Commonwealth Games Went Uncommon
Last year, this time I was in consensus with Derek O’Brien about CWG. Both we and like-minded people thought there should not be raised so much hue and cry centring the CWG (Cause explained by O'Brien in Bengali Daily ‘Anandabazar Patrika's’ scheduled column link) and almost reluctantly I wrote an essay and gathered a lot of the same entitled ‘Is Delhi Ready for CWG’ in UPSC website’s monthly essay competition. After that much time passed by letting the ‘time’ to suck much time than ever before. More days went out only by swamping the continuous feeds from the ‘media’ and garnering them in my slow-oxidizing stomach. But I was forcibly confining them and tried to digest almost all. My pen felt unrest to jot down my digestive chronicles but was dissuaded only due to my utter reluctance. Then the provided limit was crossed, unwittingly. The grotesque experience jettisoned. They made me puke my thoughts in form of words. It’s real that the squalid output was rotten much before they should be dust-binned. So pardon me if it smells so obnoxious, as obvious. But I hope the Indians are already acclimatized enough to dwell in this kind of ‘hygienic standards’ and so I may be pardoned by their automated virtue of this sort.
Do you know why I love Mr. Kalmadi so much? Do you know why I expressed this love publicly? Perhaps not. Because I was ‘jilted’. The media played the role of real ‘media’ to induce the secret, concealed, untold tryst between us. And it must be. From the time immemorial the 3rd person always wins estranging the so called friendship between the former duo. So happened to me too. Now, I express my fathomless love to Kalmadi by continuously hating him. I loved him just because I didn’t want to miss any episode from my life depriving me self of loving such a special species of mankind that can ever exist beyond one’s normal imagination.
Sometimes, I wonder why India is still democratic. ‘Dance of Democracy’ is now prancing ablaze out of vehement non-accustomedness caught by neo-public-money-fire and blistering us, the mass, with intolerable but tolerated twinge, breaking the tolerance level,-- silenced, tacitly presumed. But as a modest representative from the common Indian folk, my skin is not still much tanned like that of Kalmadi where purely slang condemnation gets slanged itself (ahem! ashamed), caustic assault shielded, reflected even bullshit gets ricocheted. He is the definitive stature of flickering and fleeting truth of India. He is bestowed by such a miraculous and imperishable supremacy that he could eventually turn the so-called bridge-breaking accident into a 'common natural phenomenon’, even stultifying it unto a nonentity. After all it’s ‘Common’-Wealth-Games and Kalmadi constantly exploited that very term being so much incumbent to its etymology. Marauding exponentially is all common and so for to be marauded too.
So the question evidently spring up why the ‘common’ has gone ‘uncommon’. Oh! It’s very easy one. Perhaps you already surmised it. After all, we the Indians are blatantly uncommon, who watch the entire spectacle elastically enough with their two eyes like nincompoops closing the third eye mandated. So are ‘they’ (Games Bosses) but differentiating from the others in a subtle way. Their inclination to the ‘uncommon curve’ is too steep not to make their thoughts going as tangent over the aliens’ head. Actually they couldn’t make their foreign guests understand that the beetle-spit stain on the walls of Games Village is nothing but a new kind of painting style ingeniously invented by the so called ‘native Indians’. What a five and a half star facility the Games hosts are ready to provide the athletes in the village! Starting from water and fixture-less toilets down to innumerable stray-dogs roving inside the villages in order to make them pets for the athletes and to sleep with them in their bed – all is finely tuned up (the rest half star for the stray dogs for a test rehearsal by chasing Mr. Fennell convincing him the village to be a kennel). They regret very much for their inability to arrange smooth-furred dogs by so many in numbers from Shimla or Darjeeling because it will surely hike the cost in the hand-to-mouth OC’s family where games paraphernalia costing Rs. 10 are hired for 100 bucks, where a single music-track claims 5 crore for being super-flop by public. Blame goes not to them but to our respective perspectives similar to Mr. Lalit Bhanot’s concept of ‘differential western and Indian hygiene standards’ due to those very different outlooks.
Are we Indian? Certainly not. We haven’t shown up enough ‘jingoism’ to be worthy of ‘It’. What a formidable shame on us! So CM Sheila Dixit exclaims that she never saw people criticizing their own country so actively. But how she forgot that the reforming people are doing that by their legal as well democratic right for the betterment of our country. Oh! I forgot. Not she. What is democracy? It got so much exploited and sucked by the corrupt Games Bosses like their own mummy’s tits and we got fed with perpetually perverted, poised, sorry, ‘moulded’ perception of democracy and egalitarianism that shouldn’t expect us to do this.
But there are still some persons who are not freelancing with this ebbing nature of drift as sought. Accidents happen too for unbesoughts pose to co-exist. Why were not they, exclusively Kalmadi not garlanded with polished bullshit-shoes made of the desiccated flesh of the slaughtered dogs from Village premises? Why he doesn’t belong to Saudi Arabia where stringent executable laws are still prevalent to teach these culprits a befitting lesson, unlike the lenient, procrastinating Indian constitutional system, by aid of which he can apply and re-re-reapply for bail (if any case lodged against him!!) and can live a free, happy life up to his scheduled exodus for hell sufficed by the frugally legal processing period, ‘more exposed than the cleavage of Rakhi Sawant’ (by Jhunjhunwala's article) or hanky-clad Mallika Sherawat .
Beneath the ostensible drape of the vague size and shapeless bamboozlement, Indian Govt. are opting the ‘policy of sufficient 'silk-sophistication' as silky as well smooth like Cadburry Dairy Milk ads. (attention deficit syndrome) and as suave as well soft like Baby Johnson’s products. They are also doing it in order to enhance the inchoation of this sanctified and auspicious event relishing robbed-of-public fruits blended with politically coloured (asian-painted) die of clandestine but known-to-all gambling unlike the embalmed and extra-interspersed chocolate through the watering mouth. Such type of their placidity and stereotype nature passively crafted the subtle promotion of marauders under the musk of leader-cum-wellfareship, more or less collectively.
The corrupt games-officials alias the heinous criminal with gargantuan itching-palm with public money to make India spineless by plundering it and its image as subterfuge should be banished by kicking and sweeping into the abyss of Pacific ocean or to the dungeons of unknown, secluded Himalayan cliff. Overall, they are the grotesque hostility to our nation in the deceitful name of hospitality. We really forgot when and how, solely cataleptic, we become the proletariat-reformers, apparently, instead of that ‘God-heads’ who are deployed in the real prescient portfolio to swag the ‘national ornament’.
Still think, it will not offend you much if you calmly shut it down and not open the bag to bare the so-long captive cat under the poised lime-light. After all, you approach an author to pay heed to his viewpoints but not to find correspondence with your notion . Finally you can see the official CWG portal and blogs like mine in the vast blogosphere aptly criticizing them. Why did this ‘vulnerable’ polarization take place between the mass-media and Hon-Her-Able games bosses with the passage of time? It’s left for your exploration. After all we bloggers can do the best by indoctrinating ourselves with ‘Pen is mightier than sword’.
Again I say, give ‘time’ some more ‘time’ and ‘times’; wait hours for many a cat is yet to be unbagged to unearth the furtive squalor of ‘Uncommon CWG’ flagship under broad-day-light. Added to this, of course, you ought to chance the time once more, even twice or thrice for it being INDIA; our indian time is almost equivalent to that of the supreme creator Brahma, where one year is equivalent to one sec!!
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