It was during the recent Anna Hazare’s climax revolution on corruption
that I happen to travel in the metro. Sitting opposite to me was a young
man, a pro Anna activist. His vigorous patronage was visibly clear on
his face and the lenin he was wearing as it sufficiently radiated Anna.
He was carrying with him a rather large national flag neatly rolled.
Sitting next to this young man, I remember, was a grey haired elite
gentleman in his late 70s on his polo shirt and smart jeans. The young
man was carrying with him a placard - it read, “Manmohan Singh is a
king, a corrupt king.” I overheard the old man softly whispering,
leaning towards the young activist. And this is what I recall he said,
“instead of calling Manmohan a corrupt king” he humbly lowered his head
and suggested, “call him a weak king.” I can’t beg to deny the latter.
