SOMETHING I LOOK AT-51 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY The crumbling relics of the bygone days tell it all, the exploitation of man by man, one carrying another on his shoulder to live and make a living for those he loves. The deserted look of the street in yesteryears speaks volumes of imperialism at its peak with people hardly daring to come out in open, what to raise their voice of thunder? Everything remained the same except the glittering outer line, it is same, a lonely man's lone walk in a crowded street. We are the same gentlemen as we were hundred years back with gloomy eyes and the same horrified looks on our face Still, we digest and tolerate injustice, still hesitant and uncomfortable we are to raise our voice and call a spade a spade, still imperialism in a new guise, the indomitable desire of man to subjugate, to build his castle on others blood and sweat. Still economic disparity and segmented division of society, still one carrying the other on his shoulder to make his both ends meet with naked self-interest and parochial loyalties and make belief identities eating the very vitals of the society. Things have changed but hardly there is any change in us. The wind of change touching us without affecting our attitude towards life and others with whom we live and share not this so beautiful world of ours. copyright@smrutiranjan 20.8.2017 #SOMETHING I LOOK AT-51 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY The crumbling relics of the bygone days tell it all, the exploitation of man by man, one carrying another on his shoulder to live and make a living for those he loves.
