By Pamarty Venkataramana

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He was a butcher.

He climbed up the ladder of politics to be crowned king of all other elected members of a National Assembly.

A position much coveted by even the lowliest of soldiers in his land. As well as theologian-like devout small-time priest.

Merely by the symbol of a half crescent moon and a tiny little star fitted against a green cloth,he could fan fanatical sentiments of stout lot who saw thick black oil reserves sprouting from their sand dunes, a few decades ago.

He also knew that he was courted by a tiny,oriental race of ever-vacillating ones who made him feel as Gulliver did among Lilliputians.

And then,of course ,he knew dipsomaniacs of a far western country would fawn over him to speak their fangs of vitriolic hegemony over his erstwhile motherland- Bharat that most ancient civilization on the planet Earth!

All these three groupings were sufficient fiddler for his appetite to be served with all servility of a willing boar,hungry bear and agile eagle.

The hunters turned prey in hands of the prey,of course!

Forget the seventy two danseuses promised to faithful adherents of that belief, he knew he had a dime a dozen live ones already bending backwards to fulfil his every wish and whimsical fantasy, in flesh and blood, right away, in this life and on this little parcel of mountainous land, deserted by the Lord Himself!

He was truly the master of his fate . That of his fellow beings mattered little . Rich and affluent ones either married or migrated to other lands. The poor, helpless ones comprised his constituents. As for the rest, he knew each one of them eyed and aspired to be in his seat. So, he doled out an equally distant opportunity to loot and exploit the fallen system of governance ,to mightiest and dirtiest minds of them all..

Terror, his business pitch!

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He was humble . Sold tea at a stall on the railway-platform. Or,so they say- his newfound publicists.

But,he was a hard-working, industrious and most ambitious lad. He too worked his way up the ladder of politics. He was shrewd enough to realize early in life that politics was going to be the most lucrative business among all other enterprises of the world.

He had an ideology. That of creating more opportunities for people to carry on business, trade and commerce . And, he was blessed. To be a successful opportunist. And, endowed with the gift of the gab, he soon was installed in a seat of power. As the high priest of a billion plus destinies, he had an onerous role.

But, to one who experienced hunger pangs, social boycott and political manoeuvring from close quarters along with  the huge mounds of unaccounted money which accounts for large successes of political parties sponsored by large industrial houses, he always thought money and economic power was the way to liberation from poverty, hunger, thirst and inferiority complex. The doctrine seemingly was simple and clear – outsmart in business so inferiority complex vanishes and superiority complex be matched so everyone feels equal – in attitude status and lifestyle!

His biggest asset though was innate faith in a religion which bows to might of Mother Nature and universal harmony. Protected. Prosperous. Privileged.

He roams free. Garners friendship pacts. Fetches more business.

Mega-Business, his unique selling point!

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A cowherd busily grazes his cattle in the rural area which has neither modern road nor electricity and Internet connections, to help him keep abreast of the goings-on in his country or that of the rogue-state.

A wealthy heir sleeping still after noon in a bid to beat the hangover of the late night party with oldest Bollywood producer of films ..

The rag-picker lies huddled behind a trash-bin at the corner of a public-park, as usual…

The working-classes, as an army of ants, go about fastidiously with their little Tiffin-carriers and a water-bottle tucked in an old worn-out carry-bag. The bags though publicize a beaming politician’s toothy-smile!

The shrill noise of a mike from the makeshift mosque across the street disturbs the diseased patients of the hospital as well as infants of a crèche. Latter begin to wail. Former, groan in extreme pain.

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As the United Nations Organization, so do the statues of mahatma Gandhi and the silent Buddha remain mute witnesses to all happenings around them. It is business as usual.

So much for nirvana and all world at PEACE !

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Pamarty Venkataramana

Pamarty Venkataramana

Pamarty Venkataramana (PVR) is a distinguished and eminent international Jurist, Poet, Author, Speaker and Thinker based in India. His many books are published.
Pamarty Venkataramana

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