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Videos by BS Murthy

Whereas Mahabharata's Bhagvad-Gita is taken as a philosophical guide, Ramayana's Sundara Kãnda is... more Whereas Mahabharata's Bhagvad-Gita is taken as a philosophical guide, Ramayana's Sundara Kãnda is sought for spiritual solace; many believe that reading it or hearing it recited would remove all hurdles and usher in good tidings! Miracles apart, it's in the nature of this great epic to inculcate fortitude and generate hope in man for it’s a depiction of how Hanuman goes about his errand against all odds.
Besides, it portrays how Seetha, on the verge of self-immolation, overcomes despair to see life in a new light? With rhythm of its verse and the flow of the narrative this sloka to sloka transcreation of the canto beautiful of Valmiki's adi kavya - the foremost poetical composition in the world, Hanuman's Odyssey that paves the way for Rama to rescue his kidnapped wife is bound to charm the readers and listeners alike.

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Bhagavad-Gita is the most beautiful, perhaps the only true philosophical song existing in any kno... more Bhagavad-Gita is the most beautiful, perhaps the only true philosophical song existing in any known tongue’ – so opined William von Humboldt.
Though it is a matter of consensus that the Gita in the present length of seven hundred slokas has many an interpolation to it, but no meaningful attempt has ever been made to delve into the nature and extent, not to speak of the effect of these on the Hindu society at large.
The methodical codification of interpolations carried out here, for the first time ever, puts the true character of Gita in proper perspective.
In this modern rendition, the beauty of the Sanskrit slokas is reflected in the rhythmic flow of the English verse of poetic proportions even as the attendant philosophy of the song that is the Bhagvad-Gita is captured in contemporary idiom for easy comprehension.
Access the ebook https://www.academia.edu/21433459/Bhagvad_Gita_Treatise_of_Self_help

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Papers by BS Murthy

After letting me pen over a score of articles, though my muse prompted me to enter into the aren... more After letting me pen over a score of articles, though my muse prompted me to enter into the arena of fiction, yet it made me struggle to come up with the opening lines of my maiden novel for over ten days or so before “That winter night in the mid-seventies, the Janata Express was racing rhythmically on its tracks towards the coast of Andhra Pradesh. As its headlight pierced the darkness of the fertile plains, the driver honked the horn as though to awake the sleepy environs to the spectacle of the speeding train. On that, in the S-3, were the Ramaiahs with their nine year-old daughter Roopa.”

But then “the train stopped at a village station, as though to disrupt Roopa’s daydreams of modeling herself on the lady doctor at the Christian Medical College Hospital, and as she peeped out, the ill-lit platform seemed to suggest that the chances of her being
Dr. Roopa could be but dim.”

Being in the seventy-fifth year of our republic, it is imperative that WE THE PEOPLE OF INDIA mus... more Being in the seventy-fifth year of our republic, it is imperative that WE THE PEOPLE OF INDIA must evaluate THOSE PEOPLE OF INDIA, who had adopted our constitution. But to put things into perspective, who 'We' are need to be ascertained for the constitution, instead of forging India into an unified nation, turned it into a conglomeration of disparate entities, though by then, Gurajada had famously stated that 'it's not the soil but its people that make a country' (desamante mattikadoi, desamante manushuloi). So, given that the Hindu majority is 'the other' for the Muslim minority, the raison d'être for India's partition on the Islamic lines and as the evangelists are ever engaged in harvesting the 'heathen' Hindu souls for their Christian salvation, effectually in the Indian socio-political context, 'We' are the Hindus, then as well as now.

While a conflict of interest, be it in life or in fiction, can bring about selfintrospection, str... more While a conflict of interest, be it in life or in fiction, can bring about selfintrospection, strange though it may seem, a casual encounter could lead to selfdiscovery. So it happened with me in the wake of my rebuff to a dogged tempter, "money is not my weakness" and his "what is your weakness" repartee; for the record, either I had been a straight purchase officer or a strict loss assessor, occupations amenable to monetary mischief.

No mistaking it, in India's socio-religious turf, caste is the divisive creed of the Hindus, larg... more No mistaking it, in India's socio-religious turf, caste is the divisive creed of the Hindus, largely immune to the cultural credo of the Hindutva, formulated by Savarkar, which diminishes their demographic strength in its electoral arena, comprising of non-Hindus in considerable numbers, who, in stark contrast, are religiously cohesive and politically emotive, particularly against the Hindu nationalists. But the lazy explanation offered by some for the lack of Hindu communal coherence, though historically they have been under the Semitic threat, is that unlike those faiths, Sanatana dharma, Sanatana for short labeled as Hinduism, is not a dogma of faith but a way of life, which is not as straightjacketed as that. Whatever, with no sense of foreboding about things in the offing that is in spite of the unmistakable Semitic signals, as the addicts of the caste politicking remain skeptical about the overall political significance of the Hindutva in maintaining the Indian status quo in the long run, pitching for the same as the preservative of their caste identities and interests that are dearer to their hearts above all else, is vital for India's national integrity. No denying that Sanatana, evolved in the ancient Arya Varta, from esoteric ideas, such as-narō nārayana (man is God) and vasudhaiva kutumbakam (holds world all in one household)-envisaging a lofty society with varna vyavastha based on varnāshrama dharma (occupation-oriented caste grouping) with swadharma (caste code of conduct) unique to each varna long got distorted beyond recognition. Maybe it was because, while its spiritual focus is on the self, aham brahmasmi (I'm the Spirit) obviated the Semitic need of One God to obey and One Book to revere (as in the tailpiece), its eclectic

In that televised press meet to 'accept people's verdict' in 2014-44 seats, down from 206 in 2009... more In that televised press meet to 'accept people's verdict' in 2014-44 seats, down from 206 in 2009-while Sonia looked crestfallen and her daughter Priyanka appeared gloomy, the real 'loser' Rahul seemed unconcerned. But still, even as he took the mike after his mother has done with it, she not only peremptorily stopped him from speaking but also pulled him by his hand signaling their exit. While the entire nation saw the mawkish 44 yearold meekly submitting to his haughty mother, none, as Sherlock Holmes would have put it, had 'observed' the abnormality of his personality.

Novel travails of Writers

Of all the aspects of the Indian public sector nothing is more time consuming and ill-planed than... more Of all the aspects of the Indian public sector nothing is more time consuming and ill-planed than data generation, both for internal record and external justification, let alone managerial control. If one were to judge the degree of managerial professionalism by the amount and degree of data it generates, then the public sector managements should win hands down. Data that are relevant and not so relevant, about every conceivable aspect of the organizational functioning, is scrupulously generated and reported to a number of monitoring agencies within and outside the organization, at periodic intervals. It is another matter how far this mountainous information is used.

Unmindful of the old adage, when you point a finger at someone else, there are three pointing bac... more Unmindful of the old adage, when you point a finger at someone else, there are three pointing back to you, Udhayanidhi, the Christian son of the atheist Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu, MK Stalin and his devout Hindu wife, had raged an unseemly controversy through his clarion call for the eradication of sanatana dharma aka Hinduism that he likened to dengue, malaria and corona. It is another matter though that he has no issues with the ethics of the Christianity that required him to get baptized into its fold to wed his believing beloved. Be that as it may, his closet Christian party colleague A. Raja pitched in with AIDS and leprosy tags to picture Hinduism as a menace to the world at large for it is a synonym of casteism. But who were to ask the Indian Church as to why it won't deem encouraging Crypto-Christianity, which is the secret practice of Christianity, in places and time periods where Christians were persecuted or Christianity was outlawed, as a fraud in the secular Bharat, whose constitution naively grants its citizens, read Christians and Muslims, the right to propagate their faith, which is but the license to convert the gullible Hindus. Likewise, who were to question the morality of the closet Christians, who allegedly follow the teaching of Jesus and yet have no compunction in hiding their changed faith to fool the public and deceive the State to derive undue benefits to gain illegally? That the Church is hands in glove with this duplicitous evangelical ways is of no credit either to their God or His Son is somehow lost on the born-again Christians as well as the eager converts. In so far as the caste in the Christianity is concerned, the segregated Churches stand tall to testify the same. That being the Indian Christian reality, there's no gainsaying for the dalits to embrace the alien faith on the sly but yet the onus is on the Hindu samaaj to make them feel at home in the Sanatana tent.

When Hindustan was partitioned on the basis of the Hindu-Muslim religious divide, pragmatism woul... more When Hindustan was partitioned on the basis of the Hindu-Muslim religious divide, pragmatism would have demanded, as proposed by Dr. BR Ambedkar, the latter-day architect of the Indian Constitution, to affect population exchange on communal lines between the successor countries, India and Pakistan. More so, as Ambedkar backed his proposition with the exposition of the Islamic ethos and the Muslim psyche thus: "The brotherhood of Islam is not the universal brotherhood of man. It is the brotherhood of Muslims for Muslims only. There is a fraternity, but its benefit is confined to those within that corporation. For those who are outside the corporation, there is nothing but contempt and enmity. The second defect of Islam is that it is a system of social self-government and is incompatible with local self-government because the allegiance of a Muslim does not rest on his domicile in the country which is his but on the faith to which he belongs. To the Muslim ibi bene ibi patria is unthinkable. Wherever there is the rule of Islam, there is his own country. In other words, Islam can never allow a true Muslim to adopt India as his motherland and regard a Hindu as his kith and kin."

Addressing a gathering at Ravidas Jayanti in Mumbai recently, Dr. Mohan Bhagwat, the Sarsanghchal... more Addressing a gathering at Ravidas Jayanti in Mumbai recently, Dr. Mohan Bhagwat, the Sarsanghchalak of Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), as cited in the Organiser, dateline Feb 6, 2023, has said-"To our Creator, we are equal. There is no caste or sect. If some pundits citing scriptures are talking about caste-based discrimination, then it is false. .. We are confused in the whirlpool of the concept of caste and caste hierarchy. This confusion has to be removed."

None knows when Manu Smriti had its last sway, if at all, over the Indian polity but still the Hi... more None knows when Manu Smriti had its last sway, if at all, over the Indian polity but still the Hindu castes that it slighted lazily hold it against the Brahmins that it once exalted, and ominously, the evangelists cynically bash Hinduism with it to lure the former into their Semitic fold. However, this essay is not an exercise to endorse the extinct Smriti per se but an attempt to expose the perceptive vacuity and the intellectual dishonesty, as the case may be, of its debunkers.

The irony of the alleged lack of free speech in Modi India lies in the absolute freedom of its un... more The irony of the alleged lack of free speech in Modi India lies in the absolute freedom of its uninhibited propagation in its subsidiary media. In so far as the right-wing blowback in the social media, the left-libs fall short on the idiom that 'people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones'. When it comes to the 'agencies' knocking at free speakers' doors, the legal dictum paraphrased as 'one must go to town with clean hands' has to be borne in mind by one and all. Be that as it may, it's not as if it was all hunky-dory in the Nehruvian order of yore that nurtured the Modi-aggrieved of the day, and this is not an essay of its dark shades but an attempt to reach the roots of the self-defeating Hindu mindset, passing through my life and times.

When I thought I am done with the study of interpolations in the Gita after my critique, Inane In... more When I thought I am done with the study of interpolations in the Gita after my critique, Inane Interpolations in Bhagvad-Gita (An Invocation for their Revocation) I was tempted to turn my attention to the seldom read but much maligned Manu Smriti*. While I found that that testament is Incongruent and its motivated castigation is nothing but flogging a dead horse riding a blind donkey (an eponymous essay is due on this aspect), nevertheless, I could discern Manu's shadow on the Gita's path that is sought to be placed here for a public view.

When we (Bannu, nee, Rohini, and I) became schoolmates, we were barely ten and now as we are seve... more When we (Bannu, nee, Rohini, and I) became schoolmates, we were barely ten and now as we are seventy plus, he seeks to record his questful journey as a painter to which, by and large, I was privy to. It seems as if life, at the dictates of destiny, had shaped his creative instincts in the mould of applied art, though without robbing him of the artistic impulses of his genes. Now, urged by his artistic impulses to pass through the pathless woods as he sets on a new artistic plane, here I seek to set his biographic course in an auto-biographic mode.

The so-called marital rape, the act of sexual intercourse with one's spouse, which in popular par... more The so-called marital rape, the act of sexual intercourse with one's spouse, which in popular parlance is without wife's consent, has to be contextualized with conjugal rights, 'especially to sexual relations, regarded as exercisable in law by each partner in a marriage'.

No less than Narendra Modi, India's erudite prime minister, had attributed the selfdisparaging In... more No less than Narendra Modi, India's erudite prime minister, had attributed the selfdisparaging Indian character to its thousand years of slavery, that too on the floor of the Indian parliament. And it's no wonder that Asaduddin Owaisi, the Islamist revivalist in the Indian remnant, promptly contested the said proposition. Needless to say, while Modi echoed the lament of the Hindu nationalists, albeit in a politically correct vocabulary, Owaisi sees the Muslim invasion of Hindustan through the prism of eight-hundred years of Islamic hukummat over the same. Whatever, a critical examination of India's Islamic history, even the one dished out by its Muslim overlords, and an objective analysis of its socio-cultural construct therein would belie the supposition that Hindus were forced into slavery in any which way. No doubt, when the Islamic marauders eyed it for loot and rapine, India was long since the home to the Nalandas and the Takshasilas, the Ivys of yore, and it was also the world's largest economy with some thirty-percent share of its gross domestic product. Thus, it's as if India then was the crown of the creation, adorned with Hindu jewels, and that being the case, maybe the Hindus of that time were justified to feel top-of-the-world, like the Americans of the day do. So, that's exactly what they felt like, and we have Aberuni's testimony for that In his eponymous book on India of around 1030CE. "… the Hindus believe that there is no country but theirs, no nation like theirs, no kings like theirs, no religion like theirs, no science like theirs."

So to say, the Macaulay Minute with Maulana’s add-ons thus shaped the fake Nehruvian ‘Idea of Ind... more So to say, the Macaulay Minute with Maulana’s add-ons thus shaped the fake Nehruvian ‘Idea of India’ based on the perverse narrative of tolerance of the intolerant and intolerance of the tolerant, which insensibly afflicted the Hindu mindset and the thought process in every sphere of India’s intellectual activity.
What’s worse, in a continuing saga, the Hindus of the day too remain unmindful of the inimical demographic designs of the Islamists and the evangelicals alike in their land that would portend its geographical doom should baffle the historians and the laymen alike. So this exercise is to decipher the peculiarity of the suicidal Hindu mindset that set India on its ruinous course, and continues to do so.

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Novel travails of Writers

When the Semitic free run on the Hindu turf under Sonia’s proxy watch ended with the ascent of Na... more When the Semitic free run on the Hindu turf under Sonia’s proxy watch ended with the ascent of Narendra Modi onto the Delhi gaddi, the Indian agendas of the Christian west and the Muslim umma faced impediments resulting in the brouhaha over the growing religious intolerance of Hindus towards India’s minorities. Given the racial biases and the religious prejudices of both against the Hindus and that the world media, by and large is controlled by them, a critical appraisal of their propaganda with objective lenses is called for.
Hence, as the accusation is on the religious ground, it is imperative that the theocratic credos of Islam and Christianity as well as the philosophical ethos of santana dharma aka Hinduism, the only surviving ‘way of life’ of yore on earth, are to be reckoned with.

Then Modi, on the anti-graft and the national security planks, arrived to wrest the decade-long p... more Then Modi, on the anti-graft and the national security planks, arrived to wrest the decade-long power from her by busting her anti-national political gang at the hustings. Backed by the public mandate, he set out to do what he could do in his first term to reverse the ant-Hindu gear in the hostile eco-system hitherto nursed by the Nehruvian cliché. So, the sight of him unfurling the Indian tricolor from the ramparts of the Mogul built Red Fort in Maharaja’s headgear was an eyesore to the Muslim Indians though they got their Pakistan all for Islam. Maybe no blaming them for the avowed goal of Islam is to make the whole world Muslim, and any way they make no secret of it though the others, more so the Hindus, pay no heed to it that is despite the unerring sound of the Ghazwa-e-Hind call in their ears. Be that as it may, at the next outing, the limited Hindu pride that his persona and policy ensued enabled him to trump the sham secularists despite their wont to foster the minority vote on religious grounds and their penchant to fester the majority franchise on the caste lines. Needles to say, to his credit, he has been trying to accelerate the vehicle of change on the Indian secular road that, however, is too bumpy for its facilitation.

Cingireddi Narayana Reddy (29 July 1931 – 12 June 2017) was an Indian Telugu-language poet and writer. Reddy had produced over eighty literary works including poems, prose-plays, lyrical plays, translations, and ghazals. He was also a professor, lyricist, actor, and Rajya Sabha politician. Reddy was awarded the Jnānpēth Award by the government of India in 1988, and he served as the Vice Chancellor of Telugu University.

Self Imprint, 2021

Why is This Book Now? The Manusmriti, the social doctrine of yore, and the Bhagvad-Gita, the spir... more Why is This Book Now?
The Manusmriti, the social doctrine of yore, and the Bhagvad-Gita, the spiritual tome in vogue that lay down the discriminatory dharma (duties) of the four social classes (castes) have been the bugbears of the Hindu backward classes. However, to their chagrin, of late, as the latter is being mindlessly promoted even though the former was constitutionally debunked, they began advocating that it too should be dumped in a dustbin.
Ironically, the improbability of their progenitor Krishna, the architect of the Gita, relegating his own ilk to the social margins failed to dawn upon these that Gita supposedly slights, even to this day! Thus, their intellectuals, instead of seeking to reclaim their priceless heritage, albeit after ridding its interpolative garbage, tend to rubbish it a la throwing the baby with the bathwater, and needless to say they must ponder.
Also, it is high time that the Gita-class stop laying store by the self-aggrandizing verses in this Vyāsa’s classic, evidently inserted by their progenitors that came to bedevil the Hindu spiritual integrity and social harmony. Likewise, the grumblers of the dalit desertions must see the need for setting the Hindu house in order to prevent the fractious poaching by the Church, if not to facilitate the ‘hoped for’ return of the prodigals. So also those who take pride that Hinduism is the only religion that reckons all faith as true, should be concerned about the ‘in vogue’ Gita that belittles some of their caste fellows. Besides, this work beckons the feminists to reckon the second of the two interpolations from it cited in the cover image that degrades them in unspeakable terms.
This ‘overdue’ work, might lead the ‘denied’ Hindu castes as well as the favored folks for an objective approach to the in vogue Bhagvad-Gita which could dispel the misgivings of the former and the delusions of the latter, thereby bridging the Hindu emotional gulf with its abridged book that restores its original form. Whether or not one concurs with its propositions, this original work could be of interest to the students of logic and reasoning as well.
This work is dedicated to the slighted castes, whose forebear, Krishna, bestowed the invaluable Gita upon the mankind that in due course was fouled by the vested priestly interests:

ఈ 'తప్పటడుగులు' పెళ్లంటే బస్సులో హడావిడిగ జేబుఱుమాలు పరిచి సీట్ సొంతం చేసుగునే వ్యవహారం మాత్రమే.... more ఈ 'తప్పటడుగులు' పెళ్లంటే బస్సులో హడావిడిగ జేబుఱుమాలు పరిచి సీట్ సొంతం చేసుగునే వ్యవహారం మాత్రమే. తొలి ఆకర్షణే వివాహ యోగ్యo అనుకోవడం అవివేకం. శారీరికత మానసికతని అన్వయించిన పెళ్లిలోనే ప్రేమ బతికి బట్ట కడుతుంది. ఆ కలయికే డెస్టినీ.
This is BS Murthy's maiden writing in his mother tongue, whose body of literary work in English comprises of five novels (Benign Flame: Saga of Love, Jewel-less Crown: Saga of Life, Crossing the Mirage - Passing through youth, Glaring Shadow - A stream of consciousness novel 'n Prey on the Prowl - A Crime Novel), Of No Avail- Web of Wed Lock, a novella, a collection of short stories (Stories Vareid - A Book of Short Stories), a compendium of stage and radio plays (Onto the Stage - Slighted Souls and other stage and radio plays), a novel nonfiction (Puppets of Faith: Theory of Communal Strife) and two translations in verses (Bhagvad-Gita - Treatise of self-help 'n Sundara Kãnda - Hanuman’s Odyssey) that is in the public domain at various sites including this one.

Self Imprint, 2021

Lured by the pitch - All marriages are made in heaven but some are delayed on earth: We endeavor ... more Lured by the pitch - All marriages are made in heaven but some are delayed on earth: We endeavor to hasten them all - Priya goes to Renuka Marriage Bureau.
Scanning the prospects, when she spotted Venu, whom she slighted long ago, she rushes to him to bring about a dramatic encounter.
What brought about Priya’s change of heart to seek her former suitor and how Venu responds to his old flame’s fresh overtures lend suspense to their romance in this eclectic novella.

Where to look for the soul of India in print? Is it in the writings of those for whom the muse is... more Where to look for the soul of India in print? Is it in the writings of those for whom the muse is their mother tongue or those who happen to muse in the alien English? Where to savour the flavour of Indian life in fictional form? Is it in that 'stronger and more important body of work of Indian writers working in English' as trumpeted by Salman Rushdie or in the supposedly 'true to life' depictions (not the same thing as the examination of the human condition) on the variegate canvas of regional languages penned by the vernacular writers? And certainly it is an over kill on the part of the bhasha writers to suggest, as was done, that 'any Tamil writer would have put more life into his novels than Narayan did'. An Achilles-like abuse of Hector's body and literally it's like saying; 'I would have written your novel better had you given me the plot and all, soul included' Well, what it takes to be a writer and what's the utility of writing itself? Naturally, this should be the starting point of such a debate. If writing skills alone are sufficient to make a writer out of a man, wouldn't be many in a given language master them? But writing is all about giving expression to one's original ideas and a happy blend of the writing ability and the ability to think, never mind which is predominant, is what makes a writer. After all, if Flaubert embellished his thoughts with fluid French, the polish of the language did not back Voltair's profound intellect, but yet they both enriched the French literature. And surely some of the bhasha literature couldn't have been brought to the international attention because the flavour of the originals cannot be captured in English translations? But if not the beauty of the language, certainly the intellectual underpinnings of the writing shouldn't be beyond the capacity of a translator to transcend into English. The ultimate test of any writing would be its ability to influence social thinking to any degree. Wasn't Rousseau's Social Contract the harbinger of the French Revolution? What about Das Kapital that ushered in communism? Were not Tolstoy's writings that brought the serfdom to end in Russia? If not for Dostoyevsky's ingenuous arguments against the capital punishment, would have much of the world got rid of it? That none of them wrote in English and the translation of their works into it followed their regional fame should remove the misconception that writing in the regional languages is a handicap. Conceding that the lesser geniuses too are entitled to have a place under the universal English sun, what are the grounds then of the bhasha writers' claim to fame? That the human condition of the Indian society in their domain is still governed by age-old thinking, insulated from the nuances of human psychology, would expose their collective failure to modernize the mind-set of their readership and contribute to social change. It can be said with a measure of assurance that modernity of thought in our society wherever it is prevalent is owing to the exposure to the writings in English, not necessarily the Indian writing in English. That being the case, what benefit the English translation of the bhasha writings is going to have is any body's guess. It's nobody's case either that the Indians writing in English have made any profound difference, themselves

The tragic tale of Prince Andrei and Natasha Rostov that is the centerpiece of Tolstoy’s masterpi... more The tragic tale of Prince Andrei and Natasha Rostov that is the centerpiece of Tolstoy’s masterpiece is a brilliant depiction of the fallibility of life, sublimity of love and serenity in death. Andrei was a middle-aged widower and Natasha was still in her teens when love happened to them. While Natasha’s parents welcomed their romance, Andrei’s father was scornful about the match of that ‘chit of a girl’ from the family of no fortune or rank of consequence. However, he gives in subject to the condition that Andrei should put it off for a year and stay abroad during that period. “And then if your love or passion or obduracy – whatever you choose – is still as great, marry!” says the old man.

In his savage state, mere sounds could have been man’s communicative tools to vent out his raw fe... more In his savage state, mere sounds could have been man’s communicative tools to vent out his raw feelings, limited to such as hunger and anger and pain and pleasure. However, in time, as he managed to civilize himself in communes, he would have needed some vocabulary to synchronize the habitation therein. And in that lies the seeds of the tongues, which, when whetted by the tenor of the times, could have yielded the fruits of languages. But it was the character of life, as it evolved in a given commune that would have shaped the nuances of the words, leading to the evolution of languages with their unique characteristics of expression in personal interactions and public communions. While at some point, while it was the script that gave substance to the tongue, it was the word of mouth that incentivized the flowering of the art of expression. However, it was the advent of the printed word that turned out to be a boon as well as the bane of man’s art of arts.

When at length, Suresh was finding his moorings at Tihar; Subba Rau was brought in to a near stam... more When at length, Suresh was finding his moorings at Tihar; Subba Rau was brought in to a near stampede there. Why not, the whole nation knew him by then as the man who had pricked at the Premier's face. When Suresh enquired what the fuss was all about, Rau said it was but a 'literary coup'. Probed by Suresh for an account, Rau unfolded the story of his life and times as an unpublished writer. In his mid-forties, Rau was seized with an urge to bring himself onto the fictional stage. So to lend scope for his boundless creativity, he chose the vastness of the 'novel' as the setting. And for the medium of expression, he bypassed his mother tongue, Telugu, the Italian of the East. Instead, he chose English not only for its ability to nuance the complexities of life but also for the flair of expression he had in it. Drawing from his examined life, he set out to portray a young woman's life on the male canvas of India. Ironically, it was his love for language that impeded the start, but soon enough he got his poetic prose right for the narrative in mind. With his creativity in command over the unique plot he conceived, he wrote with gusto and had his dream novel for his debut in nine months flat. After toiling for a while, for that 'apart title', he pitched in for 'Tangent of Fate'. Then, with a top-of-the-world feeling, he dispatched the manuscript to a leading publisher in New Delhi. While he took the publisher for granted, he received his manuscript post-haste. And that made him see the irony of the title he had chosen for his novel! This bolt from the blue shook Rau to the core, and he came to doubt his abilities as a novelist. Thus, holding the manuscript, as one would his dead child, he had a last look at it, as the father would, before the burial. But seeing it as crisp on its return as it was when he had posted it, he felt cheated. As he realized that none at the publisher's end had an open mind, he saw the rejection letter all again. He felt sad at the ungracious averment of unsuitability on the designer letterhead. Impulsively, he felt like resubmitting the manuscript with a rejoinder that the concerned editor could take her own time to read and reject it, if it were a must. But, on second thoughts, he realized that it would be treated as sour grapes, and thus kept his own counsel. Anyway, he tried his luck with other Delhi publishers, this time, all at a time. To his distress, it was like the quote of a cartel: Read your manuscript with interest but found it unsuitable for our publication. As a last resort, in what was a reverse phenomenon, he looked Westward for salvation, only to be informed that unsolicited souls wouldn't be baptized there. Though he felt it was cruel, he thought it was an honest averment nevertheless. Could it be the unstated policy of the Delhi operatives as well, he suspected, but, couched by the pretentious unsuitability labels! To get a feel of the publishing scene back home, he pored over the periodicals and the newspaper supplements in right earnest. What amused as well as frustrated him was that while some publicized the published titles to the hilt, the others debunked them as junk in the reviews. Taking the reviewers seriously, he forwarded his manuscript to them, indicating that it had all the ingredients they believed a novel should have in it. And as none of them responded, he wondered whether the critics were more interested in condemning a work than commending any. And, to find the pulse of the Indian writing in English, he picked up some of the well-hyped novels. As he scanned through them one by one, he was amused to find the two basic features of the published kind: if it was not a case of the Western characters on the Indian stage, then it must be the Indian Diaspora in the Western setting. It appeared to him as though writing about the Indians in India was passé for the publishing world.

“Your interjections do inspire,” he said. “It’s the paradox of prostitution that man lets some wo... more “Your interjections do inspire,” he said. “It’s the paradox of prostitution that man lets some women have a free reign on sex so as to rein in the promiscuity in the rest of them. So, won’t the least sought-after of the whores outscore all the Casanovas of the world put together; well, that’s in the lighter vein, but it was that experience which made me realize that it was stupid to generalize the sex-workers; the harlots in the hell-holes of cities’ red-light districts are a pitiable lot of gullible girls and hapless women forced to cater to the ever growing demand for paid sex there. But thanks to the limited clientele in towns, the whores there can stave off the debilitating sexual burden their ilk in the cities have to bear, yet it’s the so-called call-girls that call the shots, more so, in metros; so all of them, being in the same calling are not on the same footing. If the vicissitudes of life push women into the vice-like grip of madam-pimp-police nexus of the flesh trade, then it’s the outcries of the moralists against legalizing prostitution that ensure their sexual slavery in abominable conditions; maybe, if only paid sex were to have a legal tag, then surely it would entail as fair deal as possible for these hapless women.”
“I hear it’s much worse in the U.S, where the pimps treat the prostitutes as vassals and abuse them in unimaginable ways.”

This short story “Love Jihad”, based on Madhuri Banerjee’s prompt[*] for Times of India’s Write I... more This short story “Love Jihad”, based on Madhuri Banerjee’s prompt[*] for Times of India’s Write India Initiative (2016), is excerpted from the author’s “Stories Varied – A Book of Short Stories”, a free ebook
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Syed and Gayatri didn’t mean to fall in love. But love happens when you least expect it. It creeps up suddenly. When someone needs attention, care, conversation, laughter and maybe intimacy. Love doesn’t look at logic or at backgrounds and least of all religion.
Gayatri was from a very conservative South Indian family that went to a temple every Saturday. Syed brought goats to his family every Eid. That said it all. Their paths would never have crossed if it hadn’t been for that fateful day. That day when he walked into the coffee shop. Gayatri wondered if destiny chose our loved ones for us. Did we have any role to play at all?
She looked at her watch. Syed was late. They met every Thursday at five pm to catch up. Their conversation lasted for hours. Sometimes in the café, sometimes in his car, sometimes in places that she could never tell her friends about. They would never understand. And yet Syed made her happy.
Suddenly her phone beeped. He had sent a message. “On my way. Have something important to tell you.”
Gayatri stared at it and realized she had knots in her stomach. Thoughts flooded her mind. What did he want to tell her? [*] Will he propose? Or back out? Didn’t he say his people are highly religious? Wouldn’t they’ve put their foot down? She racked her brains at that, and bogged down by anxiety, her mind became numb. She sank into her seat and closed her eyes as though to crystal gaze. Soon, unable to cool her nerves in any which way she came of the café and waited for Syed at the gates. It’s as if she was trying to cut short her anxiety. When she spotted his car, in time, she waved at him furiously, and jumped into it as he opened the door for her.

"Won't it remind one of Gandhi's experiments with truth?" "I have no quarrel with Gandhi the man ... more "Won't it remind one of Gandhi's experiments with truth?" "I have no quarrel with Gandhi the man but I have problem with the Mahatma of his," he said and as if to remonstrate his apathy for the Gandhian values, he had an extended sip of that Laphroaic. "I'm no Gandhian and I don't intend to be one," he continued from where he had left. "But as is being done, I see it's a disservice to his legacy to deify him; it's when I approach him as man that I value him as a human being, but in his picture of mahatma, I see many a wart in his atma. Credit him for cleaning up the public toilets but why not condemn him for having forced his spouse to do the same; why laud him for his quixotic abstinence unmindful of his wife's conjugal plight; was he not an inveterate autocrat in the democratic garb; what about his falling afoul of Prakasam, and how he played favorites with Nehru. Why bother about him as he'd been reduced for long as a political mascot of the slavish-minded of the self-serving Nehru family that hijacked his name to grind its dynastic axe! What an irony it is that his party that sundered the British yoke should have rendered the political reins into Italian hands? Bemoan the congress party."

In India’s License Raj, with the permit to produce sulubuloxine in his wife Sneha’s hand, Gautam ... more In India’s License Raj, with the permit to produce sulubuloxine in his wife Sneha’s hand, Gautam Prabhu thought of a tie-up with a business house with the license as his share of the capital. But then, Global Facilitators, the grandiose lobbying firm of his dreams, would be a non-starter, after all. So he racked his brains as to how to retain his lien on the license and yet make his ‘deals facilitating’ dream a reality. It was at that juncture at a stag party, that he met Ranjit Palit, the Branch Manager of the Oriental Fire and General Insurance Company. When he was reasonably high, Palit came to articulate the genesis of the arson that plagued the general insurance business. With the common denominator being utmost good faith, he articulated that insuring others’ properties was like entrusting one’s wife to another’s safe keeping. While misplaced trust in the former could occasion a fraudulent claim, in case of the latter, it might lead to an alien paternity. Thus, the breach of warranty in both would leave behind the unwanted in the end.
Blaming it all upon the Loss Assessors, Palit reserved his choicest expletives for them all. He thought they were but a bunch of self-serving nincompoops with weak moral fibers. They were all superficial to the core sorely lacking the needed skills to separate the wheat from the chaff. Wouldn’t that let the bluffing claimants to take this mindless lot for a smooth ride of exaggeration? And lazy as they were with their assignments, they were all alacrity when it came to criticizing their colleagues’ work.
What was worse, he averred, with right inducements, they could be easily made to look the other way, even in the case of apparently untenable claims. With such Loss Assessors around, it was little wonder that the insurers might go under one day. As though to appear balanced, even after consuming a pint, Palit conceded to the presence of black sheep on the underwriting side of the fence as well. It was such who form a ‘nexus of loot’ with the insured and the Loss Assessors, he concluded.

This inspirational memoir of an Indian novelist, playwright, short story, non-fiction 'n articles... more This inspirational memoir of an Indian novelist, playwright, short story, non-fiction 'n articles writer, translator, a 'little' thinker and a budding philosopher, underscores the human possibilities amidst the imponderables of life.

I wasn’t poor, being not rich Life was fine, thanks to hope All that changed, owing to muse, ... more I wasn’t poor, being not rich
Life was fine, thanks to hope
All that changed, owing to muse,
With one ‘novel’ passion pure
Affairs I had, twelve of them ...

'Almost every woman in her youth is beddable,' he thought, lighting his India King. 'While some m... more 'Almost every woman in her youth is beddable,' he thought, lighting his India King. 'While some may be repeatable, rarely are they keepable. But, each of them is obtainable, though with some of them it may take some time and effort even. All said and done, the quick-fire affair affords man ego satisfaction as well as ready gratification. Besides, won't that make it easy for man to bring the curtains down, when it suits him? It's as well; women tend to hang on to the illicit stage that much longer.'
'But should the dame resist long enough,' he continued with his soliloquy, 'for the adventurer that would be a different ball game altogether. Her reluctance to give in would only increase her appeal to him by the day, deepening his desire for her by the night. Won't that make it difficult for him to give up, resulting in unwelcome frustration? What's worse, it could result in reverse seduction, tying the philanderer in the nuptial knots. And for the married man, courting singles could be a hindrance, for they harp on his divorcing the wife as a prerequisite for liaison.'

The thought of the power of love brought back the memories of that memorable encounter he had on ... more The thought of the power of love brought back the memories of that memorable encounter he had on the train the previous year. 'Oh! What a lass she was!' he thought, and reflected upon that incredible incident. During that early winter, he went to Khajuraho to study the erotic architecture of its sandstone temples. After a weeklong stay there, that evening he boarded the Ganga-Kaveri Express at Satna to reach Madras to present his seminar paper. After exchanging pleasantries with a Father on the side and the trade unionist opposite in that four-berth coupe, he went about polishing his seminar paper well into the night. Next morning, he was lazing by the window enjoying the refreshing landscape of the wilderness. At around eight, two girls came to greet the Father who was engrossed with the Bible. The one, who was almost in, was rather plain but the other behind her seemed tantalizing in her grey sari. With a black shawl draped around, she was a shade darker and an inch taller than her companion. Directing his gaze upon the charmer, he found her graceful though tentative in her flowing frame. As she surveyed the scene, she found him intently staring at her in wonderment. It

With Paranjape’s plea for a trial in camera began the post-lunch proceedings in the Judge’s chamb... more With Paranjape’s plea for a trial in camera began the post-lunch proceedings in the Judge’s chambers. He averred that the witness was entailed to have her identity as well as her deposition kept by the court away from the public. After all, he said, on her own, the witness had come forward to help the cause of justice and thus serve the public interest. Besides, he alerted the court about the delicate nature of her testimony and the likely embarrassment the cross-examination could cause her. Having considered Paranjape’s pleas on merits and as Mehrotra had no precedents to quote against to poke his nose; Justice Sumitra began the hearing in her chambers. Though the trial commenced soon enough, that seemed an eternity to the accused.

When the stage was set for Paranjape to take the floor, he ordained the witness to remove her burka. While Mehrotra tried to size up the young woman who emerged from the veil, Paranjape tried to map the nuances of Suresh’s demeanor.
“Don’t you know who she is?” Paranjape asked Suresh.
“Objection Ms. Justice,” roared Mehrotra from his seat. “If she’s to further the prosecution, the indicted has a right to know who she is and not the other way round.”
“Ms. Justice,” said Paranjape spiritedly, “the interests of justice would suffer if the objection is sustained.”
“You may proceed,” said Justice Sumitra.
“Have you ever met her before?” Paranjape asked Suresh menacingly.
Having realized the import of her appearance, Suresh was flabbergasted beyond belief. Besides, he had no brief from Mehrotra either to tackle the ticklish tangle.

On reaching her ‘new home’ as she learned that Dhruva was away with Shakeel and was not expected ... more On reaching her ‘new home’ as she learned that Dhruva was away with Shakeel and was not expected till late in the night, Radha began scanning Mithya’s closets to delve deeper into her past. Not finding any sleazy stuff therein, as she was on the verge of giving up on spying, she located a false bottom in the dressing table that led her to many unusual items. Elated at the discovery as she rummaged the shelf, she found Mithya’s jottings, leafing through which she came across a handwritten Untried Crime that read:
‘That was when Mithya’s life was under siege; she faced the unwelcome prospect of divorce, lo, owing to her own infidelity. Barely turned twenty-eight, as she was not for losing the good things of life her marriage afforded, she began planning a perfect murder of her man and her paramour. Leaving no lose ends for the police to tie her up to the murders, wearing a burka she spied upon Dhruva, the Station House Officer, likely to come knocking at her door for the inevitable questioning. While his reputation as an Ace of crime detection only increased her sense of challenge, giving an erotic edge to her criminal cunning, she turned covetous struck by his élan and enamored of his mien.
That late night, after seeing the end of both her men and having alerted the police about their death, she expectantly waited for Dhruva at her 9, Castle Hills, and when he knocked at her door, she received him in lingerie.

It's perilous penning this blurb. It's fine when man is modest about his work. It even affords h... more It's perilous penning this blurb.
It's fine when man is modest about his work.
It even affords him the aura of an invisible crown!
But what about his work?
Were it an art or craft, it is there for all to see.
What of a literary work of an unheralded author?
Well, lauding the same might raise one's eyebrows.
Failing to praise wouldn't make a 'jewel-less crown' either!
Why not see, if this is the great Indian novel.
This is the story of the rise and fall of an ambitious man, the decline, and the decay of his conniving wife, the trials, and tribulations of their wayward son as well as the grit and gall of a spirited woman, who enters into his life.
This depiction of their life and times not only pictures the facets of ambition and achievement, intrigue and betrayal, compulsion and compromise, sleaze and scandal, trial and sentence, but also portrays the possibilities of repentance and resolution, love and empathy coupled with compassion and contribution, leading to the spirituality of materialism, and that makes it the saga of our times.
The story of a lifetime, truly.

Dedicated to
VV Rao my soul mate
PN Murty the friendly cousin
KB Bhaskar my computer guru
for their support of my literary cause,
Jewel-less Crown comprises of -

Book One - Artha and Kama
1. Party Gone Sour
2. Trauma at Tihar
3. Mind of the Maligned
4. Twist at Tis-Hazari
5. Trial in Camera
6. Dilemma of Qualms
7. Moment of Reckoning
8. End within end
9. Vestiges of Prestige
10. High on Rebound
11. Bellows of Delhi
12. Dicing with Life
13. Spidering Spadework
14. Loss to Order
15. Daring the Fate
16. Victims of Deceit
17. Baring the Soul
18. Garland of Guilt.

Book Two - Dharma and Moksha
1. Bliss of Being
2. Collage of Crime
3. Domain of the Devil
4. Renaissance of Life
5. Sprouts of Love
6. Despair of Hope
7. Turn at the Bend
8. Amity of Empathy
9. Day to Remember
10. Spirituality of Materialism
11. Sense of Reincarnation
12. Epilogue.

On one hand, this ‘book of logic ‘n reasoning’ appraises the Islamic faith shaped by the sublimit... more On one hand, this ‘book of logic ‘n reasoning’ appraises the Islamic faith shaped by the sublimity of Muhammad's preaching in Mecca and the severity of his sermons in Medina, which together make it Janus-faced to bedevil the minds of the Musalmans.
That apart, aided by “I’m Ok – You’re Ok”, the path-breaking work of Thomas A. Harris and Roland E Miller’s “Muslim Friends–Their Faith and Feeling”, this work for the first time ever, psycho-analyses the imperatives of the Muslim upbringing that has the potential to turn a faithful and a renegade alike into a fidayēn.
On the other, this work, besides appraising the monumental rise and the decadent fall of Hindu intellectualism, analyses how the sanātana dharma came to survive in India, in spite of the combined onslaught of Islam and the Christianity on Hinduism for over a millennium.
Also, besides providing a panoramic view of the Indian history, this thought-provoking book appraises the way Gandhi, Nehru, Patel, Azad, Ambedkar, Indira Gandhi, Narasimha Rao, Vajpayee, Manmohan Singh, Sonia Gandhi, Narendra Modi et al made or unmade the post-colonial India.
Possibly in a new genre this free eBook is a book for our times.

Contents
Preface of Strife
Chapters
1. Advent of Dharma
2. God’s quid pro Quo
3. Pyramids of Wisdom
4. Ascent to Descent
5. The Zero People
6. Coming of the Christ
7. Legacy of Prophecy
8. War of Words
9. Czar of Medina
10. Angels of War
11. Privates of ‘the God’
12. Playing to the Gallery
13. Perils of History
14. Pitfalls of Faith
15. Blinkers of Belief
16. Shackles of Sharia
17. Anatomy of Islam
18. Fight for the Souls
19. India in Coma
20. Double Jeopardy
21. Paradise of Parasites
22. The Number Game
23. Winds of Change
24. Ant Grows Wings
25. Constitutional Amnesia
26. The Stymied State
27. The Wages of God
28. Delusions of Grandeur
29. Ways of the Bigots
30. The Rift Within
31. The Way Around
32. The Hindu Rebound
33. Italian Interregnum
34. Rama Rajya
35. Wait for the Savant

This is BS Murthy’s English rendition of Dwana Sastry’s nānēs tribute in Telugu to the Jnānpēth a... more This is BS Murthy’s English rendition of Dwana Sastry’s nānēs tribute in Telugu to the Jnānpēth ascendant, Dr. C. Narayana Reddy (Cināre), on his 75th birthday.
Cingireddi Narayana Reddy (29 July 1931 – 12 June 2017) was an Indian Telugu-language poet and writer. Reddy had produced over eighty literary works including poems, prose-plays, lyrical plays, translations, and ghazals. He was also a professor, lyricist, actor, and Rajya Sabha politician. Reddy was awarded the Jnānpēth Award by the government of India in 1988, and he served as the Vice Chancellor of Telugu University.