Stupidity is never a handicap in Politics

Raju Korti
Propagating a thought process or promoting political views on a social networking site comes with its ancillary risks. Not that there is anything wrong in it but I have long since realized the abiding futility of engaging myself in raging debates that are seldom conclusive and nobody is none the wiser. In the end -- if there is any -- nothing changes and no one who is a fierce participant cedes an inch for reasons ranging from personal ego to political steadfastness. It is just some steam let off and maybe some brownie points scored on each side.
Political conviction is an individual belief and choice. It is more often than not bereft of objectivity which again is left to personal interpretation. But having spent decades in the Media and watched political personalities and events unfold in the most unexpected and quirkiest of ways, it has come to my perceptive comprehension that politics only divides people and makes them self-righteous. Those two create crevasses that are bridged only in expedient circumstances. Politics per se may not be fickle, but politicians and their loyalist admirers are.
I studiously avoid taking part in political discourses which degenerate into nasty altercations at the drop of a hat. With a few exceptions -- that only prove the rule -- most end up in bitterness and break in friendships. There is of course no disputing an individual's understanding of political issues as no one is any less informed.
There is a certain vulnerability at the bottom-line of this considered belief that some "ism" or "logy" is superior than others. The internet teems with trolls who sow seeds of discord by posting inflammatory statuses provoking "friends" into an emotional response. And then all hell breaks lose with cuss words and profanity in spate. The "friend" whose status you "liked" barely a minute ago becomes a persona non grata in your estimate in much lesser time.
For instance, the debates on Modi (and his 'bhakts'), 'AAPtards', 'sickulars", leftists, rightists, right of centrists and what have you, come without an expiry date. "Pheku" Modi's extravagant pinstripes, Kejriwal's matching extravagant manifesto, the decline of Gandhis, the virtues or otherwise of secularism and the pre-meditated hypothesis that womanhood alone should be respected (and by default men be despised) guarantee you an endless slang match. Even if granted that debates are a healthy sign of democracy, the results are not. The much trumpeted Freedom of Speech and Expression is itself a subject of nasty debate. I recall a Washington Post journalist once telling me "freedom of Press, whatever that means, is freedom of the Press." I guess it applies to all those who tempestuously advocate their political thinking on the social network.
I am well aware that my not subscribing to any particular political thought process is also open to fierce criticism but that puts me at a distinct advantage. Being unattached allows me to train my guns with objective crosswires though at times I am also sniped at by "friends" for being pro or anti something at that juncture.
Let me cap this with a small story. Once a prince, soon to be crowned as king, sets out on world tour to gain some experience in administration. Tired, in the night he decides to halt in a jungle. When he is fast asleep, a cobra emerges from the nearby furrow and is thrilled to find someone it could bite. Meanwhile another cobra emerges and feels the same way. There ensues a fight between the two on who will bite the prince first. Hearing the two quarrel, the prince wakes up and kills both with his sword.
Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies. I would rather be a prince on wisdom tour than a cobra fighting for a bite. Politics, they say, is the second oldest profession but it also bears a striking resemblance to the first. Now don't pan me for this. Hope you are all "liberal" enough to take this in your stride. 
    

Protection so divine!

Raju Korti
Doing a business without advertising is like winking at a girl in the dark. You know what you are doing but no one else does. So, be in the face. That seems to have become the working philosophy in these blatantly commercial times. I have no clue in heaven or hell nor a meter to gauge how much advertising is good advertising and where you draw the line. But in this complex maze of incalculable consumerism there is little doubting the overwhelming effect advertising has on not only the gullible of the likes of me but also those who have fine-tuned the art of seeing something genius gone into the making of even an utterly pedestrian advertisement. So each time the hairy brawns of a John Abraham or Arjun Rampal stare at me while they plough a razor on their facial wasteland and a petite young thing walks in at the precise minute to caress their feather-smooth cheeks, I am stung with the intensity of a mosquito bite. The reality doesn't seem to sink in that even my one and only wife of antique value of twenty-five years is nowhere around, let alone stroke my obstinate and ever-growing stubble.
Almost four decades of driving heavy-duty bikes like the BSA American, Bullet and Java may have held out their indescribable charms for me but your thrill is tempered when you know the only lady riding the pillion is your better(!) half constantly poking alerts about the vehicles you must to dodge to reach home in single piece.
Having spent donkey's years in the Media, it took decades for me to realize that advertising is only meant to create an anxiety that can be relieved by purchase. Lighter the pocket, lighter the anxiety! Often, the after-effects of advertising would raise my anxiety levels enough to miss the elementary fact that marketing is what you do when your product is no good. That, I thought, was a small consolation in the times when one has to sell oneself to survive the cut-throatism that obtains today.
Of course, I am not so visually impaired as to be carried away by the advertisement blitzkriegs that dot the Media these days. In my moments of sanity, which are few and far between, I am confronted by the excesses committed through visual scandals and outrageous sales lines that go into the making of advertisements. Advertising is the master-key that unlocks the wallets and handbags of all. No one is spared.
I do not know the rules of advertising grammar or glamour. If you are trying to persuade people to do something or buy something, it seems to me that using their language pays. Watch the dedicated slots given to the consumer products across television channels through tele-advertising beyond midnight. They have honed the skills to draw customers without resorting to any of the optical shame or scurrilous small talk passed off -- and justified -- in the name of copywriting. Better still, they dish out more excitement than most other channels that swear by wholesome entertainment.
I have spent sleepless nights -- watching with nothing but unvarnished admiration -- wonder gels that grow hair on your bald pate faster than the Congress grass or seaweed, liquid perfumes that draw people (read women) to you like iron filings do to magnet, vegetable cutters that slice and dice vegetables in shapes and sizes an artist cannot think of and lucky charms that turn your world Technicolor and all-fulfilling the minute you wear them around your neck.
Two of them have particularly caught my fancy. One is the Hanuman Chalisa Surakshayantra which is being promoted by Bharat's biggest Brand Ambassador Manoj Kumar. Of course, Mr Bharat doesn't do any talking since he knows by experience that it will only ruin the product. So it is left to ACP Pradyuman Shivaji Satam who takes time off his busy investigation schedule to wax eloquent on the potency of this "gold-plated" contraption even as a bald man speaks about the greatness of Lord Hanuman like there is no tomorrow or no other God to stand competition. Manoj Kumar just sits through with a poker face that we all have come to be acclimatized with in his unduly long acting career.
With the Hanuman Surakshayantra making such a divine impression, can the Allah Locket be far behind? This one has a bevvy of beauties with marble-smooth cheeks telling you how the locket has changed their dreadful lives 360 degrees. And then, they also warn you about the fakes abounding the market! It is as if the Jannat has descended down on Mother Earth. But this is done so convincingly that you forget Hey Bhagwan and Haye Allah.
The "victims" in these endorsements are more real than real. Your heart bleeds for the bald men who stop short of weeping their embarrassment out; or those who have lost their fortune in some business; or women who sweat in liters cutting those vegetables. And having summoned your indiscretion, comes the catch-line. "So what are you waiting for? Nikaliye apna credit card aur aaj hi order kijiye."
In my case, the line has drawn a blank only because my bank balance is not as strong as any of these products. If only it were not my fledgling fortunes, I would have been the most protected man with a Nazar Suraksha Kawach, Hanuman Yantra, Allah Locket (Yes, I am secular when it comes to my own interests) and all other potions, devices, gadgets and gizmos to make me a He Man and the Master of Universe.
Let me confess. For quite some time, I have been wanting to buy a Kuber Yantra. I am also waiting for a Jesus Amulet. Kuber is believed to be the God of Wealth. The only problem is I have no money to buy one. When you have less money, you have more sense, but who needs sense these days?