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Of Mahayana, Constipation, and Tupolev: Goodbye 2018 - Arindam Mukherjee

My last update was a little gloom and doom. So, this is to make up for that and leave you on a happy note this year-end.

You all know that uncle has been kidnapping people since a long time. He even has an offshore safe-house to keep kidnapees. But while these guys were mostly small fries – goat-loving ragheads from Middle East or Af-Pak, regular family men who forgot to shave their beard, and so on – this time round, Uncle has picked up someone who, Uncle hopes, can help re-negotiate tariffs and stuff in the ongoing trade war. That too with China; no shitting!

This Chinaspeak reminds me of something interesting. The carriers of Khidderpore are famous all-over Southeast Asia. The guys are small time non-licensed traders – they buy there and sell back home in India, and the entire stretch from Myanmar to Hongkong, both love them and remain wary of them. They are great for business but apparently, god-level shoplifters. I know a few of them; tough mothers, let me tell you – which in Khidderpore means if someone is slashed open he holds his tummy together, runs to the nearest hospital (which is across the main road) and asks the doctor on emergency duty to stitch it up (No kidding! Ask Razia: she grew up there). And, guess who these Khidderpore chaps are scared of? The Chinese! “Skirt faad faad ke maregi” – is the street lingo among Khidderporeans – when they have to warn each other about stealing from random Chinese women.  

China is going to react to this kidnapping. And it would be interesting to watch how that goes.

Then, Uncle has decided to pull-out of Syria. Since this is yearend and since you all like these random analogies and shitty anecdotes of mine, lets indulge in some more of them. This push-pull game was immortalized about 35 years ago by some wily bastard in suburban Howrah – in a college called BE College Shibpur; when he had created a mishmash of a poetry based on his own understanding of the two epics Ramayana and Mahabharata. He had named that gem – Mahayana – to borrow from both. It was an epic: epic trash – downright profane and rotten to the core, and immensely enjoyable if you are an average Bong who loves cuss-words and sexual innuendoes. In there he had a two liner that kind of summed up Rishi Vyasdeva’s dilemma amidst the chaos where Ramayana had gotten into Mahabharata and vice versa and where everyone – man, beast, demon – was hell bent on an orgy that involved sex, war and yoga… and even stitching wallets out of scrotal sacs, as the twins of Rama – Luv and Kush kept pulling and pushing through his arse in tandem. Sounds confusing, isn’t it? Middle East has kinda become like that. Used to be a lot decent during the 20th century when Ramayana and Mahabharata were separate in there. Then this young nameless engineering student jammed these two together, the world became Unipolar, and now you have reached a spot where Hanuman hides behind a bush before pouncing on a lost-in-his-own-world-and-masturbating-Dushashana to sodomize him. And you have Uncle, after pushing valiantly in for so many years suddenly deciding to pull out with Sultan waiting to push in.

Now while in Mahayana, there is peace and brotherhood between Luv and Kush, in the Mahayana that’s been played out in Middle East, it is exactly the opposite. Uncle is scared that if he keeps it inside, the Turk might chop it off in his eagerness to push his in. Uncle-presence in northeast Syria is stick thin. Just a few thousand boots, spread over miles and miles and miles; an okay kind of an arrangement on a normal day. But this isn’t a normal day. This is Iran-Turkey-Russia-with-a-re-strengthened-Assad-Army-on-a-rampage day. So when Sultan threatens to launch an operation at any moment, Scrooge McDuck has to quickly place a telephone call to pacify him. But that isn’t easy. Fateullah Gulen is still at large, and the uncle-promise of delivering him to the Sultan isn’t working as expected. That was one. Across the other end, uncle misbehaving with MBS has led to KSA – the only one spinner left – putting a screw on the money to sponsor uncle-adventure in Syria. That is number two. So uncle has no money in there currently – a good reason to cut losses and move out.

A section of analysts guess that the importance of a nominal control over Syraq is nothing compared to bringing Turkey back into NATO folds, now that the Sea of Azov is simmering. With Russia/Iran/Assad hunting down ISIL mercilessly, Syraq is almost a goner now. Ukraine is in a better shape comparatively; Turkey is needed in the Caucasus.  And then… there is the other side to consider as well – which is, Uncle has perfected the art of outsourcing conflict. He is an absolute pro in needling this or that radical, especially the Islamic varieties. So (following Schrodinger) uncle pulling out might also mean uncle pushing in. Uniforms might fade into masked men; Ramayana might become Mahabharata. Based on that, a probable theory that Uncle – with or without Scrooge – could well prepare for a fresh round of destabilization, makes some sense. Could be Turkey this time. Friedman had warned uncle-establishments many years ago about Turkey’s rise as a regional power. And you know how seriously uncle takes the likes of Friedman or Kissinger. Gulen, and the Kurds, and of course MBS – currently in need of reassurance – can also be included in the playing XI if required.

I would have loved to go on with Mahayana and its nameless prophet from Bengal Engineering College some more, but there are other stuffs too, that need a mention. Like the average Bong’s obsession with bowel movement. The average Bong was alarmed to learn that uncle shat a couple of mid-sized bricks the other morning when those two Tupolevs flew to Venezuela. Uncle obviously remained too busy to register that the scrapping of INF worked both ways. You have to admit that Uncle has gotten so big over the years that his reflexes have slowed down. So a helpful Russia obliged with those planes to get uncle to realize that it could be the onset of constipation. It was quite a painful experience I am told. The fact that uncle couldn’t shit kept haunting me through this last week. Venezuela is scarily close to put a permanent lid on that morning ritual. Saker has his as usual brilliant analysis; and I am putting a part of it here from Vineyard of the Saker, to help you all dig Tupolev Bombers: “the Tu-160 is, indeed, a supersonic heavy strategic bomber, meaning that they have the speed and range to strike targets at long distance (how far depends on the load, the availability of in-flight refueling and flight profile; usually a max range of 12000km is quoted). While the Tu-160 can carry regular (“dumb”) bombs, it’s primary weapons are cruise missiles, specifically six Raduga Kh-55SM/101/102/555 missiles or twelve AS-16 Kickback missiles. The former has a range of about 4,500–5,000–5,500 km (2,800–3,100–3,400 mi; some sources even claim as much as 10,000 km (6,200 mi) range with a flight endurance of 10 hours. The AS-16 is a short-range weapon with a range of 300 km (160 nmi) which can fly at 40,000 m (130,000 ft) and then dive at a speed of Mach 5. Both of these missiles have a low radar cross-section, advanced guidance (including terminal), onboard electronic warfare kit and maneuvering capabilities. Finally, these missiles exist in various variants including conventional, nuclear and anti-ship. The first conclusion, these figures suggest, is that Russia does not need to send her bombers anywhere near the USA to deliver a powerful conventional or nuclear strike: with a range anywhere between 4500km and 10000km the main missile armament of the Tu-160 does not require this bomber to be anywhere near the target at the moment of launch of the missile.  Instead of attacking from Venezuela, the Tu-160 can fire its missiles from over the polar cap and still strike the continental USA.” 

Saker also argues that this kind of a visit is more psychological than anything, and being a Bong, I sort of have to agree with that. Then again, I am sure even non-Bongs realize what could happen if you stopped shitting. So would uncle gear up his rhetoric in 2019 to ensure a forcible bowel cleansing? That might lead to unwanted complications. What is two bombers today might be 50 bombers a few submarines, and if China steps up the game – a quickened dollar-strangulation tomorrow. “Skirt faad faad ke marti hai”, remember?

Time is running out. Uncle desperately needs some serious-ass planning moved far away from war-cries and shit, that calls for dynamic engagement with these two. But for that, uncle-planners have to go back to school/college; and global history and politics is not exactly feminism and gender studies.

I wish you a merry christmas and a happy new year.  

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