House on Fire. Not an essay anymore. What he saw was ridiculous and more ridiculous was his helplessness. Lying at the pavement, blood soaked his face and his shirt was ripped from the collar till the ribs. Scars were visible. Blood and dirt mixed together, reminding him of his human basicity. Three, four young fellows rushed on without noticing him, as if he wasn't a human but a dustbin about which no one really cares until and unless garbage rots in it and create a foul smell. A mob...he could sense a mob was coming that way. Footsteps echoed and faded. He looked towards the sky remembering his God. The blue color of sky also started melting into crimson red, light yellow.
He shirked from the thought of her. His house was on fire when he returned to take her away. He peeked into the window and all what he saw was a glimpse of her hand that held the pallu of her red-yellow sari...trying... to fight the fire...shrieking, crying out for help. He felt the same amount of heat which boiled down over his body. He cursed himself. He cursed the society. He cursed God and those who followed his laws, those who used his name to cover their shameful acts. It was all happening in His name but he knew that the reality was under the veil. How for a piece of land, whole of the set-up was planned. Being her husband, he knew what was happening. Her words echoed in his mind-----Ramlal wants that chunk of land to establish a factory there which would not only render the whole basti homeless but even pollute the ghat. All the promises being made are futile. Nothing is being done on paper. But I'll do whatever is possible to make sure that things don't work out for them!
He knew that the game had begun but it will take such a turn, he never knew that. When clean politics failed, when claims failed, when threats failed... those dirty politicians turned the basti into a playfield, where they begun their dirty game. With both Hindu-Muslim workers settled there, the game became easier. They lighted a spark and blazes of fire were seen. House on fire-not an essay anymore.
*Basti-Village
He shirked from the thought of her. His house was on fire when he returned to take her away. He peeked into the window and all what he saw was a glimpse of her hand that held the pallu of her red-yellow sari...trying... to fight the fire...shrieking, crying out for help. He felt the same amount of heat which boiled down over his body. He cursed himself. He cursed the society. He cursed God and those who followed his laws, those who used his name to cover their shameful acts. It was all happening in His name but he knew that the reality was under the veil. How for a piece of land, whole of the set-up was planned. Being her husband, he knew what was happening. Her words echoed in his mind-----Ramlal wants that chunk of land to establish a factory there which would not only render the whole basti homeless but even pollute the ghat. All the promises being made are futile. Nothing is being done on paper. But I'll do whatever is possible to make sure that things don't work out for them!
He knew that the game had begun but it will take such a turn, he never knew that. When clean politics failed, when claims failed, when threats failed... those dirty politicians turned the basti into a playfield, where they begun their dirty game. With both Hindu-Muslim workers settled there, the game became easier. They lighted a spark and blazes of fire were seen. House on fire-not an essay anymore.
*Basti-Village
9 comments:
Hits just the right note and exposes the all too obvious game that politicians play to turn the tables in their favour...I like the last paragraph especially the '..those dirty politicians turned the basti into a playfield, where they begun their dirty game..' part. Thanks for the post!
@ anupama....
thanx for that thought!:)
Politics is not about bad politicians but bad leaders!
Strong wording. I'm intrigued by your passionate disgust for inept politicians.
Hey! Great work !!!
Is there any way I can join this "gang"?
M just amazed !!!
@artster....
hmmmmmphhh!
@TApas....
thanx....guess u can--all u need to do is get in touch with Shake Inc.
:)or leave a message in the shoutbox!
Naaz, great writeup...it only goes to prove how you have grown as a writer since the inception of this forum. keep it up!
Hey Tapas, an invite has been sent to you. Welcome to the blend!
@shake inc....
thanx man!!!:)
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