Skip to main content

Rice bag




One of the new nicknames I’ve earned on social media is ‘Rice bag’.  The Sanghis use that name for any South Indian who questions the Sangh views and outlooks.  I think so.  But when it comes to Sanghis it is impossible to say what exactly they mean by anything.  The most fundamental characteristic of a Sanghi is utter lack of humour as well as imagination.

If you laugh when a Sanghi tells you that Ganesha’s trunk was the first case of plastic surgery in the history of medical science, the Sanghi will call you a Rice bag.  You can’t laugh when he thinks he is serious.  If you express an opinion that goes against the tenets and creeds of the Modified Sangh, the Sanghi will call you a Rice bag. 

You may wonder what rice or bag has got to do with all these?  Nothing. It is only the Sanghi way of telling you that they have no imagination to call you anything else other than by the place you belong to, or the food you eat, or the dress you wear.  I become a Rice bag in Sanghi lexicon, just because I belong to a region of the country where people eat rice more than wheat.  What has that got to do with my views on religion and politics?  Nothing.  But the Sanghi won’t understand that.

The Sanghi won’t won’t understand also that by their logic even the Sanghis in South India should be labelled Rice bags since they also eat more rice than wheat.  But don’t expect such logical thinking from Sanghis, of all people.

What I don’t understand at all is why Sanghis insist on making every Indian eat what the Sanghis eat, wear what Sanghis wear, think what Sanghis think, believe what Sanghis believe, and so son, ad nauseam, ad infinitum.  Why can’t India be a nation of diversity and plurality as it has always been until petty minds took charge in Delhi in 2014? 

Even if the Sanghis hold me against the barrel of a gun and tell me to accept their mythical heroes as the ultimate truths, I won’t accept that.  I respect my intellect, bhais.  Convince me logically and intelligently, if not scientifically, if you want me to take you seriously.  Otherwise you can call me whatever you like but I will reserve my right to laugh in your face.  Take away my laughter, if you can.  I challenge you.

Comments

  1. no
    christian missonaries provide rice bags(a gift to poor) to hindus to convert to christianity. thats why a rice bag

    not just to south indian but overall of india

    ReplyDelete
  2. also calling people as sanghi or bhakt shows your own standards

    anyway foolish human, why would it be God if there was logic to be there for an almighty? logic is for humans and not for Gods who created all

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

The Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart...

Ram, Anandhi, and Co

Book Review Title: Ram C/o Anandhi Author: Akhil P Dharmajan Translator: Haritha C K Publisher: HarperCollins India, 2025 Pages: 303 T he author tells us in his prefatory note that “this (is) a cinematic novel.” Don’t read it as literary work but imagine it as a movie. That is exactly how this novel feels like: an action-packed thriller. The story revolves around Ram, a young man who lands in Chennai for joining a diploma course in film making, and Anandhi, receptionist of Ram’s college. Then there are their friends: Vetri and his half-sister Reshma, and Malli who is a transgender. An old woman, who is called Paatti (grandmother) by everyone and is the owner of the house where three of the characters live, has an enviably thrilling role in the plot.   In one of the first chapters, Ram and Anandhi lock horns over a trifle. That leads to some farcical action which agitates Paatti’s bees which in turn fly around stinging everyone. Malli, the aruvani (transgender), s...

The Ghost of a Banyan Tree

  Image from here Fiction Jaichander Varma could not sleep. It was past midnight and the world outside Jaichander Varma’s room was fairly quiet because he lived sufficiently far away from the city. Though that entailed a tedious journey to his work and back, Mr Varma was happy with his residence because it afforded him the luxury of peaceful and pure air. The city is good, no doubt. Especially after Mr Modi became the Prime Minister, the city was the best place with so much vikas. ‘Where’s vikas?’ Someone asked Mr Varma once. Mr Varma was offended. ‘You’re a bloody antinational mussalman who should be living in Pakistan ya kabristan,’ Mr Varma told him bluntly. Mr Varma was a proud Indian which means he was a Hindu Brahmin. He believed that all others – that is, non-Brahmins – should go to their respective countries of belonging. All Muslims should go to Pakistan and Christians to Rome (or is it Italy? Whatever. Get out of Bharat Mata, that’s all.) The lower caste Hindus co...

Check the Roads Before You Check My Breath

From The Hindu Whenever a policeman waves my car down, a flicker of indignation rises in me, tinged with a trace of ironic amusement. I was taking a shortcut yesterday morning when a constable stopped my car right in front of a big ditch on a narrow rural road. It was a strategic point: no one could speed away ignoring the police because of the rainwater-filled ditch that spanned the entire width of the road ahead. Another constable came with a breathalyser and asked me to blow into it which I did with a smirk that was intended to convey my indignation. First of all, it was too early in the day for any normal person to be drunk. Secondly, they chose a place which revealed in all its gruesome ugliness that the government didn’t give a f*#k to the safety or wellness of the citizens, travellers in this case. Kerala is a state where an average of over 130 road accidents take place every day. 48,841 accidents occurred on Kerala’s roads in the year of 2024, according to the website of...