Skip to main content

POLITICS SANS IDEOLOGY...

The nation witnessed the slow but sure death of democracy in Indian Parliament yesterday.Money flowed like turbulent water of floods inside the "Temple of Democracy".(I'm not saying water because its hard to get good water these days).It seems that Indian politics is the highest paying sector today-corporates are far behind.MPs are huge profit mongering giants-ready to gobble up ideals of those who lived and died for the nation.The pell-mell was worse than fish markets and I was ashamed to see it all.The opposition had brought in a no-confidence motion against the government on the nuclear deal issue.And the rest was shame!!!!!
It seems public money has been taken for granted-after all,its all the tax payers money.The situation seems to be very disheartening-the honourable members of the Parliament must at least maintain the dignity and decorum of the House.
I am quite sad to see that the nation is in hands of people who lack basic human values like courtesy and patience.

Comments

CutePooja said…
Politics has become synonymous wth corruption rather than ideology...
anwesa said…
Thanx Pooja,4 ur comments,that's where the shoe pinches.
Aneesh said…
Well, atleast hope that the N-deal will bring only good to us :)
anwesa said…
Thanx Aneesh 4 ur comments.At least,the dependence on petroleum products might decrease.

Popular posts from this blog

WAITING FOR YOU

Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

77 FICTION : TEAR FILLED EYES

The eyes searched someone. The one she could run to at times of need. In someone’s lap, she would pour out all her troubles.
Nobody came.  She grew up, rimmed her eyes with kohl. But they could never hide her tears.
No one came when her soul was ripped apart. No one heard her cries. No one mourned her loss.
After  a while, she thought that tears were a part of the eyes.

All Consuming Love

Dear You,

Looks like I have found you.

In the depths of my love, I notice your smile.

Yes, the one you flash after that brief moment of joy.

I feel your fingers entwined in mine. All the time.

Your eyes speak to mine, asking me questions.

Remember the first time I told you of my affection and my afflictions ?

You must know this. You consume my thoughts, time and grief.

Glad to have met you.

Yours,

Me.