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The Audacity of the Corrupt

So I met him today. He, of feminine voice and masculine arrogance, looked at me from underneath the glasses and complained to the person who had taken me for the meeting. 

"He makes too much noise, that this is loss to public exchequer and things like that." Said he, with such an indignance as if I had offered him some corrupt offer. He was visibly agitated. Agitated about my request to him and his colleagues to remain honest and fair.

I couldn't understand why. How could you be angry about someone who had wanted you to act honestly and honourably? But then he was. The government of the day has changed, but that government is busy getting resolved the fight of languages. The masses rise for a stupid struggle. Language, mine and yours, ought to be respected. Languages, one and all, are anyways dying for the lack of love, but then, that's another days debate.

I thought of another government officer, honest but timid due to hierarchy, gnawing at any pretence of lawful honesty with impunity of an outraged animal. A lonely and feeble voice asking me to take it up with seniors, government, someone, which could stop the cruel wheels of corruption and let him live with an easy conscience. That man had a feeble voice, speaking through hints and whispers. The contrast is stark. The feral force of felony is no match for docile dithering of decency. There is something wrong about the world we live in. The honest are in hiding and alone, the corrupt are singing in a cruel chorus. 

The corrupt isn't ashamed anymore. They mock the honest, and are blatant with each passing day. Those who promise to act against them, lose the evidence once they have power to act. Honesty is no more than a vehicle to electoral victory. It takes too much of a spine to act, status quo is easier and less demanding to the conscience lying supine in the battlefield, defeated and vulgar. The honest is silent and succumbing, the corrupt, blatant and audacious. Whatever happened to the power of truth? My soul swathe in lingering lament. I want to write and escape into my world, where truth still walks with head held high. That's why I am a writer, this world is too harsh and doesn't become me.


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