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Sunday, June 21, 2020

Profits from the passing

Your whinings, your weepings, your woes
Your family, your friends, your foes
are nothing but bytes to their news,
are nothing but a veil for their views.

When they have no esteem for the alive
When they have no dignity for the dead
they dig around your present and past
they tear your life to chewable shreds

For them, your life, was nothing but a spectacle
For them, your death, is a career miracle.
For they get to speak how much you meant
For they get to interpret all that you dreamt.

You are nothing but another breaking news,
Your woes are used to boost their channel views
When you were happy, they burned
When you left, they act concerned.

Who are they? The media, the brokers of news
the hyenas, the vultures, the rotting corpse who chews.
Shut off your telly, stay off the net
Find your happiness, in the people you've met.

Friday, June 19, 2020

The Fault in our News

The clock was ticking. Nervous perspiration trickled down their backs as they watched their chairman, their boss, their supreme leader walk in the conference room. This meeting was for deciding the direction in which their web portal had to be steered. With slow, shuffling steps, he walked. From the furthest chair in the room, he was only visible as a shining spot owing to the lack of hair. On his head.

"Good morning everyone," Patrick Cheena, the head of Fault Views grumbled. It was evident he was upset.

"What's with the mood boss?" the second in command, Mr GumBear asked.

"Damn this GPS! I wanted to go Left, but the bloody system made turn Right," Mr Cheena shouted, visibly angry, as he adjusted his wig.

Everyone in the hall was horrified. The murmurs started immediately. GumBear stood up and silently connected the display monitor to his laptop. Now, everyone's ten year old tweets where they had praised Modi were visible.

"Do you want me to run..." GumBear paused dramatically, "A FACT CHECK?" The murmurs stopped immediately. Everyone's attention shifted back to Mr Cheena, who had, by now, perfectly placed the wig. He now had hairs longer than Rapunzel. Tying them in a neat bun, he started, "So, what news do we have this week?"

"Sir there are memes with Taimur's tshirt turned orange. Sangh is trying to induct Taimur via photoshop," an intern spoke.

"Nice one! GumBear, run a fact check and show these Sanghis their place!"

"Sir, another news. NDTV just said...." He was cut off mid sentence by a wave of hands by Mr Cheena. He slowly walked towards the speaker, held his collar and shouted in his ears, "DO YOU NOT KNOW THE POLICY OF OUR SITE? DO WE FACT CHECK FAKE NEWS BY NDTV?"

His hearing impaired by a few decibels, the young hacker-cum-fact checker sat down, shaking.

GumBear interjected, "Patrick sir, with the border tensions at an all time high, we can use it to, you know, fact -check some claims."

Patrick's eyes gleamed. He patted GumBear on his back, stroked his chin to which GumBear slightly shook his head and smiled. Patrick turned around dramatically and said, "Go through every news on the India-China face-off. Abd while you do so, take these," he opened a duffel bag containing eyeglasses. But strangely, only the right lens was present. There was a black film where the left lens should have been.

"These are my latest fact checking glasses. If you wish to fact-check any claim, you wear these."

"But sir, why is the left side covered?" another hacker/fact checker asked.

"Dont you get it? Thess glasses help us fact-check. Now, you don't verify what you dont see. We will not see anything from the Left. It is our mission to counter and disprove anything the Right Wing writes."

"Wow. You are a genius, sir," GumBear exclaimed, "Where did you find these?"

"On my trip to China, a few days before the attacks began. These costed 2 Yuan each. And I am a 2 Yuan person," Mr Cheena replied.

Hence, in an orderly manner, the entire staff of internet trolls, hackers lined up to collect their eyewear, eager to write the next article showing how Indians are fools to fight against China or how Hindus are spreading terror. GumBear got busy digging out ten year old tweets of people who dared to support India on Twitter and started embarrassing them.

Somewhere in Italy, a descendant of Mussolini's soldier smiled.

Saturday, June 6, 2020

Lives matter not

New Poem Alert!

This poem is trying to express my feelings about all those "social justice protests" ranging from anti CAA stir, to George Floyd. The essence is, nobody cares about the mob, and most certainly not those who instigate them to go on a violent rampage. If you think that social media warrior actually cares about you, you are sorely mistaken. All they care about, is their reach. And likes/shares/comments on their post. Or maybe just the political agenda of the party they support.

Read on!

Lives Matter Not

Lives matter not,
be it Dalits', Muslims' or Black.
Lies are all that matter,
and yes, white is the new black.

Lives matter not,
be it Brahmins', Hindus' or white,
Agenda matters, propaganda peddles
and no peddler cares about your rights.

Lives matter not,
Hashtags and twitter trends do
Burning shops and butchering cops is just,
Anything, everything to satisfy the violent lust.

Lives matter not,
Guns and knives do
You may hate, detest, even lynch
If it's fair game (1), justifying it is a cinch (2).

Lives matter not,
Being an online activist does
Social media is the new arena, twitter fights the new war,
Only matters that we trump the other, not what we fighting for.

Lives matter not,
they never did.
Behind the façade that is social justice,
the hypocrite's intentions hid.

Footnote-

1. Fair game- Concept of fair game in sects is that an individual can be harmed within the law of the sect, if they do anything against the sect. They are called "fair game". Like the concept of kaffirs.

2. Cinch- Something sure or easy.