Crime scene

It was almost monstrous. An ambush of the worst kind. Butchered, dismembered, strewn in bloody gore, and pulling together whatever was left of the shreds of their dignity, the Congress limped its way into the resplendent Rashtrapati Bhawan. Where was the time to cry ‘Fowl’?! Besides, they sound like one themselves. Hoping for the Gandhis to yet again be the nicotine of their ailing party, they fell into a new abyss. Refused to let some youngsters rise up from the ashes. Failing in their duty towards their own party, yet again. The older members are much like how the senior citizens, in a hospice, function. Dependent, drowning in self pity and waiting for pills from the primary nurse and intern-forever, son. 


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