Monday, October 6, 2014

Take the ALQ-ISI Bucket Challenge Today

Take the ALQ-ISI Bucket Challenge Today. GET DRENCHED and SHIVER OR Spread awareness of the Al Qaeda-ISI terror network in Pakistan by reading the action thriller #IndiansInPakistan #Novel #eBook which is available on Amazon - for approximately 1 US Dollar or Rs 60 - at http://www.amazon.com/Indians-Pakistan-Vivek-Pereira-ebook/dp/B00N0WYM5O

Was it a mere coincidence that several 9/11 terrorists were trained in Pakistan (at Karachi in 1999)? Was it a mere coincidence that the head of Pakistani Intelligence (ISI) was in Pakistan before, during & after the 9/11 attacks - supervising his “boys” and bargaining with the Bush administration for a softer penalty for Pakistan? Was it a mere coincidence that this same ISI Chief was sacked on Bush’s insistence after it was revealed that the main hijacker Mohammed Atta had wired the “balance money” (from the funds sent earlier by the ISI) via the Hawala route back to Omar Saeed Sheikh, who is well known for his role in the 2002 kidnapping and murder of Wall Street Journal reporter Daniel Pearl? Was it a mere coincidence that for over a decade after 9/11, Osama Bin Laden continued to live a luxurious life protected by the Pakistani intelligence and military establishment?

Learn more about this deadly ISI-AL Qaeda terror network responsible for other acts of terror such as the 2008 Mumbai attacks and the Boko Haram activities in Nigeria. Read about it in the amazing ebook “Indians in Pakistan,” which has it all – Action, Romance and Information. And do remember to spread awareness of the Al Qaeda-ISI nexus or be prepared to get DRENCHED TILL YOU SHIVER!

The Vivekean Version of the Prodigal Son

(An Extract from Indians in Pakistan, the Action Thriller on terrorism)

‘It was all my fault,’ I said frankly. ‘I was blind then but now I see the truth. You were right and I was wrong.’

‘Mother would have been happy to see you,’ he told me, sadly. ‘Too bad she’s not around.’
‘Wh - where is she?’ I asked, looking around frantically for her.
‘It’s too late,’ he said. ‘She’s no longer in this world.’
‘Mother, mother,’ I continued, not heeding him. ‘Mother where are you?’
‘She’s dead, dear brother. She’s in heaven now.’
‘No, it cannot be. She cannot die! I need to tell her how much I love her. I need to tell her how sorry I am for walking away. I wanted to introduce her to Najma, my wife. I wanted to - ’

Words failed me at that moment and I sank to my knees. There were plenty of kind words from everyone around but there was nothing that could console me – not even the beautiful hands of Najma wrapped around my neck. I was truly inconsolable.


Visit the Fan Page of this exciting novel at https://www.facebook.com/IndiansInPakistan


Read the preview at 

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Friday, October 3, 2014

Revealing the Narendra Modi-Amit Shah brand of Social Engineering

If anyone thinks that the rise of Narendra Modi and Amit Shah to the top of the Indian political echelons has been sudden and meteoric, then they need to think again! Their progress can be attributed to a long drawn process of social engineering initiated by Modi and his ilk which spans well over forty years.

There have been various photos circulating on the internet of Modi in disguise during the Emergency as an RSS leader. The smoking gun is the very fact that Modi was considered important enough to be targetted by the Emergency authorities forty years ago. He had joined the RSS when it was just a nascent force in Gujarat and quickly rose to the top of this controversial outfit. Amit Shah joined him at the start of the 1980s and their partnership (in crime, etc) has blossomed since then.

Their modus operandi was to first spread hatred between the two main communities in Gujarat and then reap electoral gains. It used to be said that "if you threw a stone in the air in Ahmedabad, it would lead to a Hindu-Muslim riot." But earlier Gujarat had been a peaceful state with the bloody 1969 riots as an aberration. The Justice Reddy Commission set up to investigate the riots squarely blamed Hindu nationalist organizations like RSS, Hindu Mahasabha and Jan Sangh for escalating the riots which started after minor religious disputes (for which both communities were equally to blame). The Modi-Shah partnership harnessed this communal tension existing in Gujarat in the aftermath of the riots to propel their careers.  The sudden spurt of rioting in Gujarat from the early 1980s onwards indicated that these two political figures were busy tossing a lot of "stones in the air."

Now, Modi was close to another right-wing Sanghi named L K Advani and it was the magnamity of the latter (so gratefully rewarded in 2014) that boosted the prospects of Modi who, in turn, boosted those of Amit Shah in a trickling down effect that has been replicated in 2014 with Modi as the PM and Amit Shah as the party chief and their cronies filling spaces below in this hierarchy.

Here's a look at an excerpt from an article on Outlook.com, a prominent news website in India:(Read the full article at http://www.outlookindia.com/article/History-of-Communal-Violence-in-Gujarat/217988)
"It was from Gujarat, in September 1990, that LK Advani launched his Somnath to Ayodhya rath yatra leaving a nationwide trail of violence in its wake. In 1990 itself, there was major violence in Gujarat because of Advani's rath yatra. The chief architect of that yatra was Narendra Modi. During the years of communal violence in 1986, 1987, 1989 and 1990, Modi was general secretary of the BJP. That is when the Ramjanmabhoomi campaign became a central issue in Gujarat. Men, women and youngsters from Gujarat, constituting possibly the largest contingent from anywhere in the country, participated in the demolition of the Babri Masjid on December 6, 1992."

After the Babri Masjid demolition, India was never the same again as its secular fabric had been ripped apart. The BJP emerged as a leading national party in the early 1990s after having got just 2 seats in 1984! Such is the power of the 'Politics of Hate.’  Modi and Shah then went from village to village building a strong BJP base in the state, while at the same time creating a huge communal divide in the country. Modi then, through acts of betrayal  and by influencing the national leaders of the BJP, beat Vaghela and Keshubhai to the post of Gujarat Chief Minister in 2001.

The less said about Modi’s role in the subsequent Gujarat riots the better. Narendra Modi  has been accused of the following acts of omission and commission:
(a) His administration failed miserably to respond to the immediate dangers of  the altercations between Kar Sevaks of the Sabarmati Express and Muslim Traders at different railway stations.
(b) After the heinous burning of the Sabarmati Express, Modi & Co made it look as if it was a well planned conspiracy by prominent Muslim leaders instead of what it was – spontaneous communal violence directly related to the Babri Masjid demolition for which Modi himself was chiefly responsible.
(c) He allegedly conspired with the VHP to parade the dead bodies of the victims, Gaza-style, to fuel communal hatred against Muslims immediately after the train burning
(d) Modi conducted two separate meetings –– the first with police officers to go soft on rioters; the second was a pep-talk for Sanghi rioteers
(e) Narendra Modi failed to protect the lives of thousands of Hindus, Muslims and other Gujaratis by not providing governance when it was needed the most – His ministers sat in police control rooms monitoring the action ensuring that Police acted selectively only against the Muslim rioteers and allowed a free hand to the Sanghi rioteers.
(f) The biggest charge against him was that in the midst of the Gulbarga attack when Sanjiv Bhatt, a top police officer, informed him about the situation, Modi was worried whether the victims had guns to protect themselves from the rioteers. Moreover, when a call was made to Narendra Modi by Ehsan jaffrey, a top Gujarat politician, just before he was attacked and killed by the mob, there was only abuse from Modi’s phone but no assistance.

Of course, after the Gujarat Riots, Modi was justifiably humiliated and ostracised by one and all. But he has used his social engineering skills to bounce back, reach the top and win over his critics. Ratan Tata received a prestigious award at the hands of the Vajpayee Government and the loyalty of a top businessman was bought. Adani and Ambani were already Modi’s cheerleaders and have been amply rewarded for their support. Soon top  actors and the mainstream media were influenced (bought?) to support Modi and he has emerged as a larger than life figure frequently sporting the avatars of Nehru, Gandhi, Sardar Patel or Ambedkar among many others. He has resorted to CLICHES like “the force be with you” or “Clean India” to widen his fan base.

In the words of a VHP office bearer: ““We were used by Modi saab, used! Now that he has cemented his position, he wants to be seen as pro-development. He has abandoned those who died for him in Godhra. Who will support their families? It is like we have been wiped out from Modi’s memory.” 
Modi has continued to use people in his ascendancy, but it is now Amit Shah’s turn to reap the “Blood for Votes” brand of electoral politics. Let’s not talk about the charges of fake encounter killings or snooping  leveled against him. Since Amit Shah became the UP in-charge for the 2014 elections, there were "coincidentally” more than 200 riots, including the dreadful, Muzzafarnagar riots, that helped the BJP to sweep the state, winning 71 of the 80 seats in UP and 282 seats throughout the country. Amit Shah has been hailed as a genius and made the president of the BJP party.
With more elections expected throughout the country in the near future, one wonders as to what level of social engineering the successful Narendra Modi-Amit Shah partnership will now stoop!



Friday, September 12, 2014

Indians in Pakistan - The eBook Promo

"Love blossoms in the strangest of places - a terror training camp in the heart of Pakistan."

My Novel "Indians in Pakistan" has it all - Romance, Information and Action. Buy the Kindle version for less than 1 US$ (or Rs 60) Only at http://www.amazon.in/Indians-Pakistan-Vivek-Pereira-ebook/dp/B00N0WYM5O

Based on the confessions of Ajmal Kasab, the surviving terrorist in the 2008 Mumbai Terror attacks, and the courageous deeds of Kukka Parrey and the Ikhwan-ul –Muslimeen; Indians in Pakistan, is an action thriller, which explores the existence of cross border terrorism, the failure of the Pakistani state, the emotional bonding between people and the resilience of the human spirit. This exciting novel will entertain and enlighten you, revealing bitter truths, warped perceptions and diabolical designs, which together make the Indian subcontinent one of the most volatile and dangerous regions in the world. 


Both the Print and e-book versions of 'Indians in Pakistan' are now available for the Kindle, Smartphone & PC on leading online retail sites such as Amazon and Flipkart.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Let’s commemorate 9/11 this year by vowing to eradicate terrorism

Let’s commemorate 9/11 this year by vowing to eradicate terrorism from the face of the earth. To defeat these evil terrorists who perpetually threaten our world, we need to be aware of their bases, methods and designs. And there’s no better way of learning about them than by reading the action thriller “Indians in Pakistan”, which has it all: Romance, Information and Action (Category; Adult Fiction).

Buy this exciting novel in its Print or ebook format on leading online book retailers including Amazon, Pothi.com & Flipkart. The ebook format can be purchased on Amazon for less than 1 US$ or Rs 60 Only at http://www.amazon.in/Indians-Pakistan-Vivek-Pereira-ebook/dp/B00N0WYM5O

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Take the ALQ-ISI Bucket Challenge Today

Take the ALQ-ISI Bucket Challenge Today. GET DRENCHED and SHIVER OR Spread awareness of the Al Qaeda-ISI terror network in Pakistan by reading the action thriller #IndiansInPakistan #Novel #eBook which is available on Amazon - for approximately 1 US Dollar or Rs 60 - at http://www.amazon.com/Indians-Pakistan-Vivek-Pereira-ebook/dp/B00N0WYM5O

Was it a mere coincidence that several 9/11 terrorists were trained in Pakistan (at Karachi in 1999)? Was it a mere coincidence that the head of Pakistani Intelligence (ISI) was in Pakistan before, during & after the 9/11 attacks - supervising his “boys” and bargaining with the Bush administration for a softer penalty for Pakistan? Was it a mere coincidence that this same ISI Chief was sacked on Bush’s insistence after it was revealed that the main hijacker Mohammed Atta had wired the “balance money” (from the funds sent earlier by the ISI) via the Hawala route back to Omar Saeed Sheikh, who is well known for his role in the 2002 kidnapping and murder of Wall Street Journal reporter Daniel Pearl? Was it a mere coincidence that for over a decade after 9/11, Osama Bin Laden continued to live a luxurious life protected by the Pakistani intelligence and military establishment?

Learn more about this deadly ISI-AL Qaeda terror network responsible for other acts of terror such as the 2008 Mumbai attacks and the Boko Haram activities in Nigeria. Read about it in the amazing ebook “Indians in Pakistan,” which has it all – Action, Romance and Information. And do remember to spread awareness of the Al Qaeda-ISI nexus or be prepared to get DRENCHED TILL YOU SHIVER!

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Chapter 1: Indians in Pakistan (Free Preview)

We were not discernibly different from the other passengers on Flight PK-269. We spoke Urdu fluently just like most of them. We wore kurtas just like many of the other male passengers. There was nothing in our physical appearance that gave us away either. But we were different - we were Indians in Pakistan.

Irfan, my companion, was getting quite restless on the flight. He kept staring around at the other passengers in an extremely suspicious manner. I cursed my luck. The last person I wanted seated besides me right now was a jerk like Irfan. He kept having doubts, and I simply hated those who had doubts. We were doing this for our religion - and for the whole of mankind. When the whole world looked through our eyes then there would be nothing but peace. But till such time, there had to be some violence.



It was early March. It had been nearly a week since we left our homes in Lucknow for this jihadi mission. We had sneaked across the border into Nepal before boarding the PIA flight from Kathmandu to Karachi. The exact details of our mission had not yet been revealed to us, but we were confident that before the training got over they would give us a detailed briefing on what we were supposed to do.

‘Take it easy,’ I told my companion curtly.
‘We should never have left India, Zameer,’ Irfan complained. ‘Our jihad could have been waged over there itself without coming to Pakistan.’
‘Shhh,’ I whispered to the stupid fellow. ‘Be careful of what you speak. And talk softly, you fool.’
‘I’m sorry,’ replied Irfan, ‘but ever since we left Lucknow I’m feeling quite uneasy.’
‘We will also feel like this sometimes, you fool,’ I scolded him in an undertone. ‘This is our mission in life. This is what we do. We’re doing it for our God and for our religion. Just stay focused on the mission.’

There was a long period of silence as Irfan pondered over what I had just told him. I was angry at his stupidity, but I, too, lost focus for a while. My mind strayed back to the distant past. There was my mother asking me whether I hobnobbed with the gun-wielding militants in our area. I remember denying vehemently and stating that it was not the case. I had told her, rather untruthfully, that my friends were religious people who did not believe in violence. Then I remembered leaving home forever in a huff after a quarrel with my older brother over Kashmir. He had the temerity to insist that Kashmir was an integral part of India. Had he not been my brother and the head of my family at the time, I would surely have killed him on the spot. I hadn’t heard from my family since that day more than a decade ago.

But I had no regrets. When we fight for the glory of Islam, we need to forget our families and friends. We need to leave them behind and see the vision of the future - a world in which Islam reigns supreme over all religions and even over such evil doctrines as communism. Towards this end, we need to focus our thoughts and actions.


Irfan looked at me again. His manner was abrupt and nervous. Evidently, he had lost focus a long time ago. I wished there was some way I could keep him focused on our goals and ambitions. This reluctant rebel was straying away from us at a rapid pace.

‘How long is this flight taking, Zameer?’ he grumbled.
‘It’s not been that long since we left Kathmandu,’ I retorted. ‘It should land in an hour.’
‘Good,’ he remarked. ‘I just can’t wait to get off this plane, although I’m not too keen on stepping on Pakistani soil either.’
‘You should have stayed back home,’ I whispered, angrily. ‘Why did you come here anyway?’
‘Haroon threatened to wipe off my entire family if I didn’t volunteer for this mission.’

That’s what I didn’t like about some of these people. They forced and coerced reluctant Muslims like Irfan to join our cause. What was the use of all their actions if it didn’t come from the heart?

Haroon Rashid was a top Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT) commander, covertly living in India. He had formed numerous sleeper cells of local extremists ready to perpetrate acts of violence all over the country. These sleeper cells were randomly activated at regular intervals to unleash a spate of violence whenever the Pakistani bosses gave the orders. Rashid was in charge of LeT’s operations in the state of Uttar Pradesh. Since Irfan and I belonged to that state, Rashid was the one who had approached us for this mission.

Meanwhile, Irfan became quieter as he seemed to be mulling over the pros and cons of our mission. The other passengers on the flight were oblivious to our presence. We maintained this low profile until the plane landed at Karachi Airport. Irfan and I got off along with the other passengers.

At last, we were on Pakistani soil. Honestly, I was quite thrilled to set foot on Pakistani soil. Pakistan is revered by jihadis in much the same way as America is revered by capitalists. It was indeed a dream come true for me.

Irfan, on the other hand, walked cautiously on the ground at the airport as if it were heavily mined. There was one thing I could bet my entire life on. I was absolutely certain that that jerk would never kiss the soil in reverence.

At length, we approached a small group of men standing at the exit. One of them held a placard bearing our names. We simply nodded our heads to signal our arrival. They crowded around us.

‘Welcome to Karachi,’ said a burly man. ‘I’m Lieutenant Ashraf. I will be in charge of you during your stay here. You will do what I tell you - nothing more, nothing less. If you go against my command then God alone can help you.’

‘Hi, I’m Zameer Khan,’ I introduced myself nonchalantly. ‘This is my colleague, Irfan Ahmed.’
‘Assalamu Alaykum,’ greeted Irfan, in a subdued tone.
‘I’m Commander Inzamam of the ISI,’ a tall bearded man told us. ‘I will be coordinating with the head of this entire mission. This is him.’

Commander Inzamam’s finger pointed towards a man of short stature. His round head was completely bald but it still gave him a somewhat imposing appearance. There was a distinct coldness in his eyes that seemed to be an outpouring of the coldness in his soul. I shivered a bit. Yes, I had been trained to be cold and heartless by the local jihadi group in Lucknow, but this short man succeeded in giving me the creeps as well. He introduced himself as Commander Abu Hamza of the LeT.

After the introductions had been completed, the group split into different teams. Each team left the airport in a separate vehicle. There were four of us seated in the old jeep. Lieutenant Ashraf sat besides the chauffeur while I joined Irfan at the rear. There was utter silence for a while as the jeep sped past urban structures and headed towards a range of hills on the outskirts of the city.

My mind strayed once again to the past. This time it went further back to the riots that had erupted after the demolition of the Babri Masjid. I was only twelve years at the time, but I can still remember it all so vividly. My father had come to reach me to school that day. They told us that my school had been prematurely closed for the day due to the horrendous rioting that was taking place in the city. So, we turned back and headed towards our home. Suddenly, an unruly mob of rioters emerged from nowhere and charged towards us in a state of frenzy. Those crazy men were equipped with sticks and swords. They attacked my poor father, who fell helplessly to the ground. I was terrified and speechless. They walked away quietly without a sign of remorse in their cruel eyes.

I turned around hopelessly. The sight of blood streaming from my father’s mutilated body was simply horrific. I wept bitterly. My father had been such a good and pious man. All of us loved him a lot. It took me a really long time to get over the trauma of this cold-blooded murder.

Soon everybody knew me as the kid who was thirsting for revenge. It showed on my face and in my walk. I hoped and prayed for the opportunity to avenge the murder of my father. When I was just about sixteen years old, a group of fundamentalists convinced me to join their cause. They convinced me that jihad was the only way to find the peace which I was so desperately searching for. I had to join them and fight for the greater glory of Islam. Yes, that’s how I became a terrorist. Of all the militants who choose the path of violence, there are a few like me who are virtually driven to it.

All this simply shows us that communalism and terrorism are nothing but opposite sides of the same coin. They keep feeding on each other in a vicious cycle, resulting in a society full of violence, hatred, sorrow and intolerance. Every communal act is used as a justification for mindless acts of terrorism. Similarly, each act of terrorism is used as a justification for such horrible atrocities like genocide and ethnic cleansing. And, it is always the innocent people who get killed. This is the sad truth. Unfortunately, many of us realize this truth when it is too late. Some of us never do. Luckily, I realised it before the end.

The long spell of silence was finally broken by the burly lieutenant. His voice was loud and commanding.
‘Remember this. Whatever you see or do here should not be disclosed to anyone outside the camp. It is strictly confidential. If you reveal anything, you could jeopardize our cause and the whole jihad could be lost. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir,’ we declared in unison.
‘And remember not to mingle with each other as well,’ the lieutenant went on. ‘Just cooperate as much as possible with each other, but don’t interact with the other jihadis. This is not a place for socializing. If you want to socialize, I’ll stop the jeep right now and you can get off if you wish. Does anyone want to get off now? No, good! Remember this as well. In this camp, you will have to be serious and pious. You will have to offer namaz daily. Remember we are doing all this for our religion. The rest I will tell you when we reach our destination.’

Once again there was a long period of silence. I was quite happy that Irfan was not that irritating any more. I hoped for his sake that he was once again the master of his life. We did not need puppets to fight in the jihad. We needed men who would put their whole heart and soul into it. We needed men who were willing to make all kinds of sacrifices for the greater glory of Islam. We needed men who would even make the ultimate sacrifice for this noblest of causes. So many martyrs have laid down their lives in this global jihad in the hope that our cause will prevail. We were determined to overcome the forces of evil existing in this world.

The vehicle moved quickly on the dusty tar road. It moved westwards and I presumed that we were somewhere near the Baluchistan border. I had done a lot of research before sneaking into Nepal for this mission. I had gone through the detailed maps of our subcontinent. The other jihadis living with me in the Lucknow apartment had supplied valuable information on the geography and history of Pakistan and India. Of course, the historical versions fed to me were not that accurate. They never are!

Ali who had once trained in the famous Muridke camp gave me a thorough briefing on what to expect after I had landed in Karachi. It was Ali himself who had introduced me to Haroon Rashid after learning about the tragedy that had befallen me. Till then I had been a radical jihadi without a mission, a rebel without a clearly defined cause.

Meanwhile, the colour of the sky turned to a pale orange as the sun began to set. But the light was still good, and the chauffeur manoeuvred the jeep skilfully on the winding road. He was not a regular Lashkar operative like us but a member of the large support team that had been specially recruited for this camp.

Soon we reached a desolate hilly area that reminded me a lot of the Himalayan foothills in Uttar Pradesh. In fact, the entire terrain had reminded me of India. But I was in Pakistan and there was no remorse at all in my heart for what I intended to do. I was just paying them back in their own currency, the currency of blood.

‘We are approaching the camp,’ Lieutenant Ashraf told us in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Now relax and enjoy as much as you can. After we reach the camp, there will be no time for relaxation and enjoyment.’



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Friday, August 15, 2014

The Vivekean Version of the Prodigal Son

(An Extract from Indians in Pakistan, the Action Thriller on terrorism)

‘It was all my fault,’ I said frankly. ‘I was blind then but now I see the truth. You were right and I was wrong.’
‘Mother would have been happy to see you,’ he told me, sadly. ‘Too bad she’s not around.’
‘Wh - where is she?’ I asked, looking around frantically for her.
‘It’s too late,’ he said. ‘She’s no longer in this world.’
‘Mother, mother,’ I continued, not heeding him. ‘Mother where are you?’
‘She’s dead, dear brother. She’s in heaven now.’
‘No, it cannot be. She cannot die! I need to tell her how much I love her. I need to tell her how sorry I am for walking away. I wanted to introduce her to Najma, my wife. I wanted to - ’

Words failed me at that moment and I sank to my knees. There were plenty of kind words from everyone around but there was nothing that could console me – not even the beautiful hands of Najma wrapped around my neck. I was truly inconsolable.

Visit the Fan Page of this exciting novel at https://www.facebook.com/IndiansInPakistan

Read the preview at
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Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Acche Din Aanewale *conditions apply

(A fictional Shakespearean speech by Amit Shah, Narendra Modi’s Mark Anthony - conceptualisation and translation by Vivek Pereira)

Fiends, Minorities and other second-class citizens, lend me your ears (or we’ll chop them right off and take them during the next riots, anyways). I come to praise NaMo not to bury him. The evil that men do lives after us. Goodness was never in my bones. So it is with NaMo. The noble Uma Bharati had once called Modi ‘Vinash Purush’ and he responded with “Et tu, Uma” and then took the help of the RSS to vanquish her. For NaMo is an honourable man…if you do not count his role in the 2002 riots and its subsequent cover-up, Snoopgate, various fake encounters, corrupt crony capitalistic dealings with Adani-Ambani, his disdainful treatment of senior leaders like Jaswant Singh, Advani, etc.

The next to wound him grievously was Smriti Irani, the saas-cum-bahu who announced that she would go on a fast unto death - in line with Ekta Kapoor’s ‘Acche Sanskaar’ - if Modi did not step down as CM. Godrej, other business leaders and human right activists then threatened to punish NaMo for the 2002 riots. But ambition is made of sterner stuff. His critics became astonishingly silent with threats, awards and fair compensation. Ratan Tata received an award from the ruling Vajpayee government and got land for his dream project: the highly unimaginative Nano. Business leaders now started flocking around Modi with sheer greed and elastic principles. But NaMo is an honourable man and he rewarded them for their support many times over. Then, he targeted top cops like Sanjiv Bhatt who saved many lives during the riots but claimed that Modi was far from innocent during the mayhem.  

And thought the ghosts of Gujarat continued to haunt, Modi became the BJP’s Prime Ministerial candidate and promised the Indian electorate “Acche Din” in his campaign if he was voted in to power at the centre. And now he has won by a huge margin to become the Prime Minister of India. But NaMo is an honourable man and if you are surprised that there are ‘bure din’ instead of ‘acche din’ for you, then you probably did not read the “CONDITIONS APPLY” disclaimer in your haste to remove the UPA Government or rather the “Vatican-backed Delhi Sultanate.” For "acche din" would be delivered to you only if the following CONDITIONS are met: The horrific socio-political instability in the Middle East improves dramatically, oil prices fall mysteriously (instead of moving upwards), Sanghis stop persecuting minorities, neighbouring countries become genuinely friendly towards India and Pigs learn to fly.

Yes, it will be Acche Din for you if you are an Ambani or Adani, a rioter (such as member of the Hindu Rashtra Sena) who targets minorities, a union minister with a track record of rape, an HRD minister who has illegally fudged her educational qualifications, right wing activists like Col Purohit involved in terror plots, corrupt fascist politicians involved in scams in MP and Karnataka, international oil companies and people like Saheb and myself, Amit Shah, who are now in a position to quash the multitudes of potential cases against us and have started conjuring riot-like situations in states like UP and Maharashtra which are going to the polls! Yes, it is truly acche din for ‘honourable’ men like us.