The audience troops into the theatre, walk slowly behind courteous ushers who help them to their seats. They sit expectantly, looking at the curtain, and suddenly see itturning red, then blue, then fiery yellow, and in a few seconds, the colours intermingle, becoming one, with a single rainbow streak going along into the sky!

“Wow!” cry the people, “Wow!”

They sit mesmerized, watching the shimmering cloth transforming itself, entertaining them. They scream with pleasure at the entertaining curtain.

They sit through the whole show, watching the curtain, laughing, chuckling, grinning, smiling as ruffian red cloth, oftimes the brigand blue, moves from the top, envelopes the yielding yellow. Then watch as same impish yellow tries to get away and blue fabric chases it, then splashesherself all over the red.

The audience rise at the end of the show and make their way home.

“How was the play?” ask their sons, daughters, friends later.

“Play?” they ask.“What play?”

“But you went to see a play?”

“The curtain was more interesting!The green going into the yellow!And so funny when red crashed into the blue!”

“Didn’t the curtain open?”


“But weren’t you interested in seeing what was happening behind the curtain?”

“The curtain was interesting enough!” say the people nodding at each other in agreement, “Who’s interested in seeing anything behind!”

And in a bigger theatre called India, the same seems to be happening: There’s a play going on, actors and actresses acting their part, doing their roles, voicing their lines. Their faces filled with anger, their speech with communal hate.

They stick their swords and daggers, not wooden swords and daggers given to them in the original script, but real ones, made of steel, or deadlier ones, made of hateful speech, which they thrust onto unsuspecting crowds who wounded cry and shout and look at us the audience for support.

But we the audience sit impassive, laughing, giggling, smiling, interested only in watching the curtain.

Yes, the curtain of Padmavati, the curtain of our beloved PMs foreign jaunts, the curtain of newspapers full of tributes from small leaders, and clever WhatSapp cartoonand video curtains lampooning opposition leaders amuse and entertain us, keeping us occupied, as those behind the same entertaining cloth, fall wounded, are kicked, lynched, raped and murdered.

The world asks: “Your country seems to be having more rapes than the rest of the world?”

“Lots of communal tension after the present government came in?”

“Demonetization has killed your economy!”

But we stare only at the curtain. Fooled into vehement anger whether Padmavathy should be screened or not, gulled into watching the prime minister’s new clothes, his hands drumming Chinese drums, while what is happening behind the curtain, ceases to interest us!

Are we, you and I, not seeing the play?

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By Yogi Ashwini

In this series of articles, I have been taking you through the chakra beej kriya which comprises of a set of asans and dhwanis to tap into the phenomenal power of six major chakras in the body namely Mooladhar, Swadhishthan, Manipoorak, Anahad, Vishuddhi and Agya. This technique is a part of self healing with Sanatan Kriya and the practioner can make desired changes in the body and surroundings through the power of consciousness. We have discussed the asans till the Anahad chakra and now will proceed to the Vishuddhi chakra.

Vishuddhi (The Throat Chakra)

: It is located in the Adam’s apple area in the throat region. It controls the thyroid glands and the power of voice. It is also responsible for controlling the breath. At the pranic level it is the seat for higher creativity. Its base element is ether. The beej mantra for this chakra is HAM.

Having returned from the chakra asan to the resting position, take your awareness to the Visshuddhi chakra, and begin the chant of HAM. Now we graduate into the asans for this chakra,

Halasana (Plough Pose)

: Lie on your back and take a deep breath. Resting the arms next to the body and holding the breath, gently raise both legs in a vertical position. Bend elbows to support the back with your hands and gently roll the buttocks and spine off the floor to lower the legs over the head. Try to touch your toes to the floor. Hold the posture for as long as comfortable while maintaining Ujjai breath.

Those suffering from sciatica, spinal and neck injuries or high blood pressure should refrain from performing this asana.

Sarvangasana (Shoulder Stand Pose)

: From the halasana, bring your legs to the front and using elbow support, place your hands on the upper back to roll the buttocks and spine off the floor such that the entire body upto the upperback is in a straight line perpendicular to the floor. Body is supported by the elbows, nape of neck, shoulders and head. The chest is pressed against the chin. Hold this posture for as long as comfortable while breathing in Ujjai and gently come back.

This asana should not be practiced by people with heart ailments, spinal problems, high blood pressure, during menstruation and pregnancy.

Vipreetkarni (Inverted Pose)

: From sarvangasana, lower your hips a little supporting them with your hands while resting the elbows on ground such that the legs are perpendicular to the ground while the spine is tilted at an angle of forty-five degrees. The shoulders and head stay on the ground, chin is partially tucked into the chest. Retain the posture while breathing in Ujjai.

This asana should not be practiced by people suffering from cervical spondylitis, slip disc, high blood pressure, during menstruation and pregnancy. This asana has the reversing effect of channelizing the nectar towards the Sahastrara and works wonders in dealing with grey hair, wrinkles and sagging skin.

In the next article, we will discuss the properties, asans and mantras for the Agya chakra. It is advised that you visit your nearest Dhyan Foundation center to learn the correct way to practice asans. The effect of all these asans becomes manifold when practiced under the guidance of your Guru who channelises energy into each asan.

Yogi Ashwini is the Guiding Light of Dhyan Foundation and an authority on the Vedic Sciences. His book, 'Sanatan Kriya, The Ageless Dimension' is an acclaimed thesis on anti-ageing. Log onto to or mail to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. for more.

With the acquittal of the Talwars, new findings in the murder of the murdered Delhi schoolboy, and the astounding reply given by the airlines after their employees mercilessly bashed up a passenger, I’ve firmly come to believe we have a master fiction writer in our country who writes tales stranger than fiction!

“That’s his house!” said a local to me, “And that room right on top is where he writes his stories!”I climbed up the steps of the fiction writer’s fancy home and waited in his living room. I didn’t have long to wait, as the storyteller greeted me with folded hands, “Welcome!” he said, “I’m just doing a piece onNov 8th being Anti-Black Money Day: Bit of a difficult piece though!”

“Who hires you?” I asked curtly.

“Mostly government, quite often the police!” he said, “But they are bad pay masters so I don’t put too much masala into their stories, and within five years or so, the plots crack up!”

“Like the Talwar case?” I asked, and the fiction writer nodded. “Silly plot!” he said, “Took me five minutes to write, but strangely held for a while. Even got them into jail. The inspectormanaged to tell it well in front of the cameras, till this high court judge realized it was mere fiction!”

“But your plots get the wrong people in jail,” I said crossly.

“I’m paid to write stories,” said the writer, “it’s you guys who believe every word I write!”

“That Delhi schoolboy murder was not a nice thing!” I said, “Blaming that poor bus driver!”

“The police came running to me,” laughed the fiction writer, “asked me to cook up a story that would get them off the hook, sort of take the heat off them, and I did just that!”

“And now for this airline you write a rejoinder about the beating up of a passenger?” I asked, “You’ve mentioned that the sacked whistleblower, the person shooting the video was actually egging the employees on to bash the poor man! How can you expect people to believe that?”

“They will!” cried the storywriter chuckling, “I find the public swallow whatever I write. You people have become such fans of my fiction that I don’t have to think too hard about making convincing police, private or government plots anymore; anything is believable! Half the innocent people in jail are there, because of my stories!”

“While the real culprits roam free!” I whispered.

“Like I said, it’s my bread and butter to write!”

“And ours to believe!” I said bitterly as I walked down the steps and out of the house. Outside, I saw  Whatsapp groups and online readers nodding as they believedfictitious stories and fake news, made up by such storywriters for the gullible people of our nation, who have not yet learned to separate fact from fiction..!”

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Last Sunday Washington wore a worried frown, as officials of the mightiest country in the world, met security personal, and senators met congressmen, “He’s coming to the Philippines, Asean Summit!” they all whispered.

“Who?” asked a new intern in Trump’s team innocently, “Who’s coming?”

“The Hugger!” whispered a senior colleague, “Now be quiet, let’s listen how they’re going to deal with the hugger!” They entered the room of very worried officials, “We were caught unawares!” said a secret service agent, “We did not expect him to hug the president the last time he was here!”

“Is it an Indian tradition?” asked a Republican senator.

“No sir, they frown at hugging down there, even have the police arresting anyone who hugs in public!”

“Then why come and hug here?” asked a visibly annoyed senator.

There was silence in the room.

“The President seemed unhappy with the incident!” said a security officer, “Said it took him a lot of ironing to get rid of the creases from the bearhug!”

“He does hug passionately!” observed another secret service agent.

“That’s a threat to our Chief!” whispered the same senator. “You guys better come up with a solution, our President should not be the object of sudden assaults! We paid quite a price for the last one, with Pakistan wanting to do the same,even Bangladesh sending a formal request for a presidential hugging!”

“Gives Donald quite a tummy ache later; this holding and squeezing!” said the senator angrily.

“I could step between just when he is about to hug!” suggested the secret service agent.

“Would cause quite a diplomatic embarrassment!” said the senator, “And we know how prickly Indians are. We don’t want him going over to Russia and hugging Putin the rest of his life!”

“Couldn’t we put the First Lady between?” asked a foreign service official, who’d not spoken till now, and showed some annoyance when the senator sniggered, “He’ll just lean across and hug our President! Brushing aside women doesn’t bother him!”

“I think I have a solution,” said the young intern who had come in as an observer.

“Son, your job is to watch and be silent!” whispered his senior colleague sternly to him.

“Let him speak,” said the senator, “We’ve run out of ideas to keep the Indian Prime Minister from hugging our President, what is it?”

“Keep the photographers out!” said the young intern, “He’s not interested in the hug, he’s interested in the billions in India seeing the pic; likes showing he’s a friend of powerful people!”

“Brilliant!” said the senator, “Pass the word along, when the meeting is coming to a close, shove the photographers out!”

“That was very clever of you!” said his senior colleague as they filed out, “Just heard the President’s given you a ten dollar raise for saving his suits from getting crumpled and creased..!”

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There’s no automated car wash around where I live, no fancy water jets that spray my car while I sit smiling inside, imagining I’m under the Niagara. All we have are car washers who walk from car to car every morning, and clean the outsides and insides with cloth and water.Have been quite happy with the arrangement till a friend, who sometimes travels with me, pointed to a stain in the cup holder, “Don’t you have someone to wash your car Bob?”

That’s when I vowed to catch the car washer at his job.

I watched next day as he walked to my car, his movements smooth and fluid; in a single gesture, he dipped the already dirty cloth into a bucket of greyish brownwater and continuing the cycle, the cloth came out wet, and was splashed onto the sides of the car. I watched, dirty grimy water trickling down, then the wiping of same water at a speed which would have left my windshield wipers ashamed. In a jiffy, he’d finished my car, moved to my wife’s car, then repeated the same with my daughter’s!

Three cars washed in a few moments. Three cars a little dirtier than before, washed with a filthy rag, with deft, convincing gestures.

I see those same gestures fooling the rest of the world. Even nations that have automatic car washers are fooled by their president’s gestures.

A truck mows down innocents on a cycle track in Manhattan, “We’ll give him the death penalty!” gestures the country’s president.

Corruption is rampant in the Indian sub-continent, “Demonetize!” gestures the prime minister.

Terrorism gets rampant in England, “Brexit!” screams the English Prime Minister.

And fooled people believe their nation is washed clean.

I remember getting into my car, my newly washed car, and my friend looking at the cupholder and his nose wrinkling up.

Noses are wrinkling up today in the world. In the USA people wonder whether the quick twittering gesture their president uses is dirtying their country more than ever before.

In India, reports from financial papers and experts suggest the Indian economy took a nosedive after the car washing demonetization gesture that the prime minister so thoughtlessly made.

In England it’s the same, as the English gestured to move away from Europe and face the crumbling of their already crippled economy as they try to stand alone.

Closer home I see such car washing gestures in social clubs that are supposed to have dental, diabetic and cancer camps for the poor, having them instead, in places where only the rich will benefit.

Empty gestures, futile, useless, pointless, and all in vain!

Terrorists continue attacking.Gunmen continue shooting.Black money continues increasing, and the poor continue dying of diabetes and cancer, as the car washers in suits, skirts and Modi jackets, fool their people with deft, deceptive, defectivegestures..!

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