A glooming peace this morning with it brings.
The sun for sorrow will not show his head.
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd, and some (maybe none) punished;
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Democracy and her India.
Indian democracy is a failure of shakespearean proportions on the world stage. Six decades back, India, a land of Kingdoms, a land ruled over centuries by Kings and Monarchs, and finally Imperialists, decided to woo Democracy, a rule of the people. Indian family of Dynasties and the Democratic family of Liberty, Freedom, and People were as far apart as the Montagues and the Capulets. To marry them, should naturally have been to script the greatest drama on the stage of modern global politics. And if fate woul be a dramatist of unparalled genius of tragedies, much like Shakespear, this drama too should fall its curtains to the audience, with the curtain a mere formality to a role already well carried out to perfection by the tears that have flooded the eyes, and blurred our vision for a better tomorrow for humanity across the world.
Like the Friar, shall I ask to put Democracy to sleep, ultimately to unite her with India? But then will India have the patience not to think Democracy dead? Can India stop Democracy stab herself to death upon finding him dead from the poison of our politics?
How I wish all the best dramas were not tragedies, or at least, our little drama be spared the merit of being the best, for then it might endure itself from being a tragedy. Tragedy or not, India and democracy has chosen each other, and they would be together even if in their deaths. Revolution might be to stab oneself, but then separation is not a solution. To liberate ourselves from the Dynasties, the Gandhis, the Dynasty masked itself as democratic, we need the characters to come alive on the stage, to re live the horrors of a revolution, once left half done in the hands of this family.
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of democracy and her India.
The sun for sorrow will not show his head.
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd, and some (maybe none) punished;
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Democracy and her India.
Indian democracy is a failure of shakespearean proportions on the world stage. Six decades back, India, a land of Kingdoms, a land ruled over centuries by Kings and Monarchs, and finally Imperialists, decided to woo Democracy, a rule of the people. Indian family of Dynasties and the Democratic family of Liberty, Freedom, and People were as far apart as the Montagues and the Capulets. To marry them, should naturally have been to script the greatest drama on the stage of modern global politics. And if fate woul be a dramatist of unparalled genius of tragedies, much like Shakespear, this drama too should fall its curtains to the audience, with the curtain a mere formality to a role already well carried out to perfection by the tears that have flooded the eyes, and blurred our vision for a better tomorrow for humanity across the world.
Like the Friar, shall I ask to put Democracy to sleep, ultimately to unite her with India? But then will India have the patience not to think Democracy dead? Can India stop Democracy stab herself to death upon finding him dead from the poison of our politics?
How I wish all the best dramas were not tragedies, or at least, our little drama be spared the merit of being the best, for then it might endure itself from being a tragedy. Tragedy or not, India and democracy has chosen each other, and they would be together even if in their deaths. Revolution might be to stab oneself, but then separation is not a solution. To liberate ourselves from the Dynasties, the Gandhis, the Dynasty masked itself as democratic, we need the characters to come alive on the stage, to re live the horrors of a revolution, once left half done in the hands of this family.
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of democracy and her India.
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