Posted by: truevoid | February 19, 2010

the white tiger

the white tiger by aravind adiga – okish

I should start off by kissing some God’s arse. Which God’s arse though? There are so many choices. See, the Muslims have one God. The Christians have 3 Gods and we Hindus have 36,000,000 Gods. Making a grand total of 36,000,004 divine arses for me to choose from.

Its true that all these gods seem to do awfully little work – much like our politicians – and yet keep winning reelection to their golden thrones in heaven, year after year.

Here’s a strange fact: murder a man, and you feel responsible for his life – possessive even. You know more about him than his father and mother; they knew his fetus, but you know know his corpse.

Some politician on the radio was saying that that;s why we Indians are going to beat you; we may not have sewage, drinking water, and Olympic gold medals, but we do have democracy. If I were making a country, I’d get the sewage pipes first, then the democracy, then I’d go about giving pamphlets and statues of Gandhi to other people, but what do I know? I’m just a murderer!

Free people don’t  know the value of freedom, that’s the problem.

Hundreds of pale hens and cages, packed as tightly as worms in a belly, pecking each other and shitting on each other, jostling just for breathing of terrified, feathered flesh. On the wooden desk above this coop sits a grinning young butcher, showing off the flesh and organs of a recently chopped-up chicken, still oleaginous with a coating of dark blood. The roosters in the coop smell the blood from the above. They see the organs of their brothers lying around them. They know they’re next. Yet they do not rebel. They do not trying to get out of the coop.

The Rooster coop doesn’t always work with minuscule sums of money. Don’t test your chauffeur with a rupee coin or two – he may well steal that much. But leave a million dollars in front of a servant and he won’t touch a penny.

A handful of men in this country have trained the remaining 99.9 per cent to exist in perpetual servitude, a servitude so strong that you can put the key of his emancipation in a man’s hands and he will throw it back at you with a curse.



  1. Hey, thanks for the comment on my blog 🙂 i’m bad with numbers, will correct the sequence there.

    I’ve not read the White Tiger book, but guessing from the lines here, it seems that the pathos of Indians described, got him the booker. No? For the western people, such things perfectly fit the stereotype of India.

    Just my thoughts 🙂


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