Israel has bombed Lebanon for the 17th consecutive day. And no wonder the Marxists, Leftists and a few other regional parties are already raising a hue and cry against this punitive action. Their logic is "it is a disproportionate response to the abduction of one Israeli soldier" !
Does this reflect a sense of callousness on the importance of a life of a soldier on India's part and does this by any way explain why India is almost always at the receiving end of any unjust offensive action and that time and again the perpetrators go scott-free and come back to haunt us ? I would think so.
Consider this. Israel's retaliation can be looked upon in two ways. I think, it sends out a very strong message. It says "We dare you. You take one of us, we will take 100 of yours". That is how a country should respond when its soldiers are being abducted. There is no question of being defensive. And the question of proportionality does not arise. For Israel, the life of one of its citizens is important, valuable and their actions have only reinforced that. Unlike us, Indians, callous in our attitude, defensive in our demeanour, afraid to stand up and hit back when we are being hit, willing to go by the 'books' - be politically correct.
For what ?
A country does not have friends, it only has interests. That's the way the game is played. That's the way India should look. So instead of criticizing Israel and clamouring for international sanctions against them, let us unapologetically applaud that nation - a nation so small it cannot find itself on the map, for standing up for their countrymen.
The other point of international debate is that the bombs are being targeted at civilians. Now, what would you do if you knew that those civilians whom all are so concerned about shelter rockets and terrorists ? Is there a difference between people who harbour terrorists and those who actually do it ? Are they any less of a culprit ? If the civilians of a country choose to stealthily adopt such practices, then there should not be any furore when their homes are bombed.
But, as in any conflict there will always be a substantial number of innocent people who would be affected. This is no different. That is the futility of war.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
My Kind Of Woman
Suddenly,like a bolt from blue, today I remembered my grandmother. The incredible lady that she was, I was just thinking whether I would ever find a woman like that. And more importantly, if I were to find such a lady, would I like to have her in my life. Paradoxically, the answer is no.
There are two reasons for it.
My grandmother was someone who would be happy with whatever you gave her, in fact, even if you had nothing to give she would not complain. Even for a moment. I find that absolutely revolting and inexplicable.She found that natural. I still remember her working relentlessly from five in the morning (err...those were different days when I woke up early !) and after a tiring day full of household chores would promise to play Ludo with us - three of her grandchildren. We would wait expectantly for the exciting post-lunch Ludo sessions. And not once, not once were we disappointed. Imagine, around twenty-five odd people to be looked after and not a grimace on her face. Happy and contended.
Now, how do I make a woman of that kind happy ? If I were to get someone of that nature in my life, I would think that it would be a great injustice to her. Frankly, I have nothing to offer to her that can contribute to her happiness. It implies that irrespective of my existence she would be happy ? Its too preposterous to believe that I may be the cause of that happiness. These people are seldom swayed by anything material. They are the columns on which rests the entire structure of a family. Now that I am old enough to understand some of the nuances of what 'expectation' is, what constitutes 'happiness', what we have to do to have a fulfiling life, I have this irresistible urge to ask her what made her happy. I am not quite sure that I would have had a concrete answer.
Some questions bother me. Always. And just the moment I think I figured out the answer, there would be a twist in the offing which would make all previous calculations redundant (sounds hopelessly like one of those Fin problems!) The perennial question that bothers me still is "What kind of woman would I want to live with"
The proverbial answer is "I don't know" (I think my dear friend SRK would be happy to see that finally an MBA has the guts to say this !) I am too easily bored, too easily irritated, too frivolous to be anchored, too attracted by other women(I discovered pretty late that I actually fall in love with every woman that I interact with!). Its impossible for me to love anyone over a long period of time. I am just not cut out that way. I find very little to speak about anything - am too lazy. Sometimes I don't even find a reason. And when someone keeps on talking when I am not in the mood, I am turned off. Just switched off. Instantly. All of this - they are the recipe for a perfectly cacophonous co-existence.
But, the only thing that keeps me ticking is an intellectually challenging conversation. If by a stroke of luck, I happen to meet someone who has that elusive streak, who would not really cave in - on the face of it, give it back to me as and when required and yet respond with passion, then it would be exhilarating. And I doubt, in fact, I am sure, that someone of my grandmother's nature would ever offer me that.
Somehow, I sort of understand what Souvik meant when he said "I am scared....of myself" !
There are two reasons for it.
My grandmother was someone who would be happy with whatever you gave her, in fact, even if you had nothing to give she would not complain. Even for a moment. I find that absolutely revolting and inexplicable.She found that natural. I still remember her working relentlessly from five in the morning (err...those were different days when I woke up early !) and after a tiring day full of household chores would promise to play Ludo with us - three of her grandchildren. We would wait expectantly for the exciting post-lunch Ludo sessions. And not once, not once were we disappointed. Imagine, around twenty-five odd people to be looked after and not a grimace on her face. Happy and contended.
Now, how do I make a woman of that kind happy ? If I were to get someone of that nature in my life, I would think that it would be a great injustice to her. Frankly, I have nothing to offer to her that can contribute to her happiness. It implies that irrespective of my existence she would be happy ? Its too preposterous to believe that I may be the cause of that happiness. These people are seldom swayed by anything material. They are the columns on which rests the entire structure of a family. Now that I am old enough to understand some of the nuances of what 'expectation' is, what constitutes 'happiness', what we have to do to have a fulfiling life, I have this irresistible urge to ask her what made her happy. I am not quite sure that I would have had a concrete answer.
Some questions bother me. Always. And just the moment I think I figured out the answer, there would be a twist in the offing which would make all previous calculations redundant (sounds hopelessly like one of those Fin problems!) The perennial question that bothers me still is "What kind of woman would I want to live with"
The proverbial answer is "I don't know" (I think my dear friend SRK would be happy to see that finally an MBA has the guts to say this !) I am too easily bored, too easily irritated, too frivolous to be anchored, too attracted by other women(I discovered pretty late that I actually fall in love with every woman that I interact with!). Its impossible for me to love anyone over a long period of time. I am just not cut out that way. I find very little to speak about anything - am too lazy. Sometimes I don't even find a reason. And when someone keeps on talking when I am not in the mood, I am turned off. Just switched off. Instantly. All of this - they are the recipe for a perfectly cacophonous co-existence.
But, the only thing that keeps me ticking is an intellectually challenging conversation. If by a stroke of luck, I happen to meet someone who has that elusive streak, who would not really cave in - on the face of it, give it back to me as and when required and yet respond with passion, then it would be exhilarating. And I doubt, in fact, I am sure, that someone of my grandmother's nature would ever offer me that.
Somehow, I sort of understand what Souvik meant when he said "I am scared....of myself" !
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