How do I insult thee? Let me count the ways.
This must be the favourite poem of trolls who bottom feed on the Internet. Well, before the trolls get to me, I will be upfront: there is no such poem. There is a poem like it, but I have changed one word. Also, I would be impressed if trolls had heard of the poem and also know which word I have changed.
I know. How snobbish of me. No wonder I get trolled. I probably deserve it.
There are though, I have found, three aspects of one’s life which will inevitably lead to incessant trolling.
The first is being female. Now this I had no control over. I imagine I should blame my father. But that makes little sense because it’s not as if he had control over which sperm, it’s just that the sperm determines the XX or XY or any other combinations. Although, I hear there is new research which suggests that the egg decides which sperm to choose. On the whole I think it’s better to blame both parents and thus absolve myself of all responsibility. It seems fairer this way.
Although, don’t tell those trolls which thrive on misogyny that new genetic research also suggests that intelligence comes from the mother. On the other hand, I think I’m falling so deep into rabbit holes that I won’t be able to dig myself out. Because what about those mothers who produced these vicious trolls?
O dear. I’ll stop now.
Anyway, the thing is that trolls don’t like females. Or to be more definitive, females who have opinions which they express.
And what really upsets them is if these trolls are from Bengal. I did not realise that the Bengali woman is such a hated person. How innocent you might say. Most of my life, I’ve been fed up of the other more usual cliches about Bengalis — so cultured, so artistic, so clever and so on. As if every Bengali was some combination of William Shakespeare, Leonardo Da Vinci and Albert Einstein combined. Or in Bengali, Rabindranath Tagore. If you meet half my relations, you would know what a laugh that is.
It was after the sad death of actor Sushant Singh Rajput and the subsequent vilification of a Bengali starlet, that I learnt that the greatest attribute of Bengali women is that they are witches who are experts in black magic. Now, had anybody told me this before, I see that my life would have been very different. Sadly, there was no internet when I grew up and for a good part of my adult life. So, I never met a troll and never learnt this important fact about myself. If any troll reads this, I would be happy to fulfil their fantasies if they could point me in the direction of any witching school which specialises in “jaadu-tona” or is it “kaala jadu”? Either way, do forgive my attempt to try and use words associated with North Indian prejudices. However, surely it is not too late to learn how to punish those who deserve it and revenge they say is best served cold? Watch out, all ye who crossed my path in the past! Er, does this include the trolls? Hmmm. Food for thought. Although I have to find the local equivalent of Hogwarts or wherever Gandalf went to school, something perhaps like the Special Bengali Women’s Higher College of Kaala Jadu and Tona.
Of course, I forgot to mention that many Bengalis are also Islamo-Christo-Fascist-Commie-Congressis. I am not certain what this political combination implies but it certainly makes it clear that these Bengalis are not the bigoted Hindutva right-wing. Except of course those of my relations in Bengal who voted for the BJP. Presumably they get trolled by Islamo-Christo-Fascist-Commie-Congressis, who from all accounts are not as successful as trolls than our dear pals (and relations) on the right.
But you know what upsets these trolls even more than being female, Bengali, witches, Islamo whatever? It’s being all those things plus being concerned about the environment, trees, forests, wildlife, green cover, global warming and that sort of thing. That is the absolute tipping point.
I realised this to my innocent amazement when I posted on social media about the Great Nicobar project. Now I had posted about this before. But posting it after a certain opposition leader had visited the islands of Nicobar was apparently the end of all tolerance. Every misogynistic sexual taunt and verbal assault was thrown at me, with no concern for the various black magic spells that I could throw their way. The rage was total! Bad enough that I was pro-rainforest and anti-development and national security concerns and whatever else enrages them. But to show support for the environment after a visit by an Opposition politician? No way. That cannot be tolerated.
Forests can be chopped down. Wildlife destroyed. Tribals lose their homes. But opposition politicians must be opposed. And as long as thousands of crores of rupees are spent, we can be sure that our security and strategic interests are well looked after. Plus, those of a few friends. O no. I did not just write that. And shh. Not a word about border and security transgressions which may or may not have happened in recent times.
I am cursed with a vivid imagination it seems.
And believe me, I do understand the rage against those who have ecological concerns. I mean, what right do I have as I travel in massive convoys and sit in my air-conditioned palace to care about a few trees in some remote island in the south of the nation, inhabited by a few turtles and even less people? Why am I so concerned about falling mountains, increasing temperatures, melting glaciers, rising sea levels, extreme weather events, species extinction and whatever else that environmentalists claim to be bothered about?
This is a question to which I have no real answer. Except for falling mountains, increasing temperatures, melting glaciers, rising sea levels, extreme weather events, species extinction…
Ah well, perhaps I exist to give employment to trolls in these difficult times…
Sorry, did I say difficult? My mistake. I meant wonderful. Obviously.
No?
Disclaimer : This story is auto aggregated by a computer programme and has not been created or edited by DOWNTHENEWS. Publisher: deccanchronicle.com
