Nation wants all plunderers to be hung by every light pole
How right is the line, I have read somewhere. “The chief business of the nation as a nation is the setting up of Heroes, mainly Bogus.” But I still love this sad land of my country, which now has been made the expanse of boundless desert. Sunk into the dust of this desert is the sweat & blood and dreams of my ancestors, blowing on their pipes who lead flocks of sheep towards the horizons of faith. Now crushed under boots like buds with dew are all those dreams of our ancestors and their thought provoking thoughts. NRO a National Robbery Ordinance laughing on our faces so proudly with the screaming banner of “So What?” A Syndrome of a Great Game for a Great Escape after a Great Devour. Now as a nation or as a flock of sheep with our blinking eyes in the scorching heat of this desert let’s behold those proud heroes of our home land who for their hunts have turned this promising country into a sad desert. Look how glared and galore their fox like faces are. What a Glory they are taking while shrugging their hunch backed shoulders and uttering so profoundly from the hilt of their bottoms, “So What? Why should we resign? We are only alleged of corruption & nepotism, loot & plunder, hooliganism & murders. Why should we resign from our lovely cozy seats at levers of power & prerogatives? Once loosing their faces and morality, for how long they can maintain their denial and enjoy immunity from prosecution that depends on their pedigree and purity of blood running in their veins.
But still even as a flock of sheep we must have a firm belief & a strong faith that, when the game of Chess is over the King and the Pawns, the Queen & the Knights they altogether are rolled back into the same box. And then starts the real phase of Herculean cleansing of the Augean Stable who diverts a river through them. But we as sheep will have to keep on suffering anyway. Its therefore is better to be a nation not merely a flock of sheep simply by abandoning these bogus heroes in our stables and asking them assertively to leave our country for the sake of country. But the sheep in dark backyards and in the scorching heat of desert can only blink eyes in amazement and again follow the blow of hollow faithless pipes. They can hardly understand my good for nothing reverberations.