Something quite extraordinary has happened in our country this week.
Silence.
Not the peaceful silence of meditation. Not the calm silence of a choir rehearsal. Not even the slightly suspicious silence of a child who has stopped making noise and is probably drawing on the wall with a permanent marker.
No. This is a national silence.
Our great leaders, who normally have opinions about everything from the weather in Washington to the moral habits of neighbouring countries, have suddenly developed a remarkable condition known as diplomatic muteness.
War is happening. People are dying. Ships are being sunk. Missiles are flying across the sky like badly aimed Diwali rockets.
And our leaders have said absolutely nothing.
Now supporters of the present dispensation have come up with a magnificent explanation. They say this is not just, slence. This is prudent silence.
Prudent.
Such a beautiful word. It sounds intelligent, thoughtful and statesmanlike. Like a wise grandfather sitting on a veranda, stroking his white beard and thinking about world affairs.
But I suspect the silence may have a slightly different origin.
You see, when you are sitting in a small neighbourhood tea stall and loudly criticising everyone around you, you feel very powerful.
You shout about discipline. You lecture others about morality. You warn people how they should behave.
But then a large gentleman enters the tea stall. A gentleman whose arms resemble railway bridges and whose voice sounds like a foghorn.
Suddenly the loud critic becomes very quiet. This, my friends, is also called prudent silence.
Our leaders are extremely brave when bullying minorities within our borders. They roar like lions. Laws appear. Speeches thunder. Television debates explode with patriotic enthusiasm.
But when the conversation moves to the global stage, something interesting happens.
The lion quietly transforms into a thoughtful squirrel.
Supporters quickly say this shows maturity. Wisdom. Strategic thinking.
And perhaps it does.
Because deep down there is a truth sitting quietly in the corner of the room.
For years we have been told that we are a mighty global power. The fourth largest economy. A roaring tiger. A nation that the world trembles before.
But occasionally reality clears its throat. And in that moment our leaders suddenly remember something important. That we are still a poor nation.
That powerful countries can flatten economies the way bored schoolboys flatten ants.
That shouting inside the house is easy, but shouting in the international neighbourhood can attract very unpleasant attention.
So we have silence. A deep, thoughtful, philosophical silence.
And in that silence my dear readers see yourselves as bullies, who when powerless on the international stage, turn your attention to the powerless on the domestic stage…!
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