“Punishment isn’t defined, it remains a warhorse of a susceptible battlefield”.
way back in 1993, events jolted and stunned us. as a matter of fact, they did so nonchalantly, in Dec ’92. it was unreal, it was deemed barbaric, it was inconsolable. but what made it all so vulnerable was the entire prognosis of the events that unfolded and screamed with morons of our sugar coated system that died to admire their own demons.
an analysis today is as futile as it was, 21 years ago. I am not trying to create a placard out of it, neither am I trying to swell wounds. but the drama surrounding our lives for the past one week has been nothing short of fuelled gas. the verdict was delayed by ages. the verdict was ought to be the most significant the Supreme court has ever handed over to a group or individual. yet, it became a verdict, that stands as a symbol of mockery for those unscrupulous individuals who knew and understood our lousy governments much better and much earlier than you and me. Perhaps, the fundamentals of law making were in knees as we stood like fools, expecting a verdict with folded hands (I am sorry but we were never in a couch to demand verdicts).
for me, this is buried. the ghosts of those horrendous moments still languish with pain but it doesn’t matter any more. the usual suspects are still beneath woods or grass, our leaders, administrators and the governments are oblivious of their darling presence, I would rather quote them to be pretentious.
we capture, we feed, we protect, we make them listen to our lullabies and we get them back to their cells, safely. few, thanks to their domineering presence or privileged inheritance, get a hangover and are allowed to make a better person out of themselves with a sword that wakes them every morning. they still live, make money and make money with discretion less pounding. one fine morning, when the sword wakes up before you and cuts you naked, you realize that the time has come. not yet, please hold on, the time came in years back, but I lived in froth, today I call it ‘fate’. oops, we digressed. let’s get back to the roots.
my question has never been ‘why’, it has always been and am still asking ‘how’. the aftermath is never an example, because it isn’t. for those who lived it, I don’t think they care. you think they should? well, this time, my question is ‘why’!