My little nephew, barely 18 month old was playing around my sofa, trying to slurp his hidden tooth, when his ever thirsty sight inadvertently fell on the elusive TV Remote. In a matter of seconds, that TV remote was all he wanted. It looked as if a Lokmanya Tilak had awakened inside him for he was moving as if repeating, "The Remote is my Birthright...and I shall have it". Like an unstoppable cloud he kept on trying to move around me to reach that remote, trying everything in his limit to get around the seemingly gigantic Mount Everest that stood in front him. Even his primary weapon, "The Stare of Innocence", failed to work as I was determined not to let this poor defenseless unarmed TV remote be mercilessly tortured and have itself dismembered and dragged around before being thrown into a Lake of Pee. 18 months, and that little boy was already an expert at warfare - He called in his allies with his SOS (which is a monotonous signal which any ally could Comprehend-Respond-You, also called C.R.Y): He freaking cried. I had lost. His allies pounded me with their brutal assault. Within moments, the Mount Everest had collapsed, within seconds the cries silenced and within minutes the Remote was in The Lake of Pee.
The whole evening we (including the little boy, his allies, and me) were forced to watch a frivolously shouting and aimlessly blabbering Arnab Goswami who was repeating "MrSanjayJhaMrSanjayJhaMrSanjayJha " (yes, No Spaces) and Mr Sanjay Jha repeating "ArnabArnab Arnab" endlessly as if they were both being paid to say the other person's name. Never mind. We all deserve this. We've all tortured Mother Nature and its Environment so bad, it was bound to throw back at us at least one Arnab Goswami and one Sanjay Jha. The only person, however, who was enjoying that sight with his full-hearted and selfless egoless and interestingly breakless laugh was also the reason we weren't able to change the channel. In 18 months, the little boy trying to slurp his hidden tooth had changed that so called super-prime-time-firing-debate into Tellytubbies.
I had no choice but to awaken the Engineer in me. Yes, that was perhaps the only time I got to show off my engineering skills. Before you imagine anything..No, I didn't repair that TV Remote. I rushed to the cablewala and bought a new remote. Exactly what Engineering had taught me, "When the going gets tough...buy a new car" (RTMNU - By Rashtrasant Tukdoji Maharaj, Vol 3 Verse 3:16). I returned to a champion welcome, took all the accolades, gave an angry stare to that hidden tooth boy, and walked like Jason Statham. I soon realized that Jason Statham generally walks like that when some new car is about to blow up behind him. The new car did blow up. I, the Engineer, the Champion Engineer, the Opportunist, the perfectionist, had forgot to buy batteries. I tried to use the old ones and what followed was exactly the kind of an Engineer I was...A mix of Arnab Goswami, Arvind Kejriwal and Pikachu: All words, no show, and yellow.
My last attempt somehow helped me go ahead by one channel. So now were all watching BBC. And what that channel showed, moved me. I, with an 18 month old baby on my lap, was watching young injured barely 18 month old babies and kids being carried away by their wailing fathers in Gaza. There was no noise in those images and yet they were a blow to my mind. There was no shrapnel in that video and yet it had pierced through my heart. I was staring at a child, as old as the one on my lap, being faced with an assault of the most brutal kind. For a kid so small, there is no country, no policy and no religion. For a kid so small, there is never an Arnab Goswami or Sanjay Jha, no ceasefire nor treaty. For a child so small, there is no war. His only weapon is his innocence, and his only bullet is his stare.
Within moments, we were all staring at the sheer luck that we were on the other side of the Mount Everest but one which could collapse any moment. Within moments we were all staring at the sheer helplessness of Engineers like me in trying to stop real cars from blowing up in real markets. While we all were staring at the harshest form of reality that BBC showed....within moments it was all over...I had Lost again...for within moments the new remote was in The Lake of Pee.
The whole evening we (including the little boy, his allies, and me) were forced to watch a frivolously shouting and aimlessly blabbering Arnab Goswami who was repeating "MrSanjayJhaMrSanjayJhaMrSanjayJha " (yes, No Spaces) and Mr Sanjay Jha repeating "ArnabArnab Arnab" endlessly as if they were both being paid to say the other person's name. Never mind. We all deserve this. We've all tortured Mother Nature and its Environment so bad, it was bound to throw back at us at least one Arnab Goswami and one Sanjay Jha. The only person, however, who was enjoying that sight with his full-hearted and selfless egoless and interestingly breakless laugh was also the reason we weren't able to change the channel. In 18 months, the little boy trying to slurp his hidden tooth had changed that so called super-prime-time-firing-debate into Tellytubbies.
I had no choice but to awaken the Engineer in me. Yes, that was perhaps the only time I got to show off my engineering skills. Before you imagine anything..No, I didn't repair that TV Remote. I rushed to the cablewala and bought a new remote. Exactly what Engineering had taught me, "When the going gets tough...buy a new car" (RTMNU - By Rashtrasant Tukdoji Maharaj, Vol 3 Verse 3:16). I returned to a champion welcome, took all the accolades, gave an angry stare to that hidden tooth boy, and walked like Jason Statham. I soon realized that Jason Statham generally walks like that when some new car is about to blow up behind him. The new car did blow up. I, the Engineer, the Champion Engineer, the Opportunist, the perfectionist, had forgot to buy batteries. I tried to use the old ones and what followed was exactly the kind of an Engineer I was...A mix of Arnab Goswami, Arvind Kejriwal and Pikachu: All words, no show, and yellow.
My last attempt somehow helped me go ahead by one channel. So now were all watching BBC. And what that channel showed, moved me. I, with an 18 month old baby on my lap, was watching young injured barely 18 month old babies and kids being carried away by their wailing fathers in Gaza. There was no noise in those images and yet they were a blow to my mind. There was no shrapnel in that video and yet it had pierced through my heart. I was staring at a child, as old as the one on my lap, being faced with an assault of the most brutal kind. For a kid so small, there is no country, no policy and no religion. For a kid so small, there is never an Arnab Goswami or Sanjay Jha, no ceasefire nor treaty. For a child so small, there is no war. His only weapon is his innocence, and his only bullet is his stare.
Within moments, we were all staring at the sheer luck that we were on the other side of the Mount Everest but one which could collapse any moment. Within moments we were all staring at the sheer helplessness of Engineers like me in trying to stop real cars from blowing up in real markets. While we all were staring at the harshest form of reality that BBC showed....within moments it was all over...I had Lost again...for within moments the new remote was in The Lake of Pee.
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