Sunday, October 7, 2012

India Calling Bharath

The water bottle in Delhi airport costs 40 bucks. It costs 15 rupee outside. Its the same product, same brand same water, just costlier. Nobody has asked the airport manager why it is so. That is the way it is.

They don't use meters in auto rickshaws these days. It is beneath the dignity of the drivers to do so, and beyond the capacity of the passenger to ask. The autos have been issued permits to run on roads to service the community. It ends up being just another self service entrepreneurship game. Who in this wide world is responsible for ensuring that the fare meters run? I have no idea. Who should lose his job when salaried and the poor on Indian streets are fleeced every day? I have no idea.

The roads are dug up. The drains are over flowing. The hawkers are on the pavement and I have no place to walk. Those whom we appointed as custodians are busy looting the treasury, the sentries whom we posted to safe guard our interest have teamed up with the looters and are now bookkeepers to some of this worlds most thick skinned and blatant criminals. Soon, there will be nothing left. The gold in our temples will vanish, the green paddy fields will give way to faceless skyscrapers, and the poor, finding no food and no salvation will eat the rich.

This is today what Mathura was in its 36the year after the great war. The lord knows that it is time for the curse of Gandhari to come true. The sire will kill the son, blood will flow into the sea, and then there will be no pardons. This is now a nation where its women are raped on the streets, old men lynched, people thrown off running trains and cars and children are chewed by rats alive.

Those who were to uphold law and ensure justice have sided with the Jews. For a few silver more, they close their eyes for longer. All this while, our neighbors wait and watch as our children are at war with each other. Like hyenas they wait for our death to come...from within.

Remember my countrymen, this is a nation that has survived the Islamic marauders, the English greed and the likes of Alexander. We have lived this before. We have survived times like these before. Where our Gods have failed before, our Goddesses have triumphed. There will be sacrifices in the anvil, blood will again in color the brown Ganges red. Red is a color that is more loved than brown or saffron or white. Red is the color of revolution. Red is the color of the vermillion that my mother wears, the color of Ma Durga's saree and Ma Kali's eyes.   One million of I am burning from within. Each a keg of powder, each awaiting death for a better life. Soon, the Vrushini kingdom will end again. Towards a new dawn, my lord, may my nation awake.

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