08/08/2016 6:38 PM IST | Updated 12/08/2016 1:02 PM IST

ISIS, It's Time You Had An Abortion

The bastards are still at it. The teenagers who killed the French priest, the suicide bomber who attacked a music festival in Germany... all ardent ass-kissers of ISIS. So I have a little message for them and the likes of them.

Before that, though, here's a blast from the past -- a rite of passage you have to endure for the conclusion to fit right into your pocket.

What you are about to read does not have the blessings of God. He has made it clear that I am on my own on this one. He thinks I am crossing the line. So be it.

This time, I want to be the judge of it. Not him.


April 3, 2015.

I am standing with my wife in a large playground. There are a thousand others. The Good Friday service is in session. Veneration will soon follow. Hymns are being sung. Wife is mouthing the lyrics. I just stand solemn. By birth, she is an ardent Catholic and I am a liberal Hindu.

The tempo picks up in the air. So many people at once. All dressed up. Prim and proper.

The weather is perfect for the open-air setting. My arms are ambushed by a dense army of goosebumps. I surrender.

There is promise in the atmosphere. Veneration commences.

In the distant background, as we are entranced in the gospels, I hear the maghrib (after-sunset prayer) from a mosque that is five buildings away from the playground we are in.

A few notice. The rest ignore.

I wonder -- it is just one day, can't the Muslims leave it alone today? Dedicate the day to Christ?

The breeze romances the trees.

In a couple of seconds, from the far end of the street, bells from a Murugan temple start composing their rhythmic charm. It is Panguni Uthiram. A day on which Sri Deivanai married Lord Murugan.

Man, this is not cool.

Neither the mosque nor the temple has any regard for its brother from another mother, despite sharing the same confederacy.

I apologize to Jesus on behalf of the mosque and the temple.

He sacrifices his life for the people, and he can't get a moment to himself?

Is the mosque doing this on purpose? It is impossible for them to have been oblivious of the fact that today is Good Friday.

What about the temple? Why are they playing foul?

I shut up and listen. It starts to grow on me. The collaboration. Hymns here. Alla-hu Akbar in this corner. Murgunakku Haro Hara in that corner.


The first thing I do is hate the mosque and the temple. If you ask me, Jesus deserved the full day to himself.

In the playground, I see this kid running away from his mother's lap. He stumbles on a chair and falls on his face. The mother runs to his rescue. The kid is not crying. The mother pats his knees and wipes his face. She tells him that he is OK. He acknowledges this. He is not a fussy kid.

That is all the kid needed. He needed to be told that he is OK.

I think that is what they are doing. The mosque and the temple. Telling Jesus that they are OK with him. An act of compassion. Standing by him. Holding his hands.

I can only think of two options:

First, neither the mosque nor the temple has any regard for its brother from another mother, despite sharing the same confederacy.

Anybody surrenders to a gun, man. You give me a gun. I will make you pee. It is not a question of who holds the trigger.

Second, they feel for Jesus. This is their way of showing compassion. Besides, how else will they? These guys are super-awkward socially, and they never show up in person anyway. They might as well use their proprietary branch offices to send a message to the man who was crossed today 1980+ years ago.

By all means, I will go with the second option. Sounds legitimate. Appropriate. Too candid to plead coincidence.


Don't you see that?

They are all with each other, for each other. How do you know that the all three of them are not playing scrabble high over our heads right now? If you looked up right now you wouldn't see them though. Invisibility is their speciality.

None of them hate each other. They are all celebrities in their own leagues. Think about it. If anyone God was greater than the other, do you think he would allow the other newer or older God/s to evolve/survive? To be birthed in the first place? The way I see it, everything is God. Everything under the sun is born and dead out of its own situation and discretion. It is not right to meddle with this sacred order.

Despite their prophecy being solid, how come the Jews denied the claims of Jesus? How come who they refused to accept went on to change the face of the calendar for mankind? If Jesus was the ultimate son of God, how was Prophet Mohammed allowed to jump into the picture?

Religion is purely an art form. Each with its own structure, style subject, and configuration. All subject to interpretation. Every picture is engineered with a special stroke, colour, depth, ambience, motive and imagination. Regardless of their origin, form, or appeal, they share one common attribute -- the quality of being unique.

Art is to be cherished. It is not to be fought for, kill for, or be killed for.


ISIS, you take your God's name and kill folks because they are homosexuals, because they breastfeed in public, because they sell cigarettes. But what about Leishmaniasis? They are ripping your flesh apart and eating you alive, yet you have no punishments for them?

You guys are over 200,000 in numbers. It would take a Tsar Bomba to finish you off neat. To know a little sandfly is doing the job brings me immense joy. It'd not have been so, if you were any other people.

I am not sure if Islam will be the religion of the future. I have nothing against it. Nothing for it. What I do have, is fear.

I mean, I can never understand what in the world gives you guys this burning desire to wear your G.I. Joe-gone-rogue Halloween costumes and threaten people into yielding to your religious rigidity.

Anybody surrenders to a gun, man. You give me a gun. I will make you pee. It is not a question of who holds the trigger. The concern is what the trigger is going for. When it is for your uptight state of Mohammedan affairs, I feel that I should strangle your balls. Eyes, I mean. You don't need them, since you don't see the world right.


All the people, who are not captured by you and videotaped by your "Jihadi John" make fun of you. I am sure you know that. They call you heartless. No wonder it doesn't get to you. I even made a joke about you guys once. It goes like this.

Q. Hey, you know why ISIS takes heads?

A. Because they don't have one.

There are several other insurgency groups. But I am going to pick on you guys, since you guys seem to have excellent PR, world over.

Listen, all I have to tell you is this. ISIS, Boko Haram, the Hindus who burnt churches in Delhi, the infants of the future crusades . . . why the hell can't we all be together? Come on, come shake my hand. I am a good guy. Come to my house. My mom makes this amazing avakai pongal. Taste it. Let's celebrate life.

I could come to your place too (so long as you don't kill me or put anything in my bum) and eat your fatteh . Let's exchange cultures. Let's exchange goodwill. Let's give each other life. We have Facebook. We could be on each others' lists.


Word is that it is not Leishmaniasis, it is the USA killing you guys using a sophisticated biological weapon, since you guys stirred a shitstorm in a pisscup. That might even be my own conspiracy. I even have vague theories that you are the CIA's bastard children. The Snows sent to guard the wall.

God doesn't expect you to protect him, as much as you expect him to protect you.

God is a social recluse. So are his friends. One recluse deserves another. Should something happen to one of them, the others will jump to the rescue. God doesn't expect you to protect him, as much as you expect him to protect you. Yet, knowing that there is another equally powerful God other than yours makes you restless – and, therefore, headless.


The oldest and the foremost religion in the world is evolution. The rest is a combustion of mankind's masturbation.

As my wife would say, "ISIS, you have put us in a crisis" -- so before you can plunder us completely and impregnate Europe with Sharia – just as Baba Vanga, Nostradamus of the Balkans, predicted -- here's what I have to rub my tits on your face for:

Islam, like others, is still a religion. A religion is a business. A business needs people. Consumers. Consumers want benefits. Ones that fit their aspirations. If you give them something ill-fitting, they will discard it. If you want the world to wear your religion, you better have it well-stitched and make it look clean. Right now, the way you are flaunting it, it looks like you got into a drain and couldn't care less about cleaning up.

I am not sure if Islam will be the religion of the future. I have nothing against it. Nothing for it. What I do have, is fear. Because what you are asking of, or expecting people to do is insane. It's like my mother is still alive and I love her very much, yet you come, stone her head, kill her right in front of my eyes and then come tell me, "Call me, mommy."

Fearing for my life, I just might. But deep inside I am going to curse you. Hate you real good. For you killed my mother. And you will never take her place.

P.S. The offer of coming over to my place is valid only for those who have read the full article, and the offer expires upon reading this article.