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“Sunita! Darling, please!”
“It’s over Srinivas. It’s over between us, there’s no use crying now, you’re always….”
“Hello! Suni, hello! Hello! Hello!”
Darn signal, it never let me express myself. 
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Behind me going to the jungles to live the life of a commie bastard and assuming the post of communication director in the infamous green army obsessed with Mao bullshit, there’s a reason. There is love, there is pain and there is something intangible called network signal.

How did I ever enter this never ending jungle drama?

Is it because of that nagging girlfriend who lived in the next city and always believed that I couldn’t express myself? I tried following her wherever she went and try out different ideas but all in vain. She got fed up that I wasn’t connecting well with her and said she couldn’t deal with me anymore and we broke apart. A stupendous mound of cell phone bills started eating through my pockets and started corroding through the little change I had.

And then as if my girlfriend wasn’t enough my Dad left away for the Himalayas on a trip which he aptly named connecting India but failed miserably in the first step itself wherein he couldn’t connect a call to my phone. With all these tragic hoo – hahs taking place at the same time I couldn’t do anything but to look towards the jungle and shout “Noooooo!”

Probably my shrieks of despair sounded like the squeals of a dying farmer, the bloody brothers came down from the rocky forests of Chhattisgarh and granted me a prized meeting with them. That plus a few minutes and a bloated ego later I was dragged into the thick, lethal dens of the Mao’s.
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Firstly, people misunderstand us. And secondly we misunderstand the people. And finally the government misunderstands us both. We fight on the behalf of the people, for the people and we are the people. Isn’t this what true democracy means? And the government accuses of being hypocrites and double faced terrorists. Then what about those illegal mines which those old farts are digging? What about those lands they are taking over. What about the people who are getting affected by them? They dig are lands like termites minus the mounds. They made Chhattisgarh virtually into rat holes and sewer lines. The journalists pair up with them and show us in poor light. And inside the vicious circle, it’s the tribals who suffer, considering deadly diseases as a punishment from God and build more temples and do more black magic. In the end everybody gets killed but nothing happens.

It was our job to help the people and give away whatever they own, but well, everything works at 100% efficiency only in certain hypothetical conditions. We have moles and we’ve holes in our system and anything with either moles or holes in it is practically inefficient but our Commie brothers to an extent are successful. But what good does it do when you kill a few rats when there are millions of them running amok? That’s where we fail.
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It was that kind of a day in the forest that you wouldn’t know what to do and when to pee. After our daily dose of stale news and Mao chit chat I wanted to pee. We were camping a few kilometers away from the nearest police station and our target was to attack a nearby mine and create a small blood parade. But practically we’d only do the demolishing part as for the latter it’d be like asking a snake to kiss us. So I walked a bit away from our group so as to spare them from the aroma of my urine and I got to work. A tingling electric sensation passed through my body as I let out my liquid ammonia. I was admiring the serene beauty of the rotting trees and bird dropping when….

A phone started ringing. I switched my AK 47 from my arm into my hands and got ready to attack. I took my position behind the tree where I’ve just peed and started savoring the smell, but nothing happened. Not even a movement. I slowly looked from behind the tree. No one. The forest ended just a few feet from my right where bundles of rocks jutted out into the valley. And two my left were my commie brothers and there was no possibility of anyone hiding there. I got out and started following the sound. The sun shone brightly in the sky and a small reflection of the sun’s rays hit my eye. I looked down and there was a phone which was belting the ringtone. I picked it up and I was shocked by one thing. Full signal. This thing had a full signal deep here down in the forests of Chhattisgarh, am I dreaming?

Alcatel. That was what was written on the phone. I gave the screen a look and man it looked like a mini television. It was perfectly visible even in the harsh sun and there was this Tata Docomo displaying inside it. Whattafind!
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“Tata’s? Do the Tata’s own it? Then it’s reliable!”
“Full signal? WHAT!”
“Man look at the screen”
“Arre!, Lookey here, Shah Rukh Khan’s image is here”
“What the… Arre is this a phone or a mini theatre?!”
“Hey, there’s a camera too!”
“Srinivas! Where did you find it?”
I told them everything about the find and they were pretty convinced that the phone wasn’t rigged. I had to literally fight to take the phone away from them, it already became their friend. They let go of it only under one condition that I should play songs from Dabangg in loop.  I had to agree. I scrolled down the contacts list and found the contacts of a few hot shots in there. Nono, not a few. The number of every possible politician and police officer in the state were loaded in it not to forget the Prime Minister’s email id and phone number. A pretty machine to use!
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I was reluctant to go with the team first but my mates dragged me to the mining site as they felt that the forest was a bit vulnerable at that time. The truth is, I wanted to spend more time meddling with the phone but what’s an ant before an anteater? I was mercilessly dragged down the rocky slopes towards the lime quarry, supposedly the biggest illegal mine in the state.

As we neared the mine, the Mao mystics separated themselves to form an attack formation. I joined the surveillance team which only sees but doesn’t attack. We got around the fencing of the quarry and perched ourselves behind a small rock. I sat there for over an hour, and I still couldn’t hear the fireworks. I looked furtively from behind the rock I was stationed. There was no action whatsoever. A few Lorries were being loaded up by some workers. And well that was what was holding us back. Unable to bear the boredom I took out the Alcatel phone again and started toying with it. I was amazed to find a video recording mode too and started recording one featuring my mates. Two minutes later a police siren broke the silence of the stones with its shrill sound reverberating through the entire quarry. My brothers cocked their guns and positioned themselves into the ultra attack mode. But then, the siren stopped all of a sudden and I moved from behind the rock and scanned the area. Barely a hundred feet from me, there was an eight car convoy with a police jeep in the front. A few policemen got down from the jeep and opened the door of one of the cars. A man in a white Kurta Pyjama got down along with a police officer. In the excitement of catching a better look I forgot that the phone was still in the video recording mode and the entire happening were being stored perfectly in its memory. And then I got an idea. An idea to destroy all the other useless ideas around. And I set to work.
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Luckily, the attack mission was quickly aborted due to the presence of a literal army of black commandos and a fight with them would mean suicide. I strayed a bit behind the rocks and moved further near the convoy and found myself an audible center seat just behind the convoy and recorded the video with little pieces of coherent audio. Well, at least that’s what I thought until I reviewed the video after going back into the forest. But what amazed me was the clarity and the quality of both the video and the audio. And it looked magnificent on a 2.4 inch screen. A thieving politician and a corrupt police officer who came there to reassess the condition of their mine. And I got it on camera! It was the same old politician who promised the tribals free land and better income who was boring up their land. And I felt like a puppet in need for some strings. I meddled with the video again, and suddenly, a message popped up, send as MMS or send as Email. And I just had another eureka moment of the day.
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“Saar! I am naxalite. I help people and kill with Mao and guns. But why blood I think. So I take this video and send. We are good people, people are good people, but people in video are not good people. They steal land from us. We don’t kill them because of police, but I shoot them in phone. Hope you take action, because then I can leave jungle.
P.S: Give me missed call, I will call you back.
Yours Sincerely,
Srinivas,
Master in Arts, Naxalite.”

First I thought that it wouldn’t work. But what’s wrong in trying? I added the Prime minister’s, Chief minister’s and a few other minister’s and police officer’s email ids to the send to list and uploaded the video file. I was prepared for an error message but five minutes later, I realized that I was successful in sending the mails. Around the evening my mates called me for some Mao pep talk and I forgot everything about the phone. And sleep came calling in after a long day’s work.
I dreamed about my phone growing into to a colossal monolith of silicon and crushing corrupt people under its tremendous weight. Blood started sloshing here and there and Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, second movement started playing, I was enjoying the beauty of it when I found myself awake with the phone blaring out the ninth symphony. And that call changed our lives. It was from the Prime Minister of India, 
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“Hello Bangladeshi bhai! What brings you here today?”
“I brought new guns! I’ve even brought 8 bazookas which you wanted, all top class and tip top.”
“What?! Don’t you know?”
Everyone started laughing except Bangladeshi bhai who couldn’t make out the situation.
“No more guns now, we’ve found a better weapon”
“What?!”
“Haan! See this. Alcatel phone from Docomo. Tata product bhai! Free internet and mast videos record karta hai. And everyone is afraid of this nowadays. We just take videos and upload them on YouTube! Our video channel is one of the biggest hit on their site nowadays! And you know what? All politicians are peeing in their pajamas! We sold our guns too, now we are giving these phones to the tribals in the villages. Super coverage, here you to take one and use it. Bangladesh has something like ULFA na, use it there. If you’ll excuse me now, I need to go. I’m turning into an informant now. I might tell your name also, so be careful bhai!”
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Two Months later:
The naxalite groups have almost disbanded as of now. Many of my old comrades got hi tech jobs in corporate news houses and in civic development departments. A few got remanded to jail and a few died with the Mao ideologies. There was a sudden bullet famine in Chhattisgarh and the social communities became happier. Everyone has one became the motto and those Alcatel phones became quite a rage. I’ve even heard that a few farmers are using it to know more about weather and soil information and a few enthusiastic kids started talking about share markets too.
And me? I joined the ruling party’s regional empowerment squad.  My email became so popular that it landed up in the party’s election manifesto and it went on to win the elections. One day,


“Oi! Forgotten me?”
“Sunita?”
“Yes, it’s Sunita. Will your call get cut again? Because I’m fed up with it”
I was silent.
“Hello! Hello! Hello Sri…”
“Do the new Sunita, everyone does and even I did that and I think we’ll never get interrupted again”

For the people, that’s where the true beauty of Maoism lies, and that’s where it is there to stay. And wars and people cannot be won over by bullets. And the time has come where we should change them and do the new. With roses and love. In the end that's what is going to help mankind go ahead. After all it is love which created. To life!
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Published for Alcatel: Docomo's share life contest. Vote for me! :)