Thol Ji, Vanakkam!

Heard you never received my first letter ( I am somewhat relieved at this news. Why strain those neurons when they can soak in the ignorance which is bliss? In any case, I do not for a moment feel that it was important anyway. You would have trashed it, or worse, tried to understand it. I did the trashing for you myself, as a pre-emptive strike. You see, the leader of your coalition in New Delhi has no pretensions of scholarship or deep understanding. I sent the letter to him. I thought that would be equivalent to trashing it, and you would be happy. Any chance to beat those Hindi-niks with a brahminical Dattatreya janeudhari superiority complex anyway.

Now what is this? I hear you wish to burn the ManuSmriti. I am very pleased to learn it. In fact, I am all for it. Burn them all, I say.

In fact, I have a counter offer for you, you great bibliophile, you! I suggest you give me 3-5 names of the books you wish to burn from the Hindu Samhita. Pick as many you want. I will convince my friends to agree to gather them in a pile and light them up with utter seriousness and purpose. Bring it on! Vedas, Upanishads, the Gita, Puranas, choose to your heart’s content.

Then, I have a simple request. Since you show such probity in the destruction of tomes that are positively harmful to the society, I will give you my list of ‘timeless’ classics from your side. One each from an Abrahamic religion you serve to curry votes from and one from the non-Abrahamic religion of Karl Kapital. They have their own denigrations and put-downs as you must have realized by then, or if you do not, you will soon.

So, you will need to convince your side to work with you on this. You might need to work hard to preserve that soft silken voice and keep the equally sensitive skin on while you try to make them agree.

Let me give you the secret, my friend! For whom the bells may Thol! We can live off of nothing! In fact, we thrive on nothing. Burn them all, take everything, all the publications! All our teachers began with the tabula rasa. By burning everything within, of course!

They did not make a big show of it. They kept it in. They were not looking for votes, you see. But only their own truth. I know this concept of truth or fact might again be too hard for you to comprehend. What is truth if it does not translate into a count? Or does not gather a mob to rile up, you will say? And I will understand.

That is why, I say this. Without stressing your gentle neurons, I propose you burn our books and we burn yours. We swap names and then the flames. The Thol of demanding everything sometimes can be scary. Your wish just might be granted! And then what do you do with it? You see, my great exegist of the Super Slop, the dust and ash on your sleeve will be messy. But that is why you have me. I will cover you with the cloak of laziness, so that you are no longer embarrassed. But let me not ex-Thol your virtues so openly.

Let us clear the air once and for all of this smoke. Let us work towards more important things, like the hustings. You really never read the books, did you? Why bother? Twitter can supply the easily-undigested nuggets you never need. Rest all is encumbrance. You do not have to entertain any such illusions or concern. Now no books, no thought and you are free. To win.

And we are too. Free to begin again, with a clean slate. To be what we always were. Fresh minds and hearts. Without prejudice, or pre-knowledge. We can do that very easily. It is the ever-refreshing spring for us. We would love it. We revel in it.

Can you? And can your handlers let you do it? Even in thought, word or tweet!

Poituvaren Thol Thol! It Thols for thee!

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