THE only line that makes or breaks the lifeline of your journey is the line that you would like to tell your son or daughter—‘go this way, and not the other way’.
What that line indicating the path you choose for yourself and for your children could be?
The line of compromises and the second track spineless dialogues on the body bags of our soldiers?
Or the line of uncompromising dedication to the motherland that guides to differentiate between a friend and a foe?
When the butchers were killing our sons guarding the frontiers at minus twenty degree centigrade, we were clamoring to play cricket with the killers and announcing as the third rate liars that the ancestors we feel proud about came from Pakistan.
The reader punctured the lie and told, hey the hero, your father came to India when India was just India the united one and Pakistan was not even created.
The article was taken off the blog immediately.
That’s the transparent objectivity of the seculars celebrating a festival of apartheid in the city of Ghulam rulers the Man Singhs. First they kowtowed before Akbar, against Rana Pratap, then they paid sovereigns to the British and now exclude the tribe of the un-yielding Marathas, unlike the sugar factory barons who became the Janpath courtiers.
Who are the soldiers and who are the cricketers? The cricketers are peace loving people from Mars and the soldiers are mercenaries from Bharat? The players love social harmony and their ancestors come from Pakistan, and soldiers are hard boiled violent hate group who hail from Dehradun and Aizawl? The Gaana-Bazaana tribe of Jaipur fest belongs to the harmony raga and the Siachin sentinels belong to Shylocks?
So if a graduate from Indian Military Academy is killed by the neighbour, the cricket with the neighbour must just go on in the name of a third party God of the seculars? We love peace, at any cost, even if our fellow citizens are raped and maimed and killed and forced to ‘marry’ their daughters at five thousand rupees a girl (Prerna Kaul tells it all).
The soldiers join the forces for the sake of money. The perks and perhaps izzat too. We join Bollywood and Cricket for the sake of world peace, and no commercial interests. Hence soldiers must be off listed and we be decorated with medals.
The one who may ask why no Bharat Ratna has been ever given to a soldier and even an entertainer with suspicious stories and a faith convertor were declared gems of the nation, must be declared a communal, a frustrated soul and a war mongeror. Soldiers live and die for money. Politicians live and die for the welfare of the people. ‘Hence Bharat Ratna must always go to the politician.
Good joke?
You may get off listed from Padma awards like Anant Pai has been off listed for the last seven years, that I know. The man who revolutionised the comic story scene in India, married the great revolutionary Congressman’s daughter from Sind, spent his life to spread all the goodness that India represents going from one Convent school to another Gandhi College, from Ladakh to Kanyakumari and Nagaland to Okha, never had a lobbyist in Delhi, hence the creator of the legendary Amar Chitra Katha never got a Padma award.
That’s Delhi, treacherous, backstabber and de-Indianised.
Hence the clamour to play cricket with Pakistan. Play cricket with those who have never condemned the gun totters who killed our brother soldiers and citizen fellows.
They never lamented or felt sorry having gobbled our two third Kashmir and creating an RDX ridden atmosphere forcing five lakhs of our blood brothers and sisters to leave their homes.
Play cricket, I love Pakistani. Give me another Padma award? They play cricket, appear in commercials, talk peace and embrace the killers of our soldiers, and become highest earning sportsmen. Have affairs with the most sensuous sirens of the Bollywood. They get fees even to visit Jawans on the border posts. It’s Bizniss my dear. Jawans, who fight for India, go to the spine chilling posts, die for the tricolour and get eight hundred rupees per annum pension.
Seventy rupees per month pension for a soldier who or whose widow gets a gallantry award from the supreme commander of the nation i.e. the President. That’s India. The land of the civilised and the patriot.
Go; see the Handbook of the Pay and Allowances-Gallantry Awards of the Indian Armed Forces. And a Param Vir Chakra winner would get a mere three thousand rupees per month ‘monetary allowance.’ A brave heart who gets mentioned in the dispatches would earn fifty rupees per annum from a state, as was in vogue till recently.
Pray what’s the difference between the mother of a SRK, a PC or a Vikram Batra? Or a Hari Ram, nayak subedar or a Abdul Rahman, the signal man?
Those standing with Batra’s mother won’t say IPL should be condemned for not buying Pakistanis, but others have no problem shedding tears watching Pakistanis were out.
