They live in the dark, damp sewers. Scurrying about, worried only about their next meal. The foul smell, the muck doesn't bother them anymore. The years spent in the sewers have conditioned them to actually enjoy their lives there. This is HOME!
They don't bother to go out into the light, they don't stop to think if life could be better. After all, they have seen their inquisitive brethren being mercilessly squashed. Extermination attempts don't bother them a bit. A whole lot die but the others carry on. There is no time to mourn the lives lost, no time to question why and retaliation was never in their nature anyway. After all, the sole purpose of their lives is to scurry around, scavenge, reproduce a whole lot and finally be squashed.
NO, I am not talking about a colony of cockroaches.... I am talking about us and the the large sewer we live in!
2 comments:
Some of my friends (and a little bit of me too) are seriously considering emigrating - US, Netherlands, Sweden, Aus, New Zealand etc.
The least we can do is settle down in non-Bangalore: Mysore, Belgaum..any other options?
Abandoning a sinking ship is the most sane thing to do. Repairing it and keeping it afloat is what heroism is about....
But I sometimes wonder if this place is just beyond repair.... I feel nothing but utter disgust for our system -the conning khadis and rowdy khakhis. But most of all, I feel a strong revulsion towards us the people who take this shit without as much as a whimper. Maybe we just don't deserve any better.
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