PETROL

It's highly inflammable!

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How much blood I should sacrifice for retaining my name? How many drops of blood would Indian Union require from my body to retain my name? My name, my identity, which includes all my certificates right from birth certificate till the discharge summary I got from Kilpauk Medical College, Chennai. I don’t mind sacrificing my blood till the last drop. But am I fighting for my name and identity or is it a fight for my life? Do you know that lack of petrol in your bike can make you spill a lot of blood from your body?

On 16 August 2020 I published 2nd round of introduction for flamesofdissent.com and I did say that it will be a e-magazine (weekly), but could publish it only for three weeks. The article prepared for the forth week was stole and deleted from pen drive, while I was away from home. This means someone has access to my room using duplicate keys. I don’t run this website for profit, but it was way of making me understand that I am not permitted to do anything. I have written various illegal trade run by Mafias and they could not stop me. But politicians wanting contents before I publish made me stop this. Different section of society are motivated with different stories and end up being part of the game without knowing the ground rules. Read ahead to know more.

Chapter-1

I was in Kilpauk Medical College (KMC) Casuality . I had a hole dug in-between my ribcage under my right arm at my chest to insert a plastic tube, which was connected to a plastic bag . This was to collected blood that flows from my lacerated liver. And I dealt with this bag for more than a week, till internal bleeding stopped. Then there was a urine bag connected to my body. I had six stitches concealing the stab injury. The doctors did inject a strong dose of Anaesthesia, if I am not wrong. Despite all those sedetive injections, I was awake and was able to see what doctors were doing. It was the result of a commitment I made to myself, few hours ago. This made those doctors think that I am either alcoholic or drug addict. But they were proven wrong when they did my blood test. They sticked a pink adsive cloth covering my chest and the wound. There was more than an hour long wait, in the casuality to begin the procedure after me reaching there. First they took my details like name, age etc. Then they tried calling my relatives. To do that, my phone was off due to low battery and i asked them to charge my phone for a while to get contacts from phone. Then those few answered the call said that they just know or happened to work with me the past and we’re not interested in being part of it. Then there was a charge of 1600/- rupees for scanning and I did not have that money. Finally those doctors who were more than kind got permission from someone to waive the charge for scanning. I should really thank them for their care. After scanning they attached a tube for blood to flow, another for urine, stitched the wound and sent me for X-ray in a stretcher. On the way to X-ray room, I informed the guys who were taking me on stretcher that I need to pup and to take to the washroom. They did so. After the pup, I lost my vision for few seconds and felt that I am going faint. I once again remembered my commitment, and shouted loud ; bother….. And those two guys came running and held me. I could see a sudden change in their behaviour there after. People often excrete, just before their death and may be they thought that I am about to die. And they probably wanted me to have an unhappy ending. Or there was some sort pimping done by someone. They took me to X-ray and then back to casuality. They gave me electrolyte drip and asked me to take rest after another round of drill for attender, whom I could not arrange. The change in their behaviour was pulpable, but was bearable. I also noticed pittance and sympathy in some of their faces.

The pain was unbearable, despite those heavy dose of sedative injection. Winter in Chennai is not harsh. But my body could not resist the cold with no food in my belly, so much of bloods loss and I had no shirt to wear. I asked a ursee to turn-off the ceiling fan and they did. After a while I closed my eyes and slipped into a semi consciousness state. The first thought came into my mind was that all my plans will get delayed by at least by another six months. I had excatly one month to attend the court for a case in Kerala. I thought that my body will recuperate easily in a month’s time, being unaware of what really has happened to me. Then came the kind of troubles I have gone through in the last one year. 2020 been a bad year for the world, with covid19, lockdown, business of loss and unemployment. And I remembered that I had employment for only 42 in the last one year. And the reason was not covid-19 or lockdown. I was unemployment due to lockdown only for a month or two. All this made me think; what if I die?

Oh yes, many will rejoice, celebrate and party. My death could mean relief for many who expected more than they should. In the last one year, there were several occasions in my life, which could have been moment to rejoice, party and celebrate. But those were used to create a new enemy for me and all of them will celebrate my death.

My mother will of course weep for few months or till she dies. Few others could have expressed their pittance, looking at my dead body. There could be someone wanting to extract organs from my body and there could be a fight for sharing the money they get out of selling it. Then there are few who would say that I will remain in their loving memory. Then came the thought, what could have happened, if I were not able to walk for more than hour to reach police? And what could have happened to me, if police did not bother to help me?

My eyes were closed and a nurse was approaching me to give an injection. I opened my eyes and saw her when she was some five feets away. May be the result the same commitment i made few hours ago. She injected some injection straight into my vain and I slipped into sleep.

Chapter -2

I fainted on the road. Several hours later, some passerby noticed me lying on the roadside, soaked in blood. Few people gathered there in some time. They called police after a round of discussion. Few of them among those gathered there are those who attacked me and took my phone and all my identity cards. They informed the one who gave the contract to them and were sure that I dead. The police who were aware of this, even before the call from public came within fifteen minutes. A police constable who checked my breath and pulse confirmed to Sub-inspector that I am dead. The Sub-inspector of police asked constable to check my pockets. The constable checked all my pockets and said; nothing. Then the police asked those gathered there to see and identify me if they could. There were few who were familiar to me, but none of them uttered a word. They called an ambulance to take my body for Autopsy. The ambulance came in some twenty minutes. The road was empty as it was around six in the morning and the roadwas full of fog, which is very unusual in Chennai. The roads were free from traffic. So the ambulance carrying my body reached KMC and stopped in front of casulity. They took my body to casuality in a stretcher. The doctor came to check and certify my death, after which the body can be sent for autopsy. A male doctor in faded light navy blue V shaped shirt and pant checked my pulse and shouted load; take him to Operation Theater. Few months ago, I wrote about organ trade in India and I thought that they are going to remove all the usable organs from my body, before sending me to mortury.

In operation theater there were four doctors, a male doctor with somewhat dark skin and wearing the v necked faded sky blue half selve shirt and same color pant. The one who instructed to take my body to the operation theater. Then there was another male doctor with fair skin and had sandal applied on his forehead and was in casual shirt and pant. There was a lady doctor who was tall and was in casual dress and she had small purse hanging from her neck all the way till her waiste. Then there was another lean and short girl in dark black pant and V necked half sleved shirt. Her appearance was that of someone going for jogging in the morning or I would say the uniform used by those who go for karate class. But her lean and short body stopped me from accepting her as doctor or as a nurse. Those male doctors seamed to be the seniors and we’re giving some instructions to the others. Then I saw the lady doctor in casual wear turning on the defibrillator and placed one on my rigth chest and another one under my left arm gently. The short-lean girl was standing on my right side assisting the lady doctor in casual wear. There was no movement in my body. She once again placed defibrillator on my chest and the result was same again. The lady doctor on left side and the short-lean girl on my right side turned to their seniors who were watching their action. Do it once again, the seniors gave instruction. She did it and I saw my chest going up in the air and I was sitting straight in the bed with the lady doctor hanging in the air with her neck in my left arm fist and the short-lean girl in black dress hanging in the air with her neck in my right arm fist. Then I said; bring me back to life, l will become a ghost and will haunt you till your death, if I die. My voice was that of a possessed charater in horror movies. Suddenly I opened my eyes and saw me in casuality, in my bed and a nurse was walking towards me with a small bottle of medicine and syringe. And she was some five feets away from me, when I opened my eyes.

Chapter -3

On 16th November 2020 I started from Chennai to Ernakulam on bike. It was to spend a day in temple in Ernakulam. I been planning this trip since 13th of November 2020 and cancelled after seeing rain in the morning for three continues days and everyday it used to rain till noon. I don’t mind riding while it’s raining and in fact I love that to some extent. But I neither had proper riding gear like windcheater or rain coat and even the bike was not in great condition. On the day I left, there was drizzle in the morning till 6:00Am and I left at 6:15Am. By around seven it started to rain and continued throughout the day till eight in the night. I stopped several times due to rain. All my belongings in my bag was wet and dripping. I only had two meals and generous amount of tea on the way. Around nine thirty, I stopped at palakkad for food and I was shivering. My skin had wrinkles and I felt like I was in a pool for several hours. My cloths were dirty due to rain. So the seven hundred and fifty kilometers ride, which I could have covered should have covered in eight hours took fourteen hours. And finally reached Ernakulam at 2:00Am in the night. I sat in tea stall till six in the morning and then hired room and slept till evening four. That way I endedup having just one meal in the night. Next day I was in temple from morning till evening and the day ended with just a meal.

I am facing death threat from more than a year. And there were several incidents happened in the last one year, which people won’t believe. My observatory skills and the ability to avert it kept me alive all these days. There were incidents like six to eight men armed with leathel weapons like swords, trying to block my way, while driving in the woods. Such shows are arranged by someone great by offering cash rewards to criminals. Those who are sent to attack me are being told that I know martial arts. So they come in a group of eight to ten. Other than that they create rumours like, I am against Indian Culture(caste), or by creating a linguistic ego, or by saying that I glorify English and western culture.This are the tactics adopted to arrange a mob lynching. There is a ban on my writing to the extent that, people should not read from my website. Those who read English and wants to read can read from a different forum where contents from my site is copy-pasted selectly. And the majority are being told that I write anti-national ideas. Now the site is available in all the languages to counter this. Each movement of me is watched closely icluding what I eat from resturant, what I speak to neibhours and on phone, my internet activities, what I cook, what I buy, the brand’s I choose, the medicines I purchase and what not. And this attention I get is of course not that of a celebrity. Instead it is way of targeting me, treating me like a fugitive or it is plan to make me live in hostility. A notebook,a bag or even few papers in my bike, or any vechile I use is valuable. This means there are always people wanting to steal them, as if I am into espionage. If I throw few sheets of paper into garbage and if it’s not shreded, then there will be someone wanting to read them. This means often what I write gets stolen. And someone will publish my article which is half, conveying the message which is right opposite of what is intended. Even if the story is complete, they will alter it to create hatered. For example this story was stolen and published by someone in a valgur way, even before I could complete. https://www.flamesofdissent.com/post/it-s-not-like-what-you-expected-it-s-life-it-s-life-it-s-not-like-what-you-expected

You would have this question as who is doing all this? And the answer is, all those who are affected by my writing, all those who hate my writing and those who rejoice, party and celebrate my death. And they include politicians, NIA police, business community, those engaged in illegal and illicit trade and those who exploit the poorest among the poor.

For example, this storyhttps://www.flamesofdissent.com/post/it-s-not-like-what-you-expected-it-s-life-it-s-life-it-s-not-like-what-you-expected

had information about about money lenders exploiting the youth. Later I even sent a open letter to honourable home minister of India Amit Shah, regarding the same. Click on the link below to read the letter.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-vidrcNhsxvJg3gW3A5nOO5rYj0s0AdJ/view?usp=drivesdk

Had there been some action from the political class or if there were handful of readers reading contents from my website, then we could have avoided this news you see in the picture below

And this are the kind of ads the use get customers.

Chapter -4

Next morning i started from Ernakulam. On the way, all I had was breakafast aroung ten in the morning and few cups tea and snacks. And I reached Chennai around 2:00Am in night. I was just six kilometres to reach home and I ran out of fuel. I mean petrol. I was on the elevated Highway which connects Tambaram to Poonamallee. I took the bike to service road and was pushing it. I was on the left side of the service road and it was some two kilometres to reach Poonamallee slip road from elevated Highway or the ring road. I suddenly saw a black Honda Dio with three guys coming from behind and stopping on the other side of the road, on my right. All three of them got down from it at a time and the one in the middle took out a two feet double edged sword from his back, while getting down. The sword was of steel and was shining with a V shaped tip. If I am not wrong, all of them were wearing white half sleved shirt and dark trousers. The shirt was not kadhi which politicians wear. It is needless to say that they came to attack me and it is preplanned. I had no proper food in the last four days and had travelled 750 kilometres on bike at snalepace. I could hardly walk and running away to escape was not an option. And the day was chosen by someone. I decided to push them away and climb the ten feet tall wall of elevated highway, where there is presence of vechile and public. And this was planned in fraction of second. So i pushed the bike aside and advanced towards those coming to attack me. They were somewhat professional.

The service road was litup as there were street lights in every two hundred meters on the elevated Highway. It is an isolated place. All three of them got down from the scooter at once. The one in the middle took the sword while getting down from the scooter. They started walking staright to me without uttering a word. The guy with sword had one guy in his left and one on his right. Once they were close to me, I saw the sword swinging from his hand and I blocked it. And that got me a scare on my left hand. Then he hit hard on my head and his sword slipped on my helmet. Again he hit me on my head with his sword and the helmet broke into pieces. I had no energy to fight back and I didn’t know, if other two had leathel weapons. The guy with sword also was frightened, which I could notice. So I pushed them aside to climb the wall of elevated Highway. In the scuffle, I got a stab in right lower chest. I climbed the elevated Highway. By the two men shouted from a scrapeyard, which was hundred meters away. All three of them fled away in their scooter. I waived my hand and shouted for help upon seeing vechiles that passed in the highway. It was of no use. I jumped down from the elevated Highway onto the service road and saw my shirt getting wet due to bleeding? I pressed the wound with my left hand and walked upto the people in the scrapeyard. My phone was off due to low battery. I asked the men at scrapeyard, if I could use their phone for calling police or ambulance. They said that they do not have phone. I asked them, if they can give me some petrol from their vechile. They said that they do not have any vechile or petrol. My next question was; can I go hide inside your compund. They agreed, but I felt it is not a wise idea. I lost my vision for few seconds and felt that I am going to faint. ‘I will not faint or become unconscious till I reach some place where I am safe', I said to my self. It was a commitment to myself to save me and it worked wonders. I knew the two men at scrapeyard won’t be of any help, if they come back again. Then I saw someone coming alone in a bike and i shouted for help. He stopped the bike and I explained what has happened. He asked me to sit behind him. All I wanted was to escape from that spot and reach to police or ambulance. He took me on bike for two hundred meters and asked me to get down. I did. Then he asked me to walk into a small lane which did not have street lights. There were few thatched huts here and there in that lane.

Can you give some petrol, so that I can escape from this place and reach to police or hospital, I asked.

He kept forcing me to walk into the dark pocket road. I felt something fishy. I walked past him in the service road. Then I saw the bike go into that pocket road and he took a right turn to reach the service road, some two hundred meters ahead of me. There was a Toyota Qualis parked in the service road and I saw it’s headlights turning on. The biker went and said something to the guy in the car and disappeared into some pocket road. Then I saw the car moving towards me. I walked towards extreme right side of the service road thinking that I can jump the small tunnel to save myselt, if the car comes to ram me. The car slowed down upon nearing me. But I did not bother to ask lift. The car went past me and I felt that those who attacked me, the biker and the guy in car are all from the same team. I saw two cars parked in the service road, some two hundred meters away. I went and checked, if they are locked and they were. My idea was to escape with car, if the keys were in it. Then I walked back few meters to reach a tunnel underneath the six lane elevated highway to reach the service road on the other side. On the other side of the road, I saw few bikes, truck and cars coming. But no one stopped, despite me standing in middle of the road and waiving my hands. I could see houses here and there, but all of them were at least half kilometer away from the Highway. Walking all the way till there and knocking someone’s door at 2:00Am was not a great idea. Then I thought of hiding in bushes till morning. But continued bleeding can make me faint and can lead to death. Again I climbed the elevated Highway from a place where there was slope and it was not very steep. I removed my shirt and folded it. Then I pressed and held my shirt tightly on the wound, using my left hand and started walking towards Poonamallee slip road. While walking, I waived my right hand, upon seeing passing vehicles. After getting down from elevated highway at Poonamallee slip road, I saw two police vehicles parked underneath the elevated highway, on the road which connects comes from Kanchipuram to Chennai. I crossed the road and walked upto the first police jeep. It was traffic police and asked them to help me. Get lost, was their answer.

Chapter -5

There was a Tata Sumo of law and order police night patrolling, just few feets behind the traffic police jeep. I walked upto them and explained what happened. I requested them to take me to hospital or to call ambulance. They asked me few questions and wanted to see the wound. By then the shirt was completely soaked in blood and the blood was dripping from my fingers. My pant was wet till knee due to bleeding. I took my hand from the wound and the blood was splashing like how an air compressor will pump water. The officer asked to cover the wound with cloth and asked me to go sit on a stone next to their vehicle. They called an ambulance. An officer came to me and said that the ambulance is on it’s way. Then they called another night petrolling Gypsy. In few minutes a Green coloured Gypsy arrived and that officer also came to me to enquire about the incident. Then he wanted to see the wound. Blood started to splash from my lower chest, even before me removing the cloth completely. And the officer asked me to hold it tight. His appearance was that of a typical Tamil movie villain. But he was more than kind, caring and helpful. They got to know that the ambulance is still far away. So the officer who came in Gypsy, offered to take me to hospital in his Gypsy. May be he did that because he thought that I I’ll die, if delayed. They took me to primary heath care in Poonamallee. There was an attender and a doctor, if I am not wrong. The officer wanted to inform my relatives. I gave my phone to him and asked him to charge the phone to get my contacts. I dumped my shirt soaked in blood into the garbage bin and the medical staff did first aid to stop bleeding. By then the officer charged my phone a bit. I called my mother and inform her about the incident. Then the officer wanted someone from Chennai who could come to hospital. He called several numbers and most of them did not answer as it was the wee hours and those answered said that they just know me or happened to work with me in the past and do not want to be part of it.

Finally, I said; Sir you will get call from someone in your department.

I knew that all my calls are being tapped. And the officer used my phone to call the contacts. The officer was pretty much convinced with my statement. By then ambulance arrived. They took me in ambulance to KMC and the police officer escorted the ambulance. And if I am not wrong, the officer did get a call from his superior in the department. Again, if I am not wrong the question asked was just; is he in danger? Or is it life threatening? And may be those called wanted to confirm my death to be releaved. Or they were really concerned about me being in danger. And obvious answer could have been that I am about to die. In any case, if there was such a call, then it went in my favour. As a result, I got the best initial care and attention in KMC. But it did not last for more than a while due to someone’s score settling game. The attender, the ambulance driver, the police officer who came with me till KMC as well those officers who were in TATA SUMO, deserves an accolade. They really are a boon to our society.

Like I mentioned earlier, there was a wait time before they could start my treatment. Observing everything you see around is a skill, one would see in all those who write. I have developed this skill over the years and I observe even the most subtle and minute things i see. This skill enables me to figure out ones behaviour, food habits, which part of India they are from etc. This skill of me was working perfectly, despite my poor vision. My vision was poor due to lack of sleep, hunger, fatigue, tiredness, loss of blood and pain. A lady doctor in casual wear was one among those few, whom I saw in causality first. For me, she appeared like a small girl and I even thought that she could be a junior doctor, who just completed her MBBS. And she is the one who did all the procedure. I was awake and even suggested her to use betadine and not tincher. I held her hand tight in my fist few times, when pain was unbearable. Next morning, I was surprised to see her as grown up women who was tall and fat, making me realise how bad my vision was on the previous day. My liver was lacerated and it was 4 centimetre deep or wide. But I wasn’t sick enough to be on ventilator and also did not like the oxygen mask, which I removed and kept aside. For me it was a visual treat being in the causality of KMC. I was admitted in hospital for the first time in my life. I did spend some two months in hospital, while my dad was hospitalised. But there the doctors and nurses there had uniform of one specific colour. Here in KMC, the doctors and nurses were in sky blue, navy blue, brown, black, pink, green, maroon, grey and white coloured V necked, half sleeved shirt and pant of the same colour. And some of them were in casual wear. I could see a good number of doctors and nurses from Kerala. In fact one would see at least one doctor or nurse from Kerala in any hospital and it is same all over the world. But I did not have any linguistic love, because they love and hate me as much as others do.

By evening I was shifted to ICU. And I experienced what torture could really mean, while being sick. I could not get on bed without someone’s help with urine bag in my left hand and a blood bag in my right hand. And those medical staffs in ICU were more than rude. I do not want to describe everything in detail, but they harassed me a lot on the first day in ICU. A news reporter came and recorded video of all that I said. Later I got to know that the incident was reported in some newspaper. I do not know how it was reported. Someone could have shouted at him, if the news was reported as I said. The police came and took statement from me three different times. I was tired and used to get pain while speaking. For the third time, they came with the statement written in Tamil and explained to me. I choose not to dispute the statement knowing that there is no point in doing so, if there is pressure from someone powerful to hush the matter or to protect the culprit. And I dint want to create displeasure in those police officers, who saved my life, by taking me to hospital. Even those police officers felt sorry for my pathetic condition and the ill-treatment meted out to me by hospital staff in ICU. The thick cotton paint I was wearing had a coting of my blood, which made it hard like tarpaulin. It used cause a lot of pain in the wrong place, with a urine pipe being connected to it. I requested police Inspector to get me a lungi. He got me a lungi in few minutes, by paying from his pocket. Then the challenge was to wear the lungi. There was none ready to help me take out my pant and i could not do on my own. When I stand, I needed someone to hold the blood and urine bag. It is a practice to cut the cloth using scissors in hospitals, if the patient can’t move. But it was not an option in KMC. At last a sweeper helped me by holding the blood and urine bag. But she was rude like others . Following day I was surprised to see my mother. She said that she is coming, but I thought it will only be after one more day. I did not even get electrolytes on third day in ICU. Then all of a sudden they shifted me to a bed, where the mattress was hard like stone. I was not supposed move and it caused lot of back pain. There were two patient in the adjacent beds which were close to mine. One on my left and another on my right. Their symptoms were of covid19. The doctors kept repeating to wear mask. I was least bothered about mask and covid19, because I believe that I have antibodies. But lying on that bed made me get back pain, which was unbearable. “Wear mask” was there their reply, each time when I ask for a pain killer. My apatite was killing me and I was not allowed to take food. And the electrolytes drip was denied to me. Then there was one lady doctor who irritated me like hell and exhibited her great arrogance. My protest made them call my mother all of a sudden and shifted me to a ward at eleven in the night. I know this is not the way they behave with all patients. And they did not have any grudge on me. It was someone’s score settling game. Or someone has paid them to run this show, while I am sick. While shifting to the ward, the blood bag connected to my chest could have come out tearing my skin and flush. The skills I exhibited lying on the stretcher saved me from going through that additional pain. I was very happy in ward away from Doctor Miss.Arrogance. But my apatite was killing me. I called the nurse there and said that I am hungry. I asked her to give me some food, if she has brought some from home. She was very kind and asked; Would you eat idly? O yes, please bring it, I said with excitement.

After few minutes, she came back with a banana. And I was delighted. Then, there was another nurse in the ward, who also was very kind, caring and innocent. There was another lady doctor in green cloths, who woke me up on several morning with an injection. And she walks in the corridor like someone wading through water. Then there were several others who were kind and nice to me. There were several funny incidents and I choose not to write them, as someone can make it sound vulgar. But, there was a canopy or a rider attached to this medical treatment. One morning they said that I am being referred to psychiatry to deal with trauma. I who fought with those came to kill me and escaped from there had no truma. I who walked more than two kilometres with that stab injury to reach police did not have any trauma. I who destroyed a sim card sitting in police Gypsy, while on the way to primary heath care, did not have any trauma. And the sim was destroyed to avoid someone getting access to some important files sent to court. I who gave my name and address in KMC while getting admitted was not under trauma. I who went through several torture during treatment did not have trauma. However, I didn’t refuse to meet psychologist. I had a general conversation with psychologist. Then he spoke to my mom. Later he made me speak to his senior and then his senior spoke to my mom. In short, they wanted me in the psychiatry ward. The ward for those who suffer from metal sickness. And those wards are like jail, where one is not free to walk out. This drama was mind fucking and I yelled at them and walked out. And I was sent to psychiatry to take part in this drama, which is some three hundred meters away from the ward where I was, with a blood bag attached to my chest to collect blood from my body. And if I yell, the bag will collect more blood. I am sure the psychologist was convinced that he is prescribing medicine as per someone’s instruction and not because he felt that I need them. After yelling at him, I wanted out of the gate and smoked a cigarette with my left hand, while holding the blood bag in right hand. The idea to keep in mental asylum was to stop me from going to court. And even if I go, it should be with a tag, which is “not mentally stable”. The evidence I have sent to court are stable. Hence my mental stability won’t really matter as far as the case is concerned. But I didn’t want to stay there or eat medicines, which will make my brain go numb, other than making me sleep all day and night. I didn’t study medicine, but I know that too many pills can damage liver and I don’t understand them prescribing unnecessary pills, while my liver is damaged. Once after understanding that I am not interested in treatment for so called trauma, the hospital authority lost interest in treatment for my lacerated liver. So soon I was discharged without any tips on diet, medicine, follow-up and so on. My over all experience in KMC makes me say that Tamil Nadu is gifted to have robust public medical infrastructure like KMC, Stanley’s, CMC etc. Thanks to those who constructed them and made it operational. Unfortunately, today they are being used for petty politics and score settling, other than for treatment. Two weeks later, I been to KMC to remove stiches. After removing stitches, I went to meet the same lady doctor with a new X-ray, as instructed. The doctor in casual wear and the purse hanging at her waste all the way from her neck. She said; it looks good and don’t come here again unnecessarily. If at all she said that being afraid of, they trapping me into the psychiatry cage. Then it’s only because she is unaware of the fact that they will not be able keep me there, even for a day. Other than KMC, I consulted a private doctor. I had pain in my abdomen even after a month after discharge. I used to get pain if I yell, I used get pain while travelling. And alI did is; I brought two strips of antibiotics and had one pill a day. I did research on what food is good for liver and had plenty of them. I still get pain in my ribcage, where the stab injury was. I don’t know whether there was any hairline crack or not. I am thankful for the treatment I got from KMC, but it wasn’t complete and was with lot of bullshit.

Last Chapter:6

One would wonder as why people want to murder me? Why they want to make me mentally sick? Why people are not allowed to read from my website? What is that I have done to invite all this trouble? There were several issues in the last ten years, but it became so serious only in the last two years. And all that started with me sending a complaint letter to NIA police. The email was addressed to this gentleman in the picture below by name Alok Mittal.

I cannot blame this gentleman alone, because a copy of that letter was sent to PMO, union Home minister, and to prime minister Sri. Narendra Modi as well. It is for the same reason, the NIA officers are sure that their job will not be affected, even if I got to the court. But my instincts say something different. It is possible that the NIA gentleman may not have noticed what i sent. But the one who sponsored the trouble, which made write “dead” on my facebook wall on 24 December 2018, must have got to know it. And it is police who intercept my internet activity and inform this filthy rich sponsor , regularly for a consideration. The sponsor could have contacted NIA to strike a deal to hush the matter. The sponsor arranged this show with the approval of many who are powerful. Getting such approval from several for a crime or a criminal activity is called criminal conspiracy if I am not wrong. It is not just a complaint I sent to NIA two years ago. I kept calling them every now and then. And Alok Mittal is an honest officer who never had a punishment transfer or suspension for his great service to those wealthy and powerful. NIA used to either brush me or used to talk irrelevant things when I call them. NIA and all those who were involved in it wanted to bury this forever. Hence, they sent a hero by name Anwar abroad, with a passport given in my name using my documents.

Anwar known as Prasad Babu in Dubai where he lives.

This was done to bury the case by making me a fraud. A passport from Indian Union is the identity of India abroad and is accepted globally. Issuing such passport to someone wrong and sending him abroad to bury a case or a person is insulting India and those Indians who reside in other countries. This even made me do a research and I found that there several who are in Middle East countries with a passport and certificates belonging to other. A through verification can lead to imprisonment of many.

And they started spreading rumours, that I am fraud, thief, chain-snatcher and whatnot. This they did at wherever I stayed and worked in the last one years. My father’s relatives were happy that I can never approach court for my share of wealth they inherited. That way each one of them who were part of this conspiracy had a reason to support this cause. People should not read from my website and the contents from my site will be made available on different forums was just an extension of this plan to make me live the life of a fugitive. My source of income and livelihood was spoiled one after another. Simultaneously, there was an attempt to murder me as well. I even informed some of the international agencies about the same. It was considered as espionage by Indian Union. But it helped my survival so far. I been to court and spoke to lawyers and got to know that a writ petition can be pushed for months before it reaches the magistrate and thereafter. So I came up with a plan to appear in front of a magistrate. And as per that plan I called few MLA's and MP and abused them. One of them complained to police. I got a call from police after a week and I asked them to proceed legally. So they took the matter to the court. On 3rd of February 2020 I got call from police station stating there is a summons issued to me from Malappuram First class Judicial Magistrate court. And they sent me the copy of summons by email and WhatsApp. And that was the only summons I got so far. I wanted to attend the first hearing and make use of this opportunity. But the unprecedented lockdown stopped me from attending the court. And the court issued three summons in 118 days. I just got an sms about the third summons and wrote to court about me being in Chennai and inability to travel due to lockdown. I also reminded the honourable court about the epidemic act which protects. Then I sent few emails regarding those issues I am facing. I also requested court provide protection to my life. I called the court a day before my case was due and the Clark who answered my call said that my emails will be read on the day my case was scheduled for hearing. Then there were three more summons issued and there was absolutely no action taken on concerns I expressed by email. I forwarded the emails to honourable high court of Kerala and Supreme court. Usually, the court will take suo- motu case if they come across something in newspaper worth taking case. But here there was absolutely no action at all then pushing the case and issuing summons. And I don’t understand the jurisprudence of protecting a criminal. Their plan was such that Anwar can stay in Dubai as long as they push case forward. They can arrange someone to kill me in the meanwhile. Or they can issue a arrest warrant in the end and the police can make me have bruises on my body on the way to court, to take all the evidences from me and to make me say, what they wanted me to say in the court.

Other than this there was a fixing job done everywhere along with rumor. It was such that there is someone great and super rich living in abroad. And I am using his I’d cards like driving licence etc. And I will be in prison once he is back. That made many have some expectation. Some thought that GST registration I have for this website can be used to bill all those goods imported from abroad to evade tax. Some thought that they will get this website. Someone already declared that it belongs to them and they employ someone after sacking me. There are others who think getting this site could mean collecting money from two movie producers. There were two stories taken from my website for movies. It was neither with my permission nor I got any payment. Probably someone collected money saying it belongs to them. The great advantage of copy-pasting and telling people not to read from my site. I approached movie people and sent an email to sensor board regarding the same. The first movie is due for release and they want my site to be destroyed or I should be dead. Many innocent lives were spoiled with an idea to finish me. And their relatives and family hate me, even when they know that I am not the culprit. And Anwar is of the opinion that he will come to India as Prasad Babu only after my death. As per this plan, changing my name and giving away all belongings to whoever wants it, is the only option for me to continue my existence. A day before I was attacked, I got an agent code from a insurance broker. And that code is a license from IRDAI to sell insurance and thus making another reason to kill me. All those people would like to see me dead.

The case was due in twenty days after my discharge from hospital. I was not medically fit to travel to Kerala. But I choose to go attend the court. Because, If i wouldn’t have been to court, then I could had another attack by now, to stop me from going to court. I was in the court on the day the case was scheduled. But my case was not take up. So entered magistrate's room yelling; I am facing death threat. Police came to take me out, but the court officials and the magistrate rescued me. They heard me. They took a written request from me. They were nice and kind to me.

What worries me is that there is no action so far to bring Anwar back to India. There was no action so far to investigate the issues I informed to court. And there was attempt to kill on the way to court and while coming back to Chennai. And there after till now. The simple theory is such that they keep saying that we are going to finish him, every now and then. The public and police if there any sincere will get used to it and they get a chance. Let me say this, this website will be mine. Any movie produced using story from this website will never get any money for the producer or distributor. And legal action can follow even if the movie is flop. They will be flop and will be a below average movie, regardless of how much they spend for it’s production. If the movie is good, then people will watch it from YouTube, where it is freely available. The right lesson for those who say, anything on internet belongs to none and can be used for commercial purpose. Despite, all this death threat and dirty business of choking my income, I would like to say that I will win the case. Hence there will not be any change in my name. Other than all this, I should be alive to write an imaginary story, which is a commitment to two people, who are no more. And that is the stuff, which is HIGHLY INFLAMMABLE. It will be published on Amazon Kindle. I can think of that, only after fixing this existing issues.

World:

flamesofdissent.com welcomes the next elected president of America Mr. Joe Biden and Mrs. Kamala Harris. Congratulations and best wishes to the world leaders who will lead America here after.

What happened recently in Capitol took American politics to all new low I wrote before this US presidential election, that; be it Biden or Trump, it should be Americans winning the election. But what i did not write was that their was speculations about Russians screwing up the designs of previous US presidential election, which made Trump the president of America. Hence, it wasn’t appropriate for me or for the website I own in India to speculate on US presidential election during election eve. And this is because I don’t live in America and I am not a citizen of America. But despite such speculations about Russian involvement and manipulation in previous election, the transfer of power from former president Obama to president Trump was smooth and seamless. And I believe that is more civilized approach than what happened recently in Washington. I personally like Donald J Trump, who is a successful businessman, a television star and finally the president of America. But his administration was not really impressive. And that’s exactly why he couldn’t get second term like most of the former presidents of America did.

The main reason for Trump's defeat was his inability to stop police brutality on blacks. The “backlivesmatter” movement was just a product of police brutality and racial discrimination. And the way president Trump addressed this issue, when election was round the corner made it a cake walk for Joe Biden. President’s ‘terrorist’ remark on protesters was being unaware of the fact that it is the same terrorists who made him the president and the election is just months away. People may not remember what happened in the last four years, but they will of course remember what happened days and months before and after election is declared. It is psychology. This is why Indian politicians consider fixing street lights, the drainage systems, roads etc. few months before the election. And they know it often works.

I wish England and Europe a speed recovery from second wave of covid 19. The economy wouldn’t effect much, if lockdown norms are followed strictly for another two weeks. And even vaccines should be available by then. Eating egg, meat, sea food, Vegetables and drinking lots of water should help everyone stay heathy. Exercise for an hour for those young and walking for at least thirty minutes for elderly can be an option, while maintaining social distancing. And love wearing mask than getting sick.

Introducing India to the world.

Rahul Gandhi, the projected Prime ministerial candidate and the then President of Indian National Congress used to talk a lot about cleaning the system or changing the system, during 2014 general election campaign. Perhaps he had nothing else to say while representing a party which was immersed in curroption and scams like 2G spectrum, Adarsh Lavasa, coalgate etc. Or it was Rahul Gandhi’s systematic approach to win election, which obviously did not work. BJP led by Narendra Modi and other leaders countered it by saying; it is ‘Indian National Congress' who created and nartured this curropt system. And there was no talk about system, changing it or cleaning it, during the 2019 General election by both the parties. Does that mean the so called system is clean or changed after Modi's rule for five years? Or did the curropt practices reduce by even half?

My honest answer is no. There were few ornamental changes in the system, which were limited to direct transfer of cash into beneficiary's account, from various government schemes through Jan Dan Yogana and Aadhar. But the parameters for selecting the beneficiaries still remains non-transperant and it lies in the hands of local government bodies. This is where the politicians-bureaucrats nexus can continue to cultivate the system of curroption, favouritism, cronnyism and nepotism. And this culture begins right from government appointing bureaucrats, their promotions and will extend till they get their retirement benefit. With such bureaucracy, politics can’t be any different. It works as cause and effect. And those who are honest are given punishment transfers and suspension. By large this corrupt system is part of Indian culture and is connected to one another at a far deeper level.

Criminals and those sympathisers of criminals will often say that most of the criminals are good human beings by birth and in their lives. It is certain circumstances in their lives, which made them criminals. If it is true, then Mahatma Gandhi and Nelson Mandela could have been criminals. It is an effective way of justifing criminals and criminal activities. One can even say this is due to psychological disorder. But there are many, who engage in criminal and anti-social activities to become rich. To earn some easy money and to live luxurious life. And India is a country for incubating criminal ideas.

I am just quoting an example to tell you all, how curropt India is?

Few months ago I purchased an old bike. It was during the lockdown and the public transportation was not affordable. When I brought it, the bike did not have insurance and emmision certificate. And to transfer the registration to my name, the law says that the documents should be upto date. I have purchased and sold used bikes, many times in the past. But this was an unforgettable one. I insured the vechile with the name on registeration certificate as there is no other work around for this. Later, I took the vechile for emmision test and they said the vechile records are not found. I checked in National registery which is www. Parivahan.com and the vechile records were fine. I been to RTO next day and the guy said that I should pay green tax. In fact there is nothing called green tax in India for privately owned two wheeler. Upon explaining this, he said that the vechile is due for fitness test an year after. Again, I argued that vechile is fit for another year as per the records and rules. Later, they fixed the issue and I got the emmision certificate from the nearby fuel station. Now, all the documents are good and I just have to transfer it to my name. I tried to make payment online for changing name in registration certificate. And I got a popup saying that the tax is due for the vechile.

So I been to an agent to get this done and he said that the vechile records are not found. This made me go to RTO again and they said the green tax is due. Again I explained to them that there is nothing called green tax. The people at RTO will mess the records where no online payment can be done and the agent will charge two thousand to three thousand five hundred for fixing it. And actual government charge for changing the registered owner's name is just 350/- rupees. Rest of the green tax is shared between the agent and the people at RTO. I explained to them that, this green tax is collected from public (who were jobless during lockdown) by government employees who were paid and had employment even during lockdown. So finally they fixed the issue without me paying green tax and I paid rupees 350/- online to change registered owner's name. But they made me visit RTO five times to get this done. People in RTO and agents do this for money which should make people think that it is better not to change ownership. And even the brokers who sell and buy old bikes will preach that transferring ownership will decrease the resale value. And the police who stop to verify documents can easily be fooled by saying that the bike belongs to a friend or relative. And it helps smuggler, chain snatchers and all those who buy used vehicles for criminal activities. There is should an option for the seller to register the sale of vechile with RTO online. People at RTO and agents should charge an affordable green tax, where people can consider transferring registered ownership. Agents and people in RTO will get to earn the same amont of money because with reduced green tax, more people will consider keeping their papers upto date. Each regional transport office will have a poster from vigilance department stating bribe is crime. There should also be a price list of how much government charges for any changes on vechile records. So the public will get to know the excat amount of green tax they are paying to agents and the people at RTO. This is just an example of how and to what extent the green tax is collected from pubic in different government departments.

RTO, Revenue department and police respectively are the top most among green tax collectors in India. The fourth one was supposed to be the sale tax department, but GST has reduced the scope for green tax collection by sales tax officers. In general, bureaucrats pay for their appointment, to get transfered to a prefered place and even their education since childhood was by paying an exorbitant school fee. At least some of us have come across news about Canadian doctors going on strike, saying that they are being over paid and they say; saving lives is an honourary job. And it’s Canada a capitalist welfare state and not a communist country. And in Kerala doctors, nurses and medical staffs went on indifinate strike to increase their pay. The same doctors wanted less working hours in government hospitals, so that they can do private practice. Let me remind you that Kerala in India is state where Communist party of India comes to power, onces in every ten years.

So this tells that, we are all conditioned to think and act in a perticular way. And the conditioning starts right from childhood and shooldays. Those leaders who talk about the loss incurred in JNU and few universities in India should understand that education in India is right entitled to all. This means, it is illegal to punish protesting students. We can have curroption free government officers only with such ideas like free and quality education for all. India can very well afford that, but it always revolves around hypocrisy of caste, religion and regional sentiments. I have faced lot of public ire for saying that all government schools should be English schools. It is because politicians preach regional sentiment and expect those students who study in regional languages to compete globally. And those who preach regional sentiment will send their children to private English school. The government schools where the medium of instruction is regional will shut due to lack of students. Hundreds of government schools closed in Tamil Nadu is a classical example for this

And those politicians who fight for hindi, tamil, kannada are not even promising government job for those who study in regional language. RSS the idealogical mentor of BJP will be affected, if government school building and aminities are improved. RSS will be affected, if quality of education in government schools are improved. RSS will be affected if, medium of instruction in every government school is English, because they run number of private schools. RSS gets their cadres and their Shaka’s conducted in such schools. Such schools will not have any scope for existance,if education in all government school are good to compete globally. Hence BJP ministers will order lati-charge on student who protest. So the curropt system in India is by the few, of the few and for the people.

There is a saying Malayalam and it’s English translation is more or less like this; you drink water from this well? is an innapropriate question to ask a frog 🐸, which dwells in a well.

There anthor one and it’s English translation is; do you lick your finger? is an inappropriate question to ask for those who dip there hands into a pot filled with sugar serup. I didn’t mean to be sarcastic, but those who are born and lived iwellis curropt culture are the people who work and own Indian corporate world.

Recently business tycoon Mukesh Ambani’s name was in the news. And it was about SEBI imposing a fine forty thousand crore on RIL for manipulation in trade.

. Similarly ICICI bank's reputation was at stake when it’s MD Chanda Kochhar was in news for lending Videocon for kickbacks. Mehul Choksi and Vijay Mallya are among the few corporate economic offenders, whose name was lucky enough to make news for bad reasons. Hence some of our business leaders are setting examples for corrupt practices, when corporate leaders from across the world make their name for earning eithcally and contribute millions to the society. Jeff Bezuz, Bill Gates, Ratan Tata are few to name. And leaders like Rahul Gandhi should understand that the system in India will not change over night upon becoming Prime minister. An effort to change the system while being the leader of opposition will be appreciated than a promise during election campaign. Honourable Modiji should make NITI AYOG the think tank, think about changing these curropt culture of India.