If Only A Man Could Spit His

The Story Of A Poor Man's Life Is Written On His Body, In A Sharp Pen.

Nothing Gives Us Greater Pride Than The Importance Of India's Scientific And Engineering Colleges, Or The Army Of Indian Scientists At Organizations Such As Microsoft And Nasa. Our Temples Are Not The God-encrusted Shrines Of Varanasi, But Western Scientific Institutions Like Caltech And Mit, And Magazines Like 'nature' And 'scientific American.

These Are The Three Main Diseases Of This Country, Sir: Typhoid, Cholera, And Election Fever. This Last One Is The Worst; It Makes People Talk And Talk About Things That They Have No Say In ... Would They Do It This Time? Would They Beat The Great Socialist And Win The Elections? Had They Raised Enough Money Of Their Own, And Bribed Enough Policemen, And Bought Enough Fingerprints Of Their Own, To Win? Like Eunuchs Discussing The Kama Sutra, The Voters Discuss The Elections In Laxmangarh.

Because In This World, There Is A Line: On One Side Are The Men Who Cannot Get Things Done, And On The Other Side Are The Men Who Can. And Not One In A Hundred Will Cross That Line. Will You?

Go To The Tea Shop Anywhere Along The Ganga, Sir, And Look At The Men Working In That Tea Shop - Men, I Say, But Better To Call Them Human Spiders That Go Crawling In Between And Under The Tables With Rags In Their Hands, Crushed Humans In Crushed Uniforms, Sluggish, Unshaven, In Their Thirties Or Forties Or Fifties But Still "boys." But That Is Your Fate If You Do Your Job Well - With Honesty, Dedication, And Sincerity, The Way Gandhi Would Have Done It, No Doubt.