The True Lies of Newspapers

We all have our individual political affiliations and the same fact can be extrapolated to Media Corporations. I have heard several times that the Times of India is a pro-Congress Media house. What I want to highlight here however, are a few articles in the times of India that caught my eye.  

Alok Nath might not have in his wildest dreams imagined that a 20 year old would be talking about him and his “Sanskari” attitude. His performance in movies and Indian soaps have made him the butt of several jokes; my favourite one being “Alok Nath takes off his chappals before he plays Temple Run”! Through his unwitting fame on social media, he made his way to the more traditional forms of the media. Alok Nath was the star of the show. But towards the end of the article, I found something interesting. 

Next, I opened another article. I was genuinely drawn to the caption. I don't even know why.  Now that I think of it, the word business might have drawn me to it.

The article spoke of a business owner who collects Indian currency notes with special serial numbers. Fair enough. As a matter of fact, I got engaged last year and my uncle presented me with a note with the serial number of the day in question. It took me a while to figure out why he handed me a 10 rupee note. My fiancee was the first to spot the serial number. Well, as fate would have it or should I say the Times of India would have it, the article had an innocuous bit of information.

Call me a paranoid freak, but I can't help but notice why the same name keeps showing up in seemingly unrelated articles. You might say that Arvind Kejriwal is the most popular man in town today; which is indeed the case, but there's one fact that I know to be true. The media and especially the Times of India does not give you such visibility  for free. Either you pay them, or the media outlet itself has a certain ulterior motive. In this case, my guess would be a certain political leaning. I've said this earlier that through a cursory glance of the TOI, you get the impression that it is a Pro-Congress media house. Political opponents do get coverage, albeit bordering on the negative. Or if a positive article is published, two negative articles might be published. Or as in the case of the two articles in question in this post, negative commentary can be slyly inserted into totally unrelated articles.

We are all familiar with the theory of subconsciously being affected by the information flashed in front of us. Companies and governments don't spend millions of dollars on Billboards and tv advertisements if they didn't have an impact on our minds. I'd like to point readers to the following article titled "10 Corporations Control almost everything you buy"

http://www.policymic.com/articles/71255/10-corporations-control-almost-everything-you-buy-this-chart-shows-how

Why then is the Times of India surreptitiously supporting the AAP when it has always been pandering to the Congress? I can only wonder why!

Believe with caution!

In one of my previous posts (Let’s be mavericks), I said that “We live our lives and do things the way certain other individuals and entities want us to”. I base this latest blog post on the concept of propaganda. Propaganda is the science of “make believe”; of influencing the way you look at the world, a way of insidiously controlling your thoughts. Why am I harping on about propaganda? I watched the evening news on television and news reporters were excited about the fact that Kim Jong-Il, communist dictator of North Korea had been “proclaimed” dead. Cause of death? Korean state television announced that he “died of a heart attack caused due to the immense pressures of running the state, he sacrificing his life for the general public of North Korea”.

I never really knew what the whole deal about North Korea was and so after watching the news, I decided to update myself. I watched a National Geographic documentary called “Inside Undercover in North Korea”. The situation was pretty similar to what the Taliban are up to in Afghanistan and the Pakistani North West frontier province. Repressing people and their freedom is the forte of these regimes and the North Korean government under Kim-Il Sung, and later his just deceased son, Kim Jong-Il has been literally controlling every aspect of life of the North Korean public. Privacy is probably a very alien concept to these people because government officers routinely just march into their homes for whatever reason. Even worse is the fact that the Government it literally controlling their minds.

The North Korean people have been made to believe that their ruler is a God, just as the idiotic rulers of pre- 1789 France made their people believe that they were chosen by God to rule. Kim Jong as well as his father before him, had people hang pictures of themselves in their houses. This is something I have come across myself during my stay in the Middle East. In the Middle East, it is mandatory for business owners to wall mount pictures of the kings of the land on their premises. What is more appalling about the North Korean custom was that people had to do so in their houses as well and routinely bowed before the portraits. Elderly women, held hands of their children and made them bow as well. Naturally, being exposed to such nonsense at such an impressionable age, an age where a human has no concept of self, these children have grown up to believe that Kim is indeed a God.

The government controlled media has people believe that North Korea is paradise on Earth. It routinely lists Korea as being the wealthiest and most powerful nation on the planet. You’d think people were not dumb enough to believe that. But in the case of North Koreans, they are not allowed to leave their country at all. If people remember, it was with great difficulty that North Korean football players were allowed to participate in last year’s FIFA world cup. What to speak of foreign travel, going from one place to another within the same city requires a permit; unless of course you’re a high ranking government official. They have no concept whatsoever of the kind of life people outside their countries lead. Television and radio are obviously Government controlled and broadcast only government approved programs. There is no internet access whatsoever. Yet, majority of the people are blissfully unaware that they are suffering which indeed they are. That is a way of life for them and they know nothing else. In spite of these strictures, Kim himself didn’t follow his rules. North Korean “nobility” is evidently above the law of the land. Kim’s son has had an education in Switzerland and is now the de facto leader of his country after his father died, 2 days ago. Kim owned a massive collection of 20,000 VHS tapes and DVDs of Hollywood movies, James Bond and Rambo being some of his favourites. Kim was a cigar lover; yet on being advised to quit smoking to prolong his miserable life by his doctors, Kim outlawed smoking all over North Korea, calling it one of the three worst vices a man could have.

What I would like to put into perspective is the fact that though our minds are not controlled to such an extent by our governments and media, it is nevertheless happening. And like the North Koreans we believe what is being put before us. Western governments and media outlets can obviously influence us to their way of thinking. However fishy and shady a piece of news may sound, just the fact that it was on TV or radio lends it credibility. Real news is routinely euphemized or blown out of proportion or worse, completely supressed to toe the “being politically correct” line.  

Weeding out such misinformation is obviously incredibly difficult. However, I believe that we can at least try to choose what we believe and what we don’t by being active watchers and listeners than passive ones. By passive watching, I mean turning on the TV because we’re bored and just listening to whatever is on or watching TV while peeling potatoes. By being zombies in front of a television or radio, I think we literally give complete control to whoever is putting information in front of us. Even though we are seemingly in control of our minds, information gleaned passively does affect us subconsciously and sticks with us. We may not be willing to admit it, but it’s true. Active watching thus means consciously making an effort to choose what to believe and what not to.

For those interested in the NGC documentary about the horrors of life in North Korea, here’s the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_268_pBvPs

It's just not cool, folks!

“Justin Bieber’s a faggot! ShahRukh Khan is gay! Mahendra Singh Dhoni sucks! He’s just lucky!!”

I hear this kind of talk way too often. And I find it ridiculous! I mean, these guys are superstars. Whatever you say, nothing is going to change that. They have a lot more respect and standing in the world than you and I, and I just don’t see how that makes one a faggot. On the contrary, making statements like these make you a sore loser. The argument that people have given me in their defense is that being celebrities, Bieber, Khan, Dhoni and others are in the spotlight and getting some venom from the public is part of the game. But does that mean you hate them? Some of the comments people make are downright ugly!

Justin Bieber. Well, I’ve never listened to a single song of his YET. And I’m sure more than half the Bieber haters out there haven’t either. Yet, Bieber bashing is a popular sport. Why? That’s because everyone else says he’s an idiot. You won’t hear a single Bieber track for fear that you’ll be branded a homosexual for life.  And you know what, it’s perfectly normal to not like his music. Hear something else for God’s Sake! And as far as him being gay, he’s dating Selena Gomez. If you haven’t seen the chick, check her out. That should shut you up. The guy is seventeen. Cut him some slack. He’s a mega star and multi-millionaire before he’s an adult. Can anyone here even say they’re a star in their town or city? Do any of you have the guts to get in front of a thousand people on stage and (this isn’t just it. Anyone can go stand in front of a crowd) “KEEP THEM ENTERTAINED? “. That take’s balls and I respect that more than anything else.

They don’t call someone King of Bollywood for nothing. Maybe you don’t like his movies. Maybe you don’t like his acting. But to spew venom to show you hate the guy is retarded. I’ve heard statements like “Let’s show this faggot his real place”. I say to you, Let me see you handle a simple event and make a million bucks. Then talk. Let me see you in the Forbes list of the most powerful people and then talk all you want. If you’re a lame middle class guy/ girl, with nothing to show but just a college degree shut the hell up. Achieve something of substance and then talk. If you don’t like RA One, just say that the movie was bad or horrible or whatever else you want. You didn’t like SRK’s acting, fine. You think he over acts, fine! But saying that ShahRukh is a faggot is not cool. Next time you fail an exam miserably, let your friends call you a faggot for failing and see how that feels.

Somebody finishes a world cup final with a six apart from a match winning innings that saves India the blushes. Someone has won just about everything thrown at him, except for the recent tour of England. He leads India to the top of the test rankings, something no one has done before, he wins the world cup final singlehandedly and more recently, finishes unbeaten in every innings he played in the ODI series against England and is the man of the series. Talk about leading from the front. Yet, doubters abound, and pass lame statements every day. Face it folks, MSD was the best thing that happened to Indian cricket after Tendulkar.

When we participate in those low budget competitions at school or college and win, we scream and believe we’re the kings of the world. If we don’t do well, we just say we tried our best and move on. What if people around said, “HAH! You couldn’t sing at all. You’re a douchy faggot!” Trust me, no one has ever said that to you, but when someone actually does tell you that, you won’t even be able to handle it!

To an elephant, a few dogs barking don’t matter. In fact, the elephant barely takes notice of them because he knows he can squash them if he wants. It continues on its way, with dignity, not taking notice at all. 

Ancestry Blues!

I’m not quite sure how I feel about my mixed Aryan and Dravidian origin. Sometimes, I feel it’s pretty cool to be a hybrid: hybrid seeds are better, hybrid cars are more efficient and so it goes without saying that a hybrid human is “awesome”! But then I begin to have mixed feelings just like my mixed ancestry.

The name’s Iyer. Anirudh Iyer. According to Indian ethnic classification, that puts me among those coming from the state of Tamil Nadu: yes the state with the shape of a man’s face, spitting on Sri Lanka. I belong to the people who take McDonald’s ‘finger licking good’ campaign to a whole new level; for them, their food is ‘fist and hand licking good’. The protagonists in their films look like goons in a Mithun Chakraborty movie.  But I barely resemble one of these goons. In fact, I look just fine! Thanks to my Gujju mother who comes to the rescue. Anyway, it's kinda hard being in this position, and its difficult to relate to a particular culture. On the brighter side, I have a choice many other people don't have and I have exercised it alright. I don't identify myself with any of the communities I belong to; sure I could pass off as a Gujju but I prefer my choice. Being born and raised in the city of Mumbai, I identify myself as a Mumbaikar and with the free mingling of communities that is on the rise these days, more people like me are going to be produced! :P I sure won't be lonely. 

But weirdly, I have been identified as a member of several communities: Gujarati for obvious reasons, but Punjabi, Marwadi once in a while. After these, I begin to go global. I once met this Hungarian girl who I stopped to ask directions. She helped me out and then asked me where I was from. "India", pat came the reply. "India?!? Really? I thought you were either Spanish of Mexican." Well, I sure was thrilled to hear that but the only reason I felt she guessed wrong was because I had long hair back then which was slicked back; as far as it would go. Anyway, this was just a one off incident. Most other  people in Canada call me Asian; more specifically, I'm a "regular Brown guy", as one drunk Halloween-er called me on a bus. But these past few months, I have been confused with an entirely different race of humans. These days, I am being called an Arab. Not just by the Arabs themselves, but my fellow Indians as well. Last month, I went to a Pakistani salon to get a hair cut. The bugger bored me to death with his endless barrage of questions about what I did for a living in Bahrain, which I was patient enough to answer. Anyway, while I was leaving, an Arab, in full "al habibi" attire, walked in and looked at me and started jabbering away in rapid Arabic. I didn't know what to say. Finally, the Paki intervenes and informs the Arab that I was in fact an Indian. With a crestfallen face, the Arab begins in broken English and bits of Hindi as well, " Tum India se? I thought you Arabic, you look like us." I mumbled something to him and walked out of the shop. But then, a few weeks back, an Indian walks into my office. He engages a colleague of mine in conversation, while I go grab something from the workshop. As soon as I return, I hear the conversation has turned to something about an Arab. I was further surprised when I realized that the Arab was apparently me. And this crazy old fool was an Indian; A MUMBAIKAR. I can smell a Mumbaikar when I see one! I corrected him that I was a fellow Indian and Mumbaikar but he was profusely apologetic about calling me an Arab. He said, your hair, your skin color and your stubble remind me of an Arab. And I've been called an Arab a coupla other times as well. It’s official now. I can pass off as an Arab with ease. CIA officials, if you're looking for a mole to infiltrate deep into Al Qaeda or someting, I'm your man, unless of course, the terrorists check me downtown, if you know what I mean. :P

Anyway, I must remind myself to look as Indian as possible, by shaving and wearing an "I love India t shirt", lest on the flight back to Canada, officials at the airport detain me. Incidentally, the day I'm going back to Canada is 9/11 and it's the 10th anniversary of the attacks and I hope some of the dumb westerners don't scream, "OH MY GOD, NO!" on the flight while I try to remove my wallet or something. 

Let's be Mavericks!

We live our lives and do things the way certain other “individuals” and “entities” want us to. The way we respond to situations, the decisions and choices we make in life and our beliefs are not really our own, and amazingly all of us aren’t even aware of it!

Right from the time we’re innocent children with no concept about life in general, we are made to do our parents bidding; things which, at that point in time appear ridiculous. A child probably hates to take a bath but he is forced to do so by his mother. It probably hates to eat healthy food and prefers a packet of potato chips; but I’ve seen parents spend hours on end trying to force feed their children. In these instances, not being in control of the situation is a good thing; a parent undoubtedly has the best interests of his child at heart. Years pass, you grow more mature; your understanding of how the world works deepens. You’d think that you know what you’re doing and you’re not really doing or believing things because someone else is telling you to. But is that the truth? Not quite. Apparent control is worse than knowing you’re not in control.

In the grown up world, there are more sinister and insidious forces influencing our choices, beliefs and actions. The media is one such force. The media is such a powerful entity that it can make you believe just about anything by subtly twisting facts. Celebrities, claiming to be misquoted, are about as mundane as the weather now. By changing a word here, deleting another there, a certain something can be made to sound like something entirely different. And we are made to believe. Such influencing is not important in the grand scheme of things. But sometimes, a perfectly honest and self respecting individual’s entire reputation can be destroyed as the general public is willing to BELIEVE most of what the media prints. And let’s face it, we know that certain papers are sensationally motivated, but what they write and print does affect us subconsciously.

Another instance is that of the concept of credit. The basic idea of credit is quite powerful: you borrow today and pay back later. However, practically living off credit is not something considered very smart. Yet, governments in North America and around the world encourage you to use credit all the time. These days, businesses sometimes don’t even accept any other form of payment except credit cards. Also, unless you use your credit card and repay your debt, your credit rating will always be low; if your rating is low, you won’t be able to get a home loan or a car loan; in other words, the government is cleverly making you borrow, even when you probably don’t want to. One of the major “entities” we left out in the discussion is our “friendly bank”. The banks are probably lobbying hard to keep such laws in place. It sounds outrageous and we may never agree to it, but all this is done behind the facade of a hot teller at the bank and we accept whatever she says! :P Clever marketing always influences us. Also, tomorrow, if the banks file for bankruptcy, you won’t even be able to see YOUR OWN money. Are we in control at all?

I feel that modern education is also a business and is sold to us. Basic education is important, there’s no doubt about that. But just think of the number of years we’ve invested in our formal education: for most people reading this post, 16 years at least. Most of what we’ve studied is no use in our line of work. Then was putting in almost a quarter of our lives sitting in class a good idea? Maybe, maybe not. Again, we are made to believe that without being formally educated, we wouldn’t get jobs. In the case of middle class Indians, education is a necessity to get married sometimes. Again it has become something someone is forced to do, although it is seemingly our decision.

And let’s not even get started with peer pressure. Though the term applies generally to teenagers, it is applicable to people of all ages; even the oldies. At every stage, we are forced to do something because someone else is doing it. Many of us have completed graduation, but because everyone else is doing an MBA, we need to too, or else we’ll be out of the crowd or won’t earn as much as our friends. Clearly a case of peer pressure.

At every step in life, we are made to CONFORM to the norm and most of us are blissfully unaware. I’m not advocating that we become paranoid and fear the intentions of everybody. I just want you to appreciate how powerless we truly are. But yes, if we want to be truly empowered, we need to be mavericks. Do what we need to; not what we are made to. Believe what we want to, not what we are made to.

My Journey Home!

(wrote this a few days after reaching Mumbai!)

My trip home was an eventful and exciting one. I knew I would have a great time on the flight. I was really looking forward to going home, but I was pretty excited about the travel as well. I love travelling and meeting new people on the way. It is amazing how strangers open up to you far quicker than people you already know for a while.

Prem had invited us to his house for a “house warming” party. I ended up being the head chef and cooking soya chunks, cauliflower potato and spaghetti (if that’s what it was, because it was as Indian as you can imagine! And I didn’t eat it, but the guys said it was pretty good). We saw 10 things I hate about you. I think that is one of the best teen romantic comedies around. And more importantly, it was heath ledger’s first big Hollywood film.

The next day, I was pretty gung ho about the big day finally being there. I had been looking forward to that day for so long. It was a good productive morning. I went to Dundurn Property management to hand over the post dated cheque, dropped of the borrowed textbooks at Thode library and also got a haircut done. There was some kind of police drill going on at Thode that morning. A police drill about a possible hostage scenario at Mac. Wouldn’t that be something? (And I go in and heroically rescue whoever was in the clutches of the bastards causing mayhem! )

All my bags were packed and I was ready to go. I left at 12:15 for the Dundurn GO bus stop. I handed Prem the keys to the house. Finally bus 46 appeared in the distance. It was raining lazily. The thing about the rains in Canada is that there are never torrential rains; just simple, boring drizzling. I carried my bags out the bus shelter, and waited for the bus to stop. Trouble was, that son of a bitch didn’t stop the bus. That was a major cause of concern. I dragged my bags back to the house so that I could access the internet and get the timing on the next bus or to probably call the GO bus operators and find out what the heck was going on. I reached home and realized that I didn’t have the keys and that they were with Prem. Dammit! I hoped dlink would be on in the kitchen and thankfully it didn’t disappoint. I found out that the next bus would be at 1 15. Apparently, the reason the driver didn’t stop before was because I didn’t flag him down. I have never had to flag GO buses at the Dundurn bus stop. I thought it was a given GO buses would stop there. This time round, I waved to the driver when he was around 200 feet from the bus stop. I got in and finally I could relax. I wasn’t too worried that I missed the bus. In fact, I was remarkably calm.

The guy gave me a ticket to square one, but when I got off; I told him I wanted to go to the airport. The driver was good enough to let me go to Bramalea and catch a bus from there. I met a coupla other people going to the airport too. One was on his way to Slovakia and the other was a Nigerian teenager on his way to Mexico City. His father was the Nigerian ambassador to Mexico.

The check in line for jet airways was a pain. It took almost an hour and a half to get to the counter. The woman behind me was an old hag who was talking to some friend of hers on her macbook on skype. Every other statement was loaded with sarcasm. One was, “These people have enough luggage to sink the titanic!” Well, Indians always travel fully loaded!

I called Sunny and Harpriya from the airport. I love wifi and I love gmail for giving us free US Canada calling. Here I was, speaking to people from my laptop. I even could have called people back home. I had a final French vanilla at Tim Horton’s and indulged myself in a bagel with cream cheese and a double chocolate donut. The excuse I gave myself for my indulgence was that I had too much Canadian change in my wallet and that it was becoming fatter than ever.

I met this woman at the lounge. She was a Gujarati from Ahmedabad and now a Canadian citizen. She got married a year ago and was going to meet her husband. She had already applied for his citizenship and was waiting for CIC to respond. She had done a commerce degree from Oshawa and was now working somewhere. Her parents and siblings were in Canada too. I had a pretty decent conversation with her; just the usual, what I was doing, where I was going. Stuff like that. I finally boarded the plane. I saw these cute girls on the airport and I was kinda hoping they would sit next to me but that didn’t happen. Instead, a Canadian geologist sat next to me. He was a pretty talkative guy. The trouble was his mouth was kinda smelly and I had to turn my face towards the window every now and then to escape the “noxious fumes” emanating from his yapper. He had travelled quite a bit and was on his way to Romania. He told me about the work he was doing and he said that he was interested in geology and archaeology together. It was interesting to hear his experiences abroad. (Peru, Brazil, Romania, Italy, Switzerland, Scotland). He was one of those loner traveller types

I saw Rajneeti on the first leg of the flight. I liked the movie for Ranbir Kapoor’s Machiavellian schemes. Just what I love doing and should have done more often. Everything else was ok. It was a rip off of Godfather and also from the lives of Rajiv and Sonia Gandhi. RK was obviously Michael Corleone. I also saw this incredible documentary called the Inside Job. Boy did it enlighten me as to what really happened on Wall Street which caused the financial crisis. Mind boggling!

Once we were over England, I started looking out the window. I was lucky enough to look out at just the right time. The English Channel has a variable breadth between England and the European mainland. There is a part which is incredibly small; well, small enough that I could see both England and the mainland from up above. It was beautiful. There were hundreds of ships sailing in the sea below. I’m sure they were gigantic, but from way up in the sky, they looked like little toys. The plains of Brussels soon appeared. Neatly arranged square tracts of land were all over the place. Wind turbines dotted the landscape. We landed in Brussels and found the weather to be pleasant and sunny. One of the amazing things about Europe is that they have beautiful weather all year round. The winters too aren’t as brutal as Canada. I also met this other chick from Canada called Emily. She was a lawyer and was on her way to Barcelona to meet her cousin. She gave me her number and I’m supposed to call her once I get to Hamilton because that’s where she lives too. She finally left because she had to go catch her flight from some other terminal. I reached the familiar airport terminal of Brussels. It was just as I remembered it. I’d been there 9 months ago on my way to Canada. Thee geologist and I roamed the airport and looked around for free wifi. But unlike Toronto’s Pearson international, these people weren’t as generous. The cheapest internet connection was 6 euros for half an hour. The duty free shops were full of the usual stuff: cigarettes, chocolates, booze, perfumes, and little trinkets and other European stuff. We finally sat for an hour and half where the geologist regaled me with more tales about his travels all over the world. At 9:30 he finally left to catch his flight to Romania. I met the Gujju chick once again, waiting to board the flight. Her name was Rinkal, by the way. It is a weird name but Gujju’s do have funny names sometimes.

I was finally on my way home. No stop over; all the way to Mumbai. This time round, I saw some magnificent views below. Sometime when we were over Iran or possibly Iraq, I saw snow covered mountainous regions below. It was breathtaking! At dusk, the color of the sky in the distance was also beautiful. It was a pretty interesting flight

Jijaji and Harsh were waiting for me when I got there. I love jet airways because everything was bang on schedule. Scheduled lift offs, scheduled landings, everything on time; and amazing service, and fairly decent food. Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait too long for me at the airport.  Mumbai was just as I had remembered it. I was actually a little surprised because I barely felt hot. I thought that since I was coming from 6 degrees weather, I’d find Mumbai incredibly stuffy, but that wasn’t the case. The weather was really good. In fact, even as I write, the weather is amazing.

It was good to meet didi again and be back in her house. She cooked lunch for us the next day and as usual her high standards were maintained. Her food is amazing. Every time! I got to Miraroad at around 5. I drove from Malad to Miraroad and I had a superb time driving. I loved it when the rickshaw waalas didn’t care for anyone else on the road. I loved the mayhem and the chaos. This was home!

That evening, I just walked into Prathmesh’s house. It was good to see the expression on his mother’s face. When she told Prathmesh that I had come, he thought she was kidding. It was good to meet my bro again! We caught up, spoke our usual bullshit and I had a great time. We went to RNA and I met a few people from the gym who I remembered. RNA was a mess. Overcrowded and swelteringly hot.

 I was eagerly waiting to sink my teeth into some good old roadside food. That was one of the things I missed about India. It felt great to be back.

Thick as thieves!

Yesterday being Friendship day, I thought I’d write something about friendship and friends.

In all my life, I’ve heard of and read several stories about great friends and true friendship. But the story of friendship that stands out in my mind is that between Karna and Duryodhana. Yes, these two were considered the villains in Mahabharata but whoever said that you need to be on the good side to be considered great friends?

Karna was the son of Kunti; the mother of the Pandavas; she begot him before she married King Pandu of Hastinapur. Abandoned by his mother immediately after his birth, he was found and raised by a charioteer and hence was denied the privilege of being called a Kshatriya throughout his life, in spite of being one. He was denied a royal education by Dronacharya but yet, through self belief and painstaking effort, made himself one of the foremost of warriors.

Duryodhana, in his quest for powerful allies made Karna a king of the province of Anga. That gesture on his part made Karna indebted to Duryodhana throughout his life. Their friendship never once wavered. Karna was a righteous man and he knew that his friend was as nasty as they come. Yet, he stood by him. The toughest test of friendship though was yet to come. Days before the battle of Kurukshetra, his real mother Kunti revealed to Karna the actual circumstances of his birth. She requested that he fight on the side of the Pandavas. What comes next is hard to beat. Kunti told him that Yudhisthira would relinquish his claim to the throne and Karna would be emperor of the Bharat Varsh. Karna knew without doubt that if the Pandavas and especially Yudhisthira came to know that he was their elder brother, they would welcome him and respect him as one. He also knew Yudhisthira would unflinchingly give up the throne of Hastinapur if he came to know the truth.

Karna had everything before him. Yet, being the great man that he was, he politely refused Kunti’s offer. He told her that Duryodhana was his friend and that he wouldn’t under ANY circumstance abandon him and put his friendship in jeopardy.

I know it’s hard to believe; but well, that is surely the hallmark of true friendship. That you stand by your friends no matter what. As I experience more and more of life, I am further convinced that one should have a few true friends; friends that you would stand by no matter what, and who would do the same for you; not that it’s bad to have many friends, but that it’s not possible to please and stand by each and every one of them at all times; because inevitably there will be conflicts of interest. You cannot please everyone in this world.