A few of the blogs I frequent come strongly on our present day politicians. They are simply wonderful. They are passionate about what they write, they are passionate about their feelings and they are passionate about how they try to convey what they feel though their writings. Some do dare go a step ahead and address our honorable MPs as monkeys. I can’t help smiling. It would be an insult to our ancestors for them (MPs) to actually extract displeasure out of this strong address. If someone could jeer at you then you probably earned it!
But what if were I to be an MP? Perhaps I too would pull out of my chair in half sleep and declare the condescending fool to be dragged by his ear lobes and declare him the rightful owner of the ragged space by the corner in one of Bhutan’s worst jails. Didn’t some MPs think a journalist deserving of what I just mentioned? I am not a journalist; I do not know about the consequences of misreporting, or of the certain probability of being harangued for reporting what was not particularly pleasing to the honorable MPs’ ears. But I do know, talking feudalistic vibes in otherwise democratic arena creates more confusion than the fathomable limits and subjects the topic to further deliberations and subsequent ill-bearings.
But I do not want to know what if I was a journalist. More importantly, what if I were a MP? Okay, what if I were a MP? Would I go to the media to express my displeasure about the media? Hmm, I would have to think about that. When I normally talk ill of my boss I run to my friends instead. But I make sure they are those sections of friends who stride at the same wavelength as mine. Just because the boss’ wife is my friend I dare not go about speaking ill of her husband.
The actual question should be “Why do I want to be a MP?” So because it seems the only opportunity available now? So because I have this gift of the gab? So because my village folks are willing to press their thumb on my cute face? So because I can promise them heaven on earth? So because blah blah blah…Or perhaps you know why you and I have to be an MP for all the good reasons.
Well if you ask me, my intent is not to answer what if I were to be a MP. It’s fearful enough to even dream to be one. What if I was to take part in the elections and later have none at all, or worse comes to worst- just me, voted from my party? The sacred house of deliberations is no place for people who represent the minority. And even in winning not be able to enjoy the people's confidence and satisfaction. That is not the worst fear I have. My worst fear is what if I promise a bridge and then have to declare it impossible after gaining the people’s votes?
Sleep over it folks. And wake up to a happy weekend, no matter what! Ciao.
But what if were I to be an MP? Perhaps I too would pull out of my chair in half sleep and declare the condescending fool to be dragged by his ear lobes and declare him the rightful owner of the ragged space by the corner in one of Bhutan’s worst jails. Didn’t some MPs think a journalist deserving of what I just mentioned? I am not a journalist; I do not know about the consequences of misreporting, or of the certain probability of being harangued for reporting what was not particularly pleasing to the honorable MPs’ ears. But I do know, talking feudalistic vibes in otherwise democratic arena creates more confusion than the fathomable limits and subjects the topic to further deliberations and subsequent ill-bearings.
But I do not want to know what if I was a journalist. More importantly, what if I were a MP? Okay, what if I were a MP? Would I go to the media to express my displeasure about the media? Hmm, I would have to think about that. When I normally talk ill of my boss I run to my friends instead. But I make sure they are those sections of friends who stride at the same wavelength as mine. Just because the boss’ wife is my friend I dare not go about speaking ill of her husband.
The actual question should be “Why do I want to be a MP?” So because it seems the only opportunity available now? So because I have this gift of the gab? So because my village folks are willing to press their thumb on my cute face? So because I can promise them heaven on earth? So because blah blah blah…Or perhaps you know why you and I have to be an MP for all the good reasons.
Well if you ask me, my intent is not to answer what if I were to be a MP. It’s fearful enough to even dream to be one. What if I was to take part in the elections and later have none at all, or worse comes to worst- just me, voted from my party? The sacred house of deliberations is no place for people who represent the minority. And even in winning not be able to enjoy the people's confidence and satisfaction. That is not the worst fear I have. My worst fear is what if I promise a bridge and then have to declare it impossible after gaining the people’s votes?
Sleep over it folks. And wake up to a happy weekend, no matter what! Ciao.
well phrased man!! But i felt to understand what the present MPs are doing as per your judgement.
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