Tushar Mangl

I have this queer habit to clean up my files and wardrobes on the onset of every  new  year. As I flip through some old letters and my own handwritten notes, I am forced to recall old times which I would so love to forget but never will have the resolve too. So here I am writing the year end post while tearing old papers and drinking hot soup (Of course the music is also on at full volume and Atif Aslam is singing Doorie). Mankind has passed through yet another year. Its time to get new calendars and to form a new habit of writing 13 in the date column instead of 12. Seriously, I almost confuse the years while writing dates at least the first two months of any new year. Sitting atop dead bodies of my own over realistic ambitions and dreams, I look back at this year as a really eventful year. 2012 marked new lows and downfalls in career, relations and life. How I wish time could be like a whiteboard where we can write with all our colors and erase everything ugly spick and span. The big

What's this hoopla all about? Ok. I get it. A woman was gangraped in Delhi. That is as routine an incident as going to office or school everyday. I mean, that happens all the time. A few months ago a string of incidents regarding minor girls being gang raped in Haryana had hogged the media lime light. Of course nothing happened, I am sure. No one burned paraffin candles or drew placards for those girls whose voice probably we would never here. But this incident happened in Delhi. Our very own rape capital of India not just the political capital. And suddenly you are having all this hoopla that is very weird and phony. What are these guys trying to prove? Yes, we are a callous nation. We are a homogeneous mixture of several races of aggressive people who either tried to defend the riches of this land called Bharat or who tried to invade and exploit it. We have more crimes happening domestically than on streets. Most of all who is bothered? More than half of these people protesting w