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Right> RIght? rIGHt? OH NOW it's RIGHT!

The Left Red Riding hood of my state has seen his last days gathering the Right moss- a bit of colour correction and some more objectivity added to it. Let’s say- the some Indianite Wordsworth gave birth to some impulses and the lady heralded the big bang fall. Its big cousin the Theory is still proving its point in the urn of atomic projects. Yet are we aware of Right?

The smart kid with peppy chartbuster whispering through his tiny throat still wakes up five at the morning- sorry the alarm clock is either replaced by a howling employer or more so “who-needs-yelling-when-we-get –things-done-by-kicking” care taker. Nope, that half tooth broken son of some forgotten mother, still takes a quick look when the school bus packed with peppy chartbuster mismatched singers pass by sharp at nine. And only the black eyed dog of the neighbourhood notices the yearning in those tea serving eyes.

The environmental science teacher used to say-“Riiiight cheelren”-And then we would nod, not from right to left- but just up and down. Just like those in the round house of affairs in the heart of the country. Is that heart Right? Nope! The journo girl to my right manages her Indian scurf around her neck and says-“right X I see the right side of the city get reports of blast...”
The bloody bundle in the sewer water never had the effervescent pleasure to learn about this right. The not so ethically right goofy clinic whispered into the ears of the “I-am-always-right” patriarch, with eyes focused on the huge bulge in his wheat white safari-“daughter-in-law growing another daughter inside.” The so right decision maker wrote his name in the black book called female foeticide.

“You see”- the hotel manager briefs the lanky waiter-“the customer is always right”- and in the background we watch brawling kids of some big fat family flanging another bone china off the window- thumping on the table- establishing their rights-“see my dish fly Right through the middle of the two pots”.

SO right are the traffic rules during those festive days, that you find the right inforcers standing right under the shadiest trees along road side. They are concentrating on their festive rights. “You (*#@$) park that tin can right here”! The trembling skeleton conductors have no other right left.

Nothing is left behind- the right to information takes ages to get right inside the head of the victims- why- the teacher was sleeping, the peon playing cards and the mediator trying to sniff the right air. This year was not so right either, we lost Jobs, couple of aesthetically Right singers, we got confused over Obama and Osama-We shamelessly added more painful chapters right inside those ever boring history tome-(Dictators never abandon their rights) and bowed our head some more to caps, hats and turbans saying, “Sir ji you are Right!

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