Idhar Udhar Ki Baat

  “Pure shit!” That was my mentor's verdict after reading the first ten pages of my first novel's manuscript. It hurt. I had spent months writing it. I had hoped for praise, perhaps a few corrections. Instead, I had received a literary court-martial. I summoned my courage. “Sir, at least tell me why.” “First, your vocabulary. Why use words that send the reader reaching for a dictionary? Are you writing a novel or conducting an English examination?” He had a point. Somewhere during my education, I had acquired the belief that difficult words made a man appear learned. Apparently, I had mistaken vocabulary for wisdom. “Second, your sentences are too long. By the time the reader reaches the end, he has forgotten the beginning.” “But, Sir, I am trying to explain everything.” “Have you ever tried filling a spoon under a fast-running tap?” “Yes, Sir.” “What happens?” “Most of the water spills.” “Exactly! Your sentences are the tap. The reader's mind is t...

     “Always run to the target and check your score. Never let anyone carry your rifle or rucksack unless you are injured. And when you rise in rank, open your own car door.”      That was Subedar Diwan Singh , an old soldier from my native place, giving me advice I would remember for life.      “Dada ji, why all these precautions?” He smiled. “As you rise in rank, people will compete to make your life comfortable. Someone will carry your rifle. Someone will open your door. Someone will laugh at your jokes, however poor. And someone will praise your shooting even when you have missed the target!” “That sounds rather pleasant,” I said. “Of course! That is why it is dangerous.” He leaned forward. “The day you stop checking your target, you will start believing their lies. The day you stop carrying your load, you will forget its weight. And the day you allow others to think for you, you will lose your judgment.” He paused. “R...

“Brigadier, what made your country so advanced in warfare?” asked the Presiding Judge. “My Lord, it began twenty years ago, during the Iran–US war.” The courtroom fell silent. “That war taught us two things. We had the national will to fight a powerful enemy. But if we competed in buying bigger military toys, our treasury would empty before his armoury.” “Toys?” asked the Defence Minister. “Tanks, guns, aircraft, ships, missiles. Every generation wants something bigger, faster and costlier.” “What changed?” “Drones. The sky became full of them. Like mosquitoes.” Justice Coconut instinctively slapped his neck. “Everybody wanted anti-drone weapons. Guns, missiles, even drones to kill drones. Unfortunately, the mosquito was often cheaper than the bullet.” “So you jammed them?” “We tried. But the same spectrum supported civilian communications, commerce and essential services.” “What did you do?” “Something extraordinary happened. Our politicians started thinking....

  Not very long ago, beside a very important sea, there was a very large desert. Three animals lived there: a rich Camel, sitting on more oil than water. A proud Persian Leopard , whose spots never changed. And a Fox , smaller than everybody else, but with sharp teeth and an even sharper brain. For years, the Camel and the Leopard fought each other. And the Fox slept peacefully. Then, one morning in March 2023, the Fox looked out and saw the Leopard was drinking tea with the Camel. A Panda had invited them both to Beijing , poured the tea himself, and made them shake hands. The Fox rang up his oldest friend, the Eagle across the ocean. “We have a problem. The Leopard has made peace.” There was a long pause. “Isn’t peace a good thing?” “Today the Leopard drinks tea with the Camel. Tomorrow the others will join them. And one day, they will make your dollars worthless.” The Eagle stopped smiling. Seven months later, on 7 October 2023, a Mongoose living just across the Fox’s fence at...