Rescuing reality

One of the silliest catchphrases that I have often heard is mugged by reality.
Granted reality is many times a lurker, that it has within itself “unknown unknowns” and it is bound to spring surprises on the unsuspecting.

However when someone trots this excuse for ignoring terrorism for so long, one can not but feel pity for him. Because , in this case the reality was not hiding in some dark alley waiting to pounce upon the idealistic. Truth is, reality was there in open, in all its hideous glory, in Afghanistan, in Saudi Arabia, in Pakistan, existing as a festering sore in the Ummah. No, problem was not with the reality. Problem was with idealist, he forgot that there is but a thin line between ideals and delusion. For sake of utopia, the reality was given a short shrift, the violence was sought to be explained away in terms of moral equivalence or to be buried under the rhetoric’s of circles of revenge.

A dream was woven from the daintiest of fabric and the idealist covered himself with it.
Psychedelic was embraced; the vital (though inconvenient) was shunned.
Therefore what happened on a chilly morning was not a crime of reality; reality was just working through cause and effect towards what was inevitable. What happened on that day was shattering of the illusion, ripping away of the fabric, a reminder of the reality.
It was not reality who landed; it was the idealist who did.

Let me also say Indians will never land. Because we don’t have any ideals. Indians are, for a long time, condemned to be fettered in chain of self abnegation, we made slaves of ourselves in past and we continue to do so.No one can wake up one who has willfully chosen extinction. India resembles a dodo who has grown up the size of elephant