When trust rots!
Some betrayals hit you so hard that you even begin to suspect if the air you breathe runs in your favor or not. Jokes apart, the recent rotten meat clumps that came to the limelight and the series of crackdowns on the possible spoiled flesh at different places make you think if you’re surrounded by humans or zombies. What we have eaten so far and what we are going to eat a year or two down the line, only God knows. But what we are sure of is that the shreds of glass won’t again make for a perfect glass now: it’s broken, and we least need assurances.
Live visual recordings are in abundance, showing the visitors at the rotten-meat spot covering their mouths airtight, hapless folks eating in the same restaurant where the disease-spreading food is served at the same time, and the malevolent people dumping their gravely flawed business beside a marshy land.
I wonder what black magic they have been brought up with, what cursed water they have been fed, what whisperings have shaken their conscience dead, what sprinkles of dust have damaged their retinas, and what divine fragrance has blessed their nose that they can’t process stench.
Didn’t they once consider an elderly person or an infant eating their diseased commodities spiced by an artificial saliva-producing aura of ‘Kebabs or Shamis?’
What followed the morally and materially rotten revelation was a series of checks and frisking by the authority. Frankly speaking, and using a bit of common sense, why do we sense and show a grave sense of urgency only when something slightly nudges at our accountability? Why have the concerned officials been in a deep slumber and woken up now in hysterical energy all of a sudden? Chalk it up to oversight, and the matter is resolved. But we need answers from them for the filth we have been offered at a good cost, God knows for how long.
Also, how can we expect to drastically improve the conditions of the poor with welfare schemes when such putrid devils take everything for themselves?
Sell dust cheap to the what-we-may-offer-you-salted-or-spiced-and-sliced entrepreneurs, and both hoard money, accumulate gold, grab land, and set up ill-gotten establishments. You see, not a house nowadays costs less than one hundred lakhs. The cost for a house doubles within a few years of purchase. Calculate it for those living hand to mouth, some in one room and some homeless and some in a rented house, and then battling intestinal infections?
What I earn for ‘3–4 Kebabs’, the destitute can’t earn for a sweaty day. And then most of their earnings get flushed down the latrine by the IBS. No dark humor intended.
The betrayal runs deeper than we can imagine and is multi-pronged. It involves the disease aspect, monetary exploitations and hoardings, and faulty accountability both by the entrepreneurs and kingpins and to whom it may concern, among other things yet to be exposed.
Post-script: Something is needed, something persistent and consistent and formidable and revolutionary. Not only with regard to the scam in the limelight now, but vis-à-vis everything holding us back and broken. Civilized people respect harsh truths.
