Drum Drum Drum. Al in the paddy field. The gunman's face behind the towel. The body was found by the police. The sad cry of mother and daughter-in-law. Young-old-teenagers of helpless villages like failed guards near and far.
Sneha switched off the TV and leaned back in her chair. Nandigram again in flashback in the face of voting. Political coups are spreading rapidly in people's minds. Looks big tired. Shooting is not limited to any particular place. Free and uncontrolled bombings in this country like any other country in the world. Those who chanted proletarian slogans have changed. Today, those who are aiming their weapons at their changed faces are falling.
Sneha sighed. Look at the wall. Buddha, Mahatma, Ashoka. The head tingles. Why so much violence around! Will this face of the world never become the face of Ashoka?
When the boy is not at home, he spends time watching TV and flipping through books. And if you don't mind, float to the past. But the doctor has repeatedly said, always try to keep yourself present, your past creates depression in you.
That's why the boy bought a lot of books. Apart from various books on Puranas, Rabindranath, Vivekananda Madar, even provided only connections on TV for easy loneliness. Many channels of art-entertainment. But why the eyes turn to the news! Country news, country news. Sneha's eyes widened. Drum drum sound is coming from all around. Corps after corpse is being deposited at the instigation or indifference of the ruler. The highways of Kolkata are trembling in the procession of contempt beyond the villages. Civil society is roaring. But where is the strong voice of student politics? Are those who have always roared against the tyranny of the ruler now afraid? Did the police brutality of the Naxal period end the next generation?
Thanks for Reading.