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The Times of India (September 28, 2009) reported that Hitler might not have died in a bunker. The theory that Adolf Hitler committed suicide in a bunker by shooting himself has been proved wrong as DNA test has found that the skull fragments thought to be of the dictator are actually of a female.

A piece of skull touted to be Hitler's, complete with bullet hole, had been taken from outside the Fuhrer's bunker by the Russian Army and preserved by Soviet intelligence, the Daily Mail reported. But, DNA analysis of the skull fragment by American scientists has found it to be of a woman under 40. Hitler was 56 in April 1945. "We know the skull corresponds to a woman between the ages of 20 and 40," said University of Connecticut archaeologist Nick Bellantoni.

So what might have happened in the early 1940s? Did Hitler really die, or was it a cover up? If he didn’t die, then where did he go? When did he die?

To know the answers for these curious questions, go through my post titled, “Escape to Ecuador: Fact or Fallacy?”

I’m sure you’ll be surprised.

Here's the link:


Broken Hearts - A Short Story


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The following story is dedicated to all those boys who….. Well, never mind. Shut up and read.


Raghu was in a deep slumber. The theory that students feel very sleepy during the exams has stood the test of time. Raghu was just proving it once again. Well, there is one more theory that Raghu and almost all his friends had firmly believed in. Sleep in the afternoon so that you can stay wide awake at night. After studying for some time at night, you cook maggi and eat it and drown it with gallons of tea or coffee and then go to sleep as soon as possible so that you can wake up early in the morning with a fresh mind. You have got to study with a fresh mind, right?

Nishchal had done the same thing for the past 10 days, but now that his exams were over, his mind was as fresh as early morning dew. He wasn’t feeling sleepy at all.

“Raghu, Raghu, Raghu, Raghu, Raghu……,” he loudly chanted at the top of his voice.

Raghu put his head out from under the covers and blinked his eyes. He wore a kind of expression, which looked like he was accused of committing rape when he had only shaken the girl’s hands. He saw Nishchal standing in front of the mirror.

“What the hell happened?”

“Don’t you have exam tomorrow? It’s already 4:45 in the afternoon. Don’t you have to study?” Nishchal said, playfully.

“You know, you are one big sadistic monster. Just because your exams are over, you are disturbing my sleep, you filthy skunk?” Raghu was fulminating.

“I am just concerned about you, dude.” But the sound of his voice had no concern, but gaiety.

Raghu lifted a box from the table, which was beside his cot and threw at him angrily. Nishchal caught it and started laughing. Raghu muttered something and went inside the covers again.

Nishchal was having tremendous fun, irritating him. Why wouldn’t he? After all, Raghu had done the same thing to him the previous semester, when Nishchal was exactly in his position.

“I overheard your conversation with Shiva in the morning. You still have 8 chapters to cover, don’t you?”

Raghu put his right hand out from under the covers and slowly lifted his ring finger. Nishchal shook his head, still laughing. Oh, by the way, Raghu always wore his ring on his middle finger.


After waggling inside the covers for another two minutes, Raghu got up finally. His face looked tensed. Exaaaaaam!

“Where the hell is Shiva?” asked Raghu, suddenly remembering.

Shiva and Raghu had planned to study together.

“He’s gone out with Aindrita,” Nishchal said, flatly.

Raghu’s expression changed. Nishchal could not make out whether the morose expression was due to jealousy or the exam tension. After debating with himself for a minute, he decided on the former.

Aindrita was the kind of girl who had sung duet with every boy in college – in his dreams and fantasies. So every boy in college had a right to be jealous of Shiva, for he had tapped the most beautiful girl in college, or probably in the whole city. To speak in their dialect, she was the beautifullest girl in the whole world! Nishchal shook his shoulders, which broke the flow of his wild thoughts.

Then the door was thrown open with a loud noise and in came Shiva, fuming.

Nishchal and Raghu looked at him confusingly as he went and sat on his cot, which was beside a window and buried his head in his hands. A moment later, Abdul, who had seen Shiva running up the stairs with a worried look on his face, brought with him the remaining two members of the team.

They were a team of 6, and everybody was very close to each other. They had fun together; supported each other in everything, but there was one small hitch. Shiva had stolen the girl of their dreams. But none of them made a pretense that everything was all right. Their disappointment and displeasure was too conspicuous every time the topic of Aindrita was brought up. After all, you don’t hide anything with your best friends.

Now everyone was around him, genuinely worried. No one spoke a word for a very long time. Raghu, who was seated next to him, said “What happened, Shiv?”

He still didn’t say anything. The silence that followed Raghu’s question was interminable. Shiva, according to all his friends, was a super-happy-man. When a guy has a girlfriend like Aindrita, there is no reason to be sad, even for a single moment of a moment. This was the reason for their perplexity.

“What happened, dude?” said Mogli of Mechanical dept. But the tone of his voice said, ‘Bloody loser! Speak up.’

Shiva slowly rubbed his face with his hands and said, “I just broke up with Aindrita.”


It was the last thing anyone had expected. It was simply unbelievable. Nobody uttered a word and a heavy drop of silence hung in the air. Those few moments of silence seemed like eternity. Hearing that, the Filthy Five got a trifle disconcerted, but their expressions were inscrutable. They wanted to make sure before reacting to it.

“You mean she broke up with you?” Bagheera of Biotechnology dept. asked.

Shiva suddenly looked up to encounter the culprit who had embarrassed him. But all he could see was 5 deadpan faces staring intently at him. He finally gave in and said, “Yeah, whatever,” and put his head down again in melancholy.

That very moment, the atmosphere in room no. 221 changed drastically. Their grief over losing the girl of their dreams was a thing of the past now, and the exam tension, a thing of the future. The only thing that mattered to them now was that Aindrita was single again, and their broken hearts were fixed.

Mechanical Mogli was already standing in front of the mirror, combing his hair as if he was getting ready to go on a date with Aindrita.

Biotech Bagheera took off his t-shirt in an overwhelming joy and brandished it in the air, like Sourav Ganguly had done when India won the finals against England at Lords, NatWest Series 2002.

IT Abdul knelt down facing the west side and started offering his prayers. It was 5 o’ clock in the evening, anyway. For a moment everyone was stunned to see this, because no one had ever seen him offer prayers with such devotion in the past 3 years. Well, you never know when one becomes a firm believer in God.

Nishchal was dialing a number on his cell phone. Raghu noticed it and raised his eyebrows.

“I’m calling Harry. With his influence, I am gonna get a concession in gym fees.” He then stood in front of the mirror and said to himself, ‘I need to get tough.’

Raghu shook his head and kept quiet, but the other members of the gang didn’t.

Now, Mogli and Bagheera were hugging each other. When they were done hugging, Mogli said, “Look dude. I am going to try first. If something goes awry, I shall give her up to you and help you. But I don’t think that’s gonna happen, because she smiled when I cracked a joke in Shiva’s birthday party last month. I think she has feelings for me.” He combed his hair once again.

“Sure man. No problem,” said Bagheera. She has feelings for me. Blah blah blah. Such a moron! I was the one who dropped her to her hostel when she was getting drenched in the rain 2 months ago. She was impressed with my helping nature. If Bagheera hadn’t been Shiva’s friend, Aindrita would never have taken his help. By the way, legend says that Bagheera didn’t sleep for 2 days after that incident.

“But if she comes to me, promise me you wouldn’t get jealous of me,” Bagheera said.

Mogli considered this for a few seconds and said, “Of course, dude. I swear on Pamela Anderson’s silicones I wouldn’t get jealous of you. I shall be happy for you, bro.”

“Now I believe you,” mumbled Bagheera.

Even though Raghu was already planning to make a move towards Aindrita, he didn’t dare make it conspicuous. Instead he put his hand on Shiva’s shoulders and asked, showing concern, “So what are you going to do now? Try for Shalini?”

He didn’t mean it as sarcasm, but in a heightened state of joie de vivre he hadn’t known what to say to him.

It infuriated Shiva very much and lifted his head for the first time in 5 minutes, and when he saw his gang of sadistic friends happily prattling all over the room, his anger mounted and shouted at Raghu, “Screw off, man.”

Everyone stopped their merry making and looked at Shiva and Raghu.

“Screw off? What’s that supposed to mean?” Bagheera asked, getting flummoxed.

“Don’t you know? It’s a replacement for ‘beep off,’” Mogli answered his query.

“Yeah, yeah. Good thinking, good thinking,” some of them said in chorus.

No sooner had Shiva hid his face again in his hands than his cell phone started ringing. None of them gave heed to it and continued their jollification. Shiva took his cell phone out of his pocket and exclaimed, “It is Aindrita!”

Silence reigned supreme in the room once again.


He picked up the phone and walked towards the window. Bagheera and Mogli followed him silently. They tried to hear both sides of the conversation, but to no avail. Raghu went and pulled them back. They cringed and came back, disappointed. Shiva talked for full five minutes and turned back. He was grinning from ear to ear. Everyone was staring at him in mute amazement.

Not wanting to test their patience further, Shiva decided to say, “She is back again, guys.”

“Back where?” It was Abdul.

“Back in my life.”

Everyone grunted and groaned and swore. Shiva deciphered their swearing, for reading lips is not rocket science, you see.

He continued anyway, “She apologized for behaving rudely with me and explained that it was due to exam tension. She promised that it would never happen again between us.”

Raghu slumped back on the cot and mumbled, “I’m happy for you.” No one heard him except Shiva, who smiled in acknowledgement.

Mogli, who was trying to change his hair style for the past 15 minutes, threw away the comb.

Bagheera silently wore his t-shirt again.

Abdul shouted at the top of his voice, “Goddamn it! Don’t you all have exams tomorrow? Brainless idiots!”

Everyone ignored him.

Mogli even went to the extent of talking Shiva out of the relationship.

“Dude, listen to me. A girl who changes her mind like a chameleon changes its colour, what guarantee do you have that she will stick with you always? Believe me. Don’t make a fool out of yourself.”

Shiva just laughed. “Remember what I said,” Mogli said and slowly scuttled away.

“I’m going to Green Park to get drunk. Anyone coming?” Nishchal said. A kind of Devdas’s charm had come onto his face.

Nobody said anything. “Shit! Life sucks! And so do girls!” Nishchal fumed.

After that everyone just kept silent. There was a pin drop silence for an unfathomable amount of time. Bagheera, who hadn’t said anything until now, cleared his throat and slowly spoke up.

“Guys, does anyone know Shalini’s phone number?”

None of them knew how to react to this. So they didn’t.


One hour later when only Shiva and Raghu were there in the room, studying for their exams, Shiva’s cell phone beeped. There was a message from Nishchal. He read it and smiled. And eventually three more messages poured in. All said the same thing: ALL THE BEST. Raghu and Shiva looked at them and smiled heartily, for they knew in their heart of hearts that the wishing was not for the exam.

Boys are boys, eh?

********************The End********************

Copyright © Karthik 2009

Escape to Ecuador: Fact or Fallacy?


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Year 1981

Magda Stapleford, a widow of Col. Kevin Stapleford, had never been so surprised before. Or was it shock? Perhaps it was the latter. She was holding in her hand one of the 60 slides of art pieces that Lt. Colonel Wendell Stevens (Ret.) had brought from Cuenca, Ecuador. Colonel Stevens had just returned from an extensive investigative trip to Ecuador. He was the one who, before going, had sold the Staplefords his house through a friend. Now that Col. Kevin Stapleford had died, he had decided to pay a visit to the widow. Staplefords had a huge art collection at their little house. Upon seeing this, Colonel Wendell couldn’t stop himself from boasting about his knowledge of art and showed Mrs. Stapleford the slides he had recently taken.

Magda Stapleford had already looked worried when he mentioned ‘Ecuador,’ but her worry turned into trepidation when she looked at a particular slide. It was a picture painted by Raphael when he was only fifteen years old in the early classical style, in 1498 or 1499.

“Where did you find all these?” asked Magda Stapleford.

“Oh, it is a beauty, isn’t it? Well, not only these 60, rather there were masterpieces from all over the world; almost a billion dollars in priceless artwork, all stored in a little Catholic Church in Cuenca, Ecuador. The person in charge of this artwork was Father Krespi. He was kind enough to show me the storeroom in which all these masterpieces were held,” Colonel Stevens explained with great exuberance.

“Was there a frame or anything around it?” she was asking about the picture in the slide she was holding, “Or were there anything that looked like numbers or symbols of some kind along the edges?” she was eager to know.

“There was no frame, but yes; there were some markings. But again I am not sure whether they were numbers or symbols, for I don’t know German.”

Magda went inside a room and came back with a notepad and a pencil. She sketched something on the pad and showed it to him. “Is this what you saw?”

Colonel Stevens was taken aback. “Yes. This is exactly what I saw.”

“Oh, my God! That piece had been in my family for generations. Those bastards looted it from our ancestral castle in Bavaria.”

“Who looted it?” Colonel Stevens was flummoxed.

“The Nazis,” she replied and grew silent for a few seconds. She needed some time to compose herself. Then she asked calmly, “Tell me about this Father Krespi.”

“Yes. Father Krespi. He was a great old man; probably in his early 80s. Very kind.”

“Well, could you describe him please? I mean his height, eye colour, his walking style, etc.”

Colonel Stevens was a trifle disconcerted, but decided to answer her query anyway.

“He was a little over 5 feet tall. About 5’2” or 5’3”. He had a wrinkled forehead, his eyes, with deep bags that drooped down and, his most striking feature; his sparkling blue eyes. And while walking he kept his hand back, and sort of swaggered, kind of kicking out his knees.”

Magda Stapleford was lost in her own imaginations. Then she hid her face in her hands and let out a sharp cry, “Mein Gott!” My God!

Colonel Stevens looked like a fish out of water. Swimming through her memories, Magda began to tell her story.

Year 1943

Magda Zeitfeld, a German Intelligence Officer, was the daughter of a leading Plastic Surgeon in Germany. He was a pioneer in the field of implanted facial prosthetics. He had the largest plastic surgery clinic in Germany, which received much of its financing from the Nazi Government. He ran the clinic along with his son and occasionally, Magda lent her hand.

As the war broke out, Magda was commissioned to work in the German Army, and was assigned to German Intelligence; working with the SS.

In the fall of 1943, three high level Nazi officials were brought into her father’s clinic under conditions of extreme secrecy and security. No paper works, no names. These men chose to have their faces altered to have exaggerated Semitic features. Two of these men were Adolf Hitler and Martin Borman. Magda herself was well acquainted with Hitler and had commissioned a program to alter the appearances of four men to look exactly like Hitler. The surgery was conducted in her father’s clinic itself. Same height and build. They were to master Hitler’s voice and distinctive walk. Faces and dental work were altered. Even their spines were broken in the same place where Hitler had been injured in World War I. The fact that Hitler had dummies is a well known theory and that had saved his life a few times. But this time it was totally different. Hitler himself underwent plastic surgery which altered his body completely, especially his face.

Martin Borman was the Nazi leader and a private secretary to Hitler. He masterminded the decentralization of German industry and was also planning a Fourth Reich, since Nazi Germany was slowly collapsing which he was not oblivious to. Hence the planning of surgery and eventually, escape.

Two weeks later, all the scars on their faces from the surgery were gone. And when the surgeon was not needed anymore, the Nazis raided the clinic and brutally killed the entire staff including Magda’s father and brother. The clinic was burned down along with all the records. But Magda was spared for some reasons. Maybe because she belonged to SS, and didn’t pose a threat. Magda decided to have her vengeance and surrendered herself to the United States Government and told them everything she knew about SS, and the famous surgery followed by mass murdering.

She continued to work for SS, and reported back to Col. Kevin Stapleford who was the head of OSS (Office of Strategic Services). OSS is now known as CIA. She worked as a double agent for some time and leaked potential evidence to the Allies. But when the war ended, she didn’t have any family to go back to. Germany collapsed, and so did the Third Reich. She was still a potential person for the Allies, for she was very intelligent; she continued to work with the US. And eventually she started spending more time with Col. Kevin Stapleford; fell in love and married him and moved to American Southwest.

Year 1981

Magda had been in Hitler’s office many times and had once noticed a particular art piece that was hung behind Hitler’s desk. It was the same Raphael’s painting that was looted by the Nazis and it was the same Raphael’s painting which she was now seeing in the slide.

“So you mean all your ancestral property is in Cuenca now? Ecuador?” Colonel Stevens asked, ruminating on the story he had just heard.

“My ancestral property is a trivial issue compared to what I just told you,” Magda Stapleford said, frivolously.

Colonel Stevens still looked befuddled.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Magda said.

When he didn’t answer, she told him one of the greatest cover-ups of the modern world.

“Krespi was actually an alias that was given to Adolf Hitler in 1943.”

Lt. Colonel Wendell Stevens was dumbfounded; his heart palpitated.

She didn’t give him any time to react, and continued, “After the successful surgery, in the year 1943, Martin Borman totally disappeared from the scene. He was given sanctuary by the Vatican, which we have definite proof and evidence of, and they arranged for him to escape to South America. He first went to Argentina and supposedly set up head quarters and made arrangement for others to follow. He apparently moved from there to Cuenca, Ecuador. And according to our sources, he has successfully established the Fourth Reich.”

Colonel Stevens was still silent. She asked him, breaking his stream of unbridled thoughts. “Tell me, Mr. Stevens. In which year did your Father Krespi arrived at Ecuador?”

He cleared his throat, scratched his chin and said slowly, “Krespi claims he is from an Italian/Austrian family in Northern Italy. He came to the Vatican in the fall of 1943. There, he attended seminary and served as a Novitiate. Later, he was ordained into the priesthood. All this was behind the closed walls of the Vatican. Unheard at the time, and has never been repeated since. He never set foot outside of Vatican City, a city with the status and diplomatic immunity of a sovereign nation. Krespi was given a position as Curator of Art for the Vatican Archives, a position far above his humble rank as Novitiate.”

Magda nodded her head and said, “Hitler did not make a single speech after late 1943, and his public appearances became virtually nil. 1943 is the year Hitler disappeared and it is also the year in which Father Krespi appeared in Cuenca. The speeches made after 1943, especially the one before his death in 1945 is his dummy. Those dummies were perfect; their style, voice, everything. But they lacked one important quality; Hitler’s charisma. Only people that had observed Hitler’s speeches closely could tell if he was really the Furor.”

Colonel Stevens still had his doubts. “But Hitler didn’t speak Italian. Father Krespi spoke fluent Italian.”

Magda slowly smiled to herself and said, “Oh, dear man, did you know that Hitler’s mother was a staunch Roman Catholic from northern Italy? And did you know that his first language was Italian, and it was all he spoke until he was 12 years old?” She paused for a few seconds, which Colonel Stevens felt interminable, and then continued, “In any of the news reels, did you ever see an interpreter between him and Mussolini? Never. He used to speak Italian to his staff in the Chancellor’s office all the time.”

Colonel Stevens was now staring at the ceiling of the room, trying to make sense out of every word he was hearing. Magda slowly stood up and went to the store room and came back with an old black and white picture and a scissor. She placed the picture on the table and cut it in the shape of a kidney, so that only eyes, ears and forehead of the man in the picture were visible.

“Now, use all your talents that you got from your experience in American Air Force and examine the picture very carefully.”

Colonel Stevens started observing it keenly.

“Isn’t that the forehead of your Father Krespi? The eyes and the ears?” Magda inquired.

He observed the picture for another few seconds, then lifted his head and said, his voice shaking, “Oh, my God! It’s definitely he. It’s Hitler.”

Magda didn’t say anything and left him alone for some time. None of them spoke a word for a few minutes. Then Colonel Stevens leaned forward, arched his brows and asked, inquiringly “But he shot himself and his body was burned in the bunker?” It was more of a statement.

Magda was expecting this question. “Well, Russians were the ones who found the body first. All the evidence was washed out already as I told you earlier. But there was one dental assistant who had cleaned Hitler’s teeth, twice. The Russians asked her to draw the picture of his teeth. After 10 hours of deliberation, and brutal interrogation, when she couldn’t do it, Stalin announced to the world that the sketches matched Hitler’s, for he didn’t want to be humiliated in front of the whole world by letting them know that Hitler had in fact slipped through his fingers.”

Colonel Stevens grew silent again. Shock held him incapacitated for an unfathomable time. Magda’s expression was inscrutable.

The revelation he had was simply too much for him to digest. Father Krespi is Adolf Hitler? The Fuhror? The man responsible for thousands of innocent lives? Did I really meet that monster just a few days ago?

After some time, he quietly took Magda Stapleford’s leave. And she stood at the door, looking over him, not knowing what to feel anymore.



1. Villagers say that Father Krespi was often visited by German people. Father Krespi died in the year 1993. He was about 90 years old. Over 2000 people from all over the world came for his funeral and mobbed the little village. Some of them were Germans that had armed escorts. He was interned in a beautiful ornate polished teakwood coffin, with baroque gold handles. It was no less than a King’s funeral. He was laid to rest in a white marble sepulcher, which is still cleaned weekly, adorned with flowers constantly, all paid for by anonymous admirers.

A few days after his death, all the art pieces in the store room of the Church, worth billions of dollars, were loaded into a Boeing 707 and transported to an unknown location.

2. SS stands for Schutzstaffel (German), which means Protective Squad.

3. After the World War II, the officers of SS that were responsible for the brutal killings of thousands of people (under the dictatorship of Hitler), went into exile, for they were being hunted like dogs all over the country. They changed their identities drastically and became more and more evasive for the present govt. to track down. They then formed an organization called, “ODESSA.” In German, Organization der ehemaligen SS-Angehörigen. In English, Organization of Former SS Members. Though some of them were caught and sentenced to death, many of them were (and are) still at large and they were (and are) still being searched.

Sources: Sean David Morton and Katman

The Real(ity) Rapists


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A week ago I got the opportunity to watch a few episodes of ‘Byomkesh Bakshi,’ a TV serial that used to come in the early 90s. And boy was I rejuvenated? Certainly! I even got nostalgic since it brought back memories of my childhood. The opening music of the show (which still haunts me), the simple yet brilliant plots, dhoti clad Rajit Kapoor, his intelligence in solving cases, his dumb partner, and above all the show’s simplicity made it extremely loveable.

This was a time when we didn’t have cable connection; Doordarshan 1 was the only channel. Apart from Byomkesh Bakshi, we also had 'Malgudi Days,' Shekhar Suman’s ‘Reporter’ and ‘Dekh Bhai Dekh,’ and not to mention the silly yet entertaining ‘Chandrakanta’ and ‘Alif Laila.’ Doordarshan 1 also showed the generosity of telecasting US TV shows ‘Street Hawk’ and ‘Knight Rider.’

It was really a pleasure watching these shows. Apart from mere entertainment, they had some CONTENT in them.


Fast forward 15 years and all we see on TV are Rakhi ‘Silicone’ Sawant and her disciples at their best bestial behavior. Channels are loaded with such mindless crap. To name a few: Rakhi Sawant ka Swayamwar, MTV Roadies, MTV Splits villa, Big Boss, and the latest Sach Ka Samna and Iss Jungle Se Mujhe Bachao.

I’ve always believed that we humans have brains in our heads, but after watching these shows, I’m now forced to believe that there are some men out there whose brains are situated below their waists and women, below their necks. And voila! Everyone is desperately trying to prove that they are very brainy. So welcome them. Here come the brainiest people on earth!

These are the kinds of shows where you won’t find anything except the bitch fights. The topic everywhere seems to be the same: Who is the biggest bitch of the lot? And every girl tries her level best to prove that she is the one. ‘I’m the biggest bitch,’ yells one, to which the other responds, ‘You could be a bitch, but I’m a bitchy bitch.’ Another girl shouts at the top of her voice, ‘You both could be bitches, but I’m a bitchy whore.’ Another female is hell bent on proving her mettle, and screams, ‘Perhaps you don’t know me. You all could be bitches and whores, but I’m a bitchy whore with a slutty attitude.’ Now beat that. Well, no prizes for guessing. The last one is the winner! She gets the prize from the producers of the show and the TV viewer is mercilessly raped in the head. Do heads swell up after a few weeks? Sorry, guys! I haven’t any experience, for I’ve always taken care of my ‘izzat’ very well.

The following is a transcript of the conversation between Sambhavi and Ankita, the participants of MTV Roadies 5.0. This uncensored footage was leaked on You Tube before it was aired. Now don’t go searching for it, for it has already been removed.

Ankita: I’m not a f***ng slut like you, yaar. And I don’t need to sleep my way into the show... Mere baap ki condom ki dukaan nahin hai. Tere baap ki hogi…samjhi?

Shambhavi: Uski hai… uski Ayaaz...

Ankita: I saw Nihal’s hand inside your T-shirt, fu**ing you ask me…

Sambhavi: F##k off! (Arguing about a previous task where the boys were made to strip if the girls got GK answers wrong)

Ankita: Tera banda to sabse pehle nanga hua tha…mera baad mein nanga hua tha. Tu sabse pehle baith gayi thi. Tu toh khud hi nangi hone ko taiyaar hai sa**li ra**d, bolti kya hai mujhe… (inaudible)

Shambhavi: My mom is not a (inaudible)… She’s not a bitch

Ankita: My mom…?? When you said the stuff about what… I slept with Vikrant, what about my parents? Didn’t you think about that?

While this is going on, the boys watch them mutely as if thinking, ‘Who has a bigger mouth and who is the bigger bitch?’ After a few minutes of analyzing, he zeroes in on one. ‘Ok, she is the one and she is the perfect match for me. Why? Because, I am the biggest dog. Simple.’

Well, this might not be new to anybody who is reading this post, but I mentioned it only to remind you, just in case you are in a trance. If there are some Roadies fans here who claim that it’s all about adventure, I have news for you. Recently a 19 yr old girl, Krushnaa Patil, from Pune climbed the Mt. Everest. She became the youngest woman in the world to conquer the summit. Now, that’s something called adventure! And only through these kinds of activities should a woman prove that she is gutsier than most of the boys out there and not through some bitch fights on some rotten TV shows.

Now coming back to the topic of discussion:

It’s the same case with Splits Villa and Big Boss and Iss Jungle Se Mujhe Bachao. These things really don’t make any sense to me. I mean why the hell does anyone wants to see what happens in a Big Boss house? All you see are the conversations between the housemates regarding groceries and some crap; gossips and some emosional attyachar (I once committed a sin by watching a few minutes of an episode in which Monica Bedi cried and explained about her amazing adventures with Abu Salem. I literally fell sick after watching it and trust me, I had to consume two bottles of Dabur Chavanprash to get back to my normal health. In fact I do it every time I watch such things). And what a welcome did Shilpa Shetty get when she returned to India from UK! What, had she been to an expedition to Mars or something?

Talking about the most recent happenings, what the heck is all about Rakhi Sawant’s Swayamwar? Gosh! Is she trying to prove that she is a woman after all? Again, why does anyone should give a damn about her marriage? And why does the media blow it up as if she has brought name and fame to the country? Is it really that important? Now to put an icing on this stale cake, the show’s second season is coming up where Rakhi and Elesh Parujanwala (who has just been crowned as ‘the biggest dumb ass in the world’) are supposed to play Mother and Father to a child. Here is what Rakhi ‘I love to rape English’ Sawant has to say:

"I've a migraine problem. When a child cries, I get a severe headache. I don't know how I'll manage for a month with a stranger’s child. On top of that, I've to cook on the show. I can't cook to save my life.”

Ask her how she will cope when she has her own kids and Rakhi replies, "Apna bacchhaa to har koi paal leta hai, jaanwar bhi. I don't know how I'll cope. I think I'm going to lose my cool completely. So far people have only seen the good Rakhi Sawant. Now they'll see the real me. I can't even use makeup. Can you imagine Rakhi Sawant without makeup?"

Dabur Chavanprash, anyone? Gosh! Was Lord Brahma suffering from Swine Flu when he created her?!

Now, are the producers of ‘Iss Jungle Se Mujhe Bachao’ under the impression that their show is as good as the American TV series ‘Lost?’ Who are they kidding?

Talking about this show, this is what Chitrashi ‘Chak De’ Rawat, one of the junglees, has to say:

“I don’t understand why people are making a big issue out of it. Any damn channel you see is showing skin show and objectionable content, why target reality shows? What if they are showing people bathing, they are actually living that life. You don’t expect them to wear jeans and pants while taking a bath. They can’t help it; they are staying in a dirty jungle day and night. As far as use of abusive language goes, you tend to lose temper at times. I think a ‘beep’ should suffice. No big deal”

Dudes and dudettes, what shall we say to this? Chak De?!

Ok, sweetie. If you really want to show us how you bathe, why don’t you tape it and send it to us directly? We shall give you our address. If this is not a good idea, why don’t you simply upload it on You Tube? I’m sure that will make you famous and you’ll be famously called as Chitrashi Hilton. What say? And about losing temper and using abusive language; a beep would suffice, huh? Is there anything left to imagine? Do you think people would imagine the word ‘Luck’ whenever they hear a beep? Crazy immature bimbo! Grow up!

(On the contrary, I do agree that we get to see some ravishing babes in these kinds of shows, but their worst misdemeanours subjugate their beauty. And when do these moronic producers understand that if we really want to watch babes and not the show, we guys prefer Monica Bellucci or Megan Fox to Monica Bedi, and Salma Hayek to Shweta Tiwari? The day they realize this, trust me, they will start making some spectacular shows like Prison Break and 24. Oh, I’m being too optimistic, ain’t I? Too bad, you say? Sorry, it’s a childhood problem)

‘Satyameva Jayate.’ This is the caption for ‘Sach Ka Samna.’ The biggest joke on the face of the earth! Tell me, do we really want to know who is sleeping with whom? (Not to mention the number and the names associated with it) Do we really want to know whether Urvashi Dholakia was thrown out of the college because she became pregnant? Do we really want to know whether some retard middle aged aunty wants to have an extra marital affair? Don’t you think this is really outrageous?

And every time a moron gives some awfully irritating and embarrassing answer, Rajeev Khandelwal’s expression is like, ‘This is one crazy family, dude,’ or ‘Thank God, I’m the host and not the participant.’

When a participant admits to some hard facts, their family members’ expression is like, ‘What the ‘beep?’ If they really are so courageous and value the truth, why didn’t they say it to their family members before? Why do they have to do it on TV? And above all, why the hell do we want such shows? Are we in the right state of mind?

Let me not continue the discussion on Sach Ka Samna, for I’m afraid it’s going to be lengthier than Draupadi’s sari.


One of the primary reasons that prompted me to write this article is a little incident that happened a few days ago. I had been to one of my friends’ house. There I met his niece who was around 9-11 yrs old. She was lovely! I was having a heavenly time chatting with that cutie pie, and during the conversation I casually asked her what her favourite TV show was, to which she replied ‘Roadies.’ I was already getting worried when she dropped another bomb, “I also quite like the new show ‘Iss Jungle Se Mujhe Bachao.’ You know, they make them do so many crazy crazy things,” and started giggling. The way she said was damn cute, but what she said was definitely not. I was sick to my stomach. We certainly don’t want young kids to watch them, do we? Don’t you think kids are losing their innocence nowadays?

‘Fuck’ has become a synonym to ‘Attitude,’ courtesy is no longer considered as a good quality, but a weakness; good manners are out of fashion. TV is no longer considered as a means of getting news and entertainment. It’s all about reality now. Real fights, real back stabbings, real use of profanity, real bitching, real skin, real vulgarity, and real gratuitous violence. The centre of attraction of these shows is misbehavior and cruelty of participants. The issue of ‘Sach Ka Samna’ was taken up in Rajya Sahba recently and some MPs wanted to put a ban on it and took it to High Court, but the HC dismissed the petitions challenging its telecast and said, “Don’t like Sach Ka Samna? Then don’t watch.” HC can’t be blamed, of course. Putting a ban on it could be a violation of the Right to Speech and an assault on the freedom of media. No matter how much we rant about it, we cannot stop them from making such shows. It’s our responsibility to decide what to see and what not to see.

Under IPC section 376, whoever commits rape shall be imprisoned for not less than 7 years. Now tell me, is there any section under which the people are punished for raping the minds of younger generation?

It’s time to introspect, fellas. We may not be able to stop them, but at least let’s stop encouraging them.

Perhaps this is the real moment of truth. What say?


P.S. Instead of watching ‘Iss Jungle se crap,’ start downloading all the episodes from ‘Lost.’ There are babes, there is mystery, and there is lot of thrill and tension. Or better; watch Man vs. Wild on Discovery. It’s definitely worth it.

Copyright © Karthik 2009

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The Negotiator
Malgudi Days
As The Crow Flies
Swami and Friends
The Devil's Alternative
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The Godfather
The Seven Minutes
The Prize
Atlas Shrugged
The Fountainhead
If Tomorrow Comes
Digital Fortress
The Chancellor Manuscript
The Bourne Supremacy
The Bourne Identity
The Fist of God
The Fourth Protocol
The Odessa File
The Day of the Jackal

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