Thursday, July 2, 2015

INTO THE PAST WITH PAIN...321



                     INTO THE PAST WITH PAIN….321
                                                                    Dr K Prabhakar Rao
Gandhi, Nehru and Patel are seen  at a bus stand in Hyderabad and waiting to catch a bus. A  bus arrives, does not stop and goes ahead. All passengers waiting for the bus run in pell-mell  to catch it like flock of  buffaloes and bus stops at a distance,  Some board, some hang on and bus  goes off. The guys who are unable to board look desperately abusing and  cursing it.
Gandhi. Patel. What  is this? The bus has not stopped here.  At this rate how can we get in?
Patel. We can never Bapu.
Gandhi. Senior citizens will suffer seriously.
Patel  Bapu, Senior citizens  are destined to suffer more in this  nation.
Gandhi. Better we died long ago.
Patel. All can not die. Suffering has to be there.
( Their conversation is heard by another  elderly man  standing close . His name is Rao )
Rao. Very well said sir. In  fact telugu poet Sri Sri wrote long ago in his book Mahaprasthanam.
Patel. Sir ,what he wrote?
Rao…Those  aged with folded skins and with no vigor
          Go and die soon and be not a burden  to the state
         The nation must move, rapid like a torrent
         The lazy  slow and weak must go, which I hate
Gandhi. Was he a communist?
Rao. Yeah. Well said. He was a communist. He also wrote songs for films
Gandhi. True. He had to live too. Any how this is part of the game. We are not like USA
Patel. How  long can we stand like this? No bus will come and stop. All are full like pregnant matron overflowing with people.
Nehru. Patel. This is India a third world country. We are next to China in numbers. Here people are busy producing kids
Gandhi. Didn’t you have kids? Why blame others.
Nehru. I had only one.
Gandhi. Fine. Mr Rao , where you have to go
Rao. Sir I want to get a bank statement. I need to go to bank at Dilsukhnagar
Gandhi. Good name of the locality. Dilsukhnagar means  happy place. Is it really happy there
Rao. Sir. It is other way. It should be called Dildukhnagar. It is highly congested. There is  no traffic control. People move around  like ants everywhere. There is no place to even walk. Driving is a nightmare. One can not park car there.   Liquor shops are on roadside. People purchase bottles there and  start consuming opposite to the shops  where  bus stand is there. Eatables like Pakoda etc are available. Very close to it  public urinals and  toilets are also there. There are dust bins very close overflowing. Police guys watch and no one is bothered. Can we call it  Dilsukhnagar.
Gandhi. Enough sir. I  feel for your suffering.
Rao. Now once I go to bank, I am much worried how much I have to suffer there.
Patel. Why?
Rao. In the bank that is private where I am  going  none cares for senior citizens. For simple work like Bank statement one has to hang around for long time.  There are no sufficient chairs even. If some good counter clerk is present he will feel for you and do  the job quickly.  Most of the time, the counter staff are hot headed and do not bother. They are paid  fat salaries and management is least bothered as there is no check on the  happenings. Things are really bad. Saddest   part is that even private banks have become like this. Govt banks of course are bad where some staff members are rude too.
Gandhi. Are things so bad?
Rao. Very true. By the by , who are you sir? You are dressed like Gandhi.
Gandhi. I am not dressed  like him. I am real Gandhi. Although I am dead I keep  visiting places. We three  are always together.
Rao.If so, very good. I have no comments on your identity. I feel bad that you gave us freedom which we did not deserve.
Gandhi. Looks so. But I thought  we will be honest.
Rao. Now it  other way. Can I sing sir?
Gandhi. Ok Go ahead.                              
Rao… Kanto mein Rahne waale
Kanto se kyo Darenge
Has has ke aafton ka
ham sam na karenge…. Kanto….
Gandhi.. Very well sir. I am impressed
( In the mean time an empty bus arrives and all run to it and board)

                             CURTAIN DROPS  

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