A flood of UPA apathy isn’t really what Narendra Modi needs
The light is out, but life goes on
And then the Happy Prince delivered the demented answer that has since dented his ego and painted him black.
Protesters. Maoists. Terrorists. Idealists. Rapists. Communists. Therapists… What’s the blessed difference? None at all, intoned the Om Minister, unshaken in his trance.
Great Nero was in the midst of fiddling lessons administered by his stern and demanding Roman tutor. And then he heard it. It carried to his ears, feebly, above the din of sycophantic chanting from the courtiers and nobles. Slightly dissonant, wasn’t it?
What do you do when buffaloes mysteriously eat away your green cover? Hunt down the real thick-skinned culprits that wallow in public funds!
Until the mid-eighties, our groceries came bagged in old newspapers. We brought home rice and sugar in packages emblazoned with last week’s headlines. Fish and meat were first wrapped in banana leaves and then with brown paper. Beer bottles were surreptitiously swathed in double-rolls of weekend editions. Steel tumblers clanged at the nearby restaurant, then not yet suffixed with Darshini. Weddings were messy affairs even then but stray dogs industriously polished off discarded meals while cows champed on leaf plates. Recycling waste used to be a tradition, until we turned a new leaf.
Some old-timers fondly recall that much-reviled historic event, the Emergency, for a dictatorial government’s efficacy at enforcing law and order. “Trains ran on time, even criminals were shot at sight,” they reminisce with wistful pride. Sure, but why does a democratic society need a schoolmaster to rap its errant knuckles?
Ask your councillors where the parks have gone, and they will point proudly to a software park within ten minutes’ drive. Car parks, they promise, will follow. But a park by any other name doesn’t feel as green.