Fingers "POINTED " Towards Me ? ." HELLO " The World , "HELLO " Indian Government , " HELLO - SUPREME - COURT " What Is My Fault
Is writing a “ SIN ” or does it means that writing interlinks and join the two or more than two to know about the opinions and to form a better opinions upon the opinions on which the things could improve.
Does writing appropriately and very precisely a “ CATASTROPHE
” that one who reads that ought to take certain measures which
could be termed as “ BURISH ” as an attitude, and
then play some trick, using the technocrats under the disposal, to OPRESS
the written words and the statements, only to QUENCH their
desire about being fallacious to themselves, rather than making the others a FALLACY
Why do I write these lines. Why is that I have gathered this
“ NON
- ACCEPTIMG – MELANCHOLY ” about this. I find that , of recent, my write
up in my blog page , with the main photo is intertwined with the main photo of
some other headline, and furnished on my page when I transfer, or share this
article, on my blog page for the readers to read it.
The classiest example has been of the article on “ OPERATION
– SINDOOR ” where the ones who are JEALOUS of the
achievement , of the Indian Scientists, and of the Indian Defense Force, are
playing the truant.
The BLOGGER COMMUNITY which is a
BOGUS community has turned its heal to do this . I find it very hard why should
they do it .I advocate my points of view as
such - ::
PARADOX IS AS OLD AS HISTORY ENOUGH - ::
Each time I dare to write something steeped
in truth and fortified with facts, I become the subject of
ridicule, dismissed as nonsense or rubbish. The paradox is as old as history
itself: truth-tellers are rarely
celebrated in their own time. Their words sting too much, their
presence unsettles too many, and their refusal to bend makes them appear
intolerable.
CARICATURES OF
FALSEHOOD - ::
Enemies gather in the shadows not because my words lack
proof, but precisely because they hold too much of it. Truth, by its very
nature, is abrasive to those who prefer the comfort of illusion. Thus, what I
present with painstaking evidence is twisted by adversaries into the caricature
of falsehood.
Purposely they take it so and purposely they behave as
such. It really is shocking, but as I have the habit to absorb the shock, I
take it in my strides. Though at times with the pinch of salt, but than as they
say – THE SALT MAKES THE RECIEPE SO
TASTY.
SUFFFOCATE MY PRESENCE - ::
This is not an accident but a
recurring pattern. Writing with integrity attracts hostility like a flame draws
moths. And every sentence I publish seems to sharpen the knives of those
waiting to brand me as an inconvenience, to reduce my labor into a
laughingstock, and to suffocate my presence.
Repeated and regular occurrences of
what I have written so far, above has become a task for the others to cushion
and compress me, but my TOUGH
GRINDS , keeps them at bay. However at times I feel that THIS IS TOO MUCH.
It is very hard to
mince me, it is also hard for anybody to pounce on me, thinking that I would be
scared to GIVE IT BACK. Nothing deters me but I feel that WHY
ARE THE PEOPLE SO AGAINST THE PRIDE OF THE NATION when I write
about them for the others to GLORIFY them.
Pic - :: A " TERMENDOUS" Bar - At - Law And A " I.A.S " , Netaji Subash Chandra Bose The Great Patrioat And Son - Of - India " THROWING" His Letter Of Resignation From The " HEAVEN - BORN - SERVICE" Of British - India
BHATTACHARJEE
SHYAMAL Blogger - : THORN WEDGE FIRMLY
My blog page, Bhattacharjee
Shyamal Blogger, has become more than a digital diary; it has
become a thorn wedged firmly in the eye of many. What I write is not swallowed
easily because it forces confrontation with realities people prefer
to ignore. My words sting precisely because they are unvarnished.
Unbearable to the readers - :
I do NOT write to gain any favours
from those WHO HATES INDIA,
and I do not wish to gather ADMONISHMENTS from those who LIVES and LAYS
his life for India , when I write anything that relates to India. Unbearability
and indespensabilty are related to the parcel and the parts of my write – up ,
but then it is that and that is so. I do not write to make anybody, either
comfortable or uncomfortable.
To the reader who seeks comfort, my
blog is unbearable. But to the reader who seeks truth, it is indispensable. The thorn pricks
because it pierces through layers of denial, and denial, when punctured, bleeds
bitterness.
My BLOG – PAGE Has
Turned Into A Battleground - :: ART OF DEFIANCE
Thus, my blog has turned into a
battleground where the act of writing is itself a defiance. It does not
merely inform; it provokes. And provocation, in the world of politics and
power, is treated less as journalism and more as insurgency.
Feelings are as soft as the fragrance
of a flower blossomed in the early morning, or the feeling of the scent, when
it is applied on the body. How is the feeling is how is the “ NOSE ” that feels
that. However the big, or the small, that the nose could be, the
depth and the intensity to feel the fragrance or the smell or even the scent is
alike .It does not differentiates anything about anything or everything in that
matter.
HONESTY- IT
IS NOW, NOT A VIRTUR, IT IS A LIABILYTY
“ Honesty is the best policy,” we are told from childhood.
Yet, in the grim theater of modern public life, honesty is treated as an
impediment, an obstacle to ambitions measured only in wealth and influence. To
too many, honesty is not a virtue but a liability.
Honesty by any mean, and honesty by every mean DOES
NOT FITS IN AT OR IN ANY POCKET, HOW BIGGER WOULD OR COULD BE THE SIZE OF THE
POCKET.
The tragedy is that truth-telling,
instead of being honored, is punished. Speak with candor, and you risk
alienation; stand by facts, and you invite isolation. The man who insists on honesty
finds himself a misfit in a world fueled by manipulation.
I have lived long enough to see the
phrase stripped of its meaning. It survives in textbooks and speeches but not
in practice. In the corridors of power, honesty is not the best policy—it is the
most expensive mistake.
Honesty to survive needs a BLOOD which is not
as THIN
as water but it ought to be far more THICKER than the blood. Basically HONESTY is as precious as as QUENCHIER
as that it could be compared to anything and it is water, but like the water ,
now and now – a – days it flows in the gutter of the society
where the human being survive to die a painful death, to live in for that a kind
of a death to visit them.
CRUELTY THAT I
ENDURE – THE THEFT OF MY WORDS
There is yet another cruelty I endure: the theft of my
words. My blogs and articles, carefully crafted and painstakingly researched,
have been stolen by many, especially those who parade under the banner of
journalism. They twist and turn my ideas for their gain, stripping them of
context and authorship.
It takes much and many a kind of pain staking effort to
research and find many a fact unknown, which I discover them through my
painstaking and aldous job, of researching but then after I put them into my
blog, IT BECOME ANYBODY PROPERTY that I find. Stealing it AS
IF LORD KRISHNA STEALING THE BUTTER IN HIS CHILDHOOD, and as
though, as if, that is his ETERNAL right to steal it from
the land of Brindavan to share it with his Brindavani’s friend , it as though,
one feels to steal my contents from my blog.
WHAT IS THE REWARD I GET- THE BLOGGER
COMMUNITY SENDING ME THE WORDS OF BEWARE AND CAUTION- AS IF I’M REALLY BOTHERED
ABOUT IT. It is all BUMKUM for me when I find
those kinds of CAUTIONING THREAT.
I have seen my sentences resurface in
newspapers and portals, my arguments repackaged, my voice appropriated without
acknowledgment. It is intellectual plunder, carried out not by amateurs but by
professionals who should know better.
Yet I have not made a career of complaining. My silence is not consent, but resilience. Still, it is
disheartening to watch a world that calls itself free exploit the labor of
writers like me while denying them the dignity of their voice.
Over the years, I have
discovered that many of my harshest critics do not object to my facts but to my
independence. Their allegiance to Rahul Gandhi, to Congress, and to the UPA
compels them to reject me. To them, my refusal to conform to their line is
treachery.
I
CANNOT BE A PART AND PARCEL OF THE CONGRESS BY ANY MEAN AND BY ANY STANDARD.
TRIBALISM MASQUERADING AS IDEOLOGY - ::
They waste no time in weaponizing my
words against me. They pluck points out of context, hurl accusations, and push
me into zones of frenzy where silence is demanded but never attained. Their
goal is to suffocate my expression under the weight of constant harassment.
This is not politics in its noblest
sense. It is tribalism masquerading as ideology. In such a climate, those who
do not chant the slogans of the day are cast as enemies, and I, for my
independence, have been made to bear that punishment.
This constant act
and the act to down play me has been my FRIEND right from my
childhood, when I was only seven years of age. I have endured those and even
worst if so called, as the grind, for the harsh treatment I have received and
the very death like penalties that was imposed on me for all my acts that as
ascribed above, when it boiled to my write up, right from my school and college
days. These have made my NUMBS harder and me as STRONG
AS A STEEL. That hardly nerves and unnerves me, and that is for
sure.
Unable to suppress me with argument,
my detractors resort to pressure. They know my writing is built upon proof, and
I refuse to print a single line without verification. Therefore, they cannot
dismiss me as baseless, so they turn to other weapons: political machinery,
connections, and coercion.
The machinery is sophisticated. Phone
calls are made, channels are opened, and invisible strings are pulled until the
pressure trickles down to me. The intent is never dialogue but suppression,
never debate but destruction.
I would not like to debats who come
to the debate box, with money poured in their pocket, to debate for those who
wish to say and prove that- :
“ THE SUN RISES FROM THE WEST BUT IT
MAKES TO LOOK FROM THE EAST THAT IT RISES ”.
My nerves, in this war, are the
battlefield. They press and press again, waiting for weakness. But proof is my
shield, and even if they gnash their teeth in frustration, they find no cracks
in my foundation of evidence.
MY TWEET PAGE “ NEWSSHAKES
”
The gravest blow came with the suspension of my Twitter
page, NewsShakes. For six long years, I nurtured it. It was not
merely a platform but a force, standing proudly among the first five Twitter
pages in the world in terms of impressions.
Each day, my tweets resonated far and wide. They were not
mere characters on a screen but signals to the world that truth still had a
voice, however faint amidst the noise. To see it silenced was to see a pillar
of my public presence torn down.
The suspension was no accident; it was calculated. It was
not my tone that was unbearable but my truth. And truth, in a political climate
brittle with fear, is always the first casualty.
I have searched in vain for reasons behind the suspension,
but none appear justifiable. No crime, no violation of law, only the fact that
my words were too much for the Congress and too much for the ruling BJP to
swallow. That alone was enough to silence me.
Governments wield their tools like blunt hammers, and in
this case, the hammer fell on me. My voice was not criminal—it was
inconvenient. Inconvenience is a crime only to those who fear exposure.
Thus, my account was not shut by law but by politics. It
was not suspended by principle but by cowardice. And cowardice, dressed as
governance, is a weapon more dangerous than censorship itself.
My blog page was inextricably linked to my
Twitter, creating a bridge between article and audience. When one fell, the
other was dragged down. What had been my megaphone to the world was suddenly
reduced to a whisper.
This connection became the bone of contention. Those who
controlled the platforms knew that silencing one would cripple the other. They
acted not as neutral custodians of digital space but as accomplices to
political suppression.
Was it American hands through Google, or Indian hands
through intermediaries? I cannot say with certainty. What I can say is that the
interference was deliberate, calculated, and malicious.
I still retain control of my blog through my email. Nobody has hacked it. Yet,
sabotage does not always come from intrusion; it comes from manipulation. They
twisted the lead photographs, swapping and intertwining them with unrelated
articles.
ARTICLE ON OPERATION SINDOOR
This article, on my blog page, is subtle distortion, was no accident. By misaligning photo with
article, they robbed the writing of its context, its power, its coherence.
Readers were denied clarity, denied truth, and denied the chance to see the
words as I had intended them.
The deliberate sabotage centered especially around
articles on Operation Sindoor and the Bihar elections.
It was clear that those in power feared these writings. By tampering with the
presentation, they sought to neutralize the substance.
I do not lay blame on Congress alone. Behind them, like a
shadow, stands Uncle Sam, based at America . American influence, subtle
yet unmistakable, seeps into our media platforms and bends them to its will.
Alongside them are ideologues, men like Mr. Soares, determined
to prick and bully those who uphold Sanatan and it’s “
PEERLESS ” values.
The bias is evident. Hindutva supporters, Sanatanis, and
Hindus are treated not as citizens but as adversaries. Their voices are muted,
their platforms tampered with, and their presence belittled. I, too, have
become a casualty of this machinery.
The collusion between international power and domestic
politics ensures that the battle is never fair. It is not only the Congress but
the very architecture of digital platforms that conspires to stifle
inconvenient truths.
EVEN THE B.J.P HAS NEVER SPARED ME - :
Even the BJP, the party I support, has not spared me. I
have shed blood for its cause, written tirelessly for its ascent, yet I find
myself betrayed. Under Modi’s Ministry, my NewsShakes page
was suspended.
The timing was telling: the Lok Sabha elections of 2024
had concluded, and the reverberations of my articles were felt too strongly.
Instead of embracing critique, the government chose suppression. Fear triumphed
over tolerance.
Thus, the BJP proved no different from the Congress. When truth turns
into a mirror, both parties, despite their ideological differences, share one
instinct: to shatter it. And I was punished for holding that mirror.
I ask, therefore: what crime have I committed? What is it in my tweets and
blogs that is so terrifying to both Congress and BJP? Have I
committed an offense greater than treason, one so grave that silencing me is
treated as more urgent than justice?
Is truth itself now a capital crime? If so, then I stand
guilty with pride. For if my only crime is to speak honestly, then I am ready
to bear its punishment.
Yet, I refuse to be silenced in shame. Instead, I demand
an answer—from Congress, from BJP, from the courts of this land. Why
is the truth more dangerous than the lie?
MY STRAIGHT QUERRY TO GOOGLE, AND BLOGGERS COMMUNITY - :
I extend my question to Google and the Blogger community.
Why must my articles on India’s defense—its scientists, its factories, its
missiles, its drones—be treated as intolerable? Do they not honor the nation’s
strength, its innovation, its resilience?
My writings on defense are not reckless; they are
reverent. They celebrate the tireless labor of those who secure our borders.
Yet, instead of being uplifted, they are smothered.
This, I fear, is no mere oversight. It is a deliberate attempt
to weaken pride, to prevent the world from reading about India’s ascent.
It is censorship disguised as moderation, and it is an insult to both writer
and nation.
SUCCESS FLOWS LIKE WATER THROUGH THE ROCKS TO CUT IT - ::
But I have learned that success flows like a river. It
cuts through rocks not by force but by persistence. And so too must I
continue, undeterred by these bitchy, devilish acts meant to break my will.
They underestimate
the resilience of a writer. Words cannot be chained, nor can conviction be
starved. Suppression may slow the current, but the river always finds another
path.
Their intent is destruction; my intent is creation. And
creation, fueled by truth, outlives every attempt at silencing.
The lion, I have learned, remains alone. He thrives alone,
he hunts alone, and he dies alone. Yet, through it all, he never compromises
his nature—never chews grass even in his golden days, and MORE SO, IN HIS OLDEN
DAYS. .
This lesson is etched into my life. Loneliness is not
weakness but strength. To endure isolation is to live authentically, even if it
means standing apart from the herd.
I shall do what I believe best, no matter how many enemies
I make. Time itself will grind them down into dust. The tide of history favors
those who remain steadfast.
A lion does not lose sleep over the shriek of wolves or
the cry of sheep. Their noise does not disturb his rest; it only affirms his
place as king. I, too, have chosen to embody this spirit.
The ABSURDITY, which one terms it
as CACAPHOONY
in journalism
lingo, of critics is just
that—noise. They bark, they bleat, but they cannot unseat the conviction I
hold. Their desperation is evidence of their weakness.
And so, I walk forward, lion-hearted, resolute, unbent. For
truth is not a passing sound; it is an echo that endures long after the noise
has faded.
That Is It and that speaks all about it
Mr Shyamal Bhattacharjee, the author was born at West Chirimiri Colliery at District Surguja, Chattisgarh on July 6th 1959 He received his early education at Carmel Convent School Bishrampur and later at Christ Church Boys' Higher Secondary School at Jabalpur. He later joined Hislop College at Nagpur and completed his graduation in Science and he also added a degree in B A thereafter. He joined the HITAVADA, a leading dailies of Central India at Nagpur as a Sub-Editor ( Sports ) but gave up to complete his MBA in 1984 He thereafter added a Diploma In Export Management. He has authored SEVEN books namely Notable Quotes and Noble Thought published by Pustak Mahal in 2001 Indian Cricket : Faces That Changed It published by Manas Publications in 2009 and Essential Of Office Management published by NBCA, Kolkatta in 2012, GOLDEN QUOTES on INSPIRATION , SORROW , PEACE and LIFE published by B.F.C Publications, Lucknow, , and QUOTES:: Evolution and Origin of Management Electives by Clever Fox Publishing, Chennai ,From Dhyan To Dhan :: Indian Hockey - Sudden Death Or Extra Time published by BOOKS CLINIC Publishing House , Bilaspur , Chattisgarh and his FIRST book on Hindi poem, which reads as " BHED HAI GEHRA - BAAT JARA SI " and MIDAS TOUCH AND MIRACLES OF INDIAN SPORTS , published by Books Clinics , Bilaspur , Chhattisgarh,
He has a experience of about 35 years in Marketing , and Business Analytics .
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