WARNING! BOTTLE BOMBS

Brothers and sisters, we need to protect each other.This is some very important information that might save your hands, your eyes or even your life. This has been verified by snopes, the outfit that busts Internet hoaxes. They are the best. This is happening in the USA right now, but the chemistry is very simple and, no doubt, will spread. Friends, please be very, very careful.

Kids are putting Drano (sodium hydroxide), one other common household item and a little water in soda bottles and capping it up - leaving it on lawns. When you go to pick up the trash, and the bottle is shaken just a little - in about 30 seconds or less it builds up a gas and explodes with enough force to remove some of your extremities. The liquid that comes out is boiling hot hydrochloric (muratic) acid, of which even a small amount causes severe acid burns as well.

Don't pick up any plastic bottles that may be lying in your yards or in the gutter, etc. Pay attention to this. A plastic bottle with a cap. A little Drano. A little water. A common household item.   Disturb it by moving it; and BOOM!! No fingers left and other serious effects to your face, eyes, etc.

People are finding these "bombs" in mailboxes and in their yards, just waiting for you to pick it up intending to put it in the trash. But, you'll never make it!!! It takes about 30 seconds to blow after you move the thing. 

Kids are doing this for kicks.

This is evil in its purest form.  Violence for the sake of violence.  Destruction for its own sake.  No goal.  No point.  No purpose.  No way to negotiate.  A step beyond political terrorism. 

See "SNOPES" below -- it's true -- the video at SNOPES shows the Indiana State Police Bomb Squad detonating one -- it's truly horrifying!
..... .. I checked "Truth or Fiction" and "they" agree this is TRUTH!!!

So be warned and beware.

As stated above, at present, these have appeared only in the USA. However, they are so easy to make that almost certainly,they will soon be appearing in many places.

Here is what it looks like:

PLEASE READ WHAT IS ON THE SNOPES SITE. SPREAD THE WORD.
More: http://www.snopes.com/crime/warnings/bottlebomb.asp

Monsters And Brothers - Thoughts on the Death of Osama bin Laden

Osama bin Laden is dead.

A simple statement.  The new reality. 

Osama bin Laden is dead.  The boogie man is no more. 

Who was Osama bin Laden and how can I react?  Was he a monster as so many believe?

There are several sorts of monsters.  Some live in the dark.  You know the type.  They hide in the closet or under your bed – or in the deepest recesses of your mind – until the lights are turned off.  Then you must protect yourself by pulling the covers up over your head and lying very, very still.  These monsters disappear when you pull the covers away and confront them directly and you find they were nothing more than creations of your own mind.

Not all monsters are imaginary, though.  They are there, obvious, unavoidable, all too visible.  They have names like Aurangzeb, Adolf Hitler, Pol Pot.   They do their deeds openly, for all to see, apparently without conscience or caring.  These are the ones who run roughshod over the values that we as humans treasure, lacking compassion, seemingly finding pleasure tormenting those with whom they share they earth.  On a smaller scale, we call them bullies.  They torment those who are weaker than they, unable to defend themseves. Their deeds are malicious, finding joy in the suffering of others.  They are murderers of the spirits of others and sometimes murderers of the body, as well.    

Then there are the monsters who are invisible, living among us, unseen.  Child molesters and rapists not yet caught, undiscovered  serial murderers, corrupt and dangerous politicians and cops, more that you can add to the list.  These monsters, unlike the first type are real and they know who they are.  I do not know whether they choose to be monsters or are forced by some inner compulsion  to do their evil deeds.

There is another type of monster, the kind that has no idea that s/he is a monster at all.  The next door neighbour who hates Hindus or Christians or Muslims or Sikhs or Jews is a very naive sort of monster. Perhaps the hatred is directed at black people or  brown people or yellow people or pink (white) people.  (Those called “red” are really brown.)  Maybe the prejudice is aimed at girl children and women, or at men.  Then, of course, there are the xenophobes, those who hate foreigners or indeed strangers of any sort.    For my readers specifically of Indian background, I would include caste prejudice in this unsavoury list.  I suspect that more of us are this sort of monster than would care to admit it.  Perhaps, even I sometimes am a naive monster. 

It is possible for the naive monster to act on her/his prejudices and become a full-blown bigot and a genuine, visible monster.

Then there is the monster who so deeply believes in a cause that s/he will do whatever is necessary to realise that cause.  No matter if civilians are killed by accidents (collateral damage) or on purpose (terrorism).   No matter the damage done because the cause is all.  The end justifies the means.  Was Osama bin Laden this sort of monster?

Or was he the worst sort, the most evil who cynically leads others in a cause – perhaps for power and glory – that he himself had ceased to believe in or had never believed in?

I have no way of knowing which of these monsters he was.

Or perhaps he wasn’t a monster at all.  Perhaps he was a soul who got lost in the swirling changing mass of stuff around us that we call the World or Maya. 

Whatever he was I am not sorry he is dead.  He was a scumbag and I think the world is better off without him.  My entire being, however, is repelled at public celebrations of his death.  I understand them.  I myself felt like celebrating when Indira Gandhi was killed.  I did not celebrate, but that might have been simply because circumstances prevented it.   I was wrong then, as people celebrating now are wrong now. 

However evil and vile his deeds, are we just mouthing platitudes when we say all people are children of the same Parent, whatever name you personally use for the Creator?   I have lost a brother.  A brother who did evil deeds, a brother I am glad to be rid of, a brother I did not love, but a brother nevertheless.   It is at times like this that I find it necessary to deeply examine my own beliefs and I find myself not without hypocrisy.  I know that Indira Gandhi is my sister, but I am not yet ready to feel it. 

John Donne’s immortal lines, which I have heard no one quote at this time, come to my mind.

No man is an island entire of itself; every man 
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; 
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe 
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as 
well as a manor of thy friends or of thine 
own were; any man's death diminishes me, 
because I am involved in mankind. 
And therefore never send to know for whom 
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

I must ask myself how does the death of this man, Osama bin Laden, diminish me.  I am not yet able to answer this.

OSAMA BIN LADEN in 1998

Internet Freedom in the World's Largest Democracy.

I do not know how much press coverage this has been getting in India, so I will cover it here.

There has just been passed a horrendous law the effectively ends free expression on the Internet in the Republic of India.  It forbids Internet writers to: 

Section 3:  use, display, upload, modify, publish, transmit, update, share or store any

information that : —...

 (2 ) (b) - is harmful, threatening, abusive, harassing,  blasphemous,objectionable, defamatory, vulgar, obscene,  pornographic,paedophilic,  libellous, invasive of another's privacy, hateful, orracially, ethnically or otherwise objectionable, disparaging, relating orencouraging money laundering or gambling, or otherwise unlawful inany manner whatever;

First, looking at (b),  no matter what is written someone, somewhere,  among the  1.2 billion people in India will find it “otherwise objectionable.”  This, in itself - if enforced -   

effectively ends all freedom of expression on the Net.

And furthermore

 (j) threatens the unity, integrity, defence, security or sovereignty of India,

friendly relations with foreign states, or or public order or  causes

incitement to the commission of any cognisable offence or prevents

investigation of any offence or is insulting any other nation.

Next, looking at the first clause of  (j) - threatens the unity, integrity, defence, security or sovereignty of India – that would seem to forbid any mention of Khalistan or any other liberation movement within the Republic. I find it somewhat amusing that it also means it is against the law to speak ill of Pakistan and China!  It does, after all, include anything that is insulting any other nation.

This law will, of course, be selectively enforced, the government of India (GOI) blocking sites it does not like.  This blog is a very small player in the blogosphere and probably beneath the notice of the GOI, officially, at least.  I want to ensure my beloved readers that I will continue to write as I always have, encouraging the self-determination of the Sikh Qaum and the chardi kala of the Panth.  However, preparing for the worst, anyone who would like to receive e-mail copies of my posts, please contact me directly and I will put you on my mailing list.

I am writing and publishing from the United States of America and I have been careful to follow the laws of this land.  As I am a strong believer in freedom of speech and freedom of the press, I do not follow the ridiculous restrictions of censorship laws of India.  Reading blank pages would be boring to you, I'm afraid.

I do not know what will happen in the future, that, of course, will be the Hukam of Vaheguru.  Perhaps nothing will happen.  We can always hope and pray for the best – and of course, prepare for the worst.  Whatever happens, please know that I personally love you all and you are ever in my heart and in my prayers.

The entire text of this law can be found at http://www.mit.gov.in/sites/upload_files/dit/files/due_dilligance4intermediary07_02_11.pdf

SIKH TURBAN DAY 2011

Tomorrow - Today in India - is Sikh Turban Day.  In honour of that, I am posting my favourite turban picture  (I know you've seen it before.  It's still my favourite!)

Sant Ji Tying His Turban - 1984?

Ans my favourite turban video.  (How about a forty under your turban?)

SIKH TURBAN DAY 2011

Tomorrow - Today in India - is Sikh Turban Day.  In honour of that, I am posting my favourite turban picture  (I know you've seen it before.  It's still my favourite!)

Sant Ji Tying His Turban - 1984?

Ans my favourite turban video.  (How about a forty under your turban?

OF KHALSA AND SAMURAI - REPRISE.

I think with all the attention on Japan these days, some of you might enjoy reading my earlier post about a Samurai lady meeting two Khalsa in San Francisco.  First, I have constructed a picture as my tribute to the people of Japan, which I will share with you here.

My Tribute to the People of Japan

This is my recognition of the spirit, courage and civility of the Japanese people and their response to the recent trisaster.

This is a reminder that the Sun is always shining. Sometimes we just can't see her.

Below is the the devastation of the earthquake and tsunami, while Fujiyama soars above the tragedy. Above all, the benevolent presence of Amaterasu-no-Kami, the Sun Goddess and chief deity of the Shinto religion, gives her blessing and strength to her people, the people of Japan.

(Note: I am neither Shinto nor Japanese. If I have hurt anybody's religious sensibilities, please let me know and I will correct the matter.)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

With much thanks to Derek Visser. Three of his photos were used to make the Fukushima plant here:
www.flickr.com/photos/vizpix/5530864283/
www.flickr.com/photos/vizpix/5529845859/
www.flickr.com/photos/vizpix/5529038135/

To the United States Air Force
www.flickr.com/photos/usairforce/5529732202/
and
the US Pacific Fleet(Navy)
www.flickr.com/photos/compacflt/5529922582/

I believe all other images used are in the Public Domain.
******************************************************************************

OF KHALSA AND SAMURAI

A few weeks ago, we visited the San Francisco Bay Area, courtesy of one of my husband's nephews. I was the first time I have been to San Francisco, Mani's favourite American city, since the events of 1984. Such memories, it brought back! I can't really share these with anyone here, so I'm sharing them with you, my online friends.

San Francisco

One year, I think it was 1978, but I'm not sure, we decided to celebrate our anniversary/my birthday by taking a holiday in San Francisco. Very unusual for us, we decided to leave Sandeep in the safe hands of the family and set off for nine days and eight nights in The City By The Bay. Family had our hotel number, of course, along with a promise not to phone unless it was a life-altering emergency. No such emergency occurred and we had a wonderful time. OK, I'll fess up. We called home each evening to say hi to our Sikhling.

One of the few things Mani and I could never agree about was our manner of dress. His appearance was very important to him. His clothes were always perfect, his turban beautifully tied, shoes, when he wore them, perfectly shined. He even ironed his jeans! (I refused to do that because I thought it was stupid.) I, on the other hand, insisted only that my clothes be neat and clean and cover me decently. And be comfortable. They must be comfortable. Beyond that, I really didn't much care what I looked like. We did agree on a few important points. No high heels, no dresses, no make-up.


On the farm, my appearance didn't matter all that much. He expected me to be a bit messed up, mucking around with the cows and goats and chickens (kept for fertiliser) and also with our various crops. I usually indulged him in the evenings by showering or lounging in the Jacuzzi for a while and then putting on a Punjabi suit, a salwar kameez. He usually lounged around evenings in kurta pajama. We might not have been a Punjabi couple, but except for his grey eyes and my brown hair and pasty skin, we certainly looked like one.

For our trip to San Francisco, we reached a compromise. During the day, while we were walking, hiking, goofing off, I would wear jeans - ironed by him! - and something colourful and attractive on my top. This was necessary because walking shoes look really stupid with dressy clothes. When we went out in the evenings, I would dress to the nines, looking every inch the proper lady, while he also dressed up - in full bana! He looked really cool in bana - what Sikh doesn't? - and he looked somehow silly in a suit.

We quickly found out that many fine San Francisco restaurants had a dress code that men had to wear jacket and tie. We avoided those. As Mani said, "They probably don't have decent vegetarian food anyway. We had a glorious time, walking from the Embarcadero to the Pacific Ocean - one side of San Francisco to the other, rambling through Golden Gate Park, exploring those strange, little neighbourhood shops that San Francisco seems to be full of. We spent a whole day at Fisherman's Wharf, watching the tourists shiver. Most people don't realise that San Francisco is quite cool most of the time, and so dress inappropriately for the weather. We also went hiking in the Muir Woods amidst the giant redwoods and hiking up Mt. Tamalpais across the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County.


I really want to write about one particular afternoon and evening. We decided to go see a Toshiro Mifune movie playing in a theatre in Japan Town.

Toshiro Mifune

Japan Town, San Francisco

Mani gave me those cow eyes and asked me to dress up, even though it was only afternoon. I said it was too early, if I had to dress up I'd wear bana, too. He grinned at me and agreed. We ended up dressed exactly alike except he had a saffron turban, while I used a chunni. (We should have tied a turban on me, I now realise, but for some reason, we didn't think of it.) And, unlike him, I carried the more usual short kirpan. I admit we made a grand-looking couple, him in a dark blue chola, saffron-coloured gatra containing a full-length kirpan, and, of course, his perfectly tied turban, me similarly clad. Him tall and towering and masculine, the perfect Khalsa warrior, me short and slender, yet with the full figure of a fertility goddess, also the perfect Khalsa warrior, except in a battle, I'd have to ditch the chunni. As he said, "We look goooooood!"

We arrived for the afternoon matinee and, much to our surprise, there were only a very few others attending. I guess weekday afternoons don't bring out the samurai crowd. A very lovely Japanese lady, clad in traditional kimono, not only sold us tickets, but also tended the refreshments counter and acted less like an usher than like a hostess. When we first came in, she looked at Mani shyly, but still with open curiosity and perhaps a bit of apprehension. She was even shorter than I am; he must have seemed a giant to her. "Sir, "she asked in a heavily accented voice, with that high, squeaky voice that Japanese women traditionally affect, "may I ask you a question?" She waited for him to answer, which he did in the affirmative.

Our lady was really quite a few years older

I just knew she was going to ask if he were an Arab, but she surprised me. "I see you have a katana, a sword. Are you some sort of a samurai among your people?"  In spite of the accent, her English was excellent.



We were both startled at that question; I was very curious how he would answer. "We are Sikhs who have been initiated into the Khalsa Knighthood, so I suppose you could consider us a sort of samurai." He went on to explain a bit about Sikhi, which she had never heard of. When he finished, she was grinning broadly, obviously happily impressed.
Then she turned to me and said, "Great lady, you are also this Khalsa?"

Great lady! I could live with that. I smiled at her and replied, 

"Yes."

Her smile faded briefly as she asked, "Then why do you have such a small sword?" I didn't really have a good answer, so, on the spur of the moment, I came up with the explanation that I was so short that it would drag the ground., Actually, that is close to the truth. The answer seemed to satisfy her and her smile returned. She also wanted to see them both unsheathed; we were happy to oblige.

Shastars

She was obviously impressed and asked if there was anything she could do to make us comfortable. She clearly wanted to do something, so one of us suggested that some Japanese tea would be nice. I mentioned that we were visiting San Francisco to celebrate our wedding anniversary as well as my birthday. She brightened up immediately. "Then you must have long noodles for long life to celebrate." He explained that we were vegetarians and ate only "Buddhist food." (We had learned that was the easiest way to get correct food in what used to be called Oriental restaurants.)

"No meat. No egg. Tofu is OK?" She asked."

A bit taken aback, we agreed.
"I be right back. You go sit down, enjoy watching the people stab each other." She disappeared into a back room and we went into the theatre and watched "the people stab each other."

After a time, she returned with a large tray of not only with tea and noodles (in miso soup), but also a sumptuous feast of vegetarian sushi, inari sushi, norimaki with vegetable and tofu filling, and small mounds of vinegared rice with various thinly sliced vegetables on top where normally there would be raw fish. And lots of wasabi, ginger and shoyu.

Vegetarian sushi

We were both overwhelmed. She ignored our reaction and arranged one tray on the seat to Mani's left and another to my right, dividing the food between us. "Now eat and enjoy while you watch movie." She smiled, bowed and walked away. What could we do? We ate and enjoyed and watched the movie. And wondered what was going on. After the movie, we found out, while eating some vegetable tempura that she brought in.


"I am Shinto," she told us. "I worship Amaterasu-no-Kami, the Sun Goddess, our foremother.

Amaterasu-no-Kami

"Last night, she sent me a dream that I would meet some great warriors, not Japanese, but worthy to be samurai. I saw you and knew she had blessed me with your holy presence, so I could have the honour of serving you. I am descended from a very old samurai family that was impoverished when the samurai class was outlawed. They took all our swords and melted them down. You know, all our women were also taught martial arts and sword fighting, so we could protect our homes and our honour, if need be. Without our swords, what could we be?"

Samurai swords

She was clearly speaking from deep in her heart, speaking as if these things happened recently, instead of in the previous century. I wanted to see your kirpans" - she stumbled over the word - "so I could honour my ancestors." We didn't quite understand that last statement and didn't ask. Somehow asking seemed cold. "There is one more thing, please." She pulled out a small book wrapped in a silk cloth and handed it to me. (Why not him? I do not know.) This is the Bushido Book, The Code of the Warrior. I think you do not know Japanese, but please accept it as my gift." We were quite overwhelmed. The book was obviously quite old, probably a family heirloom. Still, it was unthinkable to refuse it. We took it and kept it always among our few treasured possessions.

A commercial edition of the book she gave us

A most important note: As usual most of these pictures are roached from the Internet, compliments of Google Search. Two are not. That strange-looking being on the Golden Gate Bridge is me, as a giant Nihang. Why not?

That very handsome Sardar Ji I have used to illustrate bana is the father of my little sister Kamal Kaur. His name is Sarbjeet Singh Ji and he, like my own Dad, is a Canadian from Punjabi. Notice the twinkle in his eyes and that lovely smile.

Sarbjeet Singh Ji

My medical caretaker,Irene pointed out to me that if he is my sister's father, then he must also be my Dad. An interesting idea, as I believe he is somewhat younger than my 57 years! My thanks to these two for letting me use this picture. 


One further note about Kamal Ji. You might have noticed her listed as an author, although she has never contributed a post. This is for a very special reason. For some time, she has been downloading and saving each post's html on her computer. Anything can happen on the Internet. This site could be hacked, Blogger could decide to delete it for some reason, new laws in America might restrict the freedom of speech and/or the press. If this blog should, for any reason disappear from the blogosphere, dear Kamal Ji will have preserved it, so it will not be destroyed. Of course, I also download it to my computer, but my poor old compy isn't very reliable and if something should happen to me, it might sit forever here with no one the wiser. So she is performing a great sewa, in my opinion. This will probably embarrass her, but, little sister, I want to thank you from my heart for doing this.