Accursed.

When I see heaps of garbage rising as mountains and rubbish strewn all around in the city and the defilement of public places and open spaces in nearly all towns I have visited , I have a wretched feeling that we are paying for the sins of our fathers.

The entire society was dependant on a class of people to do the dirty work for centuries. And we are still on the look out for someone else to clean up ,the mess we make ,for us.

I am reminded of an incident in the bar association room of a Moffusil court.
A young bumbling man a first time graduate , had become an advocate owing largely to his depressed caste status .

There are those who have it and those who do not irrespective of their backgrounds.This man could not grasp the nuances and the ponderous procedures of the legal profession ,easily.He was forever swabbing the sweat dripping down in rivulets down his swarthy, fleshy and good natured face as his brains creaked and cranked and this was a source of amusement to other young caste Hindu [ to use the current parlance] advocates who constantly ribbed him.

After one such ragging sessions ,as he left the bar room , laughing away genially the jibes ,one of his tormentors a young lean man who was always angry , said aloud , speaking out his mind loud and clear.

"Cha , How despicably we [ our ancestors ] have treated them" [ their ancestors].And stared out of the window moodily, ruminating over the past.

At this admission ,all conversations ,stopped abruptly and all those present ,seniors as well as juniors fell silent.

He was with the characteristic candour of youth voicing the shame all of us feel for the deeds of our ancestors and was also tendering apology on our behalf.