the false benevolence of the law and its corruption

14.05.2026

In the Mardaani 3 film, the villains are Amma which means ‘Mother’ and her son. The female cop pits herself against the identity of The Mother, the poor woman.

Or does she?

There is a curious mirroring between The Mother and the female cop (The Law). Amma criticises the law by saying it serves the rich, not the poor girls. The female cop criticises the law for serving the rich and not the poor girls. Amma uses a certain strategy with her son to infiltrate the law. The female cop copies her strategy to infilitrate Amma’s criminal network.

The female cop also uses the body of Amma as a weapon, as the solution to resolving all of the issues in the case. She exploits the mother son bond and the figure of the poor woman Mother. In the movie, there is also the invocation of the Mother figure of power for the female cop as a puppet show is depicted in which Durga The Mother Queen, the Mother goddess fights against her enemies.

At the same time that the movie is hostile to the poor Mother and depicts her as a criminal that exploits poor girls, the film is trying to reclaim her body and position for the law. It is copying the poor mother as the source of real legitimacy. This is because the film is going against the traditional culture of India which is to celebrate the poor mother as the source of legitimacy and authority. Ask me, I am named after it, the son that weds Mother India in the movie of the name with the poor Mother in it. There is this false face of benevolence to the law because the female cop is supposedly trying to help the poor girl, she is supposedly good.

But the law is not good. It is trying to destroy the power and the legitimacy of the poor Mother. It is trying to destroy the Mother/Son bond of protection and love in the movie. While no one is justifying child trafficking or any of the villainous aspects of the villains in the movie, it is worthwhile noting how they attempt to demonise the poor Mother. Amma is supposed to be attacking and killing poor girls, which is actually what the female cop is doing because she kills and silences Amma in the movie by shooting her in the throat, suppressing and marginalising the voice of the poor Mother. She does the same to the son that loves the poor Mother. Amma is supposed to be exploiting the bodies of poor girls, but who else does this? It is the female cop by exploiting Amma’s body as a weapon.

The law is falsely benevolent and it is corrupt. The fact is that the female cop acts for and with the rich and powerful Father of the rich girl. Against the poor Mother.

the energy of the master of the field

25.04.2026

A beautiful day apparent, and it being my day off, Alfonso and I had arranged a programme of events for the day. I met him at his house first thing in the beautiful sunshine and we walked through the park reflecting on life and everything.

Our first stop was a mission of charity. We were going to see our friend in the hospital through the park. Alfonso had bought a comb at his request and we had picked it up from the chemist’s in the corner. I had begun joking around there and suggested to the cashiers that he was starting up his hair stylist business which had aroused a few smirks and then some conversation from the old lady that was sitting there waiting for her medicines. The visit in the hospital had not gone very smoothly but then our mutual friend was not very well and was having a bad day. We had told him that we would see him next week at the close of about half an hour.

We walked again back through the park and again to Alfonso’s house where he made himself some coffee and tea while I gulped down some water. The first stop was a woman’s brass band that was playing in Holy Sepulchre church in Holborn Viaduct. We then set out for a poster exhibition which was about politics, democracy and resistance in the Eastern bloc at Europe House. Alfonso was older than me and had lived through the events in the late eighties and nineties so he was teaching me about them while I made some comments about the aesthetics, intentions and meanings of the posters.

We decided to walk to St James’s park which was in the vicinity afterwards and ended up in the Institute of Contemporary Arts which had a 1K challenge to promote Puma trainers. We realised that we could pick up some free running T-shirts if we collected a few stamps so we did so.

Having gone through a day of medicine, music, art, politics and sport, we then settled back down into Alfonso’s house after buying much reduced price chocolate in the form of Easter eggs and then watched the film ‘The King’, which was a creepy thriller about Christianity and its interaction with the military minded and violence.

According to Alfonso, the film was about revenge. Alfonso asked me how it contrasted with the film I had watched recently, Dhurandhar: The Revenge, ‘The Master of the Field’.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘the difference can be encapsulated in one cinematic moment. The hero is rescuing his sister who has been gang raped. He kills everyone. We have a scene where he disappears from the camera. Then he rises. His head is brought up to a whirling circular firework behind him. We focus on his face. It is the face of his revenge. Why the firework? In the film, they talk about the energy that is required to have revenge. The hero says that not all have this energy. He is the firework. The revenge is within him. It is a whirling circle of energy. Whereas in The King, the anti-hero is silent and evil, seemingly low in all energy except for sexual energy, low-key and understated, in the Hindi film the hero is full of energy. In fact, the actor Ranveer Singh is known for his energy. In fact, he is Punjabi and we are known for our energy. The whirling firework becomes a halo around his head. It represents the energy of the Sikhs, because he is a Sikh in the film and in real life. He is a hero, a guru. The energy is full of light and power, it is dazzling. It is the splendour of Punjab. The firework is fire. Fire which will burn the world. Fire which is full of the sparks that will ignite this world. That is the difference between ‘The King’ and ‘The Master of the Field’. It is a difference in power. The Punjabi is powerful. The Tiger is powerful. We have endless energy which illuminates and burns this world, this energy of revenge. And remember the last thing. The energy is the law: it is the wheel of the dharma. It is the beauty of law.’

the expression of energy

22.04.2026

A: What did and do your university tutors make of your writing?

S: They said that I was original, ambitious. They said that I went far. They said that my writing was lively.

A: What do they mean by lively?

S: After all, my writing is the expression of energy. Of total power. Of a mind that is free and does not fear. Because this is what the power of the mind is.

A: Where does this energy come from?

S: That is the question, is it not? First of all, I have always had high levels of energy. Then, we were not kept idle as children. We had many things to do. Add to that that I have always done much exercise to build up this body and mind. Do not forget the genes of the athlete and the scholar that my grandfather has bequeathed me. And do not forget the discipline that I have. Discipline is everything.

A: This energy that you have has been described by everyone around you as unnatural.

S: I am a genius. Although I come from nature I am beyond nature.

A: Is this energy that you have being translated? Is this energy being expressed?

S: There are so many pies that I have fingers in. I do the work of three men. Is that not enough?

A: Why not sit and redraft this book that you say proves that you are a genius? You keep on saying that you will do it and you have not touched it.

S: I will not kill myself to do it. They will not give me any reward for it. They are ungrateful, miserly and haters in their hearts. They are unfair and they do not reward or recognise on merit. They do not even deserve my genius. If I write this book, it will only be for us, The Oppressed.

A: The reluctance of genius.

S: All my life, I have worked for society. And what have I got for it for myself? It is a serious question.

A: But now you have everything you wanted. Meaningful work and a girlfriend. You have got something out of it.

S: Where is my honour?

A: Come come. There are many that respect you. You do have honour as well. Write the book. Prove that you are the genius that you say that you are.

S: Summer is almost here. There is only one more month. Then we will see what this energy can do.

A: Forget that you are Achilles sulking and become the greatest of the warriors. You know how important that argument is in the book. You know that you are the king of reading and the king of letters. Show the splendour of Punjab. Show them the roar of The Tiger. Show them the champion of The Oppressed.

at the end of the long day

19.04.2026

S: It is the end of the long day. What is there to say now?

A: One can reflect upon a day, a moment, a life.

S: You ask for me to reflect? In this day, aside from work, I went upon the Cutty Sark. I went to a charity bookshop. I went to a fayre where I bought a biography of Marilyn Munroe for three pounds. I listened to music concerts all day. I went to Canary Wharf to look upon the waterfront and the big skyscrapers. I went into the parks around the Embankment. I had dinner with my girlfriend. I learnt Spanish, French, Hindi, Punjabi and Urdu. I read psychology articles. I learnt Art History. I ate a chocolate profiterole dessert from Marks and Spencer’s. I listened to Hindi music from the films.

A: Are you not tired? You have spent this whole week rushing around.

S: You know that I do not get tired. Especially when the sun is out. But as I was walking the Cutty Sark, which is a boat that is stationary, I thought to myself that this is a metaphor for self-reflection. We are upon the journey of life. But then, we take out a moment from this journey. The ship stops sailing. We explore the frozen journey, to find out where it is taking us, what it is. We become explorers of the pause.

A: Where would you like this journey to take you?

S: To the beating heart of the enemy.

A: That is your wish? You could have love.

S: One loves the enemy. One wants to clutch at the enemy. To hold them the closest. So that one could squeeze what is inside out of them.

A: Forget enmity. You are the lover. You have a lover.

S: To forget the enemy is to forget myself. I am the warrior.

A: Forget. Tell me a story.

S: Once there was this king that rinsed everything outside of himself because of her. And she watched him rinsing everything out of himself as he grew smaller and smaller. He almost became too small and she did nothing to stop him. Because she enjoyed how much she tormented him and wanted to see if there was any limit to what he would do for her. There was not. But one day, when he was at the end, when there was almost nothing left to rinse, this king stopped. She did not love him. She was not the lover. She was only one that he thought that he knew and loved. She had not liked that he was the king and would want him diminished. He cast her off. And there was so much in him that even now there was more than anyone else. And he kept on growing and growing. He was the splendour of the sun.

A: What happened to her?

S: The life of those without love is the everyday story of the people here. Ask any of them how they live their loveless lives of lies, hate and oppression. That is her story too.

the inimitability of the tiger

14.04.2026

Alfonso and I, we had both been to visit a friend again in the hospital. I had rushed there after work while completing several urgent errands on the way. We had spent about an hour with him, cheering him up and asking him how things were over there. Afterwards, Alfonso had taken me to his home and cooked me up beef enchaladas with a salad and sour cream. Then we had watched Sting performing on the television set in the bygone era.

I had been telling Alfonso of the useless attempts of an Ai system to duplicate my written efforts. ‘Did you know,’ I asked him, ‘that Dickens used to call himself the inimitable. And, certainly, according to the experiments today, The Tiger himself is also inimitable.’

‘What makes you think so?’

‘Well, I asked this Ai system to replicate my style. I typed in my name and told it to do it. To create a new story based on the way that I write.’

‘What were the results?’ asked Alfonso with a mockery of gravity.

‘The story was absolutely atrocious. It was about a pigeon watching me while the state created a duplicate identity of me and informed me of it by post.’

‘Ill-written?’

‘Precisely. There was not the least touch of my style or the sound of my mind. Basically, this Ai system had concocted a mixture of Kafka and Poe’s Raven, because that is what it understood my style to be. Not only that, but there had been an attempt at a philosophical conversation. I say an attempt because there was certainly no depth or original thinking involved at all.’

‘And how did this make you feel, watching the Ai perform you so badly? Were you reassured of your idiosyncracy and capriciousness?’

‘It certainly let me know that I was not a mindless and meaningless computer, a hunk of metal and minerals. It certainly let me know that this style that has developed through genius and a lifetime of suffering and practice cannot be so easily acquired.’

‘Do you think a mortal could write like you do?’

‘Of course they could not. Genius, although it is imitated, is always in the last analysis inimitable. I am sure that plenty will try to become The Tiger. However, as in the movie, there is is only one.’

you or me

13.04.2026

S: It comes down to you or me.

A: What does?

S: The fight. Either we can be destroyed. Or them.

A: Why can you not live with difference?

S: We can. But they have decided to eliminate difference. And therefore, it becomes us against them. You or me. And I choose me. I choose difference.

A: You will not accept destruction?

S: Six thousand years of the reign of The Tiger. That is what we are talking about. The loss to the world if we were gone would be immense. Selfishness and greed would choke this world. There would be no love left in the universe. There would be no men left. You would accept the destruction of all that is good in this world? The counter to oppression is freedom. The counter to tyranny and the narrow mind is the limitless.

A: How do you know that they are not right about you? That you are toxic?

S: If a real man is regarded as toxic, then the non-toxic is nothing good.

A: They see you as outdated.

S: They are a petty interruption to the larger history of man. Their opinion is of no consequence.

A: They hold the reins. They have the power.

S: That is not true. Only the warrior holds the power. We shape the world according to our will.

A: How do you know that you are the warrior?

S: This fight, this hard and long fight, I have been fighting it my whole adult life. We will never bend. We will never kneel. If to be us is sin, then we are sinners. If loving The Mother is a test, then we will past the test. We remain undefeated. However much they hate us, we survive. We prosper despite their hate. This territory, it is ours.

A: They say that an enemy knows an enemy.

S: What they should know is that I live for revenge.

A: What is this revenge?

S: In our culture, revenge is what transforms this world. My blood is in this world. They are our future. And for them, and for the ones that come after them, they cannot be subjected to what I was subjected to. I love them too much for that. The revenge is success. We will force our success down their throats. We will hold the reins.

A: How is your revenge going?

S: I am prosperous. My name and my writing is everywhere. I am already a role model. I have achieved what other people only dream of. I have five degrees and a doctorate. I am a doctor. A published author. A published poet. A published photographer. A published artist. I am the pride of Punjab.

A: Yet you are not satisfied with your revenge.

S: The older an enmity, the more dangerous it becomes. This is a line from a Hindi film. Yes, I am still not satisfied. The success has not choked them yet.

the writer does not know what the reader reads

31.03.2026

S: The writer does not know what the reader reads.

A: How so?

S: The fact is, that the reader hardly ever shares what they experience of the text. I am lucky. I am in research and write academic non-fiction. Therefore, I eventually hear what others have made of my work. And it is always positive. Because I work hard and I am extraordinarily intelligent.

A: The usual modesty.

S: Other people have said it. I merely echo their sentiments. You are allowed to be justifiably proud of your accomplishments. Because I am intelligent, I know my place in the world of thought. My best friend goes around telling his family and friends that I am an original thinker. I get good reviews for what I write. If I said it were the case and others didn’t agree with me, then that would be out of place. I’m not going to hide my genius under a bush. It is what other people want to be. I am it.

A: To get back to the topic and not your infernal vanity, why does it fascinate you so much what other people think about what you write.

S: There are those that hate it. They are not worth considering. There will always be haters. What is more interesting is those that read regularly. They are fascinated by what I write. They have been there for years and years reading. But what are they finding in this writing? Things have changed so much. Yet these people are reading and reading and reading. They want to be flooded by these words of mine. What emotions do they feel? What thoughts do they have? What is the identity of the author that they have built up in their minds?

A: You will never know. Because they will never tell you.

S: A villain to some, a hero to many. The author can only say what is in his heart. He stays true to his own heart. This is not a performance. This is life. Whatever reaction it arouses, envy, disdain, fear, contempt, adulation, praise. The author lives in a world that he considers vile, in a sickening climate of hate and conformity that he is too good for, in a world that he is much too good for but denies him his worth. Even though this world tells him to stop writing, that there is nothing for him, he writes. He is a writer. The writer is one that will defy this world and all of its rules, that will defy all for the sake of his voice. I am the real writer. I am what brings freedom into this world, the expression of the self. I am the one that retrieves the lost sense from this world, the lost self from this world. Whatever any reader thinks, I am the hero of this tale. The reader hears the voice of the hero and sees the deeds of the hero.

good grades

08.03.2026

A: How have you kept up motivation for four years of university study while you work seventy or more hours a week? How can you even be on for a Distinction?

S: Tiger is hunger. If Tiger was not hunger, he would not be The Tiger.

A: What is this hunger for learning?

S: The mind of The Tiger is the mind of a genius. The genius does not ask permission to be a genius. He just is. The Tiger does not need to work hard to be a genius, although this Tiger does work hard. Everything comes easily to a genius.

A: But hunger?

S: Stimulation. The ability to do the work and the thinking is sorely wanted. And there is another factor.

A: Which is?

S: In India, they would not let our people learn. They kept us down. By denying us an education. This hunger is for the people.

A: So you will take three different undergraduate degrees as well as your masters and your doctorate.

S: Do you know why I studied Art History at university level? Because Rishi Sunak told us not to do any degrees that he considered useless. I am culture. I am India. I am the eye of Punjab. I am the scholar in the war, the warrior. They cannot manacle this mind. I am freedom. So in protest at this government and its dismantling of the humanities, I did that degree out of anger and spite. I am the Revolutionary and I believe in the Revolution. We will change vision.

A: Your beliefs are ridiculous. No one agrees with anything that you say.

S: I do not need the ignorant and the idiotic to agree with anything that I say. This hunger for learning, no one can quell it. I have seen tomorrow because I am the past, the present and the future. I am The Tiger. It is the wisest that truly rule in this world. I am the leader of thought. I know my importance in the world of thought. I know my place. There is only one place for the genius: at the top. That is the hunger for the good grades which I am getting. The competition of thought. And I will see Punjab as the winner. The French have had their turn. The Germans have had their turn. Now it is Punjab’s turn. The dominant have had their turn on the podium. Now it is the turn for The Oppressed, the Dalits. Jai Maa Kaali! Inquilaab zindabaad! (Hail the Dark Mother! Long Live The Revolution!)

misunderstanding

19.02.2026

S: The poet is raised on poetry. And this world is raised on prose. All there will be is misunderstanding.

A: You say that? But you write. You write incessantly. If you did not believe that there would be one that understood, why would you write?

S: Can you not write knowing full well that you will be misunderstood?

A: It seems pointless.

S: What is of point in this life? The average person in this culture is working to make even more money for the rich. What could be more pointless than that?

A: You believe that you have a destiny though.

S: My destiny is to have been born amongst those that cannot and will not understand.

A: Make them understand.

S: You cannot give intelligence to stupidity and ignorance. You cannot talk to those that will not listen. Arrogance makes them impenetrable.

A: Why then write?

S: The truth is the truth. My truth. I am the truth. I am my truth. The truth will out.

A: Why become Sisyphus?

S: All there is is Sisyphus. There is no one else. And, do you know what? This has been the problem of the writer in every age. The true writer, the writer that is true. They are centuries ahead of their time. Because common sense is common stupidity. The herd think in ignorance. They are cheap thoughts. Not worthy of men. They cannot catch up with the real men, the real writer. If the real writer is saved from the ravages of time, then men look at them and think that this was a real man in the midst of the herd. They say that these men were ahead of their time.

A: You are so egotistical it is unbelievable. You worship yourself.

S: I know my place in the world of thought. I am a genius. I am what has come through six thousand years and more of Indian civilisation.

A: Even Indian people do not agree with you.

S: There are few that can agree with a genius. They are not on the same level.

A: Remain the poet. And remain incomprehensible.

I baked this strange letter in the oven

the fragrance was indescribable

the taste was beyond words

each that held the letter

they were confounded by the cook

each bite that they took

made the letter more and more illegible

they ate reluctantly

it was all gone

the letter was dead

and they turned instead

to a more familiar dessert

the moon and the star of the lovers

18.02.2026

S: In the love songs of the Hindi films, the male lover is always telling the woman lover that he will bring her the moon and the stars.

A: A lover’s conceit?

S: Of course, literally speaking, he can never bring her the moon and the stars.

A: True. And what about her? Does she ever offer to bring the male lover the moon and the stars?

S: I’ve never heard it.

A: Why talk of the moon and the stars? We are on earth?

S: What would you like him to say? This is poetry. And it has its own meaning.

A: Which is?

S: That the lover will bring his beloved heaven.

A: Absolute falsity.

S: You lack the spirit of romance. It is entirely true. He will bring her the moon and the stars.

A: In what sense.

S: He will bring her heaven upon earth. That is what love is.

A: You have too much of the spirit of romance.

S: Romance jostles with pessimism and cynicism. Love can be entirely hell and the complete opposite of heaven.

A: So why do you support the poetry in these Hindi film songs?

S: Without love, what else is there? Life is insipid and bland without love. It is love that gives life its character.

A: Says you. There are plenty around that won’t love and will never be willing to love.

S: Bland food sells in copious quantities in the supermarkets. Those with the bland tastes of the bland cannot stomach the taste or the food of life which is love.

A: It always veers off into criticism.

S: You criticise love. I criticise the lack of love and what masquerades as love when it is hate. I am Indian. I am the philosopher of love. I am the lover. I am one that lives through the storm and the fire.

A: What song would you sing? What words?

S: Forever I have sought the spark inside the ice/

Forever I have sought the freedom in the vice/

When you look at me with this desire/

Inside consumes the unquenchable fire