Mission Driven Life

I am on a mission. There is too much inequality and injustice in this world. Why should some privileged individuals keep on having a wonderful time while others suffer in ignominy? I envy all the carefree, cheerful, happy-go-lucky people in this world. My only mission in life is to make them as miserable as folks in my situation are.

Oscar Wilde had suggested a long time ago, “Bachelors should be heavily taxed. It is not fair that some men should be happier than others.” And if they are not ready to pay the extra tax, I suggest that the government should make marrying compulsory after a certain age. Their revelry cannot go on forever.

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(I have been in introspection mode for the past few days. What is life, but a series of complicated relationships? The one I’m in love with is in love with someone else. And see the irony, he wants me to convey his message to his inamorata. Here I have been singing love songs for Awesome bin Laden for so many years, and he seems to have fallen for someone who might not even care for his feelings. What follows is a letter he wanted me to publish.)

Arundhati Rao amid Maoist

Praise be to Allah who created the creation for His worship and commanded them to be just and permitted the wronged ones to retaliate against the oppressor in kind. Peace be upon he who follows the guidance.

Arundhati Roy, oh the glorious one! The erudite, the intellectual, the courageous one, you are like a clear stream flowing through a pristine jungle, like a piece of divine music played on an oud, like a jannat ki hoor on a mission on this earth. I like, I like. All praise is due to Allah.

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(Update: This article is selected for Tejaswee Rao Blogging Awards)

Sania Miza

Hello there, people of Pakistan, do not grieve. Think this way—you are not losing a son, rather gaining a daughter. We understand the mental agony and helplessness people undergo when a son gets married. Especially, when he is unreasonably enamored of his new wife and her family, leaving the parents, siblings, and cousins in the lurch. But do not be disheartened, his crush will eventually fade, and then he will once again be the same old Shoaiby Baby of yesteryears. After all blood is thicker than water of the River Musi.

Actually, I was trying to hide my disappointment by saying all that, but, damn, it’s spilling from all directions, making it impossible for me to maintain the façade. How could you Sania? How could you betray the country that showered love, adulation, Arjuna Award, and above all Padma Shri on you? How could you fall in love with a Paki?

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IPL: Indian Premier League

(This article is a satire on IPL Cricket matches that took place in India. If you want to know about the game, read the Wikipedia entry on Cricket.)

For the past few days, I have been baffled by the declining traffic on this blog. A friend told me that this could be because of the IPL, a new type of cricket competition, taking place in India, and that the whole country was engrossed in watching the game on TV, claiming that it was better than the saas-bahu serials. She said that even the movie industry was expecting a slump of Rs 10 crore because of it. All that sounded strange to me, so I decided to check up with my cricket-stricken family in India to learn more about this insidious enemy.

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