I have to admit. I am an Internet addict.

Common scene at home: Mahafreed at the comp, till 5am. Milkman rings the bell. Mom wakes up to open the door and gets a shock of her life.

“Shut it now!” she screams. Screams so loud that the milkman wonders whether he rang the bell for a longer time than usual.

“Ya, ya. You don’t get it, do you? There is so much to discover online. Bah.” Mahafreed checks all her emails for the last time, then checks ’em networking sites for the last time and adds a twitter update for the last time and then finally checks the DNA epaper. “I need to check how my newspaper looks. It comes from within mom. My nose for the news won’t stop sniffing all night if I don’t know what the paper has in it.” Mahafreed says.

“Stop giving me those banal excuses,” mom snipes back.

But today, Mahafreed’s hands didn’t want to grab the mouse and hold it down. Nor did she feel the need to get em dark circles under her eyes darker, by staring at the computer LCD screen.

Inside Mahafreed’s head:

The TV’s conflict was calling me to watch. Yelling actually.

There they were, in the Lok Sabha. Screaming out loud, wanting to grab attention.

There they were, in the Lok Sabha, a parliament, whose sanctity can make anyone romanticise about it.

There they were, in the Lok Sabha, representing India, the largest democracy in the world.

Wow. What privilege.

There was Manmohan and Sonia, Chidambaram and Pranab, Sharad Pawar and Renuka.

There was Advani too.

Then there were the aspirational. Leaders who young India look up to: Rahul Gandhi, Sachin Pilot, Jyotiraditya Scindia, Milind Deora and Omar Abdullah.

On TV, Rajdeep Sardesai, Pranoy Roy with Barkha Dutt and of course Arnad Goswami were closely watching all.

The nation was watching. WATCHING. WATCHING. WATCHING.

When Laloo stood, it seemed like more were watching. At the DNA office, everyone stopped working. All eyeballs were on the TV. It seemed like a T20 match.

But more than anything I enjoyed watching Somnath Chatterjee conducting and monitoring the debate. He has a knack of being really funny in all his seriousness.

“Meherbani karke beth jayeye”

“Don’t be frivilous”

“Don’t come near the table”

“Go to your seats”

“I request the honourable ministers to take their seats”

“Observe some decorum”

“I won’t allow this”

Somnath almost seemed like a school teacher, trying to control students as young as 5 years old to be seated on their seats.

And then, when Laloo spoke, Somnath was spotted laughing with one hand hiding his mouth. What can be funnier than that?

This was fun. I’d watch TV all day if Lok Sabha TV was as entertaining as it was today

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