Indraprastha Giggle & the Holocaust

 

Indraprastha Giggle & the Holocaust

Thanks to  my friend for his terrific.suggestion,I am determined to harass you with this torrent of torture. When I informed him of my intention to write  this  blogpost he demanded his name to be featured prominently. Therefore I have acceded to Pithukuli’s  command . But,then I felt that the idea  of sharing my  candid thoughts  on “.Navigating Life in the Facebook Age” could prove to be remarkably uninspired. Pithukuli  came to my aid once again& added to it, what if this platform existed at the time of Mahabharatha & the Kurukshetra war.?

So here’s   how the Kurukshetra War becomes a bizarre online roast where Bheeshma Pitamaha, Kauravas , Shakuni Mama  and the Pandavas battle it out  using status updates and trending reels

Sanjaya was in deep thought.: Suspecting  that his  Divine   “Divya Drishti” was getting  a bit rusty he decided to create and manage a Facebook page named  “Back to practicing my Divine Vision  #DharmaWins #TotalWarOver."

 Moments after Sanjaya added members of “Kuru”  lineage  in the group  Chat threads & posts began flooding in.   

Sanjaya : Feeling excited—with Dhritarashtra.🔴 LIVE NOW: Streaming the Kurukshetra War straight from the battlefield! 📺⚡ Log  in for live updates, heroic take downs, and strategic insights. You won't want to miss a single second of this historical clash.

Duryodhana logged in to boast about his 11 Akshauhinis ,(the massive combat formation) but a viral status from Lord Krishna crashed the Kaurava servers.

.Day 1 of the Kurukshetra War started with a Facebook Event invite titled "Total Annihilation of Dharma - Bring your own weapons! “

Duryodhana, looking awesome in his silver Armour, went live from the battlefield with the caption: "Feeling mighty, gonna beat up some Pandavas now, might delete later.” #HastinapurRocks #AkshauhiniLife.

 Shakuni Mama kept forwarding shady, unverified forwards. “Forward this to 10 cousins or the Pandavas will take your kingdom!”

Bheeshma Pitamaha finally joined Facebook, but his profile picture was a default sunrise with the quote "Silence is golden.”

 Within seconds, Dusshasana  tagged him in a 50-picture album titled "Hastinapur Fun Trip 3067 BCE.! " filled with blurry photos of himself  & Shakuni Mama plotting at the local Gambling ( dice) joint.

But the comment section immediately broke down. Karna liked his own post,

  Shakuni Mama dropped a comment: ", why you so tense ? Just roll the dice, da!"

Arjuna changed his relationship status to "It's Complicated" after a very public spat with Karna on his timeline.

 Karna had commented on Arjuna’s archery post: "Bro, Photo shopped.! Professional archers use natural lighting."

Meanwhile, Draupadi  re-posted one of her earlier comments on Facebook from the swayamvaram. The caption read: "Feeling cute, might drop a bow later, IDK. 💁‍♀️🏹"

 Her inbox was instantly flooded with friend requests from five very confused brothers and an angry Duryodhana

Meanwhile, on the Pandava side, things were moving at a much slower pace.

 Arjuna was scrolling through his feed in tears. He had just seen a 4K drone video of the Kaurava army and commented: "Bro, these guys have 11 Akshauhinis and I have only 7. I don't want to fight, I just want to go to Mount Raivataka & meditate”

Things hit a boiling point in the middle of the Kurukshetra War.Arjuna checked in on Facebook at the battlefield with the status: "Feeling down. Mentally blocked.”

Lord Krishna immediately replied in the comments section with a 700-verse pinned comment, breaking down the Bhagavad Gita for him. It was essentially a massive motivational thread that read: "Do your duty, kiddo. don’t worry about the likes. DM me if you need more clarity “

 Krishna, the ultimate (trouble maker/shooter ) and strategist, then uploaded the ultimate viral Reel titled "Karma - Just do your duty, Macha!" The Reel became an instant hit, getting millions of views, shares, and a personal check-in from Bhishma Pithamaha himself

.Meanwhile,Duryodhana kept updating his location status to "Safe" inside a lake,

Bheemasena dropped a hilarious reaction image of his heavy mace with the caption, "Tag someone whose head you want to break today!" ,ferreted Duryodhana  out of his hiding place , poked him repeatedly in the ribs, and ruined his whole day.

Finally, after the war, Yudhishtira posted a status update that read: "We won, but at what cost?” The comment section immediately blew up with Draupadi replying: "Cost?! You literally staked me in a game of digital rummy”,

“O’ Bharatshreshtha  the battle is done & dusted .Now Get off your moral high horse and DM King Virata to reserve his beautiful Viratanagara resort for the six of us. No better place to unwind ”

The internet finally broke with  Sanjaya sharing  the ultimate post-war status: "Peace is finally here. Will be back soon with latest   Divya Drishti  updates”  .  #DharmaWins #TotalWarOver.

 

Whispers of Yesteryear

 

Whispers of Yesteryear

The dedicated South Indian domestic help of "olden days” represents a deeply ingrained, often familial, relationship within traditional homes. Historically, these helpers(Male or  female)—often addressed by their names by the oldest to the youngest member of the family  or referred to as  “ Maami” in case of female help,were considered part of the household, navigating a complex blend of servitude, loyalty, and emotional attachment that blurred the lines between employment and kinship.

Domestic helpers often worked for generations serving the grandparents, parents,  children & grand children of their “adopted”  family. They were trusted implicitly with household management, child-rearing, and sometimes, important family decisions, becoming matriarchal (or patriarchal) figures in their own right.

They were often treated as Integral  part of the extended family—given a place to live, food, and clothing, rather than just a salary.

Their duties, which these souls took  upon themselves as their responsibility covered the entire spectrum of household management, including early morning chores like home cleaning, fetching vegetables, sweeping, washing, and preparing tasty treats & traditional dishes.

There are instances of  helpers who stayed in the family, when both parents were working, and  caring for the elderly, acting as the backbone of the household in the absence of nuclear support structures.

 They are remembered as people who arrived quietly to help with chores, the women wrapping their hair in a “Bun” , often with incredible endurance and devotion to the welfare of their adopted family & children they raised.They were  both servant and surrogate — a figure of loving care fused  with their foster  family.

A common occurrence  is a "Paati" (elderly lady) who managed the kitchen and took care of children, becoming more trusted than relatives in some cases.

The Changing Dynamics

While it is easy to  romanticize the relationship that existed in the past, recollections of the subtle play of complex power dynamics cannot be missed.

 The role was often rooted in rigid “olden day” social stratification  systems, where specific  tasks were assigned to workers belonging to particular tier.

As lifestyles have  changed, many of these intimate relationships too have transformed into more contractual, commercial arrangements. However, the reliance on help in Old Fashioned South Indian households still remains a strong cultural practice, with many long-term domestic workers  maintaining close ties to families.

In remembrance of Krishnan,Pachaiamma, Rajamma, Savithramma, Mudda(iah) & Hombale, Basavaiah(Sr) & a host of other noble souls.

Ten Millilitres of Sunshine

 

Ten  Millilitres of Sunshine

 

The branch came down in  night’s storm.leaving a fat  Gulmohar limb, lying across the  pathway like a sleepy python. Next  morning, Junior  spotted it first.

A Logger had  been requisitioned. for Slicing off the fallen branch and other threatening ones to clear the pathway.

.

Wild honeybees had built their comb inside a hollow in the broken branch , . The bees had  already abandoned ship after the storm damage. Just a few confused sleepy workers left, buzzing around .

Rule one: you don’t normally raid a full live hive. But this? The force of the fall had already fragmented the hive. Only a piece no bigger than my palm could be salvaged.The comb would rot with the branch if left where it was  as the bees had moved on.

“Squeeze it” I was commanded

 Squeeze I did.! Gently. Thumb against the wax.

 Golden.Slow  One drop, then another It pooled in the cup like liquid sunlight. Thick, fragrant, carrying the smell of tamarind flowers  (Imagination?). Five  millilitres. Maybe ten. That’s it. About two teaspoons full.

 . Excitement. Thrill. My first ever Honey harvest. And  at Home too !.Never ever dreamt. Four pairs of eyes went wide.

 

We shared it. A few  drops each on our tongues. “It tastes like the fields after rain! ”No chapatis, no bread slice.. Just us, the fallen branch, and the buzz of the last bees relocating to a safer branch .

The comb was just a blob of wax now .& went back on the grass for the ants. Waste not, right?

Later, while washing the cup in the tap, I thought: “people chase kilograms of honey, but this was better”. Ten millilitres , earned without violence or force. It was like Nature  giving us its spare change.

Unanimous  verdict as we licked our  fingers: “Best honey ever”.   (Because we didn’t get much ?).

. Sometimes survival isn’t about filling jars. It’s about knowing when a few drops are enough.

Amidst all the excitement, a small voice in the back of my mind kept asking, “Did we steal somebody’s food , will someone go without lunch today?”