The Babus have come,
Didi has arrived,
The Police have finally appeared,
The Army awaits,
The blame game continues,
The anxiety deepens,
The hope diminishes,
Silent tears fall,
Photos are clicked,
The bodies are dragged out,
Lives are lost,
The bridge has fallen .....
I am a self confessed overtly sensitive person, who gets teary and emotional at the smallest of things happening around. But today my nature wasn't to be blamed for my sadness and disturbed state of mind.
As a matter of fact, at this point of time, I am not blaming anyone -
The Government, The Firm who had the contract of building the bridge, the Police, the Babus.
I am demanding or rather begging , to get the people still under the debris out. If they are still alive, they are in a living hell, and if they are dead, their families need closure. Whatever the clause is, get them out, it's not time for the blame game to start.
I guess this is a unanimous collective sigh of the common man in Kolkata right now. A sigh that goes unheard and ignored even at the face of death. So we concentrate on other things, like the match that we lost, the dinner that has gone cold, the small talk on the dinner table, the long drags of the smoke, sharing #prayforkolkata post on facebook and then inadvertently going to sleep.
And in the quiet of the night between uncertainty and bickering of political parties, the common man wonders, if its their day tomorrow, to live or to die. In a city where the Chief Minister appears only to make politically correct statements despite the fact that a great number of people are trapped, dead or alive under a fallen bridge, I question to the darkness of night because it's the only thing that listens to us
How sick has kolkata become?
Do I hope to get an answer? No.
The silence is unnerving,
The night is cold,
The bridge has fallen.
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