Rambodoc at large

Up in Heaven, Lord Vishnu wanted to see what his young Indian devotees were growing into. The Great One could not see anything because the exhaust from the buses and cabs was billowing under the stairway to Heaven, hindering vision.
His spy, Narada, came down to India to find out how the youths were doing and what they were planning for the future.
Narada spent some time in the country, and sent his report to the Creator.
“At the outset Lord, let me tell you that Lord Yama, our Lord of Death, is marketing big time here! His name is mentioned in TV and newspaper ads—it seems he has made a mini-chariot for the youth, called Yama-ha. Can you believe his cheek?
Anyway, the youth is what you sent me for, right, my Lord? The majority of youth wants the job of a cricketer called Sourav Ganguly. This job gives fame and job security—it seems they fire you 3 years late, to give you time to plan your retirement. 43% of boys wanted to be Sourav because they would still have a place off Park Street to park their Merc chariots and get overpriced oily food for free.
Lord, I want to be this person, too!
73% of youths said an honorable exit policy was important to their jobs. Equally important, they said, was an honorable entry policy. They demanded 50% job quotas for various scheduled, disadvantaged classes. An additional 30% reservation was considered mandatory for the un-scheduled, disadvantaged classes, presumably including the persons born out of French letters prematurely failing their warranties. 20% reservation, they said, should be kept for the ‘laid off’ category—this includes job descriptions called item numbers, dance bar girls, ministers, actors called Shakti Kapoor, rapists, alleged rapists, bottom pinchers, etc. Maybe we can keep a section in Heaven for these unfortunates, Sir?
Among older boys, some wanted to become ‘BCCI executive members’. The ostensible reason being the great ideal of ‘Ownership sans Responsibility’ to which these idealistic youth are drawn. Plus you get to eat a lot of 5 star hotel food!
What do our girls want to be? 29% said they wanted to be reborn with fewer clothes and renamed, preferably with multiple, repetitive alphabets to their names, you know, like Nnishha or Mallikkaa. Try it, oh Lord, how blissfully it rolls off your divine tongue: Kkrishnaa, Vvannitaa, and so on! Nnaaraayann!!
Some want to be ‘Fung Shway experts’. The attraction seems to be the ease with which you can make people do foolish things and get paid to make them do that.
A significant number of 14-year-old girls want to be someone called Sania Mirza, because you get to wear such nice skirts and cool T-shirts. Plus you get to lose every time and yet get praised, paid, and proud. Then you get to read 6 columns in the sports pages on the two games you won and only one line on the 12 you lost. Add to that a flattering photograph that is ogled at by every corporate honcho who has a few million bucks to throw on ads and sponsorships…. you get the picture? I must say, Lord, it pays to be a loser in Indian sports!
Sportspersons seem to be the Indian youth’s dominant fascination. The great Indian spirit of unflagging effort, dedication, fitness, and consistent pursuit of excellence are some of the major reasons for this collective, patriotic urge to become a sports star. There are a few minor side benefits that attract youngsters, including a multi-zero income, easy availability of consorts (now called girlfriends), and Government jobs. The fact that a busy sports person wouldn’t be able to attend Sarkari daftar wasn’t considered to be an issue. “Chalta hai re!” was the refrain. Some people, however, were worried about the risk of getting brain cancer. Huh?
It seems if you become a sports star, you have to keep talking on the mobile all the time, answering calls from a certain class of gentlemen called bookies, some kind of ladies called bimbos, and another kind of people called journos. The last are supposed to be a special aquatic species of mammals that eat things called stories, drink a liquid called scotch, and write without fear or favor of facts. Anyways, talking on mobile phones may lead to brain cancer, it seems, leading to worry. Lord, shall I get a mobile with Bluetooth for you? The banks and credit card firms are interested to give me one, FREE!

Where would you like to live, I asked the Indian youth?
A few said they wanted to go to POK, the Kashmir on the other side of the border. Why, I asked? The answer was “ it is the only place on earth where women listen to and obey their men”. Sounds interesting, Lord! Would you like to shift base?
Many boys and girls wanted to live in Bengal, the main reason being the extra 56 days of annual rest days that a benevolent Government ensures for its citizens by sponsored holidays, called bandhs. Some nasty people call them names for doing this. I disagree, as do many learned people like Mr. Karat. The Government wants the people to get rest, breath room air, and have normal domestic fights so that they don’t get carried away in the modern fashion of mindless escape from poverty, ill health and other spiritually empowering experiences. Bandhs also give these overworked people the time to procreate while the kids play street cricket, an important way for India to compete in the coming years with China.
Lord, I hereby recommend reservation of a section of heaven for these wonderful humans called Leftists! The materialistic, modern reformists can go to Hell!
Surprisingly, nobody wanted to live in Chennai. It seems it is unsafe for young people who hope to get kissed at least once in a lifetime. This immoral section of our misguided youth doesn’t realize how bad, demeaning and unhealthy kissing is. Ask the Tamil Nadu cops, they’ll tell you it’s okay to kiss only if the recipient is in Government and the anatomical site chosen for the act is way behind sight. So there!
Some boys wanted to shave their heads and anchor TV programs, attacking all the evil sections of society, like doctors, mothers-in-law, maids, etc. They unanimously said they wanted to establish their opinions without bearing the conventional burden of truth. They claim inspiration from none other than Einstein, who reputedly said, “If the facts don’t fit the theory, change the facts”!
What an admirable country your children are going to create, O Great One! I can then truly say, ‘Mera Bharat Mahaan’!
And, Lord, a place in Heaven for all head-shaved TV anchors, please?!”