Rocky, my neighbor’s son died in a car accident recently.
What a tragedy.
He had gone out with his friends for a celebration party. They had passed the third quiz of the second term in school. Befitting the academic achievement, they had partied- just a score of highballs- at a posh downtown pub. On the way back home, the new concrete road divider rammed into their car. Rocky died on the spot. A piece of the car debris spun across the road on to the pavement and killed a man sleeping on the pavement.
The civic administration should be impeached for this gross negligence. “Why weren’t there people on the divider on that fateful night?” we ask of the negligent bureaucracy. The scumbags are allowed to sleep on the pavements to cushion the swerving cars from the impact of the roadside walls. Now that a piece of concrete has been put up in the middle of the road, some of the wretched beggars ought to have been diverted to the new sleeping place. Because of this callousness, Rocky couldn’t slow down the car before hitting the divider.
But, Rocky’s father is an influential person. He spent a small fortune on the funeral rites to ensure that Rocky goes to heaven. Apparently heaven also has a judiciary and police that need to be fixed. So, he has also contracted with a well known ‘tanrtik’ to engage the best lawyer in heaven and diffuse the case with ‘evidence’ to get Rocky out of trouble.
The snag is that we can’t witness the proceedings from here and arrange for the news channels to live- telecast in ‘breaking news’. However, Rocky’s mother-with her ‘the impossible just takes a little longer for the Chopras’ attitude- is ready with the designer outfit, a well rehearsed speech on her son’s playful and innocent nature, and glycerin.
What a pity.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment