STATIC INDIA

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plzz tell me ur thoughts about this story.........honest opinions plzz......ill appreciate it....


The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. Look the other way; he told that frowning creature in his soul. “I do it all the time. A little corruption. A little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24 /7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep?” he told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian.
He had hardly snapped his eyes shut when his mobile started ringing once again. He picked it up only to read “Rally in Lucknow by the CM, be there in four hours – Editor”.
“Darn it”, he muttered under his breath and left his cozy bed.
Amitosh was a journalist in Ujjaini who thought of every politician as a plague on the face of humanity.
He reached the platform before the allotted arrival time of the train. Not a soul saving his was on the platform – not even porters.
The stationmaster told him that the train was a good two hours late. He felt suddenly tired, as if he had walked twenty miles. Then he looked about himself to find some means of killing the time on the station-walls. At last he went out again and halted at the gates of the station, racking his brains to find something to do. From time to time a cat crossed the streets and jumped over the gutter carefully. A cur sniffed at every tree and hunted for fragments from the kitchen but he did not see a single human being. He felt listless and heartless.
‘What could I do with myself?’ he thought.
Left with no option he visited the small café at the railway station where he sat over a cup of undrinkable tea and an illegible newspaper.
After three hours of sitting idly at the café and being confirmed by the stationmaster that the train is a further two hours late. Amitosh was fully convinced that India is surely headed to the gallows, sooner than later. ‘The politicians have left no stone unturned to completely ruin India.’ he thought.
‘The CM would be promising to cater to the needs of the SC/ST/OBC’s while in reality he will make every possible effort to nullify the growth of the general category so that it would seem that SC/ST/OBC’s are on a rise but it would be the general people who would start to live a more wretched life.’ He thought.
‘He would go on to make more ground breaking promises that even Mr. Bush would find impossible to accomplish which in itself says a lot about the caliber of our politicians.
‘But obviously they have to use the same script in future also. They fear nothing more than fulfilling a promise, as once fulfilled they would be devoid of promising the same promise to the same promise to the same people the next time – and such an insult to their vanity they could not tolerate so once elected they’ll forget their promises. Probatum est.’ he concluded.
But this revelation gave Amitosh a weird sort of idea. In no time he had left the station.
Few hours later he handed a finished article on the rally to his editor, who was immensely pleased by Amitosh’s speed of work and Amitosh happily accepted the accolades given even when in his heart he knew he just he had to search for this article in some previous years newspaper!


THE END