Oh what a joy it is to celebrate Valentine's day in India, place of storied songs and romance.
Where, of course, amorous public couples (or ANY couples in public) risk being beaten up by Bal Thakur's goondas for being desolutely western and depraved. Unlike the devas and devis of the Hindu pantheon, who are a bunch of frickin' prudes, with no sex life at all entirely! Certainly not in a place where innocent women, children, or elephants, might see them.
There are NO dalliances on the walls of temples, no obscene statuaries. None. I do NOT know who told you there were, but he was probably a Christian. All good puritans I mean Hindoos KNOW that love, lust, and concupiscence, are NOT things that go on in a Hindoo nationalist world.
This year, as previous years, Hindu Nationalist gangs have gone around terrorizing anybody who looks like they may be celebrating Valentine day. Face blackenings, hair shavings, man handlings, and other shames too crude to detail.
Bak Thackery and the Shiv Sena in Bombay
Bal Thakur, formally known as Kesav Sitaram Thackeray, also known as Naprabodhankar Thackeray, and Bal Thackeray, is the notorious former newspaper scribbler who becomes a Hindu Nationalis goonda chief in Mumbai, shakes down businessmen and unions alike, and employs thuggish practices to spread his vision of a pure Maharashtra for the blissfully blinkered.
That he is antimuslim is charming, that he is a violent criminal in that pursuit is unforgivable, and that he is a most perniciously narrow-minded goondu is an incontestable flaw. More or less the Geert Wilders of Maharashtri politics, but combining also thereto the sensibilities of a blackmailer mixed evenly with Maffioso tactics and violent racketeer tendencies. Key responsible for the violence in Mumbai post-Babri-masjid fiasco in 1992, which caused the brutal deaths of thousands, also founder of the Shiva Sena, and willing collaborator with Baharatia Janata Party dickey boys.
Bal Thackeray is unashamedly an admirer of Hitler, whom he lauds as an artist and inspired leader. His methods, were he given the chance, would more than make his idol proud. So sadly for him the government still has a few standards, and disdains the open criminality of the marginal mobbing. The Sirkar consequently keeps him in local check.
In the meantime, his faithfully moronic devotees attack couples in public on Valentine's day, because love is a corrupt western plot that will bring down the proud hindoo nation, and gift-giving, emotion, and pretty cards are the vectors of disease such as should not touch the loyal Indian.
One would call him a chutia, save that the operative verb there is antethical to his ideology.
Which is more about death, and the handling of corpses.