Climactic Moment


Being denomination-neutral, at least so far, climate makes for excellent conversation even if most of it is in circles, like that hole in the bucket, except that resistance to change the status quo is said to stem mainly from fears of burning a hole in the pocket. That still remains an inflationary prospect despite nose-diving fuel prices, a godse-nd for New India where every Indian will have a car, with or without roads. If folk, or volk as it may turn out, out there have trouble finalising the solution to the ticklish question, they can look to Kashmir for inspiration. It has happened in the past, and can happen again – the inspiration, that is, not the question – especially when the Valley is united body and soul in ittehad-e-fikr-o-amal.

Shooting first and asking questions afterwards has evidently been found wanting as policy, and could have been subjected to some minor anticipatory modification, of course with painstaking care to leave the original cart-before-the-horse character of the blueprint intact. Some say it is a document, and of doubtful provenance, but swear on its deadly impact, and not only on climate. That latter, the weatherman, who has always been right but seems to have suddenly turned wrong, says has to do with Western Disturbances, mainly rising from the Arabian Sea.  Science, after all, is thought to be a far more reliable tool than even contemporary history, a recent realisation in circles of a certain hue who have been crying “We Told You So” ever since, albeit a trifle more crudely in comparison to circles of some other hue.

Whether the competing circles would place the Arctic Circle around the North or the South Pole is a matter of major conjecture for many, but the US President, a glorious example of sublime thought and ridiculous action, carries no baggage of such doubts. Travelling light, he is reported to have cut of his Agra leg, sorry, the Agra leg, of his tour, perhaps because of the historicity of the city, something deserving to be effaced, or its awkward memories of summits turning sour. The official word, however, is that of engagements not humanly scheduled.