India has quietly become the global headquarters of war expertise. Not in the Pentagon. Not in NATO headquarters. Not even in the United Nations. No, the real military command centres are located in Indian living rooms, park benches, paan shops, Mumbai locals, and, of course, the sacred battlefield known as the WhatsApp group.
In every home sits at least one Strategic War Consultant who has never served in the army, never handled a weapon larger than a mosquito bat, but possesses a confidence on wartime knowledge that would make Napoleon blush.
The other evening I was sitting in a park when a bearded uncle began explaining the Middle East crisis with the calm authority of a man who had personally designed the planet.
“Once America brings in the atom bomb,” he said, adjusting his glasses dramatically, “Iran will be flattened.”
Flattened? He said it the way one might flatten a chapati.
Nobody asked the obvious follow up question. If Iran is flattened, did he realise that the nuclear fallout could even flatten his own home? But such details do not disturb the Indian war expert. His knowledge operates on a very efficient system called Complete Confidence with Zero Information.
Another uncle joined the conversation. “Israel will finish the whole thing in three days,” he declared.
Three days? It takes my building society longer than that to decide whether my septic tank needs to be cleaned.
Yet entire wars apparently can now be concluded between two weekend cricket matches.
Meanwhile the television was showing cities burning, families fleeing, soldiers digging through rubble and reporters wearing helmets that looked far heavier than the opinions flying around our park.
But our experts were unstoppable. Missiles were launched verbally. Countries were conquered verbally. Borders were redrawn verbally.
Then someone opened his phone and announced breaking news. “America has sunk a battleship.” Immediately the discussion became even more exciting.
“If I were the American President,” one gentleman said grandly, “I would press the button immediately.”
Press the button?
This same gentleman struggles every day to press the correct button in the lift. Half the time he goes to the wrong floor.
Yet nuclear warfare, according to him, requires only one confident finger.
Which makes me wonder, what would happen if a real missile landed near the homes of these fearless war planners. Imagine the explosion outside the window. The ground shaking.
The lights going off. Sirens screaming. The bearded uncle who flattened Iran with his tea spoon would suddenly leap up with remarkable athletic ability. There would be shouting.
There would be running. There might even be a quick change of clothes caused by certain natural reactions to fear.
And after hiding safely under the dining table, our great strategist would whisper his latest military advice. “Let us all pray for peace.” Which, I believe, is the only sensible advice they should export to the world..!