As the country grapples with another debate about what does and does not constitute privacy and free speech, we haven’t heard from the most important participant in the events that led up to the discussion: our friendly, neighbourhood moral guardian. So we thought we’d bring in some balance to the debate and let them present their case.


Greetings, pervert vermin of the internet. Thank you for taking some time out from watching unethically made East European porn to read this strongly worded article. I realise how difficult it is for you to do something that doesn’t involve the stimulation of your genitals. However, before I begin, I implore you to wipe the drool emanating from your mouth, pull up your pants and put both your hands where I can see them.

That’s better.

Now, I know that you don’t like me. You think of me as an unnecessary evil. You think you’d be better off if I didn’t exist. You think that I am some maladroit low-life with such a delicate sensibility that my whole life revolves around trying to banish anything that even remotely challenges my worldview.

But that’s okay! I didn’t volunteer to be the guardian of our society’s morality because I wanted accolades. Stopping people from getting access to things that upset me has its own reward. My bland and unappetising vegetarian salad becomes more digestible when I remind myself that I am the reason that millions of people can’t eat beef. The rote missionary intercourse I have with my female wife feels a little spicier when I close my eyes and think about all the gay sex people are not having because of my PIL. I feel really powerful when I misuse the law of the land along with my loyal rent-a-mob to get an artist to apologise to me for crossing whatever whimsical line I draw in the sand.

The Last of the Mohicans

However, my job isn’t all money and faux respect. I face a rather large number of difficulties. And yet, I solider on, because I know I am the last guardian of this country’s sole. If you think I’m bluffing, you try finding things to be offended at in a culture that idolises mediocrity. Most of the time, whatever passes for art in our collective mainstream is so devoid of any substance that I have to literally clutch at straws to find something to get indignant about. The only offensive thing I find in Chetan Bhagat’s novels is the cheap paper they’re printed on. Our movie industry regularly pumps out box-office behemoths that are so eager to please that the only emotion they elicit from me is pity. And our teevee programmes are so adept at preaching morality that they even make me feel like a sinner sometimes.

Do you have any idea what constantly remaining vigilant for things that might turn out to be the slippery slope that leads to the complete annihilation of our ancient civilisation does to your blood pressure? Some days, I find it difficult to even get out of bed. The fact that I can breathe is a bloody miracle. And you have the audacity to tell me that I don’t contribute?

Go to hell, you ungrateful bastards.

Anyway, I digress. Over the past week I’ve seen all those busybodies who have hijacked our national discourse yammer on about free speech and privacy. Falsehood after falsehood has been passed on as fact while the subservient media has looked on, not even trying to set the record straight.

I don’t know which country these free-speech ayatollahs thought the stork dropped them in, but this is India. We do things a little differently here. Frankly, not everything that takes place in the west can be replicated in India. For example, do you think the Mona Lisa would have ever been famous if she would have been painted by an Indian? There would have been so many questions that it would have driven the model to suicide! Why is she outside, unaccompanied by a male relative? Why has she shown her face openly to someone who isn’t her husband? Did she take her family’s permission before parading herself like that in front of the rest of the world? Does her sly grin signify her intentions to cheat on her husband?

Sure, the government goes a tad overboard when banning things. But that is for our own protection. Always better to err on the side of caution. Take the case of Fifty Shades of Grey. I was looking forward to finally being able to sit back and watch that classic work of art on the big screen. It’s a movie about a manipulative a******e who wants to control every aspect of other people’s life. What’s not to like?

However, despite my obvious enthusiasm, I still supported the government’s ban on it because I always put the needs of the republic before mine. I have made it my life’s work to submit myself to the country. I would do anything for this great nation! Like have someone put a ball gag in my mouth, tie my hands up with a rope and spank me with a paddle. That’s how dedicated I am!

I Will Survive

Look, I’m not blind. I admit that times are a-changing. And the boundaries of what is socially acceptable are broadening too. But don’t you for one moment think that I’m going to quietly fade away into the night. I am always going to be around, in some form or the other. Watching you, making sure that you don’t do anything that I wouldn’t approve off.

I am the watchful theatre patron who forcefully throws out all those unpatriotic heathens who didn’t stand up when the national anthem played before every movie. I am the sanctimonious relative who would rather kill a loved one than let them violate archaic societal diktats. I am the police officer who uses the power of the state to interfere in the lives of consenting adults.

It’s always been my world. You just live in it.