To Be or to BJP...That is the Question

I find the political blowup in India about Sanjay Gandhi's son Varun running for election under the BJP banner quite amusing. For those of you who don't know the history behind the issue, it's somewhat of a soap opera, and quite entertaining.

Essentially, Varun Gandhi belongs to the Nehru/Gandhi (no relation to the Mahatma) family, the first-family of Indian politics who has governed the country (in one way or another) for most of the past 60 years through the Congress Party. Here's where the drama seeps into the story. Indira Gandhi, Nehru's daughter and India's Prime Minister during the 1970s and 1980s (until she was assassinated), had two sons: Sanjay and Rajiv. Sanjay was the eldest, and thus the next-in-line to the Indian throne (Prime Ministership). He was also actively involved in politics - and even led a vasectomy and sterilization campaign during 'The Emergency.' Rajiv got married first though - and brought his Italian wife (Sonia) to the family home. When Sanjay got married, Rajiv and Sonia already had a son - Rahul - and Sonia was already established as The Daughter-in-Law in the Gandhi household. Obviously, Sanjay and Menaka (his wife) were jealous.

The problems started now, including fights between Sonia and Menaka for power in the household. And then one day, Sanjay died in a plane accident, and Rajiv came into the limelight - and became Prime Minister. The younger son, became the Prime Minister and the Menaka and her kid(s) were shunted out of the political light. But not for long.

Menaka joined the BJP - the Congress' arch-enemy - and contested parliamentary seats in the same region as Rajiv. Rajiv was eventually assassinated, and like the dutiful daughter-in-law that she is, Sonia took up the political mantle and became the leader of the Congress Party. Today's Indian government, although presided over by Manmohan Singh, is still run with her 'best wishes.' Sonia's children, Rahul and Priyanka, have also made forays into the political sphere - and with the Indian elections in sight (polling starts in less than a month), all eyes are on the Gandhi kids.

Here's where more trouble starts. Varun Gandhi (Sanjay and Menaka's son) has refused to run for the Congress (not sure if he was ever asked to - I doubt it though) and is instead running for the BJP (the Congress' enemy, like I said). There is a massive uproar in India about a son from the Gandhi/Nehru household joining the ranks of the Hindu Nationalist (and possibly pseudo-fascist) BJP [keep in mind that the BJP is an offshoot of the RSS, an organization that was banned by Nehru for its complicity in Mahatma Gandhi's assassination].

To be completely honest, I think the uproar is unfair. Yes, the BJP can be a fear-mongering party at times, but it is largely restrained by its desire to win a sizeable number of parliamentary seats. Obviously, like any other political party in the world, it cannot run on a platform that would alienate a large number of people. If Varun Gandhi truly believes in the BJP's policies, then why not let him run for the party? Stop the smear campaign against him - just because he was born into the Gandhi family, doesn't mean he has to do everything that Aunty/Chachi Sonia tells him to do.

India prides itself on being the world's largest democracy - it's time it lived up to that title.

(apologies for the long post and if it doesn't make sense...)

Sense-less Post

My city has been reborn. It died earlier this week (it snowed - at least it's still March, and not April like last year) - which was natural and expected (to be born again, first you must die) - but I'm excited with this rebirth, as it brings promises of much greatness and happiness to come in the following weeks.

This week has been fabulous. I've worked like maniac, but things are finally starting to come together. Wounds are being healed slowly but surely, and I can finally see the changes. Thank-you. The Journal is off to the printers - so EXCITED! - and I get to see the final, bound version tomorrow. Three papers to write, a project to do, four final exams - the application - and then I'm done. Counting down. 36 days to go.

Back to music...

Tid-Bit

I'm currently in the process of figuring out a paper topic for my intrastate security studies course, and (because I'm not allowed to write anything South-Asia specific for my other PoliSci classes) I've decided to write about conflict in India. I know very little about the Naxalites, and was fascinated by Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisi, so I think I'll probably end up writing about them.

Anyway, so I was on the Indian Home Ministry's site (a horrible site that needs to be updated and that needs live links) and came across the guidelines for India's flag. I'm not surprised by the following piece of information, given India's history - but it was something I didn't know.

The National Flag of India shall be made of hand spun and hand woven wool/cotton/silk khadi bunting.

I wonder what Gandhiji would say to that...According to Munna, he'd probably be upset and would call on the Indian population to look at the reasons behind symbols, and not to deal with them at face value.

Self-Gloating

Now if you've followed my RFS journey for a while, you'll know I do this very rarely - self-gloating that is; however, my brilliance in the little while leaves me with no other choice but to carry-out this act of self-promotion.

You see dear readers, I was right, and I have empirical proof of my veracity (GRE word - beware - once you study them, they appear everywhere!). In a previous post, I wrote about how I'd noticed a certain fat-chested crow sidling up to another one. With my amazing intellect and perception skills, I conjectured that it was mating season.

A couple days ago, I saw a very small crow - one that was obviously very young; and thus my friends, I can conclude that it was indeed crow mating season in mid-November.

And now I'll go and get my Nobel Prize for Ornithology, thank-you very much!

Arziyan - Delhi-6

Another masterpiece from the team of Prasoon Joshi and A.R Rahman!

Arziyan

Arziyaan saari main, chahere pe likh ke aayaa huun,

Tum se kya maangu main, tum khud hi samajhlo maula,

Maula maula mere maula.

Maula maula maula mere maula,

Maula maula maula maula,

Daraarein daraarein hain maathe pe maula,

Marammat muqaddar ki kardo maula, mere maula.


Tere dar pe jhuka huun, miTaa huun, banaa huun,

Marammat muqaddar ki kardo maula.


Jo bhi tere dar aayaa, jhukne jo sar aayaa,

Mastiyaan piie sab ko jhuumtaa nazar aaya;

Pyaasein leke aayaa thaa dariyaa woh bhar laayaa,

Nuur ki baarish mein bhiigtaa satar aayaa.


Maula maula maula mere maula,

Maula maula maula maula.

Daraarein daraarein hain maathe pe maula,

Marammat muqaddar ki kardo maula, mere maula.

Jo bhi tere dar aayaa, jhukne jo sar aayaa,

mastiyaan piie sab ko jhuumta nazar aayaa.

Ho ek khushbuu aati thi,

Ho ek khushbuu aati thi, main bhaTaktaa jaataa thaa,

Reshamii si maayaa (?) bhi aur main thaktaa jaataa tham.

Jab teri gali aayaa, sach kabhi nazar aayaa,

Mujh mein hi woh khushbuu thi, jisse tu ne milvaayaa.

Maula maula maula mere maula,

Maula maula maula maula.

Daraarein daraarein hain maathe pe maula,

Marammat muqaddar ki kardo maula, mere maula.

TuuTke bikharnaa mujhko zaruur aataa hai,

Par na ibaadat ka shahuur aataa hai (?).

Sajde mein rehene do, ab kahiin na jaaungaa,

Ab jo tumne Thukraayaa to savar na paaungaa.

Maula maula maula mere maula,

Maula maula maula maula.

Daraarein daraarein hain maathe pe maula,

Marammat muqaddar ki kardo maula, mere maula.

Sar uThaake maine to kitnii khwaahishein ki thi,

Kitne khwaab dekhe the, kitnii koshishein ki thi.

Jab tu ruubaruu aayaa,

Jab tu ruubaruu aaya, nazarein na milaa paayaa,

Sar jhukaake ek pal mein,

Sar jhukaake ek pal mein, maine kyaa nahiin paayaa.


Maula maula maula mere maula,

Maula maula maula maula.

Mora piyaa ghar aayaa mora piyaa ghar aayaa (x6)

Maula maula maula mere maula,

Maula maula maula maula.

Mere maula maula maula maula,

Mere maula.

My Beautiful Star

The twinkle in your eyes has disappeared, replaced by complete blackness, as if something has died inside you.

But you will live again and twinkle brighter than before. Have hope my beautiful star.

EEEK

I never knew I could be so stressed I would have trouble falling asleep at night. It's actually quite amusing, if you're one of those people that can laugh at yourself (which it seems I am). I'm entering my last semester of my B.A program and am going crazy. Well, that is, going crazy internally. On the outside, I'm as cool as one can be. I know what I need to do, and I'm doing it. But as soon as the sun sets (plus a few hours because the sun has been falling asleep at 4:30pm these days), I get jittery. Finishing my work well in advance of the time I used to finish it at (let's hope this lasts), I go up to bed, and lo and behold, toss and turn for a couple of hours. Eventually, I manage to fall asleep - only to be jolted awake by a dream (not a nightmare - at least not yet) a few hours later. This continues until around 6:30am, at which time I fall into a relatively deep slumber, only to be unceremoniously kicked out of a dreamless (and thus very peaceful) sleep by the dreaded alarm clock.

Is there a solution to these crazy nerves? Well, to be honest, not really. Unless you count finishing your graduate school application quickly and prodding the admissions committee for a quick response, acing your GRE, and staying on top of things in all your classes - there's really not much I can do. That being said, I am the type of person who thrives on having a sword pointed at my neck - so who knows, maybe this pressure's good for me and I'll live to tell the tale.

And if not, Selfistan can tell it for me - well most of it that is...