looked to me."
"Yeah right. Now, those were the good old days of our youth. Men were, discreet, good and responsible. When I saw your father's eyes, all I could see were a pair of soft romantic brown eyes, full of warmth. In our times, we didn't have instant messages and cellular. Otherwise, I would have known that he had guzzled down a full bottle of scotch once he reached from and passed out drunk."
" Dad, still drinks a lot. How do you manage?"
" Ahh! Massage a man's ego and keep it well toned. Recipe for marital success. That is how my mother controlled my father. And that is why, I never object to your father's habits. Come back to the point now. The man is rich. Grab him. I say."
" But again, if I don't like him, then? And Neeraj is still asking me to marry him. Neeraj is cute."
" Neeraj is cute, but has no money. Think of all the shopping you can do with a rich man's wallet. The boy in question spends a lot of time abroad. You can go shopping around the world. Spending his money, on yourself. Now, beat that."
" You know, I can't. I just wish to see the Tiffany's and its diamonds once. For real. Still, what if I get unhappy, say there can be chances of that happening. Or, if he turns out to be demanding?"
" You remember, last week, you had gone to that Indian restaurant? And said it was bad?"
" Yes. But we had to try it once. The food was smelly, but the interiors of the place was awesome."
"Then what did you do?"
" We moved out and at some Italian at another restaurant down the lane. It was great."
"Exactly. You can do the same with marriage."
"What? marry an Italian? If Indian bores me?"
" No, duffer. Move out and try other men. Some guy on TV was babbling that recession is now over. I heard it, when I went to hand over, your dad his drink. No dearth of rich men, my dear."
" Thanks for the wonderful advice mum. I love you so much."
" Nothing for my daughter, but the best.
Until then, we shall not rest."
_________________________________________________
" Why? He is so handsome and tall too. Just returned from a trip to Europe. He is the ideal man."
"Exactly. He seems so perfect. That is what bothers me. A package too attractive has a high tendency to be bogus. Remember the shoes I picked up from the mall, the other day? They are so very bad. Too much for a branded product."
"But they are such a nice pair of shoes. And he is not exactly perfect. He smokes; drinks alcohol ...
but who doesn't. And he is a womanizer am sure. Don't worry, he is no bogus, nor a saint."
"He drinks way too much. Did you notice his eyes? Too baggy they looked to me."
"Yeah right. Now, those were the good old days of our youth. Men were, discreet, good and responsible. When I saw your father's eyes, all I could see were a pair of soft romantic brown eyes, full of warmth. In our times, we didn't have instant messages and cellular. Otherwise, I would have known that he had guzzled down a full bottle of scotch once he reached from and passed out drunk."
" Dad, still drinks a lot. How do you manage?"
" Ahh! Massage a man's ego and keep it well toned. Recipe for marital success. That is how my mother controlled my father. And that is why, I never object to your father's habits. Come back to the point now. The man is rich. Grab him. I say."
" But again, if I don't like him, then? And Neeraj is still asking me to marry him. Neeraj is cute."
" Neeraj is cute, but has no money. Think of all the shopping you can do with a rich man's wallet. The boy in question spends a lot of time abroad. You can go shopping around the world. Spending his money, on yourself. Now, beat that."
" You know, I can't. I just wish to see the Tiffany's and its diamonds once. For real. Still, what if I get unhappy, say there can be chances of that happening. Or, if he turns out to be demanding?"
" You remember, last week, you had gone to that Indian restaurant? And said it was bad?"
" Yes. But we had to try it once. The food was smelly, but the interiors of the place was awesome."
"Then what did you do?"
" We moved out and at some Italian at another restaurant down the lane. It was great."
"Exactly. You can do the same with marriage."
"What? marry an Italian? If Indian bores me?"
" No, duffer. Move out and try other men. Some guy on TV was babbling that recession is now over. I heard it, when I went to hand over, your dad his drink. No dearth of rich men, my dear."
" Thanks for the wonderful advice mum. I love you so much."
" Nothing for my daughter, but the best.
Until then, we shall not rest."
_________________________________________________
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Is you tube the next blogging platform?
Is you tube taking over as a blogging space?
I wonder this, because in past few months I am really enjoying a lot of time on you tube.
And I found that, a lot of experiences that you could write here, or rant about stuff here on our blogs, you can do it on you tube, with more fun and more spice.
People are using their handy cam and video cam and web cams to record while they rant off stuff. Also, at many a times the personal moments, that you could later blog about, can now be video graphed and immediately pulled up on you tube.
So actually, the same thing we do on blogging, we can do now on you tube and more. For, while you are speaking or narrating, you can add up a lot more than you are writing.
But their is a lot of featured or dramatized ranting and story telling too. Balaji telefilms recently launched bol niti bol, a series of videos where a young girl talks about her life.
There are too many English versions of such concepts too. Like lonely girl 15.
One that I really like is the great actor, Shammi Kapoor's channel. Here, in a web series termed Shammi Kapoor Unplugged, the veteran actor, talks about his experiences in a story telling narration. Something akin to may be what we would write on our blogs.
So is you tube all set to change, we the bloggers' lives? I think it shall take some more time, but it will happen one day soon.
Not all of us, are still very comfortable speaking and recording over our webcams. But the coming generation of bloggers shall definitely follow that. That is my view.
What do you think about it? Do pen down your thoughts in the comments section.
Thank you :)
I wonder this, because in past few months I am really enjoying a lot of time on you tube.
And I found that, a lot of experiences that you could write here, or rant about stuff here on our blogs, you can do it on you tube, with more fun and more spice.
People are using their handy cam and video cam and web cams to record while they rant off stuff. Also, at many a times the personal moments, that you could later blog about, can now be video graphed and immediately pulled up on you tube.
So actually, the same thing we do on blogging, we can do now on you tube and more. For, while you are speaking or narrating, you can add up a lot more than you are writing.
But their is a lot of featured or dramatized ranting and story telling too. Balaji telefilms recently launched bol niti bol, a series of videos where a young girl talks about her life.
There are too many English versions of such concepts too. Like lonely girl 15.
One that I really like is the great actor, Shammi Kapoor's channel. Here, in a web series termed Shammi Kapoor Unplugged, the veteran actor, talks about his experiences in a story telling narration. Something akin to may be what we would write on our blogs.
So is you tube all set to change, we the bloggers' lives? I think it shall take some more time, but it will happen one day soon.
Not all of us, are still very comfortable speaking and recording over our webcams. But the coming generation of bloggers shall definitely follow that. That is my view.
What do you think about it? Do pen down your thoughts in the comments section.
Thank you :)
Monday, September 6, 2010
How much do we pay as taxes?
I always believe that a business mind never rests. Even on a holiday. So I spent my Sunday, trying to figure out how much do we pay as taxes in India and what is the ROI (return on investment) of that amount that we are paying.
To cut a long story short, my calculations tell me, that a middle class Indian can pay over 50% of his/ her income in taxes and never even know about it. The return on this investment, can be seen with the standard of living in India and the kind of facilities Indians get.
My maths is bit weak, so I won't indulge in a jumbo bumbo of numbers. Still I can assure you that you lend your Govt about 50% of what you earn.
Taxes are levied by the
Central Government
State Government
Municipal Corporations/ local bodies
All this to make a World class India, with world class highways to cruise on which, incidentally
you need to shell out a toll tax.
Almost everything that you buy, has a tax. It is a heady mix of excise, VAT, customs duties etc etc.
All services rendered come with a burden of a service tax.
Your income is taxed. More you earn, more you got to pay as a punishment for earning more than others.
Then there are so many surcharges, cess, etc etc. which are like additional top ups to a pizza.
Furthermore, as they provide you with street lights, good quality roads and 24 hours water and electricity, a house tax is charged on the property you own in most of the cities in India.
2 broad sectors that are generally excluded from taxes is agriculture and handicrafts. That is local taxes are not charged on them. Then, if you are a very rich business house, then you may get some tax relief, depending on your equation with the political class.
Whether taxes in India are too high or not, depends on what value are you getting in return of the hard earned money you give away as a gift to your dear government. And, on that only and only you can comment.
The United Arab Emirates, has a system of no taxation and they still are building a country that is a delight to watch.
As to other countries, I am not aware of how much they tax their citizens, but I feel,
low or high can only be justified with the level of standard of living of the population.
If taxes are high, and you are getting good facilities than it is ok and vice versa.
So what is your verdict on India. Please do, share in.
To cut a long story short, my calculations tell me, that a middle class Indian can pay over 50% of his/ her income in taxes and never even know about it. The return on this investment, can be seen with the standard of living in India and the kind of facilities Indians get.
My maths is bit weak, so I won't indulge in a jumbo bumbo of numbers. Still I can assure you that you lend your Govt about 50% of what you earn.
Taxes are levied by the
Central Government
State Government
Municipal Corporations/ local bodies
All this to make a World class India, with world class highways to cruise on which, incidentally
you need to shell out a toll tax.
Almost everything that you buy, has a tax. It is a heady mix of excise, VAT, customs duties etc etc.
All services rendered come with a burden of a service tax.
Your income is taxed. More you earn, more you got to pay as a punishment for earning more than others.
Then there are so many surcharges, cess, etc etc. which are like additional top ups to a pizza.
Furthermore, as they provide you with street lights, good quality roads and 24 hours water and electricity, a house tax is charged on the property you own in most of the cities in India.
2 broad sectors that are generally excluded from taxes is agriculture and handicrafts. That is local taxes are not charged on them. Then, if you are a very rich business house, then you may get some tax relief, depending on your equation with the political class.
Whether taxes in India are too high or not, depends on what value are you getting in return of the hard earned money you give away as a gift to your dear government. And, on that only and only you can comment.
The United Arab Emirates, has a system of no taxation and they still are building a country that is a delight to watch.
As to other countries, I am not aware of how much they tax their citizens, but I feel,
low or high can only be justified with the level of standard of living of the population.
If taxes are high, and you are getting good facilities than it is ok and vice versa.
So what is your verdict on India. Please do, share in.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Bachpan Chala Jaye Bachpana na Jaye
बचपन चला जाये |
वोह खिलखिलाहट,
वोह प्यार,
सारे जग मे आज भी बाँट ते चलो |
बचपना न जाये |
वक़्त आ चूका - नादानियां छोड़ दो,
पर शरारतों की नज़ाकत को बचा के रखो |
बचपन जा चूका - मासूमियत को परे करो,
पर बचपन की उस मुसकुराहट को कभी किनारे न करो|
वोह समय बीत गया - जब माँ के हाथ से ही रोटी खाते थे,
माँ के खाने की आज भी तारीफ करो |
जीवन का वोह मोड़ आ चूका - जब माँ का आँचल छोड़ना पड़ेगा,
पर माँ के चरणों से कभी दूर न जाना |
बचपन अब पीचे छूट गया - बाप की समझ अब पुरानी हो चुकी,
पर बाप की नासिहियत की आज भी कदर करो |
बचपन छोड़ आये तुम पीछे - जब बहन को सताया करते थे ,
लेकिन उसकी उतनी ही और उससे भी ज्यादा फ़िकर, आगे भी करते रहो |
वोह पल चले गए - जब भाई के साथ लड़ जाते थे, बात बात पर,
पर यह कभी भूलना न, की उसी भाई के लिए, सारे जग से भी तो लड़ जाया करते थे |
उसी मिटटी मे जिसमें तुम खेले हो,
उस मिटटी को कभी पैसे के साथ मत तोलना |
लम्हे जो चले गए - बहुत सारी यादें दे गए,
भूलना मत उनको, क्यूँकी वहीँ से तो तुम्हारी शुरुवात हुई |
बचपन तो जाना ही था, वोह चले गया |
पर बचपना तो दिल मे बसता है,
उससे समां के रखो, वोह बसा ही रहेगा |
वोह खिलखिलाहट,
वोह प्यार,
सारे जग मे आज भी बाँट ते चलो |
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Feelings on a reunion at School
The other day, a friend informed about reunion happening at our alma mater. The internet is a forest land and in the jungles of Facebook, news was spreading around like a wildfire.
And it was yet another occasion to stop work and feel nostalgic about school life. The good and the bad of it. I always try to look upon the positive side and I feel, if not very happy memories, my school did grant me a lot of knowledge. I learned a lot. And I would be always grateful for the education and knowledge that my School gave me.
But as much I try to push away the not so pleasant memories, a few embarrassing moments, some memories I am uncomfortable with, to date, all these do come back. It is like being aware of the tiny specks of dust on your desk, but you chose to ignore it, feeling you would take care of it, at later stage. Or you wipe clean it, but still it rushes back, the next day.
In the midst of these fuzzy thoughts and unending nostalgia, I see a very obvious question. Should I attend this reunion or not? Perhaps it is best not to arrive at a party where you are the unwanted guest. After all I was never famous or well known amongst my peers. I doubt, whether people their would acknowledge my presence.
On the other hand, what if, certain people may recall the good old days. Life is all about the good small moments. Isn't it. Also, should I not now, go and confront my own demons and erase any signs of insecurity that may be creeping in.
What was your school life like? Was it fun and amazing? Or boring and uninteresting? Do share.
______________________________________________________________
Footnote:-
PS: If you have also attended Sacred Heart Convent Senior Secondary School like me, do note that registration is to happen on 25th and 26th of September. The date for the event is 21st November.
You can also register or gain more details from
http://sacredheartalumni.com
Although the registration on the website is an awfully slow and long process. They are yet to activate my account.
And it was yet another occasion to stop work and feel nostalgic about school life. The good and the bad of it. I always try to look upon the positive side and I feel, if not very happy memories, my school did grant me a lot of knowledge. I learned a lot. And I would be always grateful for the education and knowledge that my School gave me.
But as much I try to push away the not so pleasant memories, a few embarrassing moments, some memories I am uncomfortable with, to date, all these do come back. It is like being aware of the tiny specks of dust on your desk, but you chose to ignore it, feeling you would take care of it, at later stage. Or you wipe clean it, but still it rushes back, the next day.
In the midst of these fuzzy thoughts and unending nostalgia, I see a very obvious question. Should I attend this reunion or not? Perhaps it is best not to arrive at a party where you are the unwanted guest. After all I was never famous or well known amongst my peers. I doubt, whether people their would acknowledge my presence.
On the other hand, what if, certain people may recall the good old days. Life is all about the good small moments. Isn't it. Also, should I not now, go and confront my own demons and erase any signs of insecurity that may be creeping in.
What was your school life like? Was it fun and amazing? Or boring and uninteresting? Do share.
______________________________________________________________
Footnote:-
PS: If you have also attended Sacred Heart Convent Senior Secondary School like me, do note that registration is to happen on 25th and 26th of September. The date for the event is 21st November.
You can also register or gain more details from
http://sacredheartalumni.com
Although the registration on the website is an awfully slow and long process. They are yet to activate my account.
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