Yes, strong words, I know but this is what comes to me every time I read news items like this. These Wall St bosses took home over $1 bn! http://www.rediff.com/money/2008/oct/08sd1.htm In the midst of a financial turmoil that has raised questions, among other things, about fat executive pay packets, a media report listed out 12 top Wall Street bankers who collectively took home over $1 billion (yes, $1 billion!) in the past five years. The total take-home pay of the 12 bankers, current and former chiefs of some of the biggest names in the US financial space, stands at $1.053.15 billion during 2003-07, as per data compiled by The New York Times. Text: PTI, Agencies Well, let the common man end up in streets, let old people's lifetime saving get wiped out, let parents savings for their child's education reduce to pittance; THE executives who are responsible for the blood bath in financial sector, unashamedly rake in tons of money! Kali kaal :) I guess!
How many women need to be raped before the men relish their victory? Everyday I see news of women being raped! A few days back it was a nun! Today I read a Hindu orphan girl mistook for a christian raped and murdered! Something in common I've seen is be it communal divide, geographical divide or any conflict; not just India but world over, be it east or west, men have to rape women to prove their victories! Oh I cannot stop writing sentences with enough exclamations but its extremely sickening; I must say men should hang their head in shame. Its not their victory, actually its their failure. This is the Ravana in them and not Rama. We sure need a Maha Kali to avenge this dishonor on womankind.
Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass ! Reaping and singing by herself ; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain ; O listen ! for the vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
No nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of travellers in some shady haunt, Among Arabian sands : A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard In spring-time from the cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings ? – Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago : Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day ? Some natural sorry, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again ?
Whate’er the theme, the maiden sang As if her song could have no ending ; I saw her singing at her work, And o’er the sickle bending ; – I listened, motionless and still ; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.