Disco in Varanasi

New Year’s Eve at Agni Disco, Varanasi

Usually, I go out with my friends to celebrate New Year, but this year I couldn’t because my friends were not organized. I thought, why not explore something new in Varanasi? That’s when I remembered a disco called Agni, which had opened the previous year. I had only heard about it but didn’t know its exact location. I asked my friends, but they didn’t know either. Finally, I took my bike and went searching for it on the evening of the 31st. I reached a bar, asked about the disco, and fortunately, they knew the address.

When I first went there, they told me the timings – open from 12 to 4 in the afternoon and again from 8 to 11 in the evening. They asked me to return at 8 o’clock. Later, I went back with a friend around 9, only to find out that they were allowing couples only. I was really disappointed. I asked if there was any chance later in the night, and they told me to come back after an hour. So, my friend and I went to a nearby alcohol shop, had a beer, and then returned. Luckily, this time they allowed me in.

The entry fee was Rs. 1000 for couples and Rs. 700 for single men like me, while entry was free for girls. The ticket included two beers, but inside they gave only two small glasses instead of a bottle or a can. I had been to several discos and nightclubs in bigger Indian cities before, but this was my first disco experience in Varanasi – and it turned out to be really interesting.

I noticed a few differences compared to discos in big cities. Usually, discos in metros serve good-quality alcohol and have plenty of stock, but here the options were very limited. Most of the alcohol was either cheap, very common, or just lower middle-quality brands – nothing like what I’d seen elsewhere. Another big difference was the music. In Varanasi’s disco, they played only Bollywood songs. Honestly, I enjoyed it because I understand and like Bollywood more than Western music, but it surprised me since in big cities I rarely see discos playing Indian pop or Bollywood.

The crowd was also different. Discos in big cities usually have at least 100 people even on normal days, but here on New Year’s Eve there were hardly 50 people. Most were young boys, though a few girls were also there. Varanasi is a very male-dominated city, and you rarely see girls in short skirts or sleeveless clothes. But at Agni, for the first time in my life, I saw girls in short skirts, drinking, and smoking – something very rare to see in Varanasi. Boys and girls were dancing together, away from their families.

Perhaps many of them were not locals. Varanasi attracts students from all over India, many of whom live in hostels, so I think they were hostel students enjoying their freedom. It’s hard for me to imagine local parents in Varanasi allowing their daughters to go to a disco with male friends. Still, I liked seeing them together. I was also curious about women’s safety at the disco, and after spending nearly three hours there, it seemed to be safe for women as well.

Surprisingly, I even saw a few families with kids. Normally the disco closes at 11 pm, but because it was New Year’s Eve, they stayed open until 1 am. Overall, it was a very nice and memorable experience. I enjoyed it a lot and would definitely like to visit again on regular days with my friends or even family.

Happy New Year 2011!

Varanasi bomb blast

Affected Area

Once again, something happened that I never want to hear about. Varanasi has faced yet another bomb blast – this time at Dashashwamedh Ghat during the Ganga Aarti. My work brings me to this place at least 15 times a month, and though I was not there today, I am shaken and heartbroken for those who were affected. What makes it even worse is the way the tragedy is being hidden. The central government, the UP state government, and much of the media are not telling the truth about the scale of the devastation. I personally saw at least 10 ambulances filled with injured people passing through my neighborhood, yet the official count claims only 20 injured and 1 girl dead.

Dashashwamedh Ghat

Empty Ghats

The ambulances I saw were all headed to BHU hospital, but I know for a fact that at least three other hospitals are also treating victims. This means the real number of injured must be well over 100. I have no words to fully express my grief, but I can say with certainty: enough is enough. The group Indian Mujahideen, which once operated under the name SIMI (Students Islamic Movement of India), has claimed responsibility. But in my view, responsibility also lies heavily on our own government, police, and intelligence agencies. Their repeated failures are what make such tragedies possible.

What hurt me further was listening to the official responses. The Prime Minister and Sonia Gandhi simply appealed for calm, while the UP police made the obvious statement that “this was a terrorist attack”. The whole country already knows this – it doesn’t need repeating. What we need is action, not empty words.

Bomb blast place

Sad Faces

How many times will we be told to “stay calm”? How many times will our leaders fail to protect us, yet ask us to quietly endure? This cannot continue.

I know that writing a post on my blog will not stop terrorism or corruption, but I want to appeal to everyone reading this:

  • Think very carefully before casting your vote.

  • Whenever a policeman demands a bribe, refuse and expose it.

  • If you see corruption or illegal activities, document them and share them publicly.

  • Hold our leaders, police, and intelligence accountable.

We must unite – against terrorists, yes, but also against the corruption and negligence that allow terrorism to flourish in India. Today I feel both sad and angry. My city is wounded again. The ghats are empty, the faces are full of sorrow, and while leaders prepare for their VVIP visits, ordinary people suffer.

Sad faces

Sad faces

Enough is enough.

Road cleaning for VVIPs

Road cleaning for VVIPs

The whole city was closed in the protest of the bomb blast

The whole city was closed in the protest of the bomb blast

Delhi Gay Pride 2010

Delhi Pride

Delhi celebrated its Gay Pride Parade this year on the 28th of November, and I was excited to attend it again. Until last year, the parade used to be held in June, but this year the date was shifted because Delhi gets unbearably hot during the summer. Honestly, I think it was a very sensible decision. This year’s parade was especially important to me because it was the first big pride event in Delhi after the decriminalization of Section 377. I really wanted to witness how people would react. I went with my friend Babu, and later my friend Ravikant, who happened to be in Delhi for some personal work, also joined us.

Delhi pride

Participants

I have already attended several pride parades in India, so nothing really surprised me anymore, but Babu and Ravi were completely shocked. They had no idea what to expect. The parade started at Barakhambha Road and ended at Jantar Mantar, which was about two hours of walking. When I reached Barakhambha, there were already a few hundred people gathered. Many were getting dressed up, others were distributing masks, pamphlets, and candies. One thing I have always noticed about Delhi Pride is that it has a good number of Hijra participants.

support

Demands

The parade was much bigger than last year and far more diverse. There were families, Hijras, students, members of the LGBT community, and straight allies. The event began with music, dancing, and slogans, and soon hundreds more joined in. The police were present in large numbers to manage traffic and ensure safety. The parade lasted nearly three hours and felt like a mix of modernity and tradition. Some people wore traditional attire, while others were dressed in a very modern way. What really stood out was the overwhelming support from students and young people, which gave the whole event a very energetic and hopeful vibe.

demands

Love

When we reached Jantar Mantar, there were speeches by social workers, organizers, and participants. A large organization called NAPM also joined this year and openly declared their support for the LGBT community. Since NAPM works on several important issues across India, their involvement could really bring meaningful change in society. This was personally encouraging for me because I have been planning to organize a pride parade in Varanasi, and NAPM’s support would make a huge difference. I already know one of their state conveners in Uttar Pradesh, Nandlal Master, and it was inspiring to see the organization get involved.

participants

Support

Many of the speeches focused on discrimination faced by the LGBT community. Some participants even came on stage wearing masks, but once they felt the support of the crowd, they removed their masks and proudly revealed their identities. They said the parade gave them confidence to no longer hide their sexuality. It was a very emotional and powerful moment. The event concluded with a candlelight gathering, which gave the whole day a beautiful ending. Afterwards, people were talking about post-pride parties happening across the city. Because the number of participants was larger this year, several different parties were organized at multiple locations, some paid and some free.

family

Definitely

I asked around and got a few different addresses, which clearly showed how big the event had become. I went home, got ready, and later headed to a club near Qutub Minar for one of the parties. However, only those who had received an official SMS invitation were being allowed entry. I explained to the security guard that I had come from Varanasi and had already been in touch with the organizers, but they still refused. Eventually, I met one of the organizers outside the club who arranged for me to be taken inside. The rooftop party was lively, with music, drinks, and food, though extremely expensive. A small beer that usually costs Rs. 50 in the market was being sold for Rs. 600, and even the cheapest whiskey shots cost the same. Still, we managed to enjoy ourselves. My friends, especially Ravikant, were shocked but also fascinated by the whole experience.

definitely

Participants

Suddenly, the police showed up and ordered the DJ to stop the music. In India, loud music at public places is not allowed after 10 PM, and the police were not ready to compromise. The organizers tried to negotiate, but nothing worked. The party was shut down and we were asked to leave immediately.I was a bit disappointed because post-pride parties are usually very different from regular parties and I enjoy them a lot, but this time I could not. Still, I have no regrets. I was happy that I got to attend the parade, experience the energy, and learn from it. It was a meaningful and memorable day.

I hope to attend Delhi Pride again next year.

love

Life has no value in India

A Shocking Incident at BHU

Yesterday, I witnessed something truly inhuman and shocking at BHU. I have already had many bad experiences with BHU, but what I saw this time left me speechless. I had gone to the Institute of Medical Sciences (IMS) at BHU. After parking my bike, I noticed a group of people standing near the main gate of the IMS building. It seemed unusual, since security usually does not allow public gatherings there. Curious, I went closer and found that an injured and unconscious man—almost on the verge of death—was lying on the ground.

He had injuries on his face and, from what people were saying, he might have also suffered an epileptic attack. I overheard that someone had beaten him. At least ten people stood around, but nobody was willing to take him to the hospital. They said they had already informed the police and would wait for them to arrive. What shocked me even more was that, despite being inside a medical institute, with doctors constantly passing by, not a single doctor stopped to help him. This was happening in the premises of one of India’s best-known medical colleges, a place respected worldwide.

Eventually, the police arrived. They asked a few questions but seemed completely uninterested in helping. Two policemen sat casually on their bike, laughing and chatting, right next to this dying man. A few minutes later, one of them walked over and half-heartedly tried to wake him up. Instead of calling for medical help, they nudged him with their feet and even dragged him on the road, hoping he would somehow get up. But he couldn’t—he was in no condition to move. Finally, the police just left, doing nothing.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Here was a man in urgent need of medical assistance, lying inside the premises of a premier medical college of India, yet doctors, police, and bystanders all ignored him. Eventually, two students came with a first aid box, but they were not doctors, and the man clearly needed far more than first aid. They too said they would first inform the police before helping, because they didn’t feel safe intervening without police approval. Then I learned the reason why everyone was hesitating—people said this man was a thief, caught trying to steal something from the IMS building. Maybe that was true, maybe not.

But even if he was a thief, did he not deserve basic medical treatment? A human life was at risk. It was cruel beyond words. In our country, we spend over ₹8,00,500 per day to keep Ajmal Kasab—the terrorist who killed hundreds of people at the Taj—alive in jail. Yet here, in one of our best medical institutions, a man possibly dying in front of doctors and police was denied even basic first aid, just because he was accused of being a thief. What I saw was heartbreaking and inhuman. I have no words strong enough to describe the cruelty and indifference I witnessed yesterday.

child sponsorship in varanasi

ChanceIndia Education Program

It has been more than seven months since we started the ChanceIndia Education Program, and I am so happy to share that we now have almost 40 supporters and are sending 43 underprivileged children to school. When Attila and I first planned this program, we were only hoping to find 10–15 sponsors. That’s why we initially selected only 20 children. But then Attila received an amazing response in Hungary. He gave interviews on radio stations, TV channels, and newspapers, and also did several presentations about the program. Through his efforts, he brought in almost 30 supporters.

Honestly, I was not expecting so many sponsors since, in the beginning, we didn’t have much to show. Fortunately, people responded with incredible trust and generosity. Out of the 43 children, 23 come from village areas where we are working with Lok Samiti, and the remaining 20 are from Varanasi city. What makes this program very special is that it has 0% management cost—every rupee goes directly to the children. When Attila needed an assistant, we hired someone, but Attila personally pays his salary from his own pocket, not from the ChanceIndia account. This truly shows his dedication. Both Attila and Dora work so hard for the program and are always looking for opportunities to support the children.

Dora travels to Mehdiganj three times a week to teach English to the village children, and she also teaches three classes every week here in Varanasi. They even hired a computer teacher for the village kids. Initially, Attila wanted to teach computers himself, but he realized the children were struggling with the language barrier, so a local teacher was a better solution. One of the best ideas, in my opinion, is that all financial transactions are published on ChanceIndia’s website, which creates complete transparency. We also have volunteers regularly working with the kids, giving them more chances to practice English, which I am sure will help them a lot in the future.

I truly hope this program continues to grow and succeeds in making a big difference for the community.

Commonwealth Games 2010, New Delhi

The Commonwealth Games Mess in Delhi

India was so excited about the Commonwealth Games in New Delhi. We had been preparing for years, and the government kept making big promises: huge revenue, a boost in tourism, and international recognition. All of that could have been true — if we had organized the event properly. But because of corruption and mismanagement, the reality turned out to be the complete opposite. Instead of gains, we lost billions of rupees, tourism numbers actually fell, and India’s reputation suffered badly across the world.

I was always doubtful whether we were truly ready to host such a huge international event, and I had a feeling it was going to end badly. Sadly, I was right. Just days before the Games began, a newly constructed footbridge for visitors collapsed. How could this even happen? And then, instead of taking responsibility, Delhi Chief Minister Sheila Dixit casually remarked that “fortunately no foreigners were on the bridge when it collapsed.” What kind of logic is that? Does it mean the lives of Indians don’t matter? The government had originally announced that the budget for the Games would be around ₹16.2 billion ($365 million). By the end, the cost had skyrocketed to over ₹300 billion ($2.6 billion).

Where did all that money go? The answer is obvious: corruption. I am sure that officials and contractors involved in the Games pocketed most of it. The scandals were endless. Tickets were hoarded, waiting for international visitors to buy them, but when hardly anyone came, the organizers ended up distributing tickets for free to schoolchildren — just to make the stadiums look full. The Games Village, which was supposed to showcase India’s hospitality, became an international embarrassment. Reports came in that rooms had leaking roofs, broken beds, filthy toilets, stray dogs wandering around, and even cobra snakes found inside. What kind of preparation was this?

When I was doing my tour guide training in Gwalior last year, we were repeatedly told by professors and officials from the tourism ministry that the Commonwealth Games would bring a wave of tourists, and that’s why we needed to be prepared to work extra hard. In reality, not even the usual number of foreign tourists came. Global headlines were dominated by stories of corruption, poor facilities, collapsing structures, and weak security. Naturally, no one wanted to travel here for the Games.

The most shocking incident was when an Australian journalist managed to walk into the Games Village with a mock bomb in his bag — and nobody checked him. Can you imagine what could have happened if it had been real? That was the level of our security arrangements. The anger of the Indian public was clear when Suresh Kalmadi, the main organizer of the Games, was openly booed during the inauguration ceremony. That moment said it all — people were fed up.

I only hope the government learned its lesson from this disaster. Personally, I don’t think India should even think about hosting another mega-event like the Commonwealth Games in the near future. But then again, the real question remains: does our government ever learn from its mistakes?

Ayodhya court decision

Ayodhya, Ayodhya, Ayodhya…

I think this is the most popular word in India these days. Everyone was talking about the High Court’s decision on the Babri Mosque demolition case. This mosque was destroyed by a group of Hindus on 6th December 1992, and since then the case had been pending in the Allahabad High Court. The entire country was waiting with both excitement and fear. In Varanasi, where police are rarely seen on normal days, the streets were suddenly filled with security forces. Army personnel were stationed everywhere, and helicopters circled above. The atmosphere was tense and frightening, as people feared possible riots after the verdict.

Finally, the decision came. The court attempted to strike a balance — trying to make both Hindus and Muslims happy. But Muslims were clearly dissatisfied and immediately decided to challenge the verdict in the Supreme Court of India. Of course, everyone already knew that whichever side lost in the High Court would appeal to the Supreme Court, but it was still surprising to see political leaders who had been urging the public to “respect the verdict” suddenly turn angry themselves when the judgment didn’t align with their expectations.

I spoke to a Muslim acquaintance about his views. He said Muslims felt deeply hurt and disappointed. According to him, the High Court had treated them “like beggars” by giving them only a small portion of the land, even though they believe the entire disputed site rightfully belonged to them. I personally disagreed with this view, because history shows that there was once a Ram temple at the site, which was demolished by Babur. For the sake of harmony and unity, I feel Muslims should also acknowledge this and accept the land they were allotted.

In fact, if we look at it strictly from Islamic principles, the Babri mosque should not have been considered a legitimate mosque at all. Islam clearly states that no mosque built by destroying a sacred site of another religion can be considered a mosque. This means the Babri mosque was invalid from the beginning. And above all, that land is believed to be the birthplace of Lord Rama — one of the most sacred places for Hindus, perhaps the most sacred in all of India. For Muslims, the Babri mosque was neither historically important nor religiously unique. So why be so unhappy?

I am certain that Hindus would never compromise on this site, and Muslims too should reflect on its importance. Thankfully, the most positive outcome of the verdict was that no riots broke out this time. In 1992, hundreds of people lost their lives, and in subsequent years the anniversary often brought violence. But by God’s grace, this time it passed peacefully, even though emotions were high. It seems that the younger generation of Hindus is less invested in this dispute than before, but the worry lies with some Muslim groups.

Islam divides the world into Muslims and non-Muslims (Kafirs). It also considers idol worship to be Haram (forbidden), which makes it hard for Muslims to sympathize with Hindu temples. Many even know that the Babri mosque was built by demolishing a Hindu temple, yet they would never support the Hindu claim. Some even feel pride in the fact that invaders destroyed Hindu temples and converted Hindus to Islam.

I find it strange and troubling that many Muslims in India connect themselves with those invaders, even regarding them as their ancestors. This mindset is dangerous. India is the second-largest Muslim-majority country in the world, and if a section of its population begins to see itself as aligned with invaders rather than with India itself, then one day this mentality could do serious harm to the country.

Caste system in India

Casteism in Modern India: A Personal Reflection

Casteism has always been a big issue in India. Originally, the caste system was designed as a way to organize society, based on profession rather than birth. It wasn’t meant to divide people permanently. In fact, in the past, caste was flexible — if someone changed their profession, their caste also changed. But over time, people with power altered the system for their own benefit, and now a person’s caste is decided entirely by the caste of their parents. Once you are born a Brahmin, you remain a Brahmin forever, no matter your work or life choices.

Traditionally, different castes had specific roles: Kshatriyas were warriors and rulers, Brahmins were scholars and priests, Vaishyas were traders, and Shudras worked in service professions and farming. In the earliest system, this arrangement was functional and not necessarily oppressive. But the distortion began when kings and higher-caste elites realized that if their children chose different professions, they could lose their social power. To protect their dominance, they declared that caste would be hereditary — fixed by birth. This was the beginning of the rigid, unequal caste hierarchy that continues today.

I was born a Brahmin, but my profession is completely different. By the original rules, I should not be treated as a Brahmin at all — yet society still labels me that way. Honestly, it doesn’t offend me; in fact, I sometimes enjoy the benefits of belonging to a higher caste. But when I think of those born into lower castes, I feel disturbed. Even today, many people who have transformed their lives through education or good jobs are still judged by their caste rather than their achievements.

The reality is harsh: wealth can often protect lower-caste individuals from discrimination, but poverty leaves them exposed to the worst of caste-based cruelty. For example, the former Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh, a Dalit woman, rose to power and commanded respect from people who would never dare to mistreat her publicly. Yet at the village level, Dalits still face exclusion from public services, discrimination in schools, and social humiliation.

One group I learned about deeply is the Doam community, whose traditional role is helping with cremations. I worked with them three years ago and saw firsthand how badly they are treated. They are considered “untouchable” in society — denied access to common wells, pumps, and even schools. Nobody will accept food or water touched by them. But when I studied Hindu traditions more closely, I realized this stigma is a complete distortion. Hinduism does describe temporary ritual impurity — for example, anyone who attends a funeral becomes untouchable until they bathe. I have experienced this myself many times. But by that logic, Doms should only be untouchable while performing cremation duties — not permanently. Society has twisted this practice into something cruel and irrational.

The cruelty sometimes reaches shocking levels. On 24 September 2010, I read an article in Amar Ujala about a Dalit woman who offered a roti to a dog. The dog’s owner, a Yadav man, became furious and declared his dog “untouchable” because it had eaten food from a Dalit’s hand. A Panchayat meeting was called, and unbelievably, they ruled that the woman had to take ownership of the dog and pay a fine of ₹15,000 to the owner. How could a poor woman afford that? And how could a Panchayat — a government-recognized body with legal power — make such a decision in the first place?

Even worse, when the woman went to file a complaint at the police station, the officers refused to register it and instead scolded her for feeding the dog. She went to the DIG and again her complaint was ignored. Only when she approached the SC/ST DSP office was the case registered — and I am almost certain no real action will be taken. At best, they might hush it up because the media got involved.

Incidents like this shake me. Are we really living in the 21st century India we are so proud of? Is this the same India we call the world’s fastest-growing economy, a rising superpower? Is this the same land of Lord Rama, who lovingly ate food offered by Sabari, a woman from an “untouchable” caste, or bowed to a boatman from a so-called lower community?

Sometimes, it feels like we are stuck in two worlds — one that dreams of becoming a global power, and another that refuses to let go of ancient prejudices.

Times of India also reported this news.

Scanned article of Amar Ujala Hindi newspaper. 24/09/10

Pending cases at Indian Judicial courts

The Never-Ending Wait in Indian Courts

Many Indians often talk about our lazy and corrupt court system — and I count myself among them. Personally, I hate getting involved in any kind of court activity. Sadly, it is not just a feeling; the numbers prove it. India has the highest number of pending legal cases in the world — more than 30 million cases are stuck in our courts. To make things worse, the average time to resolve a case is about 15 years, and sometimes even longer.

Think about it: a generation can pass before a verdict comes. Families break apart, people die waiting for justice, and in the end, the judgment often doesn’t serve much purpose because the damage is already done. The saying “Justice delayed is justice denied” could not be truer than in India. Many poor people simply give up because they cannot afford the endless lawyer fees and court dates. And for those who keep fighting, the system itself drains them — emotionally, financially, and mentally.

Recently, my friend Ravi, who completed his law degree and is now a registered lawyer, sent me a poem about Indian courts. The poem describes exactly what happens in our system — the endless adjournments, the clerks, the long queues, the confusion — and ultimately warns that one should do anything, absolutely anything, but never go to court.

I believe this is true. The poem was written by Mr. Kailash Gautam from Allahabad, and Ravi, as a lawyer himself, resonates deeply with its message. Even those who are supposed to work within the system admit that it is broken. Until we fix the root problems — lack of judges, corruption, outdated processes — justice will remain a dream for millions of Indians.

भले डांट घर में तू बीबी की खाना, भले जैसे -तैसे गिरस्ती चलाना
भले जा के जंगल में धूनी रमाना,मगर मेरे बेटे कचहरी न जाना
कचहरी न जाना- कचहरी न जाना.
कचहरी हमारी तुम्हारी नहीं है,कहीं से कोई रिश्तेदारी नहीं है
अहलमद से भी कोरी यारी नहीं है, तिवारी था पहले तिवारी नहीं है
कचहरी की महिमा निराली है बेटे, कचहरी वकीलों की थाली है बेटे
पुलिस के लिए छोटी साली है बेटे, यहाँ पैरवी अब दलाली है बेटे
कचहरी ही गुंडों की खेती है बेटे, यही जिन्दगी उनको देती है बेटे
खुले आम कातिल यहाँ घूमते हैं, सिपाही दरोगा चरण चुमतें है
कचहरी में सच की बड़ी दुर्दशा है, भला आदमी किस तरह से फंसा है
यहाँ झूठ की ही कमाई है बेटे, यहाँ झूठ का रेट हाई है बेटे
कचहरी का मारा कचहरी में भागे, कचहरी में सोये कचहरी में जागे
मर जी रहा है गवाही में ऐसे, है तांबे का हंडा सुराही में जैसे
लगाते-बुझाते सिखाते मिलेंगे, हथेली पे सरसों उगाते मिलेंगे
कचहरी तो बेवा का तन देखती है, कहाँ से खुलेगा बटन देखती है
कचहरी शरीफों की खातिर नहीं है, उसी की कसम लो जो हाज़िर नहीं है
है बासी मुहं घर से बुलाती कचहरी, बुलाकर के दिन भर रुलाती कचहरी
मुकदमें की फाइल दबाती कचहरी, हमेशा नया गुल खिलाती कचहरी
कचहरी का पानी जहर से भरा है, कचहरी के नल पर मुवक्किल मरा है
मुकदमा बहुत पैसा खाता है बेटे, मेरे जैसा कैसे निभाता है बेटे
दलालों नें घेरा सुझाया -बुझाया, वकीलों नें हाकिम से सटकर दिखाया
धनुष हो गया हूँ मैं टूटा नहीं हूँ, मैं मुट्ठी हूँ केवल अंगूंठा नहीं हूँ
नहीं कर सका मैं मुकदमें का सौदा, जहाँ था करौदा वहीं है करौदा
कचहरी का पानी कचहरी का दाना, तुम्हे लग न जाये तू बचना बचाना
भले और कोई मुसीबत बुलाना, कचहरी की नौबत कभी घर न लाना
कभी भूल कर भी न आँखें उठाना, न आँखें उठाना न गर्दन फसाना
जहाँ पांडवों को नरक है कचहरी, वहीं कौरवों को सरग है कचहरी ||

 

Quran Burning in United States

Quran burning has been in the news worldwide lately, and I was genuinely concerned about the potential consequences. I strongly oppose such acts. While I recognize that there are serious issues within the Quran, including instructions that promote violence against non-believers, these cannot be tolerated in a civilized society. Instead of burning the book, I believe people should engage in open debates and discussions. If anything is found to be problematic, it should be either removed or the book should be banned altogether. Burning it will not lead to any positive outcomes. Anyway, I came across a hilarious remix video about the issue that relieved my tension and brought me some joy. 🙂