After perfidy, opportunism and the President's rule, it was time for the grandest of democratic feasts, the election. The socially conscious citizens of the state had spent the summer of 2008 scheming and sweating on the finer details of their campaigns; sentiments outweighed the rudiments in the manifestos. As the summer drew to a close, millions compassionately complied to sanction a hanging. A few did protest.
Oscar Wilde said: “What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.” Each of the protesters conformed to Wilde’s definition. Whilst they claimed that values like fealty and integrity were purchasable and priced rather low in certain quarters, these cynics also refused to appreciate delusion. Unsurprisingly, they were snubbed.
On the appointed day, the tightening of the noose was documented by every News agency. The airwaves were crammed with minutiae of how the hung assembly may haunt the state and thereby invoked despondency. Even the righteous wondered if the clamoring for the exercise of the right had been right. Finger-pointing too was ruled out, to add to the prick, as the indelible mark of abetment adorned the index finger. The situation demanded leaders. Men of Iron and Steel emerged.
Keen to lift the slag off the collective conscience, these magnanimous men volunteered to aid apostasy and robe the rogue. The Vidhana Soudha was on the ventilator. The administration was expected to be rusty over the next few months, as the assembly recuperated.
A year rolled by. The recession had now eased and inflation was thriving. Forced to swap Presidential suites with a resort dwelling, the legislators demanded a recalculation of the recompense and a reallocation of responsibilities. Economists the world over are grappling with the fallout of the recession to date. The Chief Minister, faced with the same task as the economists, found himself in an eddy of tears. Further hectored, not wanting to part with his powers, he turned to prayer and penance. Higher powers, divine and delhiite, must have been pleased. They did intervene to salvage the regime once the necessary sacrifices were made. Meanwhile, the rains had wreaked havoc in the northern parts of the state. As part of the prayer pact, the divine powers were to deal with the deluge.
Twelve months later, as the monsoon readies to retreat, the law-makers, again, are at the retreats. All the parties have their hopes pinned on rat-races and horse-trades. If the race is abandoned and the trade called off, there is still a last resort - democracy. Who's got your vote?
Oscar Wilde said: “What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.” Each of the protesters conformed to Wilde’s definition. Whilst they claimed that values like fealty and integrity were purchasable and priced rather low in certain quarters, these cynics also refused to appreciate delusion. Unsurprisingly, they were snubbed.
On the appointed day, the tightening of the noose was documented by every News agency. The airwaves were crammed with minutiae of how the hung assembly may haunt the state and thereby invoked despondency. Even the righteous wondered if the clamoring for the exercise of the right had been right. Finger-pointing too was ruled out, to add to the prick, as the indelible mark of abetment adorned the index finger. The situation demanded leaders. Men of Iron and Steel emerged.
Keen to lift the slag off the collective conscience, these magnanimous men volunteered to aid apostasy and robe the rogue. The Vidhana Soudha was on the ventilator. The administration was expected to be rusty over the next few months, as the assembly recuperated.
A year rolled by. The recession had now eased and inflation was thriving. Forced to swap Presidential suites with a resort dwelling, the legislators demanded a recalculation of the recompense and a reallocation of responsibilities. Economists the world over are grappling with the fallout of the recession to date. The Chief Minister, faced with the same task as the economists, found himself in an eddy of tears. Further hectored, not wanting to part with his powers, he turned to prayer and penance. Higher powers, divine and delhiite, must have been pleased. They did intervene to salvage the regime once the necessary sacrifices were made. Meanwhile, the rains had wreaked havoc in the northern parts of the state. As part of the prayer pact, the divine powers were to deal with the deluge.
Twelve months later, as the monsoon readies to retreat, the law-makers, again, are at the retreats. All the parties have their hopes pinned on rat-races and horse-trades. If the race is abandoned and the trade called off, there is still a last resort - democracy. Who's got your vote?
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