Thoughts of a pessimist

Once upon a time, there was an island in the Indian Ocean which had the shape of a mango fruit. People belonging to multiple communities and cultures lived happily in that island until some stupid decisions and acts made by the people at the helm paved way to a dispute between two communities. As this issue reached its climax, a moustached man who emerged from the northern end of that island took arms and went on a killing spree, thinking that it would solve the issues faced by his community. As this brutal battle was going on for decade after decade, another moustached man emerged from the southern end of that island.

He was a ‘gamarala’ who didn’t know much about ruling a country, handling the economy, understanding the depth of issues, dealing with other countries or any such thing. However, this gamarala was elected the head of that island with the help of some red-hats and yellow-robes, and of course the other moustached man from up north. While gamarala was making a mockery of the lasting issues of that island, the moustached terrorist from north was smart enough to drag him on to another war. Now with a wrecked economy, billions of existing foreign debt and trillions of long lasting issues in the island, gamarala was happy to send his army to fight with the terrorist.

As the troops were advancing towards the terrorist heart land, a miracle happened. A massive number of creatures called ‘patriots’ emerged from all over the island. Majority of these patriots nor their most remote kith or kin were directly engaged in the war, they never heard the frightening multi-barrel gun fire, they never had their children waking up in the middle of the night for the sound of Kfirs flying over their houses carrying bombs weighing hundreds of Kilos, they never had to flee, leaving their houses and valuables behind, to save their lives from endless bunker-busters dropped down, they never saw the blood shed in the battle field, they never saw the painful dying moments of soldiers or they never knew what life is afterwards for the families who lost their loved ones in this beasty battle. However, they became the biggest voice box of the war and all others who did not agree with what they are doing were labeled as either ‘traitors’ or ‘supporters of terrorists’. Then a bullock cart with a white bull came in the mid day sun and took away those traitors one by one; most of them never saw the sunlight again.

These wonderful creatures were the biggest supportive force behind the gamarala on his self declared quest to bring lasting peace to the island by killing the moustached man in north. They always kept silence in front of all the corruptions, malpractices, scams and scandals of gamarala as they believed gamarala was the only one who could face the terrorist, kill him and make their island a heaven on earth. So everything else except the war became secondary to the patriots. They woke up with it, lived with it and slept with it. Why shouldn’t they?

Neither gamarala nor his allies bothered to figure out what made that moustached man a terrorist. While those reasons remained same, gamarala and his allies believed that the death of the terrorist would solve the problem. As this was going on for some time, gamarala found an abandoned elephant from its herd. This elephant promised gamarala that it would help him win the battle against the terrorist. So gamarala got on top of the abandoned elephant. Then the yellow-robes hung on gamarala’s amude and red-caps hung on the yellow-robes. The ‘patriots’ were always behind them. They marched on majestically on to the final battle.

After a massive effort, on one fateful day, gamarala and his allies managed to get rid of the terrorist. The whole island turned in to a carnival and the patriots were on top of the world. Since the supply of national flags was not sufficient to decorate the island, they imported some from the close by Banana Republic. However, there wasn’t a 10% commission on this trade. Those who sacrificed their lives in this effort were treated as gods. Their families were no longer grieving. To celebrate the victory, gamarala decided to hold an election as he did with all other significant victories in the process. People decided that gamarala should rule the island for another 6 years. Having accomplished his dream of bringing lasting peace to the island, gamarala happily went to sleep.

Alas! Gamarala was woken up the next morning by a massive explosion. Having ended the terrorist and established peace in the island, gamarala wondered what the explosion could be. Within moments, he was informed by one of his American citizenship holding brothers that a new terrorist has emerged from the north. He didn’t know if the new terrorist had a moustache or not.

Gamarala or his allies did not know how the new terrorist emerged and what caused it. Not even the yellow-robes, who follow a noble philosophy, realized that you cannot get rid of a problem permanently unless you get rid of what actually causes that problem. So hard they were blind folded by patriotism, they forgot what their great teacher preached thousands of years ago and failed to figure out that it was the same reasons that gave life to the new terrorist as well as the one that they battled out.

So, gamarala and his allies along with the patriots of the island launched a new war on terror, targeting the new terrorist. If you are interested to know how they went on to do that, read this post from the beginning, again.