Bad leaders are the best that masses of rather poor quality can throw up. This is true of government — whether it is a democratic polity or an autocratic dispensation. It is also true of other institutions and of corporate enterprise. So, when we see our government, and its key uniformed appendage, as well as well-intentioned NGOs indulging in a “Peace at all costs” drive with a country that the nation has hitherto been told is its greatest enemy, we must believe that this is now what is best for us. Leaders tend to be of venerable years and, by virtue of having seen it all and having been everywhere, their vision is wider, their experience greater, and their judgment wiser. Today we see them short of breath as they must be at this ripe old age, hurtling down the war-free road, climbing mountains of peace, and lighting peace lanterns, inhalers in hand to protect against injurious fumes. Having taken all factors into account, it appears that they are now trying their darnedest because of the fear that lest they breast the tape ahead of the hirsute warmongers, the nation could stand completely exposed. Particularly, they are loath to let affairs come to such a pass as to allow the old enemy to set its eyes on our younger generation, and thereby be encouraged in its nefarious designs upon us.
It appears that our younger generation has taken a nonchalant approach to many a serious thing, which may not be just their own fault
The present generation, defeated culturally by Sonia Gandhi, is likely to meet the news of enemy troops poised at the gates in the manner of Sir Francis Drake, unmoved and completing the games at hand — manic gyration, assumed hilarity and the intake of great quantities of food and drink. Where, at the final whistle, Drake turned his attention to the enemy’s machinations, this lot is likely to board its low interests cars, and meander off groggily in the opposite direction. The fault is not entirely that of a collective curved and discoloured spine. This generation has been encouraged to live life to the hilt, free birds, carefree and careless, disregarding the rights of others, trampling upon them where possible and assuming greater rights for themselves. The more the money that their parents have amassed, the lesser the social responsibility that divests upon the progeny.
Chill rakho, cool, masti, thund — these are the words that have entered the vernacular in the last five years. When the naughty among our rank and file begin to atone for their sins, this ever so cool generation is likely to give literal meaning to the expression, “When hell freezes over”. The new generation is constantly being encouraged to eat food and imbibe beverages and take part in entertainment that will make them mast. In the most dire of situations, unwilling and unable to face the consequences and fearful of exposure, they chill out. Life, it appears, is a cavalier thund programme in which half clad females of dubious proportions beckon pimpled teenagers of equally dubious masculinity, and unshaven and unkempt layabouts apparently epitomize the aspirations of the female membership of the chilled out club.
Club rules are strict. Immediate expulsion if members succumb to sleep before three in the morning or open either eyelid before noon the next day. Failure to reproduce every jerk, thrust, wiggle or fluttering eyelid from the entire dance routine of the latest Hindi film condemns the offender to the Old Boys (and Girls) Club immediately. Upon encountering a fellow member it is incumbent upon the beholder and the beheld to cause a traffic jam by screeching to a stop in the middle of the road exchanging high-fives, speaking barely recognizable English with an American accent, and singing off by saying, “cool”. On public holidays members are duty-bound to clog up the main thoroughfares, driving at ever decreasing speeds, their vehicles moving to the beat of the latest Indian song blaring out at no latest than 120 decibels on internal speakers themselves the size of a small car. Rookie members must remove the exhausts from their two wheelers and drive only on one wheel, saving the tread on the back wheel for a rainy day. At lest rookies must be sacrificed to Bacchus on each such occasion.
Many in the national leadership look hopelessly upon the antics of this generation and redouble their efforts to buy a swift peace at all costs, ere the thund programme and the mass chilling settle into a new Ice Age, or the strictly mast diet renders us all dopey and groovy, wearing welcoming smiles and vacant expressions in all circumstances. The less pessimistic, however, point out that German failure in WWII stemmed from the freezing reception that the Panzer Divisions encountered at Leningrad, and that an enemy casting its beady eye on the land of the pure would flounder in similar fashion when faced with our thund programme and the notoriously cool 18-30 national cohort. Enemy soldiers, daring to surprise us in the dead of night, they say, would scamper back to the relative warmth of the icy slopes of Siachen when faced with a defence composed of chilled out young things streaming out of parties at that hour.
There is, of course, another school of thought that ventures to suggest that all the signs point to an entire generation that feels helpless and useless. A generation that believes that it can attain nothing, no proper schooling, no jobs, no justice. Homes and land to build them upon are priced out of its reach, it has no access to affordable entertainment. This generation has learned that it cannot acquire a say in the country affairs, its politics or its direction. When the rich become richer, when the corrupt are not accountable, when the leadership is answerable to no one, then what else is there that one can do but keep cool and lose oneself in one’s own mast dream world.
Bad leaders are the best that masses of rather poor quality can throw up. This is true of government — whether it is a democratic polity or an autocratic dispensation. It is also true of other institutions and of corporate enterprise. So, when we see our government, and its key uniformed appendage, as well as well-intentioned NGOs indulging in a “Peace at all costs” drive with a country that the nation has hitherto been told is its greatest enemy, we must believe that this is now what is best for us. Leaders tend to be of venerable years and, by virtue of having seen it all and having been everywhere, their vision is wider, their experience greater, and their judgment wiser. Today we see them short of breath as they must be at this ripe old age, hurtling down the war-free road, climbing mountains of peace, and lighting peace lanterns, inhalers in hand to protect against injurious fumes. Having taken all factors into account, it appears that they are now trying their darnedest because of the fear that lest they breast the tape ahead of the hirsute warmongers, the nation could stand completely exposed. Particularly, they are loath to let affairs come to such a pass as to allow the old enemy to set its eyes on our younger generation, and thereby be encouraged in its nefarious designs upon us.
