Tuesday, February 6, 2024

The Divorce Mills


Fever is a symptom. Nevertheless, a symptom anyone needs to pay attention to. Perhaps an infection post-surgery, maybe something as mild as a prelude to a common cold or a virus that has deep-seated that needs to be uprooted, crushed and destroyed. Like a fever, there is a symptom to warn you when a family breaks or begins to disintegrate; heat... the beginning of unsettling arguments - that perhaps indicates the entry of a 'virus' - a disgusting one, that can often be mistaken for a sales woman at your doorstep offering something that you don't want to buy when you first saw her who soon would enter your family to sell her rotten life-gathered filth and you will soon find a taker from your side, walking past you, to shake hands and make a deal with her. 

Meanwhile, following the Mother-murder-Child Case, even a retard will correlate the presence of Divorce Mills that operate in cities with the network of a sly, evil and third-rate bunch of so called 'professionals' who tempt women into believing that they offer 'life-changing' guidance from legal and psychological angles with their cluster of lawyers and psychologists - to turn their miserable virus-entered life into a magical haven to which the poor, pathetic, sympathetic soul offers itself to be sacrificed in their chambers. Result: Episode after episode of life-changing suffering that may lead to becoming unrecognisable even to herself when she looks at herself in the mirror. A true achievement of the virus indeed.

Virus and Divorce Mills when combined, look for an opportunity, a weakness that makes a woman fly into its closing Trap. A trap that is set knowing the person's weakness. Like a fly that turns itself in when it stoops itself to lick the waste out of a banana leaf thrown at a wedding ceremony. The bait knowing the woman's weakness that is spread by her neue-confidantes, that the woman takes. 

Thus, a combination of a Virus, Divorce Mill and Trap when combined, does give a life-changing experience that the woman asked for filled with gaslighting and justification to dirty-dance to her pseudo-companions' fantasies. Denying herself of a motherhood, she offers herself as an Ayyah to someone else's child. At the end of the day, just like how modern cricket has degraded itself from classic test matches that tested a team's endurance once to 20-20 quickies played today, every person deserves what they desire. 

As far as the story on my side of the wall goes, the children have grown tall :)        

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

The Case Similar



Like many of you, the Suchana Seth Case has gotten my attention too. In fact, it is closely watched as it has a lot of similarity to things that bother me these days. For instance:

1. The outcome of what a bunch of legal manipulators and a so called therapist were capable of achieving at the end of a war kindled between a husband and wife - eventually the death of a child

2. The guiltless detachment outside forces were able to bring about between a mother and child - as if that was an achievement(!)

3. The selfish, self-centered and self-indulging self-absorption of a woman elevated as empowerment and elevation of a woman - that moves her to a quicksand pitted by her for her own drowning

4. The helpless suffering of the child crushed by the ruthlessness of not just the mother... yet by the entire system - legal as well as family - that seems to go under hiding when the lifeless child was lowered into the pit

5. The attempt to play the 'victim card' throughout by the woman in an attempt to stereotype and corner the man even after being caught redhanded with blood dripping from her hands

6. The pattern and template used by the legal team of the murderer that is cut, copied and pasted into every case they handle in their attempt to provide 100% guarantee (as advertised in their portfolios in social media) for separation of spouses is not just funny yet also plain stupid and pathetic when the context, the environment and the strength of the enemy is undermined that is going to whack their face like stepping on a hoe

7. Who will be answering the rest of the questions from the ghost of a child who did not get a chance to wake up from his sleep...

Some mothers try to claim a child as a right they have gained through their womb while others claim it as a right gained through their heart. Gaslighting, as a game played by manipulators to convince women into traps outside the context of reality for their own implicit reasons, is understood by many - and the predictability of such games played by third-rate idiots is not just too boring yet also too easy a deal to be dealt with. Finally, the woman to claim that she was used to play along, when she understands that she is in a tight-corner or a fix, is not to be bought, as the decision to play or not to play or to choose others to play on her behalf, was a decision that she made and that aloof sense of elation needs to be put in its place. 

No person is indispensable - at work and at home - sooner the better if everyone can understand that before it is too late and others move on too. Time and tide wait for none and no one can cross the same river twice and it is wise if a red carpet is respected before it is rolled back in forever. As a man, it is pertinent to remain at peace and refrain from the unreasonable and unrealistic fantasy they try to drown you in; compelling yourself to not become the monster they try to create you into; whilst refusing to be neither the victim nor the perpetrator, the attempts and efforts to remould you into something they want you to be for their own convenience, thus becomes a futile effort - as wasted and useless as their own life. At the end of the day, do you think you are not being watched and have you ever heard the prayers of weeping children(?)       

Wednesday, August 16, 2023

Mother Of Mine

'Mother of mine...' drifted the lyrics of Neil Reid from my son's guitar. A bit stunned by the slow rolling rhythm and the even slower tune that seemed to flow from an even lonelier heart, the ears tried to catch the words that it heard for the first time. 

'Mother of mine when I was young

You showed me the right way things had to be done,

Without your arms where would I be,

Mother sweet mother of mine.' 

...continued the song and there I sat trying to catch a glimpse of my son's drooping eyes. 


For a child abandoned by his mother, to sing the next line, thought he must be really bold: 

'Mother you gave me happiness, much more than words can say,

I thank the Lord that He may bless you, every night and every day.'

Just then, he choked...
'Mother of mine now I am grown and I can walk straight all on my own,
I'd like to give you what you gave to me,
Mother sweet mother of mine...' 

That was when he looked at me and told with teary eyes, 'Don't want to sing this song. It's good but I can't sing this song. It feels like I am singing to her (the mother) this song and I don't want to. I want to sing this song but don't want to for her. I don't want...' 
He dropped his guitar, hugged me and asked, 'Dada, do you think she will be able to take it if I gave  what she gave me(?)'

Those were the times when I had to catch the children and break the fall. As the still face of Mother Mary with the Infant Jesus beamed an unconditional sense of love over us from across the room, as if she was there to listen to this conversation, pointing to the Mother's face carved in wood I told my son, 'There is a Mother to whom you can always sing that song and it will mean a lot to her and to you too...' and he sang.

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

To Love Or To Hate



 
To hate someone, you must have loved them that much… said I, when my daughter asked why she could neither love nor hate a woman we once knew. My son who was listening to this conversation, quietly replied, “I hate her…” and continued, “… cos I loved her that much.” He looked at me like he was searching through me for his soul and said, “Dada, I loved her more than I love you. I truly loved her.” I said I know. He went on to tell me that he would take the liberty to argue with her cos he knew that she would be there when the storm settles too. “It’s that comfort every child has with their mother,” he said and continued, “…now that she has abandoned, left us and doesn’t want to even talk to us, I too want to be reactionless, neither love nor hate her like Rachael and you are able to do; for now, I hate her…” 

It was then that I realized that hate too is a melting ball of sweetness flowing from a hardened heart. 

Looking at an old photo of my son lying on his tummy, I saw the glowing smile in his eyes, the stubborn comfort in the love assured to him and the mischief in his determination to move forward. I felt hopelessly guilty for having taken that from him. He smiles today, yet with no happiness within. The monsters that devoured this happiness off my child hover my sleep as nightmares. Anger, is something that comes as love and hate overlap and betrayal is all the blind can see - a state that I am in now. 

Thursday, May 18, 2023

The Abandoned

 


How does it feel when the one next to you who promised, ‘… till death do us apart’ leaves all of a sudden… 

There are days when I wake up dreaming that she is somewhere in the next room only to realize that a nightmare would be less disappointing. There are times when I would call ‘John’ (my son) as ‘Arun’ (my brother) and ‘Rachael’ (my daughter) as ‘Abitha’ (my sister) - to later realize that deep inside it must have felt orphaned as it feels I am taking care of my siblings instead of my children. There are those moments when I stay awake, stay hungry or stay helplessly in pain not knowing why. 

It is not easy; especially when two kids who meant the world to us, suddenly become the crux of mine. As I try so hard, too hard, to contain the fear, pain, anger, despair and darkness, not wanting to become the demon I am portrayed as, it feels like a rat pushed to a corner and asked not to fight. 

The trauma the children try to hide, to make sure I feel alright, is something they do beyond their tender age that makes me suffer even more. There was a time when John woke up in the morning and blurted out, ‘Five more days…’ and instinctively stopped. I knew he was counting down the days left his mother told she would be back the day he last met her for a few minutes when he begged her not to abandon him again. Yet, everyone else seemed to know that the noose around her was too tight and held by forces too dark for her to see.

Made to hit the core of selfishness in the name of ‘empowerment’, (mis)guided by pseudo-personalities following pseudo-science, manipulated beyond understanding, some people don’t know the traps they have fallen into and the prison they have shut themselves into in the name of seeking freedom. Sometimes we deserve what we desire I suppose. 

Another day, another nightmare, another peep into the last trouble in Pandora’s box, our day will begin as it ends, with disappointment, with subdued emotions and passive expectation… 


Monday, September 14, 2020

The Reason To Say RiP


There are three things one must know before understanding why we say, ‘Rest in Peace’.

1. The word ‘Psyche’ comes from Greek to mean ‘Soul’. When the Greeks couldn’t understand what the ‘life-giving’ essence was lying within the body, they blamed it on the soul – something that cannot be seen, the unknown to fathom. The Psychologists and Neuro Scientists, who emerged in the early 20th century, realized that the reason for our thoughts and behaviour, lies in the functioning of the brain and they moved the psyche to a specific spot within our cranium to represent the functioning of the brain

2. Greek mythology begins with the statement, ‘In the beginning, there was Chaos…’ Interestingly, Chaos was married to Nyx or Night (Darkness) which might find a striking similarity on the figurative running parallel in the Christian world where the reference to Chaos is found in the Bible in the very beginning in Genesis 1:1-2 TLV: In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was chaos and waste, darkness was on the surface of the deep…

What does Chaos actually mean? In English, (literally), it means 'a state of confusion'. Once again like ‘psyche’, the word ‘chaos’ had a different meaning to begin with when the Greeks used it. 'Chaos' to the Greeks meant ‘Nothing’. Man, (let the error rest upon him as the other gender, during those days, were expected to be devoid of thought), perhaps couldn't digest this simple idea of having 'nothing' and began bringing in his own interpretation of the word. 'If there was nothing, how confusing must that be?' he must have thought and sooner or later the word 'chaos' without looking at the etymology, started to mean and was used to refer to anything that was 'in a state of confusion'.

3. Now to Peace... 'peace' is an Anglo-French word that means 'in harmony'; the absence of hostility, in  tranquillity; the absence of disturbance or agitation. 

Our soul or the psyche comes to rest only when the instrument it uses to get everything it wants when it is active - the 'soma' or the 'body' - comes to rest. Real rest; absolute rest; from which it can wake no more - after that eternal drama the body goes through to satisfy every whim and fancy of the psyche to please its senses - that finally ends with death. 

Our epitaphs and tombstones are etched with messages that serve as reminders to those living than those dead and lying beneath. Simply put, their soma finally rests; the psyche rests. The body and soul rests. The chaos in which it rests, is not a confusing dark and mysterious pit where the body and whatever controlled it are laid to rest - in fact, it is nothing - which may be too hard for man to still accept and he may still find it endearing to be confusing. It is liberation; a liberation for the body from the soul and vice versa. For anyone who is struggling to live, to amass every other unnecessity of life, driven by the mind, the psyche, to feed the senses it can reach through the body as the medium; along with the volatility and futility of emotions, the rising and falling of intelligence, greed and over dependence on the cognition to claim the better over the other within and every other fellow being outside, this is a warning written on stone as s/he walks by - ''Rest in Peace'' - in darkness, as nothing, in chaos and at peace.            

Thursday, August 6, 2020

Spiky in My Space

A single sub-microscopic, infectious, non-living, parasitic agent has tethered the very fabric of our society and squeezed the energy out of the world’s best scientists by keeping everyone on their toes by mutating and taking disingenuous forms like a macabre contortionist on steroids during the last couple of months. Now for some gyaan. Interestingly, it is proposed that this ‘covid-19,’ as we fondly call it, is a ‘non-living thing’ that is categorized as a virus and technically, viruses require a host cell to survive long-term - for energy and to reproduce quite unlike the common bacteria which are single-celled, living organisms that have a cell wall and all the components necessary to survive and reproduce (although some may derive energy from other sources). By numbers, if all the 1 × 1031 viruses on Earth were laid end to end, they would stretch for 100 million light years. a unit of astronomical distance equivalent to the distance that light travels in one year, which is 9.4607 × 1012 km (nearly 6 million million miles)... and all it took was just one tiniest of tiny, spiky thing to bring the Earth to a standstill (!)

Further bringing Microbiology in numbers into context to muddle a bit more with our grey, there are 100 million times as many bacteria in the oceans (13 × 1028) as there are stars in the known universe. The rate of viral infection in the oceans stands at 1 × 1023 infections per second and these infections remove 20–40% of all bacterial cells each day. Moving onto dry land, the number of microorganisms in a teaspoon of soil (1 × 109) is the same as the number of humans currently living in Africa. Even more amazingly, dental plaque is so densely packed that a gram will contain approximately 1 × 1011 bacteria, roughly the same number of humans that have ever lived. Not quite so densely packed but impressive all the same, the bacteria present in the average human gut weigh about 1 kilogram, and a human adult will excrete their own weight in faecal bacteria each year. The number of genes contained within this gut flora outnumbers that contained within our own genome 150-fold; even in our genome, 8% of the DNA is derived from remnants of viral genomes.

Perhaps the scariest numbers in microbiology relate to pathogenic microorganisms. Worldwide, 16 million people die from infectious disease every year, while it may be noted that many of these deaths are preventable. Approximately one in every 12 individuals or 500 million people worldwide, is living with chronic viral hepatitis, and the estimated number of new chlamydial infections per year is approximately 50 million, more than the population of South Korea. The bacterium Clostridium botulinum produces a toxin so potent that 3 grams would be enough to kill the population of the United Kingdom and 400 grams would kill everyone on the planet.

In total, there are 1,400 known species of human pathogens (including viruses, bacteria, fungi, protozoa and helminths), and although this may seem like a large number, human pathogens account for much less than 1% of the total number of microbial species on the planet. On this point, ignoring questions about what actually constitutes a species, estimates for the total number of microbial species vary wildly, from as low as 120,000 to tens of millions and higher. Part of the reason for this large range is that we have only sequenced 1 × 10−22% of the total DNA on Earth (although the Earth Microbiome Project should improve this dramatically to 1 × 10−20% in the next 3 years). This means that the fraction of microbial diversity that we have sampled to date is effectively zero, a nice abstract entity to end on... and to realize that popular brands of disinfectants and sanitizers claim to kill “99.9%” of germs is nothing short of a joke that you can laugh off in leisure or visualize a trillion germs having a good laugh at you as you try to squeeze the last drop of living hell out of the plastic bottle of your favourite hand sanitizer. (This doesn't mean that we stop using sanitizers or scrubbing our floors and hands with disinfectants and soap as these practices when followed, will still kill 99.9% of the germs - covid (henceforth through this document referred to as, 'spiky') being one among them on the hit-list.)

But… despite the terror and horror obtruded, the lifeless spiky seems to have made some long-pending changes that seemed impossible by other more living being for long. Take for instance, the ways we tried to promote a ‘swachh Bharat’ – except for pictures of dirty brooms in the hands of our elected representatives sweeping clean roads with picture perfect smile to be featured preferably on the front page or at least in some remote corner above an obituary in page 3, there was nothing much of ‘swachh’ that we got to see with people still trying to clean up walls and sidewalks with their uncontrollable need to urinate and those who had to chew, spew and spit their paan or that quickly churned sputum orchestrated with the most beastly grunt that can give the wildest, filthiest pig a run for its money – almost anywhere, everywhere and at any time. Then comes spiky… and all of a sudden, through conscience or for the fear of the fine and penalty or the policeman’s lathi marking its presence in the rear, zippers and mouths seem to have gotten magically fastened. And suddenly, as though magical, no more spitting, no more urinating, no more stench and no more spray painting of human excreta emitted through any outlet at every (un)imaginable space. Not just a ‘swachh Bharat’ but a ‘swachh Earth’ it seemed to have become with better civic responsibility.

With lockdowns, containment zones, self-isolations and quarantining happening at every nook and corner of Earth, there were lesser vehicles, lesser industrial effluence and thus, lesser emission. The skies became clearer, the water became purer and the guys who said that Pluto was not a planet (?!), also said that the long abused ozone layer was now self-healing. People were beginning to sight more wildlife trotting concrete jungles – open and free – as we stayed caged in the (dis)comforts of our urban spaces staring at artificial landscapes.

Politicians and religious leaders exposed their true colours distancing themselves from people when they could have seized this opportunity to be close with the masses or perhaps the ‘aam admi’ began seeing through their pretentious and hippocratic cloak. With no religious institution to visit or coffer to fill, savings seem to be better and disposable income higher as humanity raised when people began to see the suffering of those around and realized the true meaning of giving to those in need who were near.

Big, fat Indian weddings were replaced with simpler and more meaningful weddings; eating outside reduced as people turned to eating more delicious and healthier home-made food; demand for locally-grown produce rose as packaged corporate food and consumables started to rot in the boxes they came in – with lesser exports, people started to see and taste first class food which otherwise our farmers and fishermen found fit to be served only for their unseen consumers overseas.      

In the absence of vaccines and a trustable cure available from allopathy, homeopathy or sabapathy, people seemed to rely on eating healthy and staying fit to build their immunity – a wiser choice perhaps that no ‘Fit India’ campaign could achieve so far.

Corona seems to be taking the blame too – like a seasoned wife or a ‘good’ husband, people have found an easy way out to blame the poor spiky for everything. Why did the start-up (that never took off) fail? Corona! Why did the politician not win the election? Corona! Why did the financial policies get laughed at? Corona! Why did economies fail? Corona! Why did the cat meow? Corona! Why did the maid try to fly on the broom? Yes, of course, Corona! After all, everyone knows the poor non-living thing will dare not utter a word in defence (just like the ‘good’ husband.)

In the kingdom of education, for years I have been witnessing how the Teacher has been pleading with the student to attempt a teeny-weeny bit of self-studying – the proposal in an attempt to put the Greek model into action where the interest and motivation to study must be an intrinsic factor that must raise the much preferred enthusiasm and curiosity to know, understand and grow which makes learning a process continuum. Never happened. Higher education bodies have been asking Teachers who thought that teaching was all about giving uninterrupted lectures at a ring of a bell from pulpits of power, dumping buckets of undigested curd from their head to the other(s) – without passing through either - and pulling out notes from their files like the legendary Mary Poppins in a desperate attempt to compensate their lack of being able to make education interesting at the end of the day (wonder why…); now, not by choice or chance, people must give up these stunts and try being a facilitator, a trainer instead. With our new friend spiky coming into the picture, automatically there is a paradigm shift; most online teaching is about facilitating and most self-motivated learning from home is research-based and we get to see knowledge being controlled in classes more than behaviour. Finally higher education bodies seem to have achieved this great feat through spiky – something that they have not been able to despite diplomatic pleading so far. Viola!

With small scale industries whose businesses run on fundamentally following the economic advice of optimal utilization of available resources quite sincerely by utilizing not just their raw materials yet also their human resources to its maximum and beyond – at times even beyond what the watchful eyes of justice can see – in workhouses and behind closed shutters where bonded and child labourers remained oppressed by clout and by crooks. Enter spiky; shutters were up and the roads wide open for many of the migrant labourers and their families to return home – liberated and free.   

Talking about bonded labourers, family bonds seem to have been strengthened with forced confinement; broken families got a chance to come together and couples who had decided to part ways have got a second chance to rethink or affirm their decision with conviction. If not for spiky, wouldn’t we have been just one more face in the crowd watching the world pass by for reasons no one had time to stop or think – for what? And why?

With that left for reflection for later, right now, Bon Jovi’s song buzzes across my head as I hum my version (in brackets) behind my mask…

‘’This ain't a (virus) for the broken-hearted
No silent prayer for the faith-departed
I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd
You're gonna hear my voice
When I shout it out loud

It's my life…
It's now or never
(this lockdown can’t go on) forever
I just want to live while I'm alive

My heart is like an open highway
Like (spiky) said
I did it my way
I just want to live while I'm alive
It's my life.”

Thursday, September 19, 2019

Don't Give Love A Bad Name


A few days back, my eight-year old son thrust his i-pod and head-phones and said, “Dada, listen; I think you will remove some songs from this.” When I asked him what was wrong, he insisted that I listen to understand. I listened. Wow! It was then that I realized... recently, my boy has been trying to learn and understand the different genres in music and to differentiate between the pops from the rocks, heavy metals from death metals, country from reggae, folk from rap and so on... he has been at it and has been engrossed exploring any music he can find, categorizing them, memorizing the lyrics and attempting to ape them in his guitar. Then there it was, the few songs he was doubtful about... Eminem, 50 cents, Slick Rick and others rapping and shouting out loud words like “FCuk”, “Sex”, “Sh1t” etc.,. What surprised me were not those words yet that my son had understood what they meant.
It would be easy for a crowd to blame it on the fault of the uncensored media or even the open and unrestricted availability of content or even at parents like me who leave children unattended in the name of giving them “the space”. Yet, trust me, no child is going to be ignorant for long and every child is going to grow up to understand the meaning of these and many such words that will make them parents one day.
Today, when my son stands with the guts that it takes to stand square and declare to me, ‘Hey Dad, these are words that I understand, what are you going to do about it?’ I can like any common sacrosanct, self-righteous, hypocritical scoundrel either tell him that those are “dirty” words and that he must have nothing to do with it and create an image of disgust and make him feel guilty and ashamed of anything having to do with procreation and successfully accomplish making him a hypocritical scoundrel as well OR as I decided to do, hand over the music device and coolly tell him that now that he knew what those words meant I trust that he would know why and when he should or shouldn’t be using them and that I would not be deleting them and it was up to him to decide whether he wants to listen or not listen to those songs. His eye widened with surprise, as that was definitely not what he expected to hear and he whistled a song and walked away a little older. Kids will be kids and I am so glad my son and I had this little conversation.
Is sex such a dirty thing that we end up making everyone feel so guilty about it? 

Thursday, August 1, 2019

The Idea Of Plenty

Fear of fear gives courage. 
As we age, we encounter many things, people and situations that come with it no matter how far we try to avoid any of these that affect us.
One of man’s deadliest fears is to have to die alone. Death is a stunner at the end of a platform called life that keeps moving no matter how much you try to avoid. When it is time to go, it is time to go yet the things we do and the length we go to retain a few around us!
And in between this error called life, where we get to meet these strange people no matter how much we try to avoid, we end up facing, craving and fighting over those worthless things we claim to adore and land in situations that don’t appeal a bit just so that we build this pseudo-reality to pedal consumerism - in both the material and immaterial worlds we create around us, not sparing relationships too caught in between. Then there are these things called fate, luck, blessings, curses and the rest of such uncertainties that we feel runs and ruins us to which we grant all acclaim with such certainty.
Those necessities and these unnecessities of life of which people talk about endlessly! Often people talk a lot about what they lack rather than what they do have. People generally are silent when they are full; it is of course the empty vessels that make the loudest noise when they move. There is a person I meet at the gym who talks in length and lavishly exaggerates about the quantity and quality of food - detailing everything right from its preparation to its consumption; quite sadly, food both in quantity and quality is what this poor bloke rarely gets yet craves for.
Age too is a merciless shadow that never departs until our body remains. A thing that I realize these days is that as one ages, s/he feels that age is a defense for them to get away with anything they speak or do – even things that may be considered cheap, boring and/or offensive otherwise. Aging not only makes one cranky yet also becomes an excuse for being cranky which makes them understandably, acceptably and comfortably cranky often for no reason whatsoever. Perhaps as anger is a luxury that only the rich can afford, crankiness is a state of mind only the elderly can claim and retain.
Amidst all these worthless pursuits and endless circuits, while wishing to find some meaning and purpose in life, the search only seems to end gloriously in gaining nothing at the end of it.
“Nothing”?! Then what about all the inventions and discoveries that we glorify? Those pages and pages we write, read and sing, those countless thoughts and memories we try to collect and store and those relationships we try to gather and treasure – would they become ‘nothing’ in an instant? What about those images we treasure (?) those poems and paintings we imagine and that prose and photo we capture with delight? How about those boring, endless talks with those parasitic people and the boredom that follows that we manage to conceal with our fake smiles and unwilling nods – wishing they would stop as you begin to realize that they have just begun. What about all those occasions when we could have lifted the Oscar with our ability to act to convince that others matter when deep inside, both kith and kin, they don’t matter at all? The truth that we seek, when everything we see, hear or feel is just a comforting lie that tries to make us feel that everything around us is eternal and everyone immortal while “I” of all the fakes around, agree too, faking with all my might as I should for making the idea of plenty a comforting thought for all to believe. If a prize or an award be given for the biggest fake of all, first in line shall I be as I fold all my fingers but one and pray that all of us deserve to ‘go forth and multiply’ as the good God wanted us to. 
Cowards live when they fear death.      

Monday, June 24, 2019

Holy Frauds

Have you watched colleges and universities getting slammed recently?
It all started with a question, "How can the degrees offered to students be valid if the syllabus they study is being prepared by ineligible teachers at the time of appointment (those who have not cleared NET or SET nor have a PhD before 2009 as the policies demand), the syllabus is later unapproved by the University while the same ineligible teachers go on to teach the same unapproved syllabus, who go further on to set questions and evaluate the papers... how on Earth can the degrees of the students coming through such an institution even desire to deserve an University degree... why must Universities consider it obligatory to provide a degree after so much of violations?" 
Now the Departments and Ministry in charge for higher education have taken note of these incidents and are taking stringent steps to curtail this loophole in appointments especially seen in autonomous institutions and some frivolous educational institutions functioning on mountain tops basking for cover to be protected as 'minority' institutions as soon as they come under the radar for their scrupulous attempt to commit as many academic and financial violations and frauds as possible that are recently being exposed and uncovered. The media too, is clever, closely watching and reporting these issues. State departments in charge of higher (collegiate) education, are taking measures to snip these snakes which have escaped the snare so far. 
Recently while talking to a Vice Chancellor who addressed a bunch of catholic priests, said during the address that it was time that the priests stop educating students after appointing their kith and kin and fellows who bend their backs in their parish in the name of some fantasy quota or the other and it was time for the priests to get re-educated about the changing world around them and learn that they are obligated to follow policies of higher education in the country. This VC, I told, hit the nail right and proper in the head by passing this message to a crowd that needed it the most, since most of the educational institutions still operating and still committing these unmentionable frauds in India are sadly the so-called "Christian" institutions; to which he mentioned that now he has the priests fuming at him rather than accept the case and learn their lesson. 
It is not often unheard of about some colleges run merely for the heck of collecting fees and fines - swindling students and parents without missing an opportunity, colleges that run that provide marks in exchange for 'little favours' expected from students without assessments - just because these institutions now have exams under their control in the name of autonomy, appointment of ineligible teachers, running of bogus Research Centers ordered to be closed long ago still functioning with ineligible guides, stealing government grants given to researchers and to teachers undertaking research, stealing public money in the name of organizing programs that never are organized, approving and facilitating plagiarism to just create an illusion of carrying on academic undertakings and countless other cheap tricks that seem to come off the hat of only these kinds - and would you believe that all these can happen in just one educational institution supposedly run by Christian priests? Perhaps it wouldn't be that hard to believe this since these kinds have been exposed quite frequently and are in the NEWS quite often for rape, child abuse, murder and everything that can deemed fit to keep a third-rated criminal in confinement and far away from society. 
It is time to teach. Teach lessons often unheard. Time to teach a few lessons to these fellows I suppose. And I am at it.

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